Letting the wave of sound pass over his head, Nathaniel felt his hair part to either side, and he only growled in response, his eyes burning even brighter as he closed on the white faces. Likewise, the flames behind him parted to let the sound through, before closing back together a second afterwards and sealing them back in. His brothers and sisters would stop it. He was only concerned with the incineration and purification of the heretics before him. “Let me give you a taste of the torture you shall receive,” he said with a smile on his face, almost demonic in nature himself. Like a noose, the barrier of flames started to move inwards, and seal Nathaniel in with his enemies in an arena.

With a loud creaking noise, Nathaniel’s hands curled into fists, the leather on them stretching against his skin as they glowed with flames. Letting out a roar of retribution, the archangel leapt forwards and used his wings to glide towards Abatu with speed that rivaled a hawk, his right fist drawn back and ready to strike. “FEEL THE WRATH OF THE HEAVENS!” he screamed as he punched towards the creature’s face, his hand crackling with blazing energy.