The throne room atop the towering spire was a macabre masterpiece crafted from the skulls and bones of vanquished foes. This chilling monument to Lucifer's might overlooked a world in turmoil; the earth below teemed with his demonic legions. Demons of varied grotesque forms, some with twisted horns and lashing tails, roamed amidst the chaos. Humans, elves, and orcs, now bearing the infernal traits of their conqueror—tails and horns—scrambled in the madness.

Lucifer sat upon his throne, a figure of imposing elegance. His tall, handsome form was clad in black metal armor adorned with red linings that seemed to drink in the light. Glowing red eyes surveyed his dominion with an air of detached amusement, and a cigarette hung loosely from his lips, its smoke curling up like a wisp of his thoughts.

Suddenly, the air behind him stirred. Azazel, his general, descended from the skies above. His tall, elven body was highlighted by the dark, feathery wings unfurling from his back. Golden hair contrasted sharply with the blackness of his robes, a beacon of ominous beauty in the dim light of the throne room.

"Your Majesty," Azazel's voice was a blend of respect and urgency. 

"The forces of the Church, led by Hero Ryojin and the archangel Gabriel, advance towards us with alarming speed."

Lucifer turned slowly, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. The cigarette bobbed as he chuckled, his eyes alight with a cruel glee.

"So, the big goat is leading the sheep to the slaughterhouse, how cute," he mused, his voice dripping with condescension. The tone suggested not worry, but a predator amused by the bravado of its prey.

The horizon was ablaze with golden explosions, streaked with white lightning and engulfed by waves of holy flames. It was a spectacle of divine wrath clashing against demonic chaos, a testament to the escalating conflict.

Witnessing the same apocalyptic vision, Azazel turned towards his lord. 

"What are your orders, Your Majesty?" he inquired, a note of anticipation in his voice.

In response to Azazel's question, Lucifer chuckled softly, a sound that resonated with dark amusement. 

"Don't do anything," he said casually as if discussing the weather rather than a battle that could decide the fate of realms.

Azazel's expression faltered for a moment, surprise etching his features. 

"Your Majesty?" he echoed, seeking clarification. The corners of Lucifer's mouth twitched upwards in a sly smile. 

"The demons have grown weak and lazy," he explained with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Only through facing the brink of annihilation will a new, stronger, and more fearsome breed of demons can rise,"

After hearing Lucifer, Azazel's expression shifted from confusion to admiration, a newfound understanding dawning in his eyes. 

"Your foresight is unparalleled, Your Majesty," he intoned, his voice rich with awe. "You see not just the battle before us, but the war that shapes our very essence."

Then, with a fluid motion, Azazel extended his hand, casting a spell.

"Mirror of Isilde" Soon, a large, shimmering mirror materialized in the air, its surface rippling like a tranquil pond disturbed by a stone. The mirror revealed the battle raging at the outskirts of Lucifer's kingdom, a chaotic maelstrom of violence and divine fury.

In the mirror, Ryojin, a warrior of stoic demeanor, stood prominently. He wielded a golden katana, its blade singing through the air with lethal grace. His black hair was short, a stark contrast to the simple robes that adorned his battle-hardened frame. 

Beside him, Gabriel, the golden-haired elven warrior, shone like a beacon. His shiny metal armor, now stained with the blood of fallen demons, gleamed under the tumultuous sky. In his hands, a long sword pulsed with shimmering energy, each swing an arc of devastating power.

Meanwhile, the church's holy forces were a diverse amalgamation of races and roles. Archers with bows of radiant light stood ready, their arrows infused with holy wrath. Warriors, clad in blessed armors, moved with purpose, their weapons a blur of righteous retribution. Siege machines, etched with sacred runes, hurled projectiles that exploded in bursts of divine light upon impact.

"Blade of the Righteous," Ryojin cast a spell on his weapon in the heat of battle.

Instantly, his katana glowed with a golden aura slicing through demonic flesh like air. 

On the other hand, Gabriel unleashed his own spell with a commanding shout.

"Celestial Barrage," 

Once he cast the spell, his sword sent waves of radiant energy that tore through the demon ranks, leaving trails of searing light in their wake.

"Stand firm, for the light shall prevail!" Ryojin's voice boomed across the battlefield, rallying the troops.

"We cleanse this land with holy fire!" Gabriel roared his sword, a whirlwind of divine fury.

Amidst the ranks of the holy church's army, an elder mage stood out, his presence commanding despite his age. Clad in long white robes that fluttered with each gesture, his gray beard seemed to hold the wisdom of the ages. In his hands, a long staff served as a conduit for his formidable power.

With a series of fluid, practiced motions, the elder unleashed spell after spell upon the demon army. Blazing with pure white flames, fireballs arced through the air, exploding upon impact and engulfing demons in their holy inferno. He summoned meteors that streaked across the sky, trailing white flames, before crashing down with devastating force. Most strikingly, he conjured angels shaped from flames, their fiery wings beating as they dove into the demonic ranks, incinerating everything in their path.

"Hey, demon king!" the elder shouted, his voice cutting through the cacophony of battle. "Your days are numbered! Your minions fall like wheat before the scythe!"

