Despite her lack of strength, the weapon pierces the angel's skin effortlessly, sliding completely through her. She gives a single jerk, and a soft sigh, and then is gone, her body going limp. The blade is, likewaise, easily removed, only a think trickle of blood leaking from the wound, as if she were dead before the weapon actually pierced her skin.<em>Feringale's</em>head is, however, coated in the blood, though, oddly, it seems to fade away, extremely quickly, as if the metal of the blade were absorbing it.<br/><br/><em>Do not falter, young one,</em>the angel's voice says, softly, as Diadra lies on the floor, weeping.<em>They can harm me no longer, and, when you are dead, they will be unable to harm you, either. Your soul shall be restored, and cannot be severed again, while I protect you.</em><br/><br/>(Diadra recovers two negative levels, and gains immunity to level loss via soul-drain, as long as the angel protects her.)<br/><br/>When she realizes what's happened, the demon howls in utter fury. "Thirty YEARS, I waited, to capture that angel. THIRTY YEARS, of every day, having to walk by here, and feel her presence, TAUNTING ME. And now, after all this time, I finally have her captured, and YOU kill her? YOU KILLED HER!" She backhands Diadra with impressive force, knocking her back several feet, and likely jarring loose a couple of teeth. "Death will be too good for you, elf. In a few hours, you will<em>beg</em>me for death, but I will make sure you live to be tormented every, single, day, for THIRTY YEARS!"