[@Snarfulblast][@Tyki][@Teoinsanity][@ShadowVentus][@supertinyking][@Wraithblade6]
The Daemon Prince simply ignored the supposed cracks opening in the anti-psyker's aura. They were of no consequence, he would tear this creature to pieces with sheer brute force. He would annihilate it in the name of Chaos Undivided. A simply trophy to hang on his walls, a stolen soul to parade before the Dark Powers. This creature was no more than a minor annoyance, a being whom's very existence was a denial of the one, absolute truth. The truth that in the end, all was consumed by the power of Chaos.

With every casual swing of his blade, the Daemon Prince caused a small hurricane, the power of his swing tearing houses in half and opening chasms in the ground without ever touching them. As Stephen was forced back, unable to inflict any harm and inches from death with every swing of the immense Power Sword, the Daemon Prince gained more and more ground. Laughing, the creature gestured at Stephen, as a dozen cars shot at him from the street. Telkinetically hurled vehicles smashed into him, or where he had been. Despite having been thrown by psychic power, the cars themselves posed a far more physical threat to the Blank. The Daemon Prince found the entire ordeal to be a diversion, a small sidestep as he prepared to sacrifice this world to his Chaos Gods.

[I]"Wanna kill a Grey Knight Paladin? We got one near here that's taken a pretty hefty beating. So if you want to kill him follow me or find him by yourself."[/I]

The creature looked up, and sure enough, it could sense the presence of a Grey Knight. The most foolish of his former battle brothers, who dedicated their worthless lives to the defeat of Chaos above all other threats. He grinned, knowing he had found more worthy prey. "It looks like playtime is over, mortal. I'll end this quickly." The Daemon Lord gestured, and the ground trembled. The houses around Stephen shook, and he knew already that he would be crushed between the buildings. It was unavoidable, really. The Daemon Prince was nigh unbeatable in melee, and even with a purely defensive stance he'd barely been able to survive. The inevitable conclusion of such a battle loomed before him, as the ground rose up to trap him, the cars and houses flying towards his position with intent of crushing him to pulp.

It then that a timely intervention presented itself. A strange sound echoed through the city, and the Daemon Lord seemed to be forced back a step, as if by some kind of impact. The houses slowed, now rolling over the ground rather than shooting towards him, as the entire death-grip devolved into a loosely thrown bunch of debris. A second word sounded, and the Daemon Prince roared. But it was only once the words became a continuous chant that their effects could truly been seen. Every word was greater than the last, and had greater effect. The Daemon's body began to shake, as lines and runes appeared on it as if burned into it's flesh. It dropped down, roaring, as word after word battered the essence of it's being. Seeking not to destroy it, but to do the very next best thing. To banish his consciousness to the very depths of the warp, from which he could not return in the coming ten thousand years. And each word struck like a hammer blow, bashing the great Prince to the ground, shattering his power and burning his skin.

Lesser Daemon were banished within moments, Greater Daemon banished after enduring many words. But the Daemon Prince stood to face it all, enduring the torment, enduring the agony. However, even if the Words of Banishment would not defeat the Daemon Prince, Stephen found himself free to do as he wished. His weapons would be no more effective than they were moments ago, but the Daemon Prince lay weakened. His form disturbed, his power drained, and his mind beaten into submission by the Words of Banishment. If Stephen had anything in his pocket, this might be his one and only chance of defeating the Daemon Prince.