He doesn't know how it was done or if the people who were proven able do it exist here with the potential for the same power or if he'll still be in this timeline in a month. But he's been holding the Wound too, if not as long as they have. He understands. He will really try.

Then a few more of them will find the strength within themselves to stand and rejoin their comrades, and the rest will lay down and prepare to accept his magic.

Their voices are quieter now, whispers rather than shouts. Thank you, say some of them. Heavens blessings go with you, say others. Thank you, say still others.

Oh good, the not so fallen angels don't appear to obviously think that he's hideously mishandling everything and about to fall and be assumed directly into Hell or anything.

He will - attempt to do the - sleepy thing??

One by one, the corrupted angels begin to fall asleep. Slowly, as each angel begins to slumber, the gashes in the Wardstone begin to partially repair themselves — they're still present, still points of vulnerability, but no longer are they spreading poison within the stone. The Wardstone's light returns, starting at the center of the stone and spreading outward, until the whole stone is glowing with the light of the sun. Throughout the Wardstone, the remaining members of the host begin to rearrange their ranks, turning all their focus to the threats outside. 

And as the last of the fallen angels falls asleep, for a moment so does Blai.

He's watching the festival where he first woke up, but this time he's seeing it from another perspective. He can see his body, lying unconscious on a stretcher on the ground, with blood streaming from his chest wound. In his new perspective, he can feel that the eyes he's looking through belong to a winged woman, not fully human but not fully inhuman either. Surrounding his own body, the one on the ground, are four demons of various species, each roughly the height of a man; standing next to his new perspective is a dretch. All of them are invisible, himself included, but in the dream it doesn't matter to what he can see.

The woman whose eyes he's looking through is brimming with nervous anticipation, with little bubbles of hope in her chest fighting to come to the surface, only for her to shove them back down in fear. That's not the only thing she's feeling — there's disdain towards the festival-goers, contempt for Deskari's slaves, fondness towards the dretch — but it's by far the dominant one.

She waves her hand, and the demons next to Blai become visible, taking on human guises and picking up the stretcher. The dretch morphs into — the kind of useless halfling from the day of the festival? —

And then he's awake. His eyes have apparently closed, but he can feel wind blowing through his hair. The Wardstone is slightly warm beneath his hands.

WHAT THE FUCK

"Everything alright?" says Lann's voice.

"I am now detecting a much larger number of magical auras! Would you like me to list them?"

"I think I'm unharmed -" Is there any obvious emergency more important than Nenio's list.

Not obviously. When he opens his eyes, he sees that the room is bathed in sunlight. Some of that's from the Wardstone, which is blazing with golden-white light, but if he looks up a bit, some of it is also from the actual sun — the roof of the room has been completely blown off.

The Wardstone is growing warmer, and he can feel magical energy radiating from it, spreading through him and out into the room. 

Seelah is staring a few paces in front of the door, nearly motionless.

"I think it worked."

"Praise Iomedae!"

(The Count grimaces.)

okay, he's not sure what exactly just happened but he's pretty sure his group was on the wrong track

"The most interesting magical effect in this room is a powerful il—"

"There's someone here—"

In front of them, the air ripples, and Minagho appears. She's accompanied by more than a dozen other demons — babaus and schirs, brimoraks and vrocks. They're standing between Blai's party and the door, blocking the path for everyone but Thall. 

(There's no sign of Staunton Vhane.)

"Is this some kind of trick from your pathetic goddess?" She laughs bitterly. "Rest assured, the only thing she's bought you is a few extra moments of life."

The Wardstone's energy is still flowing through him. It feels a little like being clericed, insofar as there's a commonality to the sensation of being clericed by Iomedae and being clericed by Asmodeus. He'd probably be better at just about anything in this state — his attacks would be faster and stronger, he could survive Minagho's claws without issue, his spells will be more powerful, he could push its energy through his spent spell slots to cast them again—

That sounds really useful what with there being a FUCKING LILITU right THERE. Will a Burst of Radiance work on one - she acts like she can see - is the whatever-it-is souping up his spell power enough that they won't all just blink in time - he doesn't have time to second-guess an idea that isn't obviously insane. "Burst of Radiance."

The spell's shimmering light cuts into her skin more deeply than it has any right to. It's hard to tell if she's blinded, considering the lack of eyes, but every other demon in range of the spell certainly seems to be, and it doesn't exactly seem like she's carefully lining up her counterattack.

"Waves of Fatigue!" (If he's more tired than he was a moment ago, well, he still has more energy than a minute ago.)

Web! 

How fascinating! Every demon in the area appears to be stuck in the web.

She swings her sword, hitting several demons in a single strike—

He Greases the floor under a few of the non-flying ones, and they all trip over their own feet—