My most fond recollection is one particular time when an Angel warrior came fighting his way through the ranks destroying everything in his path with a flaming sword. He must have been one of the seraphim. Seraphim are particularly dangerous enemies who are chosen among the ranks of generals and great captains by your god. Anyway, my lesser creations were no match for this great warrior. He slaughtered many of them.
He reminded me much of how Beelzebub had first won my admiration and I could tell he was out for glory.
He was on a roll and after slaughtering countless of my lesser beings under Legion’s command, he caught sight of Legion and through his own arrogance decided he would make an end of him, not knowing his great secret, of course.
Oh, it is such a fond memory! This arrogant bastard, while Beelzebub was already occupied with a couple of seraphim (for even the seraphim would not dare attack Beelzebub alone) saw that Legion had seemingly strayed a little away from the battle having just put an end to a small group of angels who had foolishly attacked him.
His chest must have doubled in size as he decided to take on Legion by himself. He swooped away from the battle, his eyes full of fire, which was fuelled through god’s wrath, and swiftly approached Legion swinging his flaming sword lustfully like he was god himself.
They sparred for an age and others left them to it. Finally Legion feigned to tire and flee, leading him further astray from the battle. Beelzebub, having finished the two seraphim, saw him and grinned, knowing the inevitable outcome. The champion pursued and came onto Legion, ever more determined; filled with the passionate lust of battle, he bore down upon Legion with all the force he could muster.
Legion countered his blow. He then toyed with him for a while longer, allowing this champion of the seraphim to think he was getting the better of him, whilst all the time, subtly leading him further and further away from the main battle until at last, the Seraphim, thinking the victory blow, struck with his sword for a final time.
Legion waited until he was in mid-strike, knowing he would then be most vulnerable. And just as the anticipated smell of victory was entering this champion’s nostrils, Legion suddenly became full of life, countered his blow and came crashing down upon him with six thousand maces.
As all was revealed and the seraph saw, in the eternity of a moment as one sees before all ends, how foolishly he had acted and what a fool he had been to have fallen for such a trap. Then, the glorious moment was gone along the fire that fed his life-force. The seraph crumbled and was no more. Hence became the fate of many warriors, but none were as mighty as this great champion seraph; he was Legion’s greatest prize; Beelzebub’s pride; and my greatest joy.
In this short epic fantasy/satire, the devil gives his account of what went on when he fell from grace. He speaks of how it all began and depicts God as the culprit. Witness the powers of the heavens in majestic battles between angels and demons as he retells the story.