The Demon screeched, holy blaze lighting it on fire, as it's physical body was ripped to shreds. The hooded figures on top lifted their hands, a great orb of purple energy forming to ward off the blast, but the beast they rode was destroyed. It's form flickered, as the essence of it's being shattered, energy returning to Hell. There it would become one with the natural energy of that realm, before it was given form once more. 

Slowly, the three figures hovered to the ground, their faces impossible to see beneath metal masks. And as they did, it became hard to look at them at all, as a steady headache built in those who would watch, an intrusion in the mind, a twitching in the arm. Tendrils of thought probed the edges of the consciousness, as Zio and Mira felt their thought being invaded, an alien presence fighting it's way through their resistance, attempting to dig into their memories, their hopes, and their motivations. As they moved, they felt their arms twitching, their eyes attempting to close, their weapons attempting to inch towards their heart. It was like arm-wrestling an invisible opponent, a battle of will to move even a step as the full force of the psychics was focused on the twins.

The sorcerer was killed, his head crushed and neck cut. Aeshma could feel his soul escape, dragged away to the depths of Hell. It had been claimed a long time ago, and would now be moving to it's new owner. No doubt an eternity of agony awaited the man, or at least the shadow that would remain of him inside his soul. A toy for some Demon Lord, to feed them more energy. A trophy for a collection. Unfortunately, it would not be his.