Chapter 25

Kayle raised her blade which then magically became engulfed in a cleansing flame. At this signal, the Angels began to plummet in terrifying ranks towards the Earth. Without hesitation, Kayle then swung her blade downwards from which a crimson ball of energy was summoned for the tip and launched towards the ground. The spell screamed from the air and landed in a massive explosion, causing hundreds of torn bodies to fly away like ragdolls. Then, in quick session, she summoned several more of these attacks relentlessly, making it as though it was an apocalyptic meteor shower. The brilliant red flashes trembled the earths, causing many of the troops to falter.

The waves of angelic soldiers crashed down onto the troops like eagles capturing prey. With one fell swoop, tens of thousands of men were instantly cleaved into a gory mess. It was deadly frenzy, the fast swirling Angels struck with impunity as the men could not even defend themselves. They then swarmed the Piltoveran airships, downing them into a trail of blazing smoke within seconds.

"Fire at them! Kepp them away!" Jayce commanded from his flagship but it was no use. The speed of the winged soldiers was blazingly fast. The guns and batteries on the ship could not match up to their targets. From within the ship, the glass windows shattered and the steel frames bent as the smoke and fire quickly filled the cabins. Electrical sparks ran rampant through the advanced Piltoveran systems, signifying the end of the ship's life.

"Captain! Your orders!" the helmsmen shouted.

Jayce looked around him, seeing the panic in the midst of his ship's destruction. He knew there was no other choice.

"Abandon ship, abandon ship!" Jayce reluctantly said.

The officers and troops quickly scurried to their escape pods, launching frantically from the ship as it went crashing down. However, escaping from the ship in the pods proved no better than staying on as flying through the thick ranks of Angels was just as deadly. Jayce however, managed to luckily land some few miles away from the battlefield after his pod became out of control from being struck.

The heavenly swarm had rushed the men back, seemingly devouring them like a savage beast. Swain saw and knew that this was the time to retreat. He gave the order and immediately the armies of Valoran began falling back southwards into the deep valley, the treacherous Abyss.

As the massive army withdrew, they soon encountered the much feared valley. It was deep, narrow and dark like the gates of hell itself. The two mountain walls on both sides of the valley climbed thousands of feet tall. Their peak was capped by a malicious magical storm, remnant of the violent arcane powers used during the Rune Wars. The supernatural clouds and winds could shred through the thick of steel and armors. The low clouds churned just the peaks of the Mountains, effectively forcing any air power to have to lower themselves while being heavily restricted in the winds.

The men bravely funnelled entered the valley, knowing that as long as they were on the ground they would be unharmed. Jarvan and his Demacian army were several miles behind the main body, acting as the sole rear-guard to keep the Angels off until everyone was through. Trailing in front of them were several regiments of Piltoveran artillery. They were to provide crucial support for the Demacians.

"We shall stand guard here Demacians! Hold these lines, do not let them falter! It is my and Valoran's will that we end this here today!" Jarvan ordered. Behind him the last signs of the troops have vanished into the dark, misty valley. In front of the wide valley he formed a line stretching from both sides and prepared for the Angels. The winged soldiers now had to fly low at a visible altitude to avoid being torn to shreds by the arcane storm. They were low and slowed enough so that archers and artillery could now accurately hit them.

The Angels swooped down in a massive colony and crashed towards the Demacians with every intention of breaking through. They dove through the winds and were swooping low with Kayle leading them. As she soared through the mist, she continuously unleashed reckoning strikes upon the Demacians, wreaking havoc in their ranks. Torn bodies were thrown about after each explosion yet the Demacians stood valiantly. As the Angels' blades and theirs met, the bloody sound of battle resumed. Despite all their efforts, the angelic warrior had outmatched the Demacians. The Demacians' numbers had rapidly dwindled.

"We need that artillery support now! Call for them!" Jarvan ordered.

There now began some frantic scrambling even amongst the disciplined Demacian troops as they became routed. In some distance in a new headquarters situated within the Institute of War, Swain watched through the viewing orbs.

"Marshal! The Demacians need the artillery support, shall I send the word?" a lieutenant asked him.

