The Broken Halo

Chapter 1056 - 1055: A Dragon’s Defence

The black light swallowed Simon’s vision.

When it cleared, he was standing on a ridge above a vast battlefield.

Armies filled the plain below. Rows of soldiers crowded behind enormous shields, while towers mounted on iron wheels moved between their formations. Banners snapped in a wind that carried smoke and the smell of burned flesh.

Simon looked upward.

A black True Dragon hung above them.

Its wings stretched across the sky, their shadows passing over thousands of soldiers at once. Long horns curved behind its head, and thick black scales covered its neck, chest, and the limbs drawn beneath its body.

Sunlight caught their edges as it turned.

Simon had seen Veyra’s corpse.

Watching a living True Dragon move was something else entirely.

He had no idea who this one was. He didn’t recognise the battlefield, the armies, or the symbols on their banners.

A horn sounded below.

The towers stopped moving.

Light gathered along their frames, joining at the tips of weapons aimed toward the sky. Hundreds of smaller formations brightened between them.

Then the attacks rose.

Spears of light. Blades wider than the towers that had released them. Streams of fire crossed trails of frost, filling the space beneath the dragon.

Simon watched its wings.

It wasn’t trying to evade.

BOOOOOOM!

The first volley struck its chest.

Fire spread across its scales. Ice followed, covering the burning surface before another explosion tore through both.

The dragon disappeared behind the impacts.

A blade that missed its shoulder continued beyond the battlefield and cut through a distant mountain peak.

The severed summit slid downward.

Simon’s eyes narrowed.

Those attacks weren’t weak at all. He would die from a single one of those attacks.

The clouds of smoke parted.

The dragon remained where it had been.

Flames slipped from its chest. Broken ice fell between its claws. Beneath both, the black scales were still joined neatly together.

There wasn’t a wound.

Another volley struck before the first had completely faded.

The dragon lowered its head.

A bright spear flew toward its throat, larger than the others and moving too quickly for Simon to follow properly.

One wing swept inward.

The spear struck the scaled joint.

CRACK!

Its tip broke.

The shaft shattered a moment later, scattering light over the dragon’s folded wing.

Simon stared with a satisfied expression.

He had chosen well.

Below, the armies changed formation. Soldiers abandoned the smaller weapons and gathered around three immense towers at the centre of the plain.

Their inscriptions brightened.

Power flowed between them until a single white sphere hung above the middle tower.

The pressure reached Simon even through the vision.

The dragon turned toward it.

For the first time, it stopped beating its wings.

The sphere released a beam.

A wide trench opened beneath its path as it rose, tearing apart the ground without even touching it.

The beam struck the dragon’s breast.

BOOOOOOOM!

Its immense body shifted backward.

Simon felt the impact across his own chest.

He staggered, looking down, but there was no wound. Instead, he felt layers of something hard pressing together beneath his skin.

His attention returned to the dragon.

The scales around the point of impact had drawn tightly against one another. White light poured over them, spreading across its chest and shoulder.

The beam kept striking the same place.

The dragon’s claws curled.

Then it pushed forward.

One slow beat of its wings carried it against the attack.

The scales glowed along their edges, but none came loose.

Simon could see the army beneath it now. Some soldiers were backing away. Others continued pouring power into the towers.

The dragon opened its mouth.

Black fire gathered behind its teeth.

The breath struck the white beam head-on.

For a moment, neither advanced.

Then the dragon’s fire swallowed the light.

The beam broke.

A torrent of black flame descended upon the towers.

Barriers appeared over the army. The first barrier split beneath the impact. The next barrier held long enough for Simon to see the soldiers beneath it turn and run.

Then it collapsed too.

The towers vanished into the fire.

The dragon turned its head, and its breath swept across the plain.

Ranks of shields disappeared. War machines melted where they stood. The fire followed the retreating formations, leaving burning trenches through places that had held thousands of soldiers moments earlier.

Simon could hear the roar of it from the ridge.

The dragon closed its jaws.

Smoke rose beneath its wings.

It had endured everything those armies could throw at it before destroying their strongest formations with a single breath.

