Underground, beneath the Courtyard of the Undead, Dantalion moved through the darkness, armed with thirty- six legions of demons. Passages led through the first heaven, its damp, twisting caverns and rock formations looming with an aura of death. Upon entry, Dantalion and his armies began absorbing undetectable traces of evil residing within the confines of its walls. Sounds echoed though the caverns, souls of the undead searching bodies to possess. Descending for days below the first heaven, thirst drove the armies to drink from pools of water within the cavern.
"My Lord, I have led many battles, but never have our spiritual weapons or demonic powers been diminished as ours have. The barrier is stronger than anything we have ever seen. "We are losing strength…even you must notice it. See how your demonic appearance is changing?"
"Count Druitte, have you gone mad?"
"No, I fear not my Lord , look upon my shield."
"What is this? My eyes, they have changed to blackness, my hands, no daggers!"
"My Lord, we have all drank from the water inside the cavern. Even with Divine magic we could not purify it completely. The men are weakening. All our powers are diminishing."
"Count Druitte, Rowan, it is not in our demonic nature to stand down. We have but two days left to save the girl. We all must uphold our oaths, to guard over and protect." Dantalion did not want his thirty six legions of demons to see any trace of human emotion.
"We must move out. Our time is diminishing. We cannot leave her here in this infernal damnation to be at the mercy of pure evil."
"I beg your pardon, my Lord, but we are demons. Our purpose is pure evil!" Druitte reminded him.
"This is true. But not all of us." Dantalion sensed the strangeness of his body and that of the others changing, diminishing. Thoughts began haunting him, his eyes closed inside their lids and rolled back, his body, thrashing about. He held his arms at his sides so he wouldn't devour the others. When his eyes finally opened, they rolled forward, soulless, opaque orbs staring blankly ahead.
The demon army watched in horror as Dantalion's possessed body relived his fall from grace. No restraints, surrounded only by thick mist, his entire body was thrown across the cavern wall, thrust face first into jagged rock. His arms extended outward, the force of a blade falling down upon him like a guillotine, severing wings he no longer possessed. The powerful impact sliced into his skin, carving muscle and flesh from his shoulder blades down to his waste. Blood poured down his body and pooled at his feet.