Swain laughed lowly, his eyes filled with sadistic pleasure as he watched.

"Marshal? Your orders?"

"Withdraw all support and armies. The Demacians will defend that point till their death," Swain coldly said.

"B-But Marshal, they…"

Swain's eyes then snapped at the lieutenant like a raven's, their pitch black pupils piercing into his soul.

"You dare defy my orders? I said, withdraw all armies now."

"Y-Yes Marshal…"

With that, the order was quickly carried out. The retreating armies had just broken out of the mists of the valley with the first bloodied and wounded soldiers appearing. Stretchers carrying dying and injured troops filled the ranks of the men. Many of the surviving Piltoveran airships and ground units were filled with incapacitated soldiers as they quickly rushed back to the Institute. Artrix was leading the armies away, he himself bloody but not his own. His chiselled face was now marred by small cuts and bruises of battle and dirty with from the mud. He looked left and right, trying to spot out Riven but it was an impossible feat to find her amongst the millions of men hurriedly marching away. Then, just as he was about to give up, a patch of silvery hair caught the corner of his eyes. There she was, not more than a few hundred metres away and in the same dirty condition he was in. He felt somewhat relieved. He wanted to approach her but the endless streams of troops blocked him. Having no that she was more or less unharmed, he decided to keep moving forward.

When he turned around again, he noticed something strange. Several regiments of Piltoveran artillery was coming through the mist. He had thought that they were to remain behind to support the Demacians, or perhaps there had been a change of plans in the heat of battle.

On the other side of the valley, the Demacians faltered. The expected artillery support had not arrived. Only more and more Angels rushed at them and yet not a single sign of the Piltoverans. The men were falling rapidly; the battleground was littered with corpses of Demacia. It was not a battle; it was a bloodbath, a slaughter. Jarvan looked around and saw his elite troops fall before him. He turned back and there stood the valley yet he could not retreat. On the accounts of pride and honor, he would stand his ground.

"Where are they!" Jarvan hollered.

Then, a messenger came to the Prince and pointed to the faint silhouette of the valley peaks and slopes where the batteries should've been

"They are retreating!" he said.

Jarvan could see now, the Piltoverans in full retreat. The mechanical shapes of their guns were slowly disappearing into the valley's mist, leaving the Demacians all alone to fend for themselves against the countless Angels.

Jarvan suddenly brimmed with rage. He could not believe himself. He could not believe that he had ever trusted that despicable man, Swain. He wondered how he could be so foolish, so pathetic to be deceived by his arch nemesis. He clenched his teeth, holding back his anger. He gripped his lance tightly, almost bruising his own fingers.

Before him, rows upon rows of his best soldiers fell lifeless. Their blood soaked the dirt road, slowly spilling towards him. Now, from all sides, they were surrounded by the flock of angelic warriors. Their only path into the alley was now cut off.

"SWAINNNNNN!" Jarvan hollered at the top of his lungs into the sky. "DO YOU HEAR ME? WYou may have won today, but mark my words! I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next!"

With those words, he lifted his lance and aimed at straight at the oncoming wave. His spear was poised to pierce his adversary. He brought his foot forward and stabbed it firmly into a muddy patch. His once gleaming golden armor was now caked with the mess of battle, losing all its former glory.

"Forward! Forward Demacians, we shall die fighting!" Jarvan bellowed.

At the sight of seeing their Prince prepared for a last stand, the few remaining regiments of Demacians grouped up and waved their banner high one last time. Then, led by their Prince they charged deathlessly at their countless enemies. This tiny band surging against the flocks of Angels was like a last few fish braving upstream a massive river. They ploughed through the mud, the gore and the bodies of their fallen comrades. Their tattered flags were fluttering in the gusting wind as the sign of their last bit of might and endless courage.

It was all about to be over as the few thousands remaining Demacians plunged into the ranks of the Angels. In merely a few seconds, their shouts as well as their bodies were devoured by the merciless flock. The entirety of the Demacian army was decimated. When the battlefield cleared, only a few shredded flags waved weakly amongst piles of dead bodies.

