The Broken Halo

”The final reason is World Vitality.”

Marek’s words drew the attention of every recruit toward him.

Unlike Demon Gods and World Cores, World Vitality was not a subject most ordinary demons had ever heard of before. A few knew the term from old records or from their organizations or by luck, but even they did not fully understand what it meant.

Marek gave them a moment before continuing.

”The Demon Realm is ancient. Far older than earth and some believe it’s even far older than the divine realm and gods standing today. It’s also older than most races can trace their histories.”

He looked toward the crimson moon hanging above Velmora.

”Age gives a world strength, but age also carries a price.”

Marek explained that Demonic Energy was not the same as World Vitality.

Demonic Energy was the power flowing through the realm. It filled the air, gathered beneath the ground, entered plants, and allowed demons and demonic beasts to cultivate.

World Vitality was deeper.

”If Demonic Energy is the blood of our world, then World Vitality is its lifespan,” Marek said. ”It is what allows the realm to recover what it loses, repair damage to its laws and land, create new resources, and continue producing life.”

A world with strong vitality could recover after wars and disasters.

Its energy would replenish.

Its damaged regions would heal.

New mineral veins, rare plants, and powerful lifeforms could appear over time. But when that vitality weakened, the world’s recovery became slower.

”Ordinary cultivation does not permanently drain the Demon Realm,” Marek continued. ”Most of the energy demons absorb eventually returns through death, waste, and the natural cycle of the world.”

His voice became heavier.

”But battles that tear apart regions, ancient formations that remain active for thousands of years, the birth of powerful treasures, and breakthroughs at the highest ranks demand far more.”

When a Demon King advanced by a minor rank, the world itself had to endure the change.

When ancient experts fought, they damaged more than mountains and cities. Their power could disturb World Laws, destroy energy veins, and leave injuries in the world that took centuries to heal.

Over countless ages, those wounds accumulated.

”The Demon Realm is not about to die,” Marek said. ”None of you will wake tomorrow and find the sky collapsing.”

A few recruits visibly relaxed.

”But scholars believe our realm is slowly declining.”

The signs were not obvious to ordinary demons because they appeared across generations rather than years.

Certain ancient bloodlines once mentioned repeatedly in history had stopped appearing.

Some bloodlines that survived had become weaker.

Regions that had once produced medicinal plants and powerful beasts had become lifeless wastelands where even Demonic Energy felt thin.

The average affinity grades of newly born demons were also believed to be lower than they had been in ancient times.

”Records from several old clans claim their children once awakened grades that would now be considered exceptional,” Marek said. ”What was once common has become rare, and what was once rare has disappeared.”

A young Archfiend near the centre lowered his gaze toward his hands, his gaze becoming lost in his thoughts.

Marek continued.

”The limit preventing the birth of a Demon God may not be our only problem. Even the demons beneath that level may be growing weaker because the world supporting them has less to give.”

That possibility disturbed the recruits more than distant talk of gods.

Most of them would never reach the peak of the Demon Realm, but all of them possessed bloodlines, affinities, and descendants they hoped would surpass them.

If the Demon Realm continued declining, even their own potential might be smaller than what demons had possessed in the past.

”Hell Holes changed part of this,” Marek said.

The recruits listened more closely.

”Their emergence created new concentrations of Demonic Energy, hell stone deposits, and regions where resources began forming faster than before.”

Many scholars believed this had slowed the decline, and some believed the Demon Realm had even recovered a small portion of what it lost.

”The appearance of the first Hell Holes followed periods when demons successfully claimed and assimilated more parts of Earth,” Marek said. ”That is why many experts believe the two events are connected.”

The Demon Realm had consumed Earth’s World Law, and its World Core had gained new strength.

That strength had produced changes they had never seen the realm possess before.

If successful assimilation created Hell Holes and Hell Stones once, further victories might restore even more World Vitality and lead to the emergence of new things.

Marek’s eyes hardened.

”Earth is different from our realm.”

Earth was younger.

Its people had only discovered Aether and Order relatively recently, but youth gave the world something the Demon Realm lacked.

