Mihael had fought Balabael before. No, he'd killed the god. Balabael, the supreme god of tomes.
And as far as he was concerned, the god should have been dead.
"You did well for a demon," Balabael said, jumping behind, sprouting wings, massive wings, far bigger than typical high angels. Small bullets formed on the tip of his sword and shot out, but they could hardly penetrate Mihael's darkness.
"That so," Mihael stared up, up at the god who'd been looking down on him.
"Yes, but it ends now. You see, I had this place specially crafted. After all, demons are weak to the light of heaven…" A smile. "But- we are not!" He proclaimed; arms spread. The light immediately grew very, very bright, almost blinding. "So, please die." A whisper. Something formed over his head, slowly. Blindingly bright, even more than the whole room, an orb. It slowly materialized into a thin spear-
And then disappeared.