After hearing words of the Demacians' demise, Artrix, along with several other Champions stormed into Swain's headquarters. Caitlyn, Jayce, Riven and Irelia accompanied him.

"You! You liar, deceiver!" Artrix angrily accused.

Swain remained seated, both his hands resting upon his cane.

"I herald no lies, friend. I have specifically stated that they will be guarding our retreat and that they did. It is only the casualty of war Artrix I hope that you are aware. No one escapes unharmed," Swain responded.

"You withdrew the artillery and airships and abandoned them! This was your idea all along wasn't it Swain, you've always wanted Jarvan dead and now you got it!" Riven said.

"Do not accuse me of such petty treachery, Exile. this is a battle affecting us all. The artillery had to be retreated unless you wanted two entire armies destroyed instead of one. It was a sacrifice that had to be made, not spawned from some selfish desires," Swain said.

"The destruction of the Demacians will doom us. Without them, a third of our front line strength is gone," Jayce said.

"Then I suggest we continue with the plan. Unless you wish to sew chaos in the ranks and forgo everything we've done so far," Swain said.

"I knew you were a horrid man Swain, but never this low, what good would it be to continue to follow your commands? Lest they be more of your trickery and deception," Irelia said.

Swain scoffed. "Then do you have a better alternative? All of our forts, positions, troops and barriers have already been set in accordance of the plan. If you wish to steer away from it then I cannot stop you by force but then it will be known that it was you insubordinate bunch that doomed Valoran, not I."

Irelia grunted, her hands gripping her blades tightly as she held back her anger. The rest of the Champions had become silent albeit reluctant.

As the altercation continued, the deep rumbling of distant explosions and artillery fire roared, reminding everyone that the battle was not yet over. The window shuddered as though it was about to shatter into pieces each time a blast rang outside.

"If there are no further objections then I would like you to return to your posts," Swain triumphantly declared.

Without a word, the Champions exited, leaving only Artrix in the room.

"We had a deal yet you turn your back on me as soon as the battle starts?" Artrix confronted him.

"If I recall that all was said was that you would aid me in achieving this position and in return I will bring you victory. We have not lost, nor will we lose and you have already done your part, Artrix," Swain retorted.

"Yet you allow hundreds of thousands of good men to die at your hands, what victory can you gain from this? You are all but a traitor to your own words."

Swain, now slightly annoyed, stood up from his seat and swaggered towards Artrix. Then, his clothed face came into breathing distance of Artrix's ears.

"Listen to me boy, you may've been a god but here, you are my pawn. There was never even a proper deal, I only asked you to ensure that you would not oppose me until the battle. Even without you I could've become Grand Marshal if I so wanted," Swain sneered into his ears. "Rest assured I will defeat this enemy, and I expect you to desiring a victory too no? Then I suggest you do as instructed and complete your part."

A part of Artrix wanted to take up his blade and strike Swain down. His muscles ached for his blade but he reminded himself that he would not fall to the Noxian's level.

"I only hope that you understand if the men who are fighting to the death below loses while you seat up here, then we all lose," Artrix said before parting from the room.

"I'm well aware."

Outside the Institute, the troops had reformed their lines and manned the magically enchanted walls and forts. A few miles north of them the valley and the arcane storm raged on. Now, the Angels were entering but on foot as their flight capabilities were hindered greatly by the storm. In accordance to the plan, several rings of Summoners took position and began casting their traps over the Angels. Even inside the Valley itself, mines and hidden explosives were placed at all corners to inflict heavy damage to the angelic army. While Kayle knew of the risk of going through the valley, she also was well aware that geographically it would be the fastest way towards the Institute. She had desired a quick victory for the name of Heaven. She did not belief that a few mere mortals could accomplish much even if the Angels were in a disadvantageous situation. She commanded no mere army for it was an Army of Heaven.

As she pushed herself against the howling winds, she noticed a layer of yellow spreading over the valley. She knew this was Summoner magic but it daunted her not.

"Brave it. We cannot be stopped by mortal magic, continue onwards!" Kayle commanded.

