Ella heard the high-pitched scream which ended in a loud splash below. Startled, she opened her eyes and got distracted and the tall piling tsunami almost tumbled forward.

No, no, no, not Rouge...

She looked up, her spiritual eyes still receptive, and glared at the monstrous principality before her. He was smirking so evilly that Ella wished she could shove poop into that his proud, abysmal mouth.

She took a frantic glance around. All the angels were so preoccupied fighting off one demon or the other.
Even, Pagiel, Rouge's guardian was busy aiming and shooting arrows at super speed.
He seemed to sense too that something had gone wrong with his ward because he looked in the direction of her fall. But the demons were closing in and he had to fight.

Although dexterous and well armed, it was clear that the heavenly host were greatly outnumbered.

With holy rage boiling in her and with a roar of desperation, Ella shoved the mass of tsunami wave back with all the power in her. It crashed loud.
Some of the unclean mer-spirits, those who had been also at work, fueling the rise of the tsunami, were momentarily disoriented. On seeing the cause of the hullabaloo, the replacement sacrifice, Rouge Clatrava, bobbing up and and down in the water, they drew closer, clustering, wanting to be the one who would capture this sacrifice and present her personally to the lord Dagon. But the spiritual force field, although rapidly diminishing in strength due to her sinking faith, was still around her. They hissed in pain and backed off  after several failed attempts to grab her up close.

Ella saw it all.
What to do? What to do? What to do?
She panicked.

What she knew as the only possible solution was something she had never attempted before. It just came like an emergency flash of inspiration. What if it didn't work?
With a mustard seed faith, she cupped her hands and raised it.
A huge boat, entirely made of water, fashioned right before her eyes.

Then, she fisted her hand. It froze.

She would have been impressed by this new improvement/addition to her water-wielding ability, but there was no time to be impressed.

Concentrating on the task at hand, she willed her spiritual-night-vision gaze to spot Rouge in the raging waters below. Finally, she did. The waters were dunking the poor struggling girl over and over. Rouge obviously knew nothing about swimming.

"Lord Jesus, please, please please," was all Ella could mutter as she tried to repeatedly to use the ice vessel she had formed to scoop out the girl from the water.
If only Rouge would stop trashing and stay still for a bit.

Ella bent on her knees, tottering slightly over the edge, trying to concentrate.
Time was running out fast. Rouge was beginning to weaken.

"Oh, Lord Jesus, please save us, please..."
Ella was already shedding hot tears.
She was numb, oblivious to the hard pelts of rainfall that hit her skin like hail.

"Wait, daughter."

Ella almost cried out in relief.
At last! It was Him.
That was His voice again. Unmistakable. Calm. The Redeemer.

In this midst of this maddening and terrifying confusion, his voice was like a cool salve on a scalding burn.
He was here just as he had promised. He'd said He would never leave. He wasn't lying.
Replacing the fear, unearthly calm, especially given the circumstances, washed over Ella's heart.

"Just do as I say, my daughter. Follow my lead."

Ella took a deep breath in, waiting, even though it was hard and she knew her friend was most likely dying in that slowly-heating-up water—the lava had resumed their former course.

"Now!" came the authoritative whisper.

Ella tried the motion again, her heart filling with faith.
Eureka!
The ice boat carried the limp form of Rouge and rocked in rhythm with the tide.

Next was the problem of bringing her up. The boat would begin to melt anytime soon as the temperature of the water steadily rose.

"Spring of water," the Redeemer's voice said. And she thought she could feel him smiling a proud smile.

Could she do it?

I can't, Lord. That's even tougher than making ice. But... Jesus, I trust in you.

With her left hand she sustained the form of the ice boat, with her right, she created a strong geyser thingy that pushed the boat up.
Her arms were beginning to ache terribly under the strain.

As she was contemplating how to get Rouge out of the boat—both her hands were intensely preoccupied—she watched as Pagiel swiftly dived in to the scene and assisted to push the boat over, before another stupid demon came lashing at him again. He brought the imp down with one stab of his arrow and it disappeared in a puff of black.
He gave Ella a sympathetic smile that only soldiers on a battle field could understand, and a brief nod of his head. Then he rose with a powerful unfurling of his wings to join the other warriors to win this spiritual war.

Ella rushed over to Rouge. The ice boat and spring, fell back down.
She felt for a pulse. It was faint. The girl was hardly breathing; her lungs were filled with water and her airways were clogged.

Ella did a sloppy CPR, praying under her breath for Rouge to come around.
Rouge spluttered and coughed out water that came out of her mouth and nose. Then she sneezed and a bone-wracking shiver convulsed through her body. The cold night had taken its toll on the poor girl.

"Take her inside," the voice of the Redeemer commanded.

The battle still raged fiercely.

The trio had joined forces and were delivering offensive blows on Dagon but he was proving remarkably stubborn and resilient. Leviathan, Behemoth and the Queen of the Coast were diverted by Kristel, Pagiel and Jael respectively.

Ella could understand the angelic host's plan. Strike the leader and the hirelings would either dissipate or submit in terror.

She lifted Rouge up with effort to lean on her shoulder—she herself was so weak and the cold was beginning to affect her as well—and half-dragged, half-carried her into the church, ducking to avoid the throes of battling forces that were all around in the spiritual plane, not sure exactly what to expect anymore.

She noticed that the door at the front was open.
She plodded in and saw immediately that her friends were inside, praying seriously on the altar. Just like she had supernaturally known immediately they'd landed here.  The glow from the angelic beings that surrounded the five people she'd come to treasure in such a short period of time made her almost unaware that there had been a power outage.

She endured the pain throbbing through her strained shoulder muscles, bore Rouge all the way up to the front pews and noisily hoisted her onto a row of chairs. The girl was out cold, but her breathing—which had been coming out in laboured wheezes—was beginning to steady.

