After the Sun disappeared behind the smoke, Hector had stopped keeping track of time. There wasn't a purpose to it, and it distracted him from the battle. Perhaps two days of constant battle, flying from one battle to the next. The short reprieves for food, water, and relief, like when a blade stops moving after a strike, merely the meter by which bloodshed was measured and not a moment in themselves to him. 

He threw himself along and down from the walls into the hordes of demons with vigor. Many times abandoning his sword and hammer so he could tear them apart with his own hands. He let himself free and let go of his inhibitions. A half-breed like him was not a human, just a monster in human skin, and he fell into that role flawlessly.

His hair turned red, his eyes amber, and his skin white. Horns pierced his forhead, and his wings grew more aggressive in their motions. His magic, likewise, went wild. Tapping into his well, fueled by the taste of blood and a real battle. The reinforced blasts of wind became explosions, stripping weak demons and creating a fire trail behind him. He loved it. War is hell, and as one with demon blood, it was his true home. 

By the time the General of the demon army showed himself, he felt fatigued creeping into him, but the sight of Illunseraph thrilled him. It had been almost twenty years since he fought The Dragon Emperor, and he was finally feeling the tingle of danger again. An opponent who might kill him. 

It was a common belief that the leader of an army of Demons was no less than half of the strength of his army. Any less, and he couldn't keep them in line. It was time to put that to the test.

Illunseraph was humanoid in form, but unlike his distorted and malformed underlings, he was so flawless as to seem like a statue. Artificial, fake in his form, a lie of perfection. An angel smiling sweetly as he tore the throat from the innocent. Maybe this perfect killer would be a perfect foe.

The Demon mocked, "Another mortal stands before me? Too weak to live, too foolish to know better. I look forward to correcting that."

Hector laughed, excitement boiling his blood. "I'd love to see you prove it. Maybe I'll remember what fear feels like!" Hector didn't wait for him to move and charged in. He wasn't going to let this chance go to waste.

The first swing missed, but before the blow had even been committed, Hector had planted his foot for his second backstroke with his hammer. Illunseraph dodged the first but was able to block the second. The Fiend's mace bent unnaturally to block his blow.

When Illunseraph retaliated, the mace twisted again and nearly took off Hector's head. A Blast from Hector's wings pushed him out of the way, but the demon chased after him requiring a parry from his hammer. Then retaliated. 

They quickly gave up on fancy maneuvers as they realized a single blow would end neither of them. They didn't feint or try to trick the other, and there was no point. Slash, thrust, and bludgeon flew with wild abandon as both became lost in the violence.

They drove each other down further and further. But where Illunseraph became frustrated, Hector grew only more excited. The feeling of exhaustion had almost become foreign to him in his might, but now he found it again and smiled. Even if he was going to die, no, because he might die, he was happy again.

During one exchange, Hector's enchanted blade shattered, almost exploding from the force of the impact. Hector was driven back, and the fiend mocked him. "What is a man without his s-" *SMASH*

Hector didn't let him finish, closing the gap in a flash and punching him in the face viciously. "You make a fair point. I suppose I should stop pretending." Hector let loose everything he had, gave up all his inhibitions, and let the bloodlust devour him.

His discipline all but disappear, his normally precise mana control within his body was now gone. He let his mana expand only to pull it back brutally, stoking his own strength. What was like a hot ember became a raging fire.

The feeling of letting go, of abandoning humanity, even for a short while, was electric. He changed from his balanced stance to pure offense and began pushing Illunseraph down. If trading blows got him nowhere then the only thing left was to apply brutality until the monster couldn't fight back. It was risky as he had to endure the counterattacks, but what was the point in the battle if he wasn't risking his life. 

It took hours, but eventually, the fiend broke and fell to the ground. Hector was ecstatic and exhausted in equal measure. Illunseraph, a Demon General, leading an army of what may have been a hundred thousand, defeated by him in personal combat. He hadn't had such a challenge since the Dragon Emperor decades ago, but now he'd found it again. "What's wrong, I thought you were going to teach me a lesson fiend?" He crushed one of the fiends arms with a stomp. "Has your age finally caught up with you? Or are you just humoring me by showing how-"

A sudden gust of cold wind blew past him, and something moved with it. He reacted and looked but saw nothing, then turned back to see what had moved standing above Illunseraph. The thing was an angel, spear in hand and with the tip driven through Illunseraph's chest. The angel took the form of a beautiful, if androgynous, man, but Hector could not see it behind the wrathful gaze looking back. "Watch what you say, half-breed, or I may mistake you for one of these beasts." He ripped out his spear from Illunseraph and took his life with it.

The warning had caused Hector to pause for a moment. He wanted to retaliate, to attack the one who had taken his kill away. But, he was also perfectly aware of what going against an Angel meant. He may have been fine with going to Hell, but even he wasn't willing to challenge Heaven. In the breath it took for him to recognize his choice, the angel had left, disappearing in a flash of light. Hector looked elsewhere and saw other flashes of light, other angels, tearing across the field away from the city. Each flash of light was a demon's death.

His blood cooled and his exhaustion finally crashed down on him. He wanted to be angry and strike back. They ruined his fun, took his kill. He wanted to throw obscenities at them for not paying him back, but couldn't find the energy. Bent over, to a crouch, to sitting, then laying down. By the time he blinked thrice, he was out.