The Broken Halo

The door of Simon’s private combat chamber closed behind Sava and Ivara.

Neither spoke immediately.

They walked through one of Red Sand Hall’s upper corridors with the empty trays balanced in their hands. Red lamps burned inside shallow hollows along the walls, while the distant roar of the public arenas travelled through the dark stone beneath their feet.

The disguises of two ordinary attendants still covered their faces, and only after they had passed three private chambers and descended a short flight of stairs did Sava finally speak.

”There is something wrong with him.”

Her voice was quiet and solemn. The embarrassment and fury she had shown inside Simon’s chamber were gone, replaced by an indifferent expression and a faint coldness in her dull-violet eyes.

Ivara walked beside her without looking over.

”That is a broad conclusion.”

”You know what I mean.”

Sava’s fingers tightened slightly beneath her tray.

”His personality is unpleasant, but it is not careless. Every insult, every shameless statement, and every refusal was meant to see how we would react. Even when he angered me, he remained calm enough to study every movement I made.”

A pair of wounded fighters appeared at the other end of the corridor, accompanied by a healer carrying a case of medicine.

Sava stopped speaking.

She and Ivara moved closer to the wall and allowed the group to pass. One fighter gave them a distracted glance before continuing, too occupied with the blood running down his arm to pay attention to the two beautiful attendants.

Only after their footsteps faded did Sava continue.

”His wind affinity is High S grade, just as Black Horn recorded.”

”At least their records did not lie about that,” Ivara replied.

”And his space affinity is of a lower grade than his wind affinity, but his control and usage of it is riduiculous for an Archfiend. Even Black Horn did not record that he had a space affinity.”

Sava’s expression became more solemn.

”He solidified space around my technique as though he had done it countless times before. He did not merely block the lightning. He understood where it was unstable, separated the outer energy with the wind, and redirected everything before the formations could react.”

She paused.

”His control is also absurd.”

Ivara’s golden eyes were hidden by the disguise, but the borrowed amber eyes narrowed slightly.

”His control bothered me more than the affinities.”

Sava looked toward her.

”Because affinities can be inherited,” Ivara continued. ”Control cannot. Not at that level.”

They reached a wider passage overlooking one of the lower training halls. Through the open arches, dozens of demons could be seen striking stone targets, exchanging blows, and testing weapons beneath the supervision of Red Sand Hall instructors.

Some of these demons were recruits.

The noise covered their voices, but both demonesses still lowered them.

”He fought like someone who had already seen every mistake you could make,” Ivara said.

Sava’s jaw tightened at the reminder.

”I know.”

A faint smile touched Ivara’s borrowed face.

”You are still angry about where he placed his hand.”

”That is not the point.”

”Of course.”

Sava gave her master a cold look, then quickly turned away when two other attendants approached from the opposite direction.

The four demonesses exchanged brief nods as they passed one another.

Once the corridor was clear, Sava spoke again.

”What race do you think he is?”

Ivara did not answer immediately.

”Blackmoon looks like a hybrid,” Sava continued. ”A One-Horned Demon mixed with some type of cat demon. The single horn, the eyes, the physical traits... all of it makes him to look like he’s a low ranked hybrid.”

”Yeah. It does,” Ivara said after a moment of silence.

Sava frowned and Ivara continued.

”If Blackmoon is truly only an identity, then the hybrid appearance may have been created deliberately. A weak-looking bloodline, an uncommon but believable mixture, and enough unusual traits to explain things people cannot immediately understand.”

”The face-changing ability could still be an artifact.”

”It could,” Ivara admitted. ”But I sensed no activation, no energy change, and no delay between the faces. If it is an artifact, it is far beyond anything commonly found in this kingdom.”

”A bloodline ability then?”

”Possibly. Or a transformation technique.”

Sava’s eyes became thoughtful.

”What race can copy faces, horns, pupils, and aura that accurately?”

”I do not know.”

Ivara’s answer was the same as Sava’s.

For a moment, only the roar of the arenas and the faint clink of cups from a nearby refreshment room filled the silence.

”I wanted to force him to reveal more,” Ivara admitted. ”His real face, his true rank, or at least the source of that ability.”

”Why didn’t you?”

Ivara glanced at her.

”Because I had the feeling that if I attacked him seriously, none of us would leave Red Sand Hall quietly.”

Sava became silent and she knew what Ivara meant.

Her answer could mean the battle would expose them or it could also mean something worse. She did not want to admit it or believe that Simon who was merely a Supreme Archfiend would not be easily subdued by her master, but her battle and the mystery behind Simon told her otherwise.

They continued walking until the crowd thinned and the corridor curved toward the attendants’ passage leading to a side exit.

Just before they reached the turn, Sava studied her master carefully.

Then she asked in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

”Should we introduce the Outsider to Him?”

Ivara stopped.

Sava lowered her tray slightly.

”We could let Him judge whether Blackmoon has the potential to join the Abyss and maybe He could find or know something about Blackmoon that we couldn’t.”

At the mention of the Abyss, the faint amusement around Ivara disappeared completely.

A group of laughing demons emerged from a stairway nearby.

Neither demoness moved or spoke until the group passed and vanished into another corridor.

Then Ivara shook her head.

”No.”

Sava did not look surprised, but she waited for more.

”It is too early,” Ivara said quietly. ”We do not know what he is, what stands behind him, or whether anything he told us is true. We can’t disappoint Him. It’s too risky.

”He is powerful.”

”So are many demons who never receive the right to approach the Abyss.”

Ivara resumed walking.

”More importantly, we have not received approval to join it ourselves. We have no right to place another candidate before Him while our own worth is still being judged.”

Sava followed.

”We focus on Crownless Dawn and ourselves first,” Ivara continued. ”If the Outsider survives long enough and proves useful enough, we can reconsider him later.”

Sava nodded once.

”I understand.”

The two demonesses turned the corner and disappeared from the main corridor.

For the briefest moment, an eye opened inside each of their shadows. Both black pupils watched the empty passage behind them, then the eyes closed and sank deeper into the darkness.

Back inside the private combat chamber, Simon sat alone with his eyes half-closed.

A faintly surprised smile appeared on his face.

”Now, this I did not expect.”