Overhearing the taunt, Azazel unfurled his black, feathery wings, their span casting a shadow over the surroundings. His eyes blazed with a lethal light, and his voice was cold and merciless.

"That old fool has a death wish," Azazel hissed, his words dripping with killing intent. 

"I will rip him from limb to limb,"

Meanwhile, Lucifer calmly raised his hand, effortlessly halting Azazel's vengeful advance. 

"Every army has these clichés," he remarked dryly, "those who believe they can take on the final boss."

He chuckled, a sound devoid of mirth, and took a long, contemplative drag from his cigarette. The smoke curled languidly in the air, mingling with the ominous aura that surrounded him.

"But they can't even withstand a single hit from the boss," Lucifer mused, his voice laced with a cold, undisguised contempt.

With a cold smile playing on his lips, he snapped his fingers. In the mirror, a moment of stark, brutal finality unfolded. A black lightning bolt, seemingly conjured from the void itself, struck the elder mage. The elder's figure was instantly engulfed, his taunts and spells silenced in an instant, as he was reduced to nothing but a pile of ashes.

Immediately, Gabriel and Ryojin stiffened, their battle-hardened expressions betraying a deep familiarity with Lucifer's devastating spells. Gabriel's eyes narrowed, a flash of recognition crossing his features, while Ryojin's grip on his katana tightened, his stance bracing for the unforeseen.

Gabriel turned to Ryojin, his voice tinged with steely resolve. "That was Lucifer's handiwork. We must be wary of his direct involvement."

"His power is unmatched, but our resolve remains unshaken. We fight on." Ryojin nodded, his eyes scanning the battlefield. 

Around them, the holy church forces were a mix of shock and determination. A young archer gasped, "Did you see that? The elder... just gone!"

A grizzled warrior beside him clenched his fist. "We can't falter now. For every fallen, we must rise stronger!"

Meanwhile, the demons, upon witnessing their king's intervention, erupted in a cacophony of triumphant roars and cheers. 

"Behold the might of our king!" Said a towering demon with horns twisted like a crown. 

"The holy ones tremble before our lord Lucifer! Victory is ours!" Another, smaller demon, its eyes alight with glee, cackled.

The mere glimpse of Lucifer's overwhelming power had a palpable effect on the battlefield. Energized by their king's direct intervention, the demons surged forward with renewed ferocity. Their roars and battle cries filled the air, a tangible wave of renewed confidence and aggression. The front lines of the holy church forces buckled under this unexpected onslaught, their formations beginning to fracture under the demons' relentless push.

Gabriel, Ryojin, and the remaining elders of the holy church recognized the gravity of the situation. They exchanged glances, their faces etched with a grim understanding that what they had just witnessed was only a fraction of Lucifer's true capabilities.

"That was but a taste of the darkness we face. We must not underestimate him." Gabriel's voice was a calm amidst the storm. 

"Lucifer holds power beyond our imagination, but we must not lose heart. Our faith is our shield." Ryojin nodded.

The elders murmured in agreement, their eyes reflecting a mix of fear and determination. 

"We knew this wouldn't be easy," one elder stated firmly. "We fight not just with swords and spells, but with the strength of our convictions."

As the battle raged on, the holy church's forces, undeterred by the demons' renewed ferocity, began to unveil their own hidden trump cards.

"Now is the time," Gabriel urged, his eyes burning with a fierce determination. 

"Unleash the crystals! Let the angels join our fight!"

The elders and high-ranking mages started chanting in unison, their voices weaving a powerful incantation that resonated with the very essence of the battlefield. From their midst, they brought forth crystals, pulsating with a radiant energy, the encapsulated essence of angels.

Upon the release of the angels from the shattered crystals, the holy church soldiers witnessed a sight that bolstered their spirits like never before. These beings, composed of pure light, their forms humanoid yet blurred and obscured by their intense luminosity, unfurled wings of ethereal light. 

"By the Gods, the angels have come to aid us!" exclaimed a young soldier, his voice a mixture of reverence and disbelief.

"The tide turns in our favor!" another shouted, lifting his weapon high, inspired by the celestial reinforcements.

On the other hand, the demons recoiled in horror and despair as the angels descended upon the battlefield. Their grotesque forms writhed and disintegrated upon contact with the pure light of the celestial beings.

"No! What are they?!... They burn!" screeched a demon, its form dissolving into shadows as a beam of light enveloped it.

"We can't stand against them!" cried another, panic and fear evident in its distorted voice as it too, lost its life to the angels' radiant onslaught.

The angels, guided by the will of the holy church, descended upon the battlefield. Their touch was both a balm to the wounded of the holy forces and a searing blaze to the demonic ranks. Wherever they passed, the tide of the battle shifted dramatically. Demons recoiled and faltered under their radiant onslaught, the dark tide beginning to ebb.

High above, Lucifer observed the unfolding scene, his expression unreadable. The impact of the angels on the battlefield was undeniable, a testament to the church's hidden strength. Slowly, with a grace that belied his power, he stood up from his throne. His red eyes glowed ominously as he gazed upon the chaotic battlefield through the mirror.

"Seems like I have to greet them personally," he murmured before lighting another cigarette.