While her words had held some truth to it, she did not foresee yet another of Swain's tricks. As the yellow shield spread, it then transmuted into a purple substance. She could feel the strength of it increasing at a frightening rate. It was a magic all too familiar to her, and a magic that she had dreaded to not encounter. It was Morgana.

"So you have finally decided to show yourself…" Kayle muttered.

The Black Shield around the valley wrapped tightly ensuring that the Angels could not break through it.

"General Kayle! This is another Angel's magic, how could this be?" a messenger reported to her.

"The work of my si- of Her," she corrected herself, "I will find her and I will end her once and for all. Continue the troops forward, this will be over quickly."

With that she took flight and summoned a divine shield around herself, bathing her body in holy light and soared upwards through the arcane storm before eventually reaching the barrier itself. The vile yet powerful black magic pulsed before her. She then summoned flames to her sword and charged at the purple translucent wall. It was truly a powerful magic, as she had expected from Morgana.

It took Kayle considerable effort but using her powers of an Archangel she was able to break through and for the first time able to see sunlight after escaping through that dark storm. Her felt the soft warmth caress her cheeks and for a second she had enjoyed it before returning her attention to her opponent. There, a hundred metres in front of her was Morgana. Underneath her a cloud of the darkest purple pulsated, allowing her to be midair. Morgana's wings have all been rotted away long ago after she had lost her Angelic status.

"So you are an Archangel now. Should I congratulate you or feel pity," Morgana began.

Kayle raised her sword at her. "Silence, you have no right to talk. A disgraced being such as you should not fly above the Angels. I will return you back to the ground where you belong."

Morgana raised her head slightly, her amethyst eyes glaring at Kayle.

"You have grown, but still you are no match for me. How many times have you tried in the past, I've always beaten you. I still remembered when you first cried, and that was from me," Morgana said with a faint smile.

Kayle was infuriated at Morgana's mentioning of their past.

"You will find me far exceeding you this time. I will kill you and this is where it finally ends."

Without missing a blink, Kayle soared forth faster than an arrow. Her wings gave out one mighty flap which propelled her as she glided through the cold air. In a less than a second, Morgana found Kayle's blade mere inches from her own heart before she dodged to the side, but just barely. Morgana was surprised at her sister's speed and agility. The last time they had fought she had remembered Kayle moving only at a tenth of what she is right now.

"Now you see what the power of an Archangel is? Surrender Morgana, and I will grant you a swift death," Kayle said.

Morgana smiled smugly. "Do you plan on talking or killing me? I haven't lost just yet."

With that, Morgana unleashed her own retaliation. From the tips of her fingers a bolt of dark energy came forth and flew towards Kayle. It swirled violently and twisted the very air around it, a powerful magic it was. However, Kayle did not seem to even have the notion of dodging. Instead, she raised her blade and promptly slashed the projectile in half, causing it to fizzle into nothingness.

Knowing that using her old tricks against Kayle would have no effect, Morgana prepared herself to fight at a level she hasn't fought in for a long time. She charged herself with an aura of pure arcane power as a maelstrom of dark energy consumed her. Kayle wasted no time and made another attack but this time, when she came close she was repelled by a concussive blast. When she recovered, Morgana had transformed from a Fallen Angel into the Angel of Death. Her rotten wings have returned in a form of two black engulfing infernos. The tip of her lengthened hair twisted and gnarled as though it had a will of its own. Her pale body was now shrouded by a dark cloak weaved from otherworldly materials. Her eyes too had changed from two dull specks into two piercing gems, brimmed with fiery malice.

Now fully unleashed, Morgana once again raised the tips of her fingers delicately at Kayle. This time however, instead of a singular bolt, multitudinous rivers of Dark Bindings surged forth from her. They arced and snaked from every single direction and prepared to entomb Kayle completely. It had forced her to fly left and right while taking evasive manoeuvres. One of the endless bolts managed to sneak past her sight which barely struck her if it were not for a quick repost of her blade. What the bolt disintegrated however, the shattered remnants formed new ones. The snares became many regenerating arms emerging from Morgana like a mystical serpent.

