The snow began to blanket the carnage of the battlefield. The ruined hilltop’s wounds started to become covered in white. The ritual was nearing completion, and the hero’s party had reached its limits. Erica the Elf had a crater for a face; her life ebbing away. Damos the Dwarf clutched the hole in his gut and coughed up a mouthful of blood. John the Mage screamed in pain as he attempted to stand on his legs, broken at the knees. Only the hero himself was left standing, and his exhaustion was palpable.
“It was a foregone conclusion. Dogs die, and Gods rise,” mocked the Ancient Demon. The hero couldn’t hide his frustration at the Demon’s goading. The Demon had not taken the battle seriously from the offset. Even in its fetal state, on the precipice of rebirth on the mortal plane, the Demon knew that four man-things could not possibly put up a decent fight.
However, the hero had counted on the Demon underestimating him. The denizens of Hell believed themselves superior to men, and the hero, the chief Demon slayer of The Kingdom of Arrabell, intended to put the Demon’s ignorance to use.
The power of Hell began to swirl around the Ancient Demon. Green flames and sordid things began to swell in a spiral about its grotesque body.
“It’s time,” said the Demon. “First, this puny kingdom will fall, and then all the rest after it. Perhaps I will find your families on my Crusade of Blood before my Legions can reach them. Their deaths will be the price you pay for wasting my time.”
At the same time, a spark of gold began to spread. It started at the hero and began to swirl about him as if to push back the tide of death and decay.
“What now?” bemoaned the Demon. He looked over to the hero and saw him standing with his great sword aloft. The Demon narrowed his eyes and peered deeply into the Hero’s essence. A golden flurry of energy was being produced by the heart of the hero and was beginning to circulate up his great sword and back down again into his heart. The Demon chuckled. It was the last stand of a dying insect.
“An interesting technique. One I haven’t seen for millennia. You cannot possibly hope to...” but then, the demon was shocked to see how powerful the golden energy was becoming. His own Demonic energy was beginning to be pushed back by the whirlwind of the hero’s stance.
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“Enough of these games,” said the Demon as it launched a blast of hellfire towards the hero, as if swatting a fly. But the golden power of the hero easily dispersed the Demon’s offhanded attack. A sphere, tens of meters across, had formed and was only growing brighter.
“Surprised? That’s the thing about filth like you. You underestimate humans and treat us offhandedly like children. Then, you act like you can’t believe it. Well, here I am. Time to start believing!”
The Ancient Demon began powering up an attack of his own, one that paled any of its previous so far during this confrontation.
“I see now that I’ll have to take this fight a little seriously. Rejoice, for you’ll now be witness to the power of a God. Behold.”
The hellfire mounting around the Demon began to change colors to a bottomless black. Horrors beyond comprehension swirled in the muck of its energy. However, the Hero’s light held true against the evil onslaught and grew stronger. The Hero raised his great sword above his head and a pillar of light erupted from the precipice of his sword up to the heavens. The light split the snowstorm and cut open the clouds above.
The Demon showed fear for the first time in many years. It squeezed out every ounce of authority it could manage and condensed it into a sphere of Hell between its misshapen hands. The ball condensed until it was only a point consisting of deathly potential.
The battle between the black and gold auras had reached a climax and an ultimate confrontation ensued.
The hero brought down his great sword of light as the demon unleashed a beam of darkness. The two opposite energies met, and a great explosion resounded on the snowy hilltop. Snow was blown away for miles, and the dark clouds above retreated as well. The rest of the Hero’s Party fared no better than their surroundings and were blasted away.
The black and gold held against each other in a deadlock, but the hero expected as much. He continued to refine his energy throughout his sword, and the energy grew a sharp edge to it. The sword aura parted the Demon’s attack like the Red Sea and struck the Ancient Demon true. It was split in half instantly.
“I... can’t believe this. I won’t believe it!”
The Demon called upon his entire essence and directed the left side of his attack towards the Hero. The Hero was caught off guard by Demon’s final effort, but the black energy came towards him far too quickly to move completely out of the way. He jerked his body to his left, away from the malevolent tide.
However, he was too slow. As the Demon started evaporating back into nothingness, the hero lost his right arm to the shoulder. The hero was left lying there in his gore, the blood seemed to stain the dirt and rubble like a crimson wing. The Kingdom of Arrabell was safe once more from the threat of ascension, but an undeniable cost had been paid.

