*Narrator pov*
The husks of lower ranked demons lay around Azrathos. The hulking demon griped a shorter demon, draining the magic from it to heal his wounds. The lower-ranked demon didn't struggle, nor did it cry; no, it seemed apathetic to what was happening to it.
It knew it was dying for a higher cause.
"I'm sorry." Azrathos whispered, "But your life will be used for much more."
The young demon growled softly, "Kill them." it muttered as the life drained from its eyes
A low chuckle gurgled from the back of Azrathos throat, "I will young one, I will kill them all." he whispered almost gently like a parent would
Soon the young demon's red skin turned grey, and its once-pronounced muscles vanished.
There was nothing left but a husk.
Checking his wounds Azrathos grumbled in annoyance, they scarred over nicely. But, that was the issue, they scarred. He was supposed to be fully healed not scarred, "What type of foul magic does that human carry?" he muttered in confusion
"And he calls us the monsters."
***
Morpheus and the group of ward masters finished setting up their defenses. The pale man sent the team away to tend to other tasks as he stayed behind putting the final touches down.
Morpheus stood from his positions in the shadows of the canyon a smirk forming on his lips, "Stay hidden." he said to the empty space, "You will know when it's your time to strike they think they have a hidden ace, they don't."
Morpheus felt the presence recede and hide itself from all eyes.
Looking across the jagged expanse of rocks Morpheus couldn't help but feel trepidation.
***
The attack came at dawn. The sky burned crimson as the enemy forces advanced, their approach heralded by the tremors of thousands of feet and the distant screeches of angels descending from the heavens. The ground shuddered as demons surged forward, their monstrous forms filling the canyon floor in an unrelenting tide of destruction.
the wizards were ready.
The moment the demons crossed the first threshold of the canyon, the air shimmered with activation sigils. Wards, painstakingly laid over the past days, burst to life in a cascade of destructive magic. The earth cracked open, swallowing entire ranks of demons before sealing shut. Transfigured spikes shot from the canyon walls, impaling those that tried to scale the cliffs. A massive boulder, enchanted to roll with precise trajectory, crashed through their formation, leaving a swath of crushed bodies in its wake.
From the ridges above, ICW battlecasters unleashed a barrage of long-range spells. Blazing firestorms, chains of lightning, and conjured shards of ice rained down upon the enemy. Hit wizard squads, positioned in staggered formations, worked in tandem—one group casting barriers to funnel the enemy into narrow paths, the other launching concentrated bursts of kinetic magic that turned the confined demons into pulp.
The demons did not falter. Those in the front were obliterated, but those behind trampled over their corpses, charging forward without hesitation. They were unafraid of death. They only knew destruction.
Above, the angels descended in coordinated attacks. Moving in trios, they dodged spellfire with unnatural grace, their golden blades flashing as they cut down witches on brooms who tried to intercept them. Every time a wizard raised a wand, an angel would be there, striking before the spell could be finished.
But the humans had prepared for this.
Along the canyon ridges, anti-flight hexes activated. The moment an angel flew too close, their wings stiffened, their speed faltering. Wizards stationed along these ridges seized the moment, launching piercing hexes that tore through their glowing armor. Some angels, realizing the danger, tried to ascend higher—but enchanted ballistae, positioned in hidden alcoves, fired massive spears of transfigured silverwood, skewering them midair.
A squad of broom-riding witches moved in formation, weaving through the sky in tight arcs, using hit-and-run tactics to bait the angels into the anti-flight zones. The moment an angel faltered, three wands snapped in unison, obliterating the divine warrior before they could recover.
But for every angel they downed, another took their place.
The first line of defense held longer than expected, but soon, the demons reached the main battle line. The clash was brutal. American battlecasters, trained in group combat, formed rotating shield formations—while one squad blocked incoming attacks, another struck back. But the demons fought with reckless abandon. They threw themselves against barriers, clawing through with sheer force, ignoring wounds that would have felled any human.
The moment a wizard fell, medics stationed behind the main line rushed in. Portkey stretchers flickered as injured fighters were dragged out of the melee and transported to makeshift healing stations deep in the canyon. Healers worked with cold efficiency, sealing wounds in seconds before pushing the wounded back into battle.
But the demons were overwhelming.
At the center of the battlefield, Azrathos led the charge, his massive form tearing through wizards like they were nothing. He struck with raw, unfiltered power, his fists shattering magical barriers, his movements too fast for most to react.
But then the trap was sprung.
A squad of elite hit wizards, led by Maximilius Silverstein, flanked him from both sides. They worked in perfect synchrony—one group bombarding him with spells to force him back, another reinforcing the ground beneath his feet with transfigured steel, locking him in place for mere seconds. That was all the time they needed.
From above, Morpheus descended like a shadow, his wand moving in tight, precise motions. A dozen glowing chains erupted from the earth, wrapping around Azrathos's limbs. At the same time, Olivia Zhang completed the final sequence of her array—an entire section of the canyon floor beneath the demon suddenly collapsed, dragging him into a deep chasm reinforced with layers of binding wards.
Azrathos roared as he plummeted, but the moment he hit the ground, a surge of energy slammed into him, suppressing his magic.
The battle continued to rage above, but for Azrathos, a new fight had begun.
Morpheus landed lightly on the ground, standing across from the demon, his dagger glinting in the dim light. Azrathos wasted no time—he charged, his massive frame closing the distance in seconds. Morpheus ducked under the first strike, his dagger flashing as he scored a cut across the demon's ribs.
Azrathos barely reacted. He swung again, and this time, Morpheus wasn't fast enough. The blow clipped him, sending him skidding across the rocky ground.
Morpheus rolled to his feet just as Maximilius and two other elite wizards arrived.
"We're keeping him contained," Maximilius said. "Stick to the plan."
Azrathos snarled, sensing the trap. He lunged at Maximilius first, but the hit wizard blurred out of the way, appearing behind him with a slicing hex. Azrathos barely flinched.
Morpheus struck again, his movements a blur. He darted in, feinting high before slashing low, his dagger slicing deep into the demon's leg. Azrathos bellowed, swinging wildly. One of the wizards wasn't fast enough—he took the hit and was sent flying into the canyon wall with a sickening crunch.
Morpheus grimaced. They had to end this fast.
While the duel raged below, the fight in the canyon reached its climax. The wizards' defensive strategy was holding, but just barely. The demons continued their suicidal charges, breaking through formations by sheer numbers. The angels adjusted their tactics, diving low, carving through healers and spellcasters before vanishing back into the sky.
But the wizards adapted. Teams of enchanters started collapsing sections of the canyon to separate the battlefield, creating isolated skirmishes where numbers mattered less. Others conjured massive waves of fire, forcing the demons into bottlenecks where the ICW enforcers could strike them down in groups.
The battle was brutal, but it was not one-sided.
Morpheus ducked below Azrathos's fist twisting as he did so, his daggers came up in a swift motion. One of them impaled his throat and the other found the back of Azrathos's skull.
Pulling the daggers out swiftly Morpheus cut at the neck severing the demon's head completely.
Azrathos has fallen.