And the scales over its chest remained intact.

Simon’s own skin began to ache.

The sensation spread from his breastbone to his shoulders, then down his arms. He clenched his hands as something seemed to press outward beneath his flesh.

Knowledge entered his mind with the pain.

How to guide his demonic energy into the new skill. How to form the scales, maintain their overlapping layers, and let them move with his body.

He tried to follow it all.

The dragon’s shape blurred.

Its vast wing passed overhead, filling his vision with black scales.

Then the battlefield disappeared.

———

Simon opened his eyes with a sharp breath.

Silver channels crossed the cultivation chamber’s walls. The ceiling crystals shone above him, and the remains of the egg lay scattered before his knees.

He was still sitting on the platform.

His skin felt tight, especially along his arms. He touched his chest, then slowly rolled his shoulders.

Nothing had visibly changed.

Inside the fifth star, however, the scale-shaped rune was clear and complete.

Simon examined it.

True Dragon’s Scales.

He remembered the white beam striking the dragon’s breast.

”Let’s see.”

Demonic energy entered the fifth skill.

A prickling sensation spread along his left forearm. Beneath the Chaos Wraps, his skin began changing.

Simon followed the process with his perception.

Black scales rose from his wrist toward his elbow, each overlapping the one below it. Their broad surfaces were smooth, their ends slightly pointed.

He closed his hand.

The scales moved with him. They covered his forearm closely without preventing him from turning his wrist.

Simon supplied more energy, intending to extend them past his elbow.

The formation stopped.

He frowned.

He adjusted the flow and tried again.

The scales thickened slightly, but no new ones appeared.

Simon looked toward his right arm.

He directed some of the power there.

A few dark patches began forming beneath the wraps, then immediately faded. At the same time, the scales on his left forearm started thinning.

He stopped dividing the flow.

The left side stabilised.

”One forearm?”

He tried once more, this time concentrating on his chest while keeping the completed scales in place.

The skill drew harder on his reserves.

His forearm ached.

Nothing formed over his heart.

Simon released a quiet breath and stopped forcing it.

He had obtained the ability, but that didn’t mean he could use it like the dragon in the vision.

Was the limited coverage because the egg had died before hatching? Had too little of its essence survived?

Or would he have encountered the same problem even if he had taken the skill from a living True Dragon?

He couldn’t tell.

The fifth star held a complete rune. Whatever the reason, he would have to develop his use of it.

Simon turned his left arm slowly.

The scales were firm and closely joined. Even beneath the Chaos Wraps, he could distinguish the extra layer protecting his flesh.

It was a beginning.

Repeated practice would let him understand the skill better, and his Seven Stars Blessing gave him a way to improve it further. He intended to cover considerably more than one forearm eventually.

For now, he needed to know what maintaining even that much would cost.

He kept the skill active.

With each heartbeat, more demonic energy flowed into it. He absorbed energy gathered by the chamber, but not quickly enough to match what he was spending.

Simon’s expression grew thoughtful.

This wasn’t something he could leave active throughout a long battle.

Not at his current proficiency.

Using it alongside his other abilities would drain him even faster. He would need to judge when to form the scales rather than rely on them being there all the time.

He reduced the energy supply.

The edges loosened slightly.

Simon restored the flow, and they settled together again.

That gave him something else to practise.

His control was excellent, but this was still an unfamiliar skill. He would have to learn how much energy it actually needed instead of supplying more whenever he felt uncertain.

He dismissed it.

The scales sank beneath his skin, leaving his arm as it had been.

A faint ache remained.

Simon flexed his fingers and glanced at the egg’s remains.

A slight increase in physical strength. Peak F-grade Darkness affinity. And a defensive skill with far more potential than he could currently use.

He didn’t regret the selection.

But protecting his body was only part of what he needed.

His attention moved toward his sea of consciousness.

He had spent enough time attacking other people’s minds to know how dangerous it was to leave his own defences underdeveloped.

Simon reached into his spatial ring.

A thick, grey-covered book appeared in his hands, its corners reinforced with pale strips.

Abyssal Soul Fortress.