RISEN: The fallen one

The wizard, Zorvath, stood tall, his eyes blazing with determination as he unleashed a barrage of magical attacks against Xarath. The air was filled with the sound of crackling energy, the scent of ozone and smoke hanging heavy over the battlefield.

With a swift motion, Zorvath summoned a storm of razor-sharp ice shards, each one glinting like a tiny, frozen dagger in the sunlight. The shards hurtled towards Xarath with deadly precision, their tips whistling through the air with a menacing, high-pitched sound.

But Xarath was no ordinary foe. With a wave of his hand, he summoned a dark, swirling vortex that seemed to draw the very life force out of the air. The vortex grew larger and larger, its power drawing in the ice shards and absorbing them with a series of wet, crunching sounds.

Undeterred, Zorvath summoned a massive, flaming boulder, its surface crackling with intense, orange flames. The boulder crashed down upon Xarath with incredible force, sending rocks and debris flying in all directions.

But Xarath was too powerful, and he simply raised his hand, summoning a dark energy shield that deflected the boulder's impact. The shield glowed with a malevolent, red light, its surface rippling and distorting as it absorbed the boulder's energy.

The wizard was relentless, unleashing a barrage of magical attacks that seemed to come from all directions at once. He summoned a swarm of tiny, razor-sharp insects that buzzed around Xarath's head, trying to distract him. He summoned a massive, crushing weight that tried to pin Xarath to the ground. He even summoned a blast of pure, magical energy that seemed to shake the very foundations of the mountains.

But Xarath countered each and every one of the wizard's attacks, using his own dark magic to deflect, absorb, or neutralize each blow. The demon was a formidable foe, and he seemed to be gaining strength with each passing moment.

As the battle raged on, the air grew thick with magical energy, the very fabric of reality seeming to bend and warp under the strain. The ground shook, the rocks trembling and cracking as the two combatants exchanged blows.

Azrael and Luna watched in awe, their eyes fixed on the battle raging before them. They had never seen anything like it before, and they couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and excitement.

But they also knew that they couldn't just stand by and watch. They had to do something, or risk being caught in the crossfire.

With a swift motion, Azrael drew his sword, its blade shining with a brilliant, angelic light. Luna followed suit, her eyes blazing with determination.

Together, the two angels charged forward, ready to join the battle and help turn the tide in favor of the wizard. But as they approached, they realized that Xarath was far from defeated. In fact, he seemed to be growing stronger by the minute...

Azrael, Luna, and Zorvath charged forward, their combined strength and magical abilities creating a maelstrom of power that crashed down upon Xarath like a tidal wave.

The demon let out a deafening roar as the three of them attacked, his body glowing with an intense, malevolent energy as he tried to defend himself.

But it was too late. The combined might of the angel, the wizard, and the angelic warrior was too much for Xarath to handle. The demon stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock and fear as he realized that he was beaten.

With one final, mighty blow, Azrael struck Xarath down, his sword slicing through the demon's defenses and striking true. The demon let out a deafening scream as he dissipated into nothingness, his malevolent energy banished from the world forever.

The three of them stood panting, their chests heaving with exhaustion as they surveyed the aftermath of the battle. The ground was scorched and blackened, the rocks cracked and shattered from the sheer force of their combined attacks.

But they had done it. They had defeated Xarath.

Zorvath turned to Azrael and Luna, a broad smile spreading across his face. "Well done, my friends," he said, his voice filled with pride and admiration.

Azrael and Luna smiled, their faces flushed with excitement and pride. They had done it.

But as they stood there, basking in the glow of their victory, a sudden, faint glow began to emanate from the spot where Xarath had dissipated.

The three of them turned to look, their eyes narrowing in concern. What was happening?

As they watched, the glow grew brighter, taking on a shape that seemed to coalesce into a figure. A figure that seemed to be made of pure, shimmering light.

"Who is that?" Luna asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Zorvath's eyes narrowed, his face set in a thoughtful expression. "I don't know," he said, "but I think we're about to find out."