Need a Title

I need help on the title of a book I just finished writing.

Beyond the reaches of civilization, the thick woods teeming with diverse flora provided a haven for those fleeing the chaos of war. These valiant beings had exhausted their efforts to quell the terrible conflict, yet their attempts were in vain. Soldiers from disparate realms perished, united in their shared instinct for survival and the preservation of their species. A clash between Demons and Archangels ensued, a confrontation more devastating than any strife wrought by humans.
The once verdant field was now stained with the blood of the fallen. Motionless bodies littered the landscape, with scarcely a breath to be heard. Amidst the carnage, two figures stood—a lone angel and a solitary demon, each at the brink of their endurance. Gasping for air, they faced each other, a mere ten feet apart, divided by the silent ranks of their fallen comrades. Sweat mingled with blood on their weary faces, while wounds marred their flesh, testament to the ferocity of their battle. The Archangel clutched her sword, summoning her remaining strength, as Ja' Seth poised his flame-enshrouded blade, bracing for the final confrontation.
"Depart from this place, Ja' Seth! Your actions have wrought destruction beyond measure! This war ends now!" declared the Archangel, her defense unwavering. "What madness drove you to ignite such a senseless conflict?"
"Simple," Ja' Seth replied, his voice betraying the gravity of the Great War. "A prophecy foretold is at stake, one I am determined to thwart. It speaks of an Archangel of Hope who will rise at the destined moment to vanquish all deemed sinful, demons included." With a swift gesture, he brushed back his hair, revealing eyes ablaze with blood-red fury. "Yet, the identity of this harbinger remains unknown to me."
"You vile fiend!" she bellowed, her charge fueled by righteous indignation. "Your justification is feeble! Prophecies unfold as they must, and this one shall not be hindered by your desires!" Her blade caught the moon's glow, casting a radiant light upon her silver armament.
"Then let us determine who shall conclude this strife as the victor!" Ja' Seth advanced with relentless force, his weapon leading the charge. Their cries pierced the silence until, in an instant, all was still. The Angel stood transfixed, her body impaled by the demon's sword, disbelief etched upon her face. Ja' Seth whispered his chilling parting words, "It seems victory is mine, fallen being." Withdrawing his blade, he watched as she collapsed beside her brethren.
His laughter resonated through the night's chill, a haunting echo of his triumph. Unfurling his wings, Ja' Seth ascended, leaving the battlefield behind with a malevolent grin. Unbeknownst to him, a sole survivor remained—the very essence of the Archangel of Hope. A young girl, no older than eight, emerged from the forest's edge, approaching the stricken Archangel. Her tiny hands reached for the golden Cross adorning the Archangel's chest, its center adorned with a ruby-red jewel.
Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she wept softly. The Archangel, blood trailing from her mouth, spoke with labored breath, "Child, take this cross—" Gently, she dislodged the necklace, placing the gleaming Cross in the girl's trembling hands. "This Cross shall guide you to the prophecy's fulfillment. My vow to protect you stands fulfilled. May the Gods favor you... my daughter." With that, her hand dropped to the blood-soaked earth, her eyes closing as she drew her final breath.
"MOTHER! NOOOOO!!!" The girl with azure tresses pressed her face against her mother's still heart, her tears a torrent of grief. Amidst her sobs, she vowed retribution against the Demon responsible for this atrocity—the one who decimated legions. "I swear, Mother, your death shall be avenged, even if it is the last act I perform in this world."

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