The battlefield fell silent.
Not a single demon dared move.
Not a single blade clashed.
The Underworld itself seemed to hold its breath.
Because now—this wasn't about armies anymore.
It was about blood. About betrayal. About destiny.
And about love.
Damien stalked toward Lucifer, each step deliberate, lethal, the black flames of his sword flickering higher. His silver eyes were locked onto his father—the fallen angel, the first traitor, the king of all corruption.
Arianna stood at the gates, blood dripping from her blade, watching, feeling the bond between them hum with unbearable tension.
If Damien lost—if Lucifer killed him—
Arianna knew she would not survive it.
Not because Lucifer would spare her.
But because she would tear the heavens apart herself before living without Damien.
Lucifer smiled lazily as his son approached, raising his flaming sword in a mocking salute.
"My boy," Lucifer drawled, his voice smooth and poisonous. "You've grown strong. Strong enough to betray your own blood for a mortal girl."
Damien's jaw tightened. His voice, when he spoke, cracked across the battlefield like a whip.
"You betrayed yourself first."
Lucifer chuckled.
"And what will you do, Damien? Strike me down? Take my throne? Rule this pit of ash with your little human queen?"
Lucifer's sneer was a thing of pure malice.
"Love," he spat, "is a weakness. You should have killed her the moment you tasted it."
Arianna's fists clenched at her sides. She wanted to scream at Lucifer, to run to Damien's side.
But she stayed rooted, her sword ready.
She trusted Damien.
Damien spun his blade once, the black fire roaring higher, answering his rage.
"I'll show you what love makes me," Damien said, his voice low and deadly.
Without another word, he attacked.
—
The Clash of Titans
The collision was like a star imploding.
Their swords met with an explosion of power so violent it threw back every soldier within fifty feet.
Black fire met white flame. Darkness met light. Father met son.
Damien's strikes were merciless, fueled by fury and something even deeper—hope.
Lucifer fought with the grace of a fallen god, his movements impossibly fast, every blow designed to break, to shatter, to destroy.
They moved across the battlefield in a deadly dance, the very ground splitting beneath their feet, the sky raining molten ash.
Arianna gritted her teeth as she fought to hold the line against the demons trying to surge through the chaos.
Her heart twisted painfully every time Damien staggered under a brutal strike.
But every time he stumbled—he rose again.
Every time he bled—he struck harder.
Because Damien wasn't fighting just for power.
He wasn't fighting for vengeance.
He was fighting for love.
And it made him unstoppable.
—
Lucifer's Mistake
With a snarl, Lucifer slammed Damien back, sending him skidding across the cracked earth.
"You are NOTHING without me!" Lucifer roared, advancing, his sword burning white-hot. "Everything you are—you owe to ME!"
Damien coughed blood but rose to his feet, his silver eyes blazing.
"I owe you nothing," Damien growled.
Lucifer raised his sword high, gathering the full fury of his magic, the flames howling around him like a dying sun.
"This ends now," Lucifer spat.
The fire exploded outward—a tidal wave of death rushing toward Damien.
Arianna screamed— "NO!" —and instinctively, she sprinted toward Damien.
Without thinking. Without fear.
Because their fates were tied now. Their lives were one.
And she would not lose him.
Damien saw her coming—and something inside him snapped free.
Not her.
Never her.
He roared—a sound so primal, so soul-shaking, it tore the very fabric of the Underworld.
And the shadow deep inside him finally woke.
Black wings—massive, terrible, beautiful—unfurled from Damien's back, formed not of flesh, but of pure, molten darkness.
A shockwave of power blasted outward, shattering Lucifer's wave of fire like glass.
Lucifer stumbled back, his face twisting into pure rage—and, for the first time—fear.
Damien lifted his sword in both hands, dark wings stretching wide, and charged.
The battlefield disappeared into a maelstrom of power and screams.
—
The Final Blow
They clashed again—father against son—one final time.
Their swords locked.
Their wills collided.
Lucifer snarled, "You will never be free of me!"
And Damien, his silver eyes glowing like twin stars, whispered:
"I already am."
With a roar, Damien drove his blade through Lucifer's heart.
The fallen king gasped—staring at the sword buried in his chest.
The flames of his body flickered.
Cracks split his skin.
He fell to his knees.
And the ground swallowed him whole.
Lucifer was gone.
The battle was over.
Damien stumbled forward, panting, blood pouring from his wounds.
Arianna caught him just before he fell.
She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight as the armies of the Underworld dropped their weapons, kneeling, bowing.
All of them.
To Damien.
To Arianna.
To their King and Queen.