The Broken Halo

Simon left the streets near the pottery warehouse wearing the face of a broad-nosed Fiend. Two districts later, that face became an elderly goblin with watery eyes and a limp. Before entering the road leading toward Pipeline Inn, he changed a third time and became a thin demon carrying a basket of dried roots.

He never used the shortest route.

Simon crossed crowded streets, entered two open shops and bought random things, and passed through a public courtyard with four exits. ShadowSense remained compressed around him, following every footstep, moving shadow, and disturbance in the nearby air.

Nobody stayed behind him for too long.

A few demons watched the roads, but none adjusted their movements whenever he changed direction. No hidden presence followed him across the rooftops, and no unfamiliar scent returned after he deliberately circled the same market twice.

Only after confirming that he was alone did Simon enter an empty home several streets from Pipeline Inn.

Simon locked the door and removed the Sword Daemon’s mask.

The borrowed face disappeared.

His grey hair became white, and his pale-grey features appeared once again.

Simon changed his clothes. He washed the faint traces of blood from his hands and neck, cleaned the soles of his boots, then used a scent-neutralising powder taken from one of the rebels’ rings. A soft current of wind dried his skin and carried the remaining smell of blood into the drainage of the house.

When Simon left the house, Blackmoon had returned.

He walked toward Pipeline Inn without hiding.

The closer he came, the easier it became to notice Black Horn’s watchers.

One sat outside a closed tailor’s shop with a grey covered book. Another leaned against a wall farther down the street, pretending to argue with a merchant who had stopped responding several minutes ago. Across from the inn, a demon occupied the upper floor of a lodging house whose windows had a clear view of Pipeline Inn’s entrance.

Simon sensed all three, but he gave no sign that he did.

The demon with the book noticed him first. His gaze lifted for less than a second before falling again. Beneath the book, one finger pressed against a small communication token.

The watcher by the wall scratched his wrist.

The figure across the street moved away from the window.

A report had already begun travelling toward Korran, and Simon entered Pipeline Inn as though he had merely returned from an ordinary walk.

The clerk at the front desk glanced up, and her eyes flashed with a strange light.

”Lord Blackmoon. You’ve been away for quite some time.”

Simon noticed it, but he didn’t care.

”I had things to do,” He replied nonchalantly.

The clerk smiled carefully, and for some reason, she felt a chill across her spine after seeing Simon’s indifferent eyes.

She decided to remain silent and not say anything.

Simon climbed the stairs and entered his room. He checked the walls, floor, furniture, and shadows before closing the door. Nothing obvious had been added while he was gone, but that did not mean the corridor or nearby rooms were safe.

He had barely taken off his coat when someone knocked twice.

Sonya entered without waiting for permission, and Akaza followed behind her and closed the door.

Both of them had arrived in the inn some hours ago, and Simon took a good look at them.

Fresh scratches covered Akaza’s forearms, and one side of his jaw had begun to swell. His expression remained calm, but the light in his eyes was sharper than before.

Sonya looked unharmed. The pleased smile on her face suggested that other demons had not been as fortunate.

She studied Simon for several seconds, then folded her arms.

”Did you get what you wanted, little kitty?”

”Yes,” Simon answered simply.

Sonya’s smile widened slightly.

On their way back to the inn, she had sensed unusual movement around the western district and the city in general. Black Horn officials travelled in small groups, unfamiliar demons watched Pipeline Inn, and several streets near the Office had become strangely quiet.

Whatever Simon had gone to do, he had finished it.

”And?” she asked.

Simon glanced briefly toward the wall separating his room from the next one, and Sonya noticed this.

She furrowed her brows slightly.

Akaza noticed the exchange too.

”What happened while we were gone?” he asked.

”Nothing you need to know here.”

Akaza stared at him for a moment, then nodded.

Sonya clicked her tongue.

”This Honourable helped you and now you’re hiding the interesting part.”

”You’ll survive without the interesting part.”

”I might not.”

Simon tilted his head slightly as he looked at Sonya. He shook his head and decided to change the conversation.

”How was the Red Sand Hall?”

Akaza released a quiet scoff.

”She almost didn’t survive the bill.”

Sonya turned toward him.

”That wall was weak.”

”You threw a demon and a demoness through it.”

”They mocked my height.”

”And so? Are you going to beat up every demon that mocks your height?”

Sonya immediately nodded with a serious expression.

”Yes.”

She paused and tilted her head, her eyes glinting with a dangerous light.

”Just try mocking my height, and you’ll become an eunuch overnight.”

Akaza’s lips could not help but twitch, and Simon shook his head.

He looked at Akaza.

”How was the Hall?”

”Useful.”

Akaza flexed his bruised fingers.

”I fought five times. Four wins. The last opponent was a Half-Step Greater Demon.”

”And?”

”I lost.”

There was no shame in his voice. If anything, he sounded more interested than disappointed.

”He was faster than I expected, and his body absorbed most of the force behind my first strikes. I’ll fight him again when these injuries heal.”

The recruitment test had lit something inside Akaza. Losing had not discouraged him. It had simply shown him another wall to break.

Sonya smiled sweetly.

”He forgot to mention that the demon planted his face into the sand.”

Akaza looked at her.

”You spent most of the afternoon standing outside my arena and insulting me.”

”I was encouraging you.”

”You called me a brainless mountain.”

”And it worked. You fought better after that.”

A vein could not help but pop on Akaza’s forehead, and Simon could not help but shake his head.

The ordinary conversation helped.

Anyone listening would hear three recruits discussing a combat hall and nothing more. Blackmoon had returned, his companions greeted him, and no one mentioned Black Banner, Lower Ward Three, or the missing prisoner.

After several more minutes, Akaza stood.

”I’m going to treat my jaw.”

”Of course. He hit you good.”

Sonya mocked and followed him toward the door, though she paused beside Simon.

Her pale eyes faced him.

”If you need help, say it.”

”I know.”

She nodded once and left.

The room became quiet again.

Simon walked to the window.

Across the street, the hidden Black Horn operative had returned to his position behind the upper window. Only a thin gap remained between the curtains, but Simon knew exactly where the demon stood.

Instead of closing his own curtains, Simon looked directly at him.

The distant watcher became still.

For several seconds, neither moved.

The operative could not tell whether Simon truly saw him or had simply chosen to look out of the window.

Simon gave him no answer.

He turned away, sat beside the table, and opened the Fury Tempest Art.

Outside, Black Horn continued watching.

Inside, Blackmoon began reading as though he had nothing in the world to hide.