The Broken Halo

Chapter 834 - 833: Which God?

Ironcrest’s command chamber occupied the central spine of the watchtower.

It was positioned between the upper artillery floors and the formation engine buried beneath the summit. Two rings of narrow corridors surrounded it, while reinforced stairways connected it to the rest of Ironcrest. The walls were made from dark mountain stone strengthened with dark metal and order runes.

Its only entrance was protected by a thick armoured door.

Outside, Simon stood beside the ruined remains of Sunshear, nearly eighty metres from the western wall of the watchtower. The severed cannon lay across the outer grounds behind him, its broken rings releasing pale sparks into the smoke.

Between him and the command chamber were several floors, numerous soldiers, and enough reinforced stone to hide the officers inside from ordinary senses.

But none of it mattered after Shadow Sense found them.

Inside the chamber, Commander Sorin Varga stared at the circular observation mirror.

Simon had been looking directly toward them, then he moved.

His figure vanished from the artifact.

”Where did he go?”

”Change the angle!”

”The mirror cannot see beneath the western platform!”

”Activate the inner observation formations!”

Chief Gunner Mirela dragged both hands across the bronze control frame. The damaged miniature rings above it rotated wildly, showing the tower’s western grounds from three different directions.

Simon was absent from all of them.

An officer stepped back from the table.

”He knows where we are.”

The whisper spread more fear through the room than a scream would have.

Varga’s chest tightened.

He remembered the coldness and indifference in Simon’s eyes. He remembered the faint smile on the demon’s face and the two words that followed.

Found you.

”Commander, what should we do?”

”Should we evacuate the chamber?”

”The eastern stairwell is still-”

”SHUT UP!”

BANG!

Varga’s fist struck the command table.

The floating map shuddered. Several markers disappeared, but nobody dared to repair them.

Varga looked at the nineteen humans gathered inside the chamber. Officers, Runemasters, communication specialists, and artillery personnel stared back at him, waiting for an order that would convince them the situation could still be controlled.

He forced the fear and uncertainty from his voice.

”Ironcrest has not fallen. One demon has entered the tower, nothing more. Lock every inner passage and send all remaining C-ranks to-”

Chiiii!!!

A thin black line appeared across the armoured door, and Varga stopped speaking immediately.

The line passed through the metal from one end to the other, and for half a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then the left half of the door slid backward, and the right half fell inward.

BOOOOM!

Both pieces struck the floor hard enough to crack it, and smoke and silver dust drifted through the opening.

The command staff froze.

That door had been built to protect Ironcrest’s leadership and control formations if the outer summit was overrun. Its metal was reinforced by several formations and connected directly to the tower’s foundation. A Demon Lord could destroy it, but not so cleanly, not with one effortless cut, and certainly not before the warning formations activated.

Step

Step

Step

Footsteps sounded beyond it, and Simon walked into the command chamber.

The Chaos Blade rested in his right hand. His white hair moved slightly in the wind that followed him through the opening, and his sky-blue eyes passed over everyone inside.

The wounds left by Sunshear were completely gone. Only the holes and cuts in his clothing proved the lasers had ever touched him.

No one in the command center breathed.

They had watched him destroy Sunshear through the observation mirror. They had seen the mountain split behind him and the cannon fall beneath his sword.

Seeing him from a distance had been horrifying, but seeing him standing inside the chamber was worse.

Varga felt as though something had entered Ironcrest wearing the shape of an Archfiend while refusing to obey what an Archfiend should be capable of doing.

Mirela broke the silence first.

She tore a short silver gun from beneath the control table and aimed at Simon’s forehead.

BANG!

The Aether bullet crossed the room.

Simon tilted his head, and it passed beside his cheek and punched through the wall behind him.

His gaze settled on Mirela.

”You should be around Level Eighty-Four,” he muttered indifferently. ”A C-rank... Comparable to a Superior Greater Demon huh.”

Mirela’s face changed.

The others finally began reaching for their weapons.

”What are you waiting for?” she shouted. ”Kill-”

Simon waved his hand, and the Chaos Blade left his fingers.

SHIIING!

It crossed the chamber as a black blur and entered Mirela’s forehead.

The tip tore out from the back of her skull.

Her eyes remained open as the force lifted her from the floor and pinned her corpse against the control frame. Blood flowed over the bronze runes, and the remaining miniature rings went dark.

For one stunned moment, everyone stared at her wide eyes that were full of disbelief.

What just happened?

Simon snapped his fingers, and tiny blades of wind appeared around the command chamber.

One rested against every living human throat except Varga’s.

Some felt the cold lines touching their skin.

Others never noticed them.

An officer managed to widen his eyes.

A Runemaster opened his mouth.

Then the wind moved.

Puchi!

Cut!

Seventeen heads left their bodies.

They rolled across the floor, struck chairs, hit the command table, or stopped beside the split remains of the armoured door.

Bodies remained upright for a fraction of a second.

Then they collapsed.

Blood sprayed across the floating map. It stained the observation mirror and spread beneath Varga’s boots. Mirela’s corpse slid down the ruined control frame with the Chaos Blade still buried through her skull.

The entire command chamber became silent.

Varga did not move.

His eyes travelled across the bodies of the people who had stood beside him moments earlier. Some had served at Ironcrest for years. Others had arrived only for the invasion.

However, all of them were dead.

Killed between one breath and the next.

His shock slowly changed into anger.

His face reddened. His jaw clenched until his teeth hurt, and fury rose through the fear already twisting inside his chest.

Simon did not care his rage though.

He stretched out his hand and the Chaos Blade freed itself from Mirela’s skull. The weapon flew across the chamber and returned to his hand.

He stepped over a severed head and stopped on the opposite side of the command table.

Varga glared at him.

”You-!”

”I have a question.”

Simon’s voice was calm.

His expression showed no interest in Varga’s anger, the dead officers, or the blood covering the chamber.

He rested the Chaos Blade against his shoulder.

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