The Broken Halo

"Which god gave you the divinity that was used in Sunshear?"

For a moment, Varga’s fury faltered.

Of all the things the demon could have asked, that question was the last he expected.

Why did he care which god the divinity belonged to?

More importantly, how did he know the weapon was called Sunshear?

That name was used only by Ironcrest’s command staff and the Runemasters responsible for maintaining the weapon. No soldier had shouted it on the battlefield, and no mark bearing its name could be seen on the cannon’s exterior.

Simon was a demon, and he was not meant to know.

Questions crowded Varga’s mind, but the blood spreading beneath his boots pulled his attention away from them.

Mirela was dead.

His officers were dead.

Every human who had stood in the chamber with him had been killed in moments, and the demon responsible now stood across the command table as though their lives had possessed no value.

His confusion disappeared beneath his rage, and Varga’s Aether erupted.

The floating map shattered. Blood and fragments of light scattered across the chamber, while the dark metal reinforcing the walls began to vibrate.

Simon’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Varga’s power had been concealed by either an artifact or a skill until now. He had been wondering what his actual power level was, and now he knew.

Level Ninety.

Peak C-rank.

Simon’s instincts told him that Varga’s combat prowess was comparable to that of a Half-Step Demon Lord.

"YOU SLAUGHTERED THEM!"

Varga thrust both hands outward.

A vast silver-black shape rose behind him.

It resembled a falcon formed from liquid metal. Its body was made from overlapping plates, molten-white light burned between them, and hundreds of narrow metal feathers covered its six wings.

A powerful Metal Elemental Spirit.

The Spirit spread its wings, and every piece of metal inside the chamber answered.

The legs of the command table tore free. Weapons ripped themselves from dead hands. Dark reinforcement strips peeled out of the walls, carrying broken stone and glowing Order runes with them.

All of it gathered around Varga, then it flew toward Simon.

Dozens of metal feathers, blades, and spears crossed the chamber from different directions.

Simon stepped aside, and the Chaos Blade moved.

Clang!

Clang! Clang!

He struck three projectiles in one motion. One buried itself in the ceiling. Another pierced two corpses before entering the floor, while the third turned and destroyed the observation mirror.

More attacks followed.

Simon lowered his head beneath a metal crescent, cut through a spear aimed at his chest, then used the flat of the Chaos Blade to redirect a spinning blade toward Varga.

The metal falcon moved one wing, and the blade stopped an inch from Varga’s eye.

"You will answer for every life you took!"

"I don’t think so," Simon replied calmly. "You will answer my question instead."

Varga roared.

The Metal Elemental Spirit folded its wings around his body.

Silver-black metal covered his command coat and armour, forming a second layer over his arms, chest, and legs. A long metal spear grew from his right hand, while streams of liquid metal circled him like angry serpents.

He crossed the distance with one step, and thrust his spear toward Simon’s throat.

Simon tilted the Chaos Blade and met it at an angle.

Clang!

The attack slid along the black edge and struck the floor beside him. Before Varga could withdraw, Simon turned his wrist.

Chi!

The Chaos Blade cut halfway through the spear.

Varga released it and punched.

The falcon behind him copied the motion with one enormous wing.

A compressed wall of metal and Aether crashed forward.

Simon blocked.

BOOOOM!

The remaining command table exploded behind him. Severed heads and broken chairs were thrown across the chamber, while cracks spread through the surrounding walls.

Simon slid back by multiple steps, and Varga’s eyes could not help but widen in disbelief.

He had not held back.

That attack could have crushed a Supreme Greater Demon against the wall, yet Simon’s arm had barely moved beneath it.

The falcon screamed without producing sound.

A force seized every metal object in the room and dragged it toward Varga.

Mirela’s gun flew from the floor. Weapons, armour, and even metal pieces embedded within the walls became a storm around him.

The same force tried to wrap itself around the Chaos Blade, but the weapon did not move.

It was snuffed out and easily repelled, and Varga’s expression changed.

Simon looked at him indifferently.

"I do not have time for this."

He disappeared.

Varga reacted on instinct.

Metal folded around his neck, chest, and head forming a helmet. The falcon crossed its wings before him, while dozens of feathers gathered into a shield.

A black line passed through all of them.

For a heartbeat, Varga felt nothing, then his right arm separated from his shoulder.

Blood burst across the chamber.

"AAAAARRRGHHH!"

The severed limb struck the floor, still covered in silver-black metal.

Varga stumbled backward and tried to command the Elemental Spirit with his remaining hand. The falcon’s wings opened, but Simon was already beside him.

A foot struck the side of Varga’s left knee.

CRACK!

The joint bent inward.

Varga screamed again and fell forward.

His face struck the blood-covered floor, but before he could roll away, Simon stepped on his back.

The weight forced the air from Varga’s lungs.

His left hand clawed at the stone, and metal surged toward Simon’s ankle.

The Chaos Blade descended.

PUCHI!

It passed through the centre of Varga’s palm and entered the floor beneath it.

"AAAHHH!"

His fingers spasmed around the blade, but the weapon had pinned his only remaining hand to the ground.

The Metal Elemental Spirit flickered, and it tried to attack.

However, Simon waved his hand and sent the Chaos Wraps toward it.

It instantly felt an immense threat to its existence and it dispersed as quickly as possible.

Its six wings lost their shape. Feathers fell around the chamber as dull pieces of iron, and the enormous falcon collapsed into a silver-black liquid before disappearing.

Varga breathed hard against the floor.

His rage remained, but something colder was spreading through it.

The demon had not struggled.

He had allowed Varga to reveal his Blessing, blocked attacks capable of killing Greater Demons, and then dismantled him the moment he became impatient.

An arm.

A knee.

A hand.

Every movement had been deliberate.

Simon leaned slightly on the hilt, forcing the Chaos Blade deeper into the floor.

Varga’s scream became hoarse.

"I asked you a question."

Simon’s voice remained calm.

"Which god owns the divinity that was used in Sunshear?"

Varga slowly turned his head.

He looked at the severed arm lying several metres away, then at the black blade passing through his palm.

When his eyes finally rose toward Simon, the rage in them had been swallowed by horror, confusion, and fear.