The demon merely teleported away from Fia's talons and Wildfire's blast. When it reappeared, it raised its hand at the phoenix. Using a form of telekinesis, the demon slammed the bird into the ground once, then again, and then casually tossed her off the mountain.
Then, it rounded on Wildfire. It held an open palm to the mage, and then slowly began to tighten his grip into a fist. Wildfire would feel an immense pressure on his chest, as if that very same hand were squeezing him. It was very painful, to say the least. Very capable of killing someone within seconds. The air seemed to become colder with the eminent arrival of death.
But it appeared death would not be visiting this day, for at that moment, the dark, swirling clouds above parted, allowing a single, blinding ray of sun to cast its radiance upon the mountaintop. It illuminated the battlefield in a large circle of light. The light was warm, almost healing.
The pressure eased, and Wildfire may or may not have seen the mass of golden lions standing before him, each the size of two full-grown men, guarding him from the dark creature that was just moments ago about to end him. Their manes were like the fire he wielded, their eyes like burning suns, their fur of golden straw, and teeth like daggers. They were ethereal, and ghostly, too perfect for this world. Wildfire could physically feel the safety and comfort they projected, like a parent's love.
This was holy magic, used almost exclusively by heroes of light. It easily dispelled the false sense of euphoria demonic magic cast upon its victims. The feelings here were genuine.
The demon recoiled in visible fear and shock.
"No!" it hissed. It growled and looked around feverishly. "Show yourself, angel! I'm not afraid of you! Come forward, and die!"
There was no reply. For a moment, everything was silent. Then it came.
A power. Such a terribly, horrendously strong power could be felt. It was a relief to those of pure hearts, but suffocating to those of evil. The demon grimaced in pain and shielded its eyes.
Above, a dark silhouette contrasted with the gold. It was a silhouette recognizable in countless old texts, and legends, and works of art. A lone man slowly floating down from the sky, with two large wings on either side of him.
The angel flicked his wrist, and a magnificent broadsword appeared in his hand. He carelessly raised it, its tip pointing towards the demon. There was a crack of thunder, and a bolt of heavenly lightning raced along the blade and out to its intended target. The demon screamed in terror and pain, and in a flash of white, was little more than a pile of dust mere seconds later. The dust was quickly blown away in the wind.
The dark clouds dissipated, and the mountaintop returned to its normal state with bright skies. The lions disappeared with a wave of the angel's hand, yet Wildfire could still feel their protective aura.
The angel hovered just above the ground for a moment before allowing himself to come to rest. There was not a sound but the howling mountain wind.
Right away, Wildfire would have noticed that this angel sported two feline ears which poked from the top of his hood, and a fluffy, spotted tail behind. He was dressed quite differently from the hermit Wildfire had encountered shortly before. The tattered robe had been replaced with fine, white clothing and shining, golden armor.
Addaiel didn't look at Wildfire, let alone speak to him. Instead, he walked to the mountain's edge and took off once more, this time heading downwards. Moments later, he returned, gingerly carrying Fia. The phoenix was for the most part fine, just knocked silly from the impacts.
With unnatural strength, Addaiel set the bird down, then turned and gazed silently at Wildfire. Wildfire couldn't see his face under the hood. It was all darkness, save for two, glowing, golden slits for eyes.