Abundant vitality.

Earth recovered quickly from damage. Its plants spread rapidly, its population grew in enormous numbers, and its World Law produced vast amounts of Aether despite humanity’s short history with it.

”To the rulers of the Demon Realm, Earth is not merely another world,” Marek said. ”It is a young world overflowing with what ours has spent over countless ages.”

Assimilating Earth could rejuvenate the Demon Realm.

Its vitality could strengthen the World Core, repair some damages done in ancient times, increase the birth of resources, and slow, or perhaps reverse, the decline of demonic civilization.

”For many of the powers supporting this war, the invasion is a matter of civilizational survival.”

The phrase passed through the assembly ground.

Humans saw demons as monsters invading their home, slaughtering their people, and attempting to transform Earth into hell.

They were not wrong.

Demons saw humans as inhabitants of a world rich in the power their own civilization needed, refusing to surrender it while the Demon Realm gradually weakened.

From the perspective of demons, that did not make humanity innocent or sacred.

It made them competitors.

Simon listened with a calm face, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

Marek shifted to another part of the war.

”Even failed invasions can possess value.”

Several recruits looked confused.

”A rift is a wound in the barrier between worlds,” he said. ”When it closes, the barrier begins healing. But it rarely returns to exactly what it was before.”

Demonic Energy left residue on Earth’s side.

Aether left traces within the Demon Realm.

The greater the battle and the longer the rift remained open, the deeper the scar became.

If another rift later appeared near the same region, opening it required less power. It could remain stable for longer because the barrier had already been weakened.

”One temporary rift may close within hours,” Marek explained. ”Repeated openings can turn that weakness into a stable rift. A stable rift may eventually become permanent. And a permanent gate can be transformed into an assimilation anchor.”

That was why demons sometimes attacked even when victory appeared unlikely.

They might fail to hold the land.

Their army might be destroyed.

But if they contaminated enough ground and damaged Earth’s barrier deeply enough, the next invasion would begin with a greater advantage.

”A failed campaign can prepare the road for a successful one decades later,” Marek said. ”The demons who die may gain nothing, but the Demon Realm remembers the wound they created.”

There was no comfort in his statement.

Only strategy.

Marek then addressed the resources of Earth.

”Most of what you find after crossing will be useless to you.”

A few recruits frowned.

Earth’s artifacts were designed for Aether. Its minerals were shaped by Earth’s World Law, and its plants and beasts carried energy that could harm a demon attempting to absorb it carelessly.

”That does not mean those resources lack value,” Marek said. ”It means their value belongs to the future.”

When a territory became fully Demonized, everything inside it began changing.

Medicinal plants containing Aether could mutate into plants capable of strengthening demons. Animals and beasts adapted to Chaos and Demonic Energy.

Mineral veins gradually lost their Aether nature and began storing Demonic Energy instead.

”A mine you cannot use today may become one of the most valuable mines in the kingdom twenty years after assimilation,” Marek said. ”A useless forest may one day produce medicines no clan currently possesses.”

This was why kingdoms and ancient clans invested in a territory they might not profit from for generations.

They were not merely looting Earth.

They were converting it.

”The land itself is the resource.”

Marek allowed the recruits to absorb everything he had told them.

The reasons for the invasion now stretched far beyond the rewards promised to the first wave.

Personal greed drew ordinary demons through the rifts.

Kingdoms wanted future territory.

Ancient clans wanted new resources and stronger bloodlines.

Demon Kings wanted a world capable of supporting greater power.

And the Demon Realm itself needed vitality.

Marek turned toward the distant campaign grounds.

”Humans will call you invaders. They will call you destroyers, monsters, and enemies of their world.”

He looked back at the recruits.

”Do not waste time arguing with them. They are correct.”

A cold smile appeared on the faces of several demons.

”And when you tear down their cities and stain their land with Demonic Energy, remember that you are not fighting for what Earth can give you today.”

Marek’s pale-orange eyes became severe.

”You are fighting for what Earth will become after it belongs to us.”

His voice travelled through the assembly ground one final time.

”That is why demons invade Earth.”