The Broken Halo

Chapter 1020 - 1019: A Change of Master

Ancestral Elder Cinder Queen leaned forward, watching the crimson sparks fading along the arena barrier.

”Wasn’t that the Bloodline Extinction Tribulation Lightning.”

”It was... it had a rather strange fusion with his wind blade. But how does he have the tribulation lightning as part of his power?” Ancestral Elder Bone Prophet asked.

”Interesting,” Grand Elder Red Calamity said.

The elders exchanged glances within their sound-blocked gallery. None had expected to see the lightning that had killed numerous demons and daemons appearing in Simon’s attacks.

”An artifact?” Ancestral Elder Wild Hunt suggested.

”Or an art,” Ancestral Elder Bone Prophet replied.

Grand Elder Golden Tyrant watched Simon lower his arm.

Whatever he had done, their earlier questioning had barely touched his secrets.

Below them, Joren reached for his spirits again.

Nothing answered.

Bone Eater and the other three hadn’t merely been dispersed. The connections were gone and they were no longer in the world.

His fingers twitched.

Those spirits had troubled Minor Demon Kings. Even opponents capable of striking into the spiritual plane needed considerable demonic energy or Chaos to harm them.

Killing all four required much more.

Blackmoon had dodged their attacks, cleared their curses, and destroyed them with a sweep of his arm.

And he did all these... as a Greater Demon.

Joren stared at him, searching for some sign that the attack had exhausted him.

But he saw none.

Simon was examining the fading lightning around his fingers.

The final slash had taken little from his reserves, but another Greater Demon wouldn’t have found it so affordable.

By his estimate, an average one might expend ninety percent of their demonic energy merely to wound a single spirit as badly as his first wind blades had.

The tribulation lightning had helped considerably. He had seen it burn through the spirits where ordinary wind damage began closing.

His wind had changed when he absorbed the power of the Bloodline Extinction Tribulation. Now even a simple slash carried some of its destructive nature.

He rubbed his healed shoulder.

Cursed energy was troublesome, but that made understanding it worthwhile. Perhaps-

”You’ll pay for those.”

Joren’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

The air behind the Heart Daemon folded around a much larger presence.

Four long arms came out of nowhere and planted their palms upon the floor.

Bang!

Between them hung a torso shaped like an overturned bell, its pale ribs joined by strips of black flesh.

An upside-down head dangled inside the hollow chest from a stretched neck.

Blunt teeth covered its scalp. Small mouths crowded its cheeks.

Joren had brought out his strongest cursed spirit.

Simon looked at the swinging head.

”Someone definitely put that together upside down. Were they drunk?”

ROARRRRR!!!!

The creature roared almost as if it was responding to Simon’s insult. Its chest amplified the sound until loose stones trembled beneath Simon’s feet.

He watched it without retreating.

”I wonder if this will work.”

The pale-gold seed within his heart stirred.

A fine thread slipped from his fingertip and wound around one of the spirit’s arms, sinking beneath its surface.

Joren raised his hand.

”I’ll have it crush every bone in your body. Grave Bell, attack!”

Simon’s Will drove through the resistance within the spirit.

For a moment, Joren’s command held.

Then Simon’s Greed closed upon the control binding the creature to him.

Pain stabbed through Joren’s head and he staggered.

”What-”

His instincts screamed.

Joren thrust both hands forward. Curved layers of black light closed around him just as Grave Bell turned its hollow chest toward him.

The dangling head slammed against its ribs.

DOOONG!

The first shield burst.

The second caved inward, and the remaining barriers drove Joren backward through the stone.

A circular trough tore across the floor around him. Broken slabs rolled away from its centre, scattering against the arena wall.

The audience erupted.

”It attacked him!”

”His own spirit?”

Spectators unable to see Grave Bell watched Joren being battered by something invisible, while Blackmoon stood untouched.

Grand Elder Golden Tyrant rose from her seat.

Her eyes followed the pale-gold thread. Disbelief gave way to a desire so open that Ancestral Elder White Death glanced at her.

”The Seed of Greed,” Grand Elder Golden Tyrant said within the formation. ”He’s taken Joren’s control over it.”