It was Matthew that noticed her first.
He'd heard the sound of dragging coming closer and the heaping of something heavy on the chairs.
It was partly dark, the only illumination coming from their phone's flashlights which they'd placed on the glass pulpit.

When their eyes met, his eyes widened, like he was seeing a ghost.

"ELLA?!" he shouted, unable to contain himself.

Yes, Ella.
The lady before him was totally drenched from head to toe. Her purple 'bridesmaidal' gown was unrecognisable, smeared with dirt and torn at the edges. Her eyes had lost its unique lilac sparkle, heavy with something he couldn't quite name. Shock? Pain? Extreme fatigue?
But still, this was the very girl his heart had been restless over for the past three days. He had spent the past three days praying for her and examining himself. God had been speaking to him more. Explaining to him why he'd sent him back to Ivory Island. Why he'd made him cross paths with this enigma called Ella.

She was major reason why they were all here in the middle of the night in this terrible storm.
God had finally answered their prayers and brought her back!

The others opened their eyes in anticipation and incredulity when they heard Matthew shout out her name.
They turned and saw her. Exclamations of surprise and joy echoed through the hall. 

Like mice to cheese, they scampered to her and began asking a million questions at once, the dominant ones being how she had gotten here and who this strange, unconscious girl she had dragged here with her was. 

Deborah was still prostrate on the altar, crying and groaning aloud in the spirit. Jeremiah glanced in her direction, his face unable to disguise the concern he felt for his wife.
Matthew looked tenderly at Ella and she also gazed back, unable to stop the tears of relief that filtered through her eyes at being back in familiar territory.

Ella couldn't put it in words, but she hastened to explain the pressing issue at hand.
"Everyone, listen. There's a terrible spiritual war going on right now. We have to pray!" she cried demonstrating with her hands. Her voice was hoarse from the cold.

They all nodded solemnly, understanding. It was time to take up their weapon of all-prayer. God help them. This was no time for rejoicing yet.

Together, they moved up quickly to the altar and continued praying, this time more fervently. Ella prayed the loudest.

~~~

We have the unction of the Holy One...

We can do all things through Christ...

And we shall decree a thing and it shall be established....

Why do the heathen rage and the people imagine a vain thing against the Lord and against His anointed?

...

Like a flash, Ella's understood what the pivotal moment that would assure victory was.

The seal.

She unclasped it from her neck and held it in both hands as she continued to pray fervently.

More Holy-Spirit-inspired prayer points began to roll in.

"We unleash the host of heaven to break every ancient covenant that is speaking against this land. We release the fire of the Lord to descend upon the company of the enemy and to destroy their agenda."

~~~

Manuel received the signal.

It was time to detonate the missile.
The angel smiled. Finally.

You want dirty, Dagon? Here, have your treat.

The angel released the first spiritual missile happily.
It hit Dagon bull's eye, right at the sweet spot—his iron-scaled chest.

The whole battle stood still. The atmosphere became tense, as if the air had been sucked in.
Angels looked in anticipation, demons in dread.

Dagon recoiled and was stumbled backwards due to the force of the explosion.
He tried to shake it off but ended with a loud groan of agony. A big hole had melted through his chest region. Liquid poured through the massive wound. Blood.
It wasn't healing as it normally should have.
Defiant, Dagon tried to regain his stamina.

But again, the trio saw their chance and used their signature battle antic.
They merged their spirits as one, fueled by the prayers of the saints, by the decrees of the Word, by the unction of the Holy One who commanded them to conquer.
Lightning, fire and water swirled into one fearful massive wave.

They advanced, shredding him to pieces in a twinkling of an eye. With one final howl of defeat, he was sent spiralling down automatically to his former cage, the icy barren dungeon.
This time around with greater restrictions. A bigger chain. A thicker barrier. No access of communication to any being, either spiritual or otherwise. He was reserved unto the day of judgement.
The only thing which could be a crack for him to resurface would be if any human being summoned him and offered him/herself.

Everything stood still. Even the storm.

Suddenly, as if a switch had been turned on, all the demons began to retreat with loud shrieks of fear. 

Leviathan, Behemoth and Queen of the Coast were the worst hit. Paralyzed, they couldn't believe that it had all failed.
Hundred years of planning and waiting was wasted. They too were doomed to be in captivity till judgement.
The trio personally transported them to their own dungeons. The Dry Place.

Ella heard the angelic cheer first.

Pastor Mike, also sensitive to the spiritual frequency, announced with joy that they should begin to praise God. The victory was won.

The time was 3:37am. Ivory Island was safe and unaware of it all. 

**********
Author's note: Can I hear somebody say, GLORY!!! 🥳🥳🥳💥💥💥🎊🎊🎊🎉🎉🎉

Oh, finally, we have kicked the lead villains off the scene.😆 It felt so good to write about the demonic horde's defeat. Aya! Go angels! Go Jesus, the Lord of Host!⚔️🗡️

And ooooh! Ella has discovered an upgrade to her power. Ice? Nice. 😉
Who else is happy that at least Rouge didn't drown completely and die. 🙂

If you had a chance the have a supernatural power, what would you love it to be?🤔

Just remember that the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, for we wrestle not against flesh and blood. Trying to fight a spiritual battle with a physical effort is a death sentence. Only those who fight on their knees will have the victory in the realm of the spirit. 🔥🔥🔥

It's not yet over. The story might soon end in the next few chapters. But who can tell? 🤭
Watch out for more. We still have many pending issues to deal with.😎

Let me know if this chapter has blessed you in any way. Comments. PM. Shout out. Tag friends. Spread the word. And make that orange star to glow. 💫

See ya!🙋
*Hops away*.🏃