The conference meeting had been going on for just under an hour and England was starting to become extremely tense. It wasn't the fact that the France was holding this meeting, or the fact that he was sitting next to Russia. England could feel his shoulder blades aching which meant something was going to happen.

The nation had completely zoned out the discussion, but still managed to at least look interested in what America was going on about. The blonde was so out of it, that he didn't notice the brown eyed nation opposite him, watching England anxiously.

Japan noticed that the British nation was fidgeting; which isn't very gentlemanly like, so knew that something was troubling him. England didn't even curse when his scones were mentioned. Something was defiantly bothering the nation which made Japan worry.

The Brit tried to ignore the sensation which he was too familiar with, wishing that whatever the problem was that it would fade away and leave him be. But England wasn't lucky though, Ireland was, not him.

When England clenched his fist (under the table of course, he would not show his emotions to the rest of the nations) he felt something solid in his hand. Shit, his wand. Whatever the danger was, it was close. Why did it have to be at a meeting?

The Japanese nation tensed, once he noticed the Blonde in front of him frown toward the window. He swore his eyes where glowing, maybe it was just the light.

He looked furious and protective at the same time. Japan turned slowly around in his chair to see what caused such and expression, and then almost wished he hadn't.

The bright summer day was being eaten away by a rolling fog of darkness, that was quickly making it's was towards them. Whipping back round, he noticed that England was on his feet and seemed to be glowing.

The black wave engulfed the meeting room, sucking the energy out of the nations. They all simultaneously slumped onto the desk in front of them asleep.

As the wave crashed into England, he shone like a star for less than a second. When the light dispersed he was no longer England, but the Britannia Angel (technical still England, but oh well).

The angel almost sighed, he hated how silly he looked wearing a dress and sandals. he didn't sigh though, he was too busy though giving the upcoming demons fiery looks.

Each one was hideous in their own way. All emitted black smoke off thier skin. Everyone of them had the same eyes, almost completely black except from the burning red flames where the iris should be. All of them slightly bear like, except the crocodile like tail.

"Bunch of wankers, I don't usually like coming to Frog's place as it is, and you have gone and made it worse. There are more of you wankers than usual." At least 3 times as much. (Even though he is an angel he will still swear like when he was a pirate)

The demons growled stalking closer to the slightly self-conscious nation. England held his wand (sigh) as if it was a sword. To the country's relief it took shape of a cutlass, similar to the one which he used to fight with when battling Spain (as a pirate).

"If I remember correctly, my Britannia beam has little to no effect on you type of demons." A small smile came to England's face as the first demon pounced at him.

He dodged to the side, slashing off the demons hand. Black blood spilled out of the demons as it wiled in pain, but was quickly put out of its misery when England beheaded the beast. The blood flowed onto the floor making a hissing sound, which reminded England that their blood was acidic.

The demons crowded around the angel, swinging their gigantic claws in hope to tear him open. Much to the demons dismay, the nation continued to block their attacks and countered easily. The blonde was agetting cocky, until the demons turned their attention to the other nations which were out cold.

Desperate for no one to get hurt, England flung his sword into the back of the head of one of the creatures; which had gone after Germany. At this exact moment in time a demon took this opportunity to attack the unarmed angel, making deep gashes in his side. He winced, but only for a moment as he reached out his hand and the sword flew back into his grasp. " "Bugger! You'll pay for that!"

England swiftly moved underneath the gigantic monster and thrusted his sword upwards, causing it to go through the monsters head. He sucked in a sharp breath, as the demons blood spilled on to him.

More and more of the beasts kept coming ,but the brave nation fought on. He had been fighting these things for most of his life. He still managed to defend the oblivious nations while slaying the monsters, almost laughing when each one turned into ash. He was glad that it wasn't a world conference as it would be a lot harder to protect them.

The country had almost defeated all the demons, but there was one left and this one was different to the others. It was taller but slender compared to the others. This one Britain had met before, it was responsible for the thin scars that went down the angels back.

The demon lunged at England's throat but was just too slow. The two enemy's fought so fast that here actions became blurred. England was happy that in his form he was more nimble and agile, or there would be a lot more new scars to his already massive collection.

England managed to slice the tail of the beast, causing it to howl and to grow in anger. The demon's fiery eyes laid on America deciding to take its anger out on him.

Britain saw what the monster was planning, but didn't have enough time to think clearly. What his body automatically did was to put himself in front on his former younger brother and act as a shield.

The demon bit down on England's shoulder, causing the venom to flow into his blood. The country refrained from screaming, biting hard down on his lip. He had to scream as what the demon did next though.

The beast took hold on the angel's pure white wings and ripped them out of their sockets. England couldn't move, that fucking demon still had its teeth sinking into England's collar bone, anchoring him down. The country's grip loosened slightly on his sword, but only for a moment.

The Brit clenched down onto his sword, and with every ounce of strength left in his body, lunged his sword into the demons hearts. The acidic blood sprayed onto the nation, not that he noticed.

England tired green eyes looked up into the demon's. The flame slowly going out, until they were gone.

Pure joy came to the angel face as the beast turned into ash, and he could finally stop fighting. He let himself lose consciousness, falling backwards, his head resting against America's leg.