”Without breaking the binding?” Ancestral Elder Bone Prophet asked.

”He’s forcing his commands over Joren’s. Look.”

Grave Bell’s head struck the other side of its chest.

Joren escaped the next blast by throwing himself sideways. His coat tore across one shoulder, and a thin line of blood ran from his nose.

Behind him, a strip of paving collapsed into powder.

”What did you do?”

Simon tilted his head.

”It seems to prefer me.”

”Give it back!”

”You were trying to kill me with it. Don’t be unreasonable.”

Joren’s face twisted.

He spread his fingers, forcing cursed energy into their connection. Grave Bell shuddered, one arm bending toward its master.

Simon tightened his claim.

The arm straightened, and the spirit sprang after Joren.

Its head swung twice.

Two overlapping tolls struck the same stretch of ground, the second catching Joren as he blocked the first. He slid backward behind a fresh shield, his boots cutting furrows through the slabs.

He knew the attack too well to stand where the next toll would land.

Joren vaulted over a broken section of floor. Grave Bell’s palm smashed down behind him, and the mouth nearest its hanging jaw opened toward his back.

Simon’s brow tightened despite what was happening.

Controlling the cursed spirit was becoming expensive.

Demonic energy fed Greed constantly. His mental energy kept his commands above Joren’s, while a deeper strain dragged at his soul.

Taking control hadn’t given him the cursed energy or knowledge needed to command the creature properly.

Every order met resistance from both its nature and its master. He was forcing ordinary demonic energy through a power that required something else.

His mental energy and Will were stronger than Joren’s. Without that advantage, he doubted he could have taken Grave Bell at all.

Keeping it was another matter.

Another toll struck the arena barrier as Joren dodged.

Simon clicked his tongue.

The spirit couldn’t kill its master quickly. Joren knew its movements, understood its attacks, and had enough power to protect himself.

Simon could kill him with far less effort than this was costing.

’There’s no point keeping you.’

His eyes followed Joren’s desperate attempts to regain control.

Then his gaze sharpened.

He sent one final command through the thread.

’Stop. Draw your power back inside.’

Grave Bell planted its palms and fell silent.

Simon released his claim.

Joren landed behind a half-broken slab, braced for another attack.

None came.

The spirit crouched several strides away, its head hanging motionless within its ribs.

To his surprise, Simon felt his connection with Grave Bell becoming clear.

His commands could reach it again.

’What’s going on?’

Cough

A cough drew his attention.

Across the arena, Simon had dropped onto one knee. One hand pressed against the floor while the other covered his mouth.

He coughed again.

Joren stared at him for a moment.

Then relief spread across his face.

”So that’s your limit.”

Simon lifted his head but didn’t answer.

”Trying to control my strongest spirit?” Joren laughed through his teeth. ”You should have stayed with your wind blades.”

He hadn’t relaxed his defences.

First, he ordered Grave Bell to turn away from him.

It obeyed.

Then he made it lift one arm and lower its head.

Again, it followed the command. Nothing pushed against his Will. The foreign hold had disappeared.

Joren wiped the blood beneath his nose.

The bastard had almost made him panic.

He approached the spirit carefully, watching both it and Simon. His binding needed reinforcement before he sent Grave Bell out again. Doing that directly would be easier than fighting through the connection at a distance.

Simon remained on one knee.

His breathing was uneven, and Joren could feel the spirit answering every small command he gave it.

Joren stopped within reach of its chest.

”Let’s see you try to take it again.”

He raised his palm toward the dangling head.

Simon smiled behind his hand.

For some reason, he was actually having fun experimenting with this lab rat of his.

He used the Seed of Greed again.

The pale-gold thread snapped taut.

Pain drove through Joren’s head again, sharper than before.

His connection was crushed beneath the sudden weight of Simon’s Will.

”You bastard!”

He turned toward Simon, but to his surprise and disbelief, Blackmoon was looking directly at him with one hand raised.

Joren’s stomach dropped as he had a terrible feeling.

The power Grave Bell had drawn inward was gathering around the head hanging beside him.

Simon closed his fingers.

”Self-destruct.”

BOOOOOOM!