Kayle, knowing that decisive action must be taken, summoned a holy barrier around her own body. When the bolts came into contact with her, they completely dissolved into oblivion, not even able to regenerate. Now shielded, she surged forward while retaliating with her own spells. She launched several cataclysmic strikes at Morgana who had then brought forth her own Black Shield. Now, high in the sky, a chromatic display of spells danced like a beautifully choreographed performance. Sparks of magic crashed and exploded everywhere as the two speedily dashed about the air. Each of them had tried to gain the upper hand but could only result in a tie.

Below, the trapped Angels attempted to break out of the barrier with little success. Each time they would strike the arcane walls, they would shatter before immediately reforming. All the while Piltoveran artillery and airships was unleashing barrage after barrage of shells into the valley, bringing rocky avalanches crashing down on the Angels. It was all going accordingly to Swain's plans.

The duel between Morgana and Kayle had lasted for almost an hour with no progress. Now, both of them were tattered and exhausted. Kayle's golden armor was scratched and burnt all over the place and lost most of its former divine lustre. Morgana's dark cloak was torn and ripped and her fiery wings pulsed weakly. Their breaths were heavy yet their eyes were trained onto each other's.

"You have lost, Kayle, if you fail to kill me then your army cannot advance. They will be crushed in the valley," Morgana began, "Kayle, please, I implore you to see the light of this situation. Look closely at who you are serving. Othrius is a murderer, a tyrant. He will not care if Runeterra is destroyed and wiped off the cosmos. He will not care if billions of lives were extinguished in one night. Do you think that if you were to fail here today, he would let you go? He will kill you, just like any other."

Kayle grimaced. She clenched her teeth and grunted.

"I… I… I will not fail. You are wrong, you are wrong! You are delusional! I will lose to a Fallen Angel like you. You do not know what it is like to having been beat by someone like you all these years. You… You do not understand!" Kayle cried out.

"No, I do understand Kayle. I understand how you are, just as you know how I do. Do you know why? It is because I am your sister and you are mine. You cannot escape from that. Even if you say you are not, you know the truth. The truth is you do not want to serve him. You just don't know what to do. Leave Heaven and come back to Runeterra, Heaven does not deserve you. Seek the truth Kayle, please."

"No, I can't, I can't go back to being beneath you. I had sworn that I would end your life myself, and I will hold to that!"

"Kayle, you… I never saw you as beneath me, only as a dear sister. When you and I parted, you had sworn that you would kill me but do you know what I had sworn? That I would gain the power needed to one day return not to defeat you, but show you the truth," Morgana continued, "it's not too late Kayle. You can still make the choice, come back to us."

Kayle did not want to feel wanting to accept Morgana, she tried to supress it but she was on the edge of breaking. The flames on her sword withered away and her wings withdrew solemnly. She wanted to deny everything Morgana had said and disregard it as mere lies but she felt the truth in her words.

Morgana was before her, now completely defenseless as the last bit of her magic drained away.

"I have been your sister, and I still am, Kayle. I always will be until the day we die," Morgana softly said.

Kayle clenched her fist. Confusion bombarded her thoughts. Was it really not too late, she wondered. Then she cursed herself for even contemplating about it yet again she pondered wearily.

"Morgana, I…" she began when suddenly a bolt of divine lightning raged above from Heaven down onto Valoran before striking the barrier encasing the valley, completely shattering it.

The perpetual arcane storm that had thundered ever since the Rune Wars was for the first time in decades instantly cleared away, revealing the barren peaks of the mountainous range of the vast valley. High above beyond the stratosphere a heavenly gate materialized and slowly opened. From hence a stream of elite guards dressed in intricate garbs and armors flooded out and formed two lines, left and right, opposite of each other. Both Kayle and Morgana became horrified when they saw the Royal Guards with their golden banners held high.

From below, everyone saw through the cleared clouds the parade and fanfare high above. It was far more luxurious, vastly grander than Kayle's entrance. It was an entrance that befitted a King.

"Mortals of Runeterra, I present to you your Lord and King of Heaven, King Othrius! Kneel before the Lord!"