The Broken Halo

The woman sat sideways on a staff suspended above the split ridge.

One leg hung beneath its dark shaft, while the other rested lightly across it. Silver bands circled the staff at even intervals, and three curved prongs enclosed a pale crystal at its tip.

Icy-blue hair fell down her back, stirring in the cold air left behind by the barrage of ice spears. A white coat with dark-blue edges covered her fitted silver armour, while matching boots remained untouched by the mud and blood below.

She had a slender face, a straight nose, and pale-blue eyes that moved across the enormous ice spears embedded in the mountain.

Then they settled on Simon’s wind sphere.

The man floated beside her with a spear resting against one shoulder.

His flaming-red hair was swept backward, although several unruly strands had fallen across his forehead. Dark armour covered his broad chest and shoulders, with copper-red lines running between its plates.

His spear had a deep-red shaft and a long silver head. A thin orange glow travelled along the groove in its blade, bending the air around it with heat.

Neither human appeared strained as they stood in the air.

The woman had just buried the road beneath a barrage that could have destroyed Ammor’s core, yet her breathing remained even.

Simon narrowed his eyes.

Beneath their different hair and clothing, the resemblance was clear. The same shape of the eyes. The same nose and sharply defined chin.

’Twins.’

His attention moved to the Aether flowing around them.

The man’s relaxed grip did not conceal how readily he could bring the spear forward. The woman’s fingers rested against her staff, and the ice scattered across the ridge seemed to respond whenever they shifted.

Both were watching the demons carefully.

Their posture was casual, but their attention was not.

”Peak C-ranks,” Simon said.

Ammor looked at him sharply.

”Both?”

Simon nodded.

”They should both be Level Ninety.”

Rathen’s fingers tightened around his crescent axe.

The Level 57 human had nearly killed them. Now two humans standing at the very end of the same rank had arrived.

”That would place them around Supreme Greater Demons or Half-Step Demon Lords,” Simon continued calmly. ”But I would not judge these two by that alone.”

Akaza glanced at him.

”How strong?”

Simon watched the woman adjust her position on the staff.

The cold around her moved with almost no wasted disturbance. Beside her, the man’s heat remained contained, neither weakening her frost nor interfering with the Aether surrounding her.

”Either one could probably kill an ordinary Minor Demon Lord.”

Nobody spoke for a moment.

Rellis slowly looked from the embedded ice spears to the woman sitting above them.

”That explains the introduction,” he muttered, his tone strained.

Simon kept studying them.

Two Elemental Blessings.

The spear did not make the man a Martial Blessing user. Fire followed the circulation of his Aether and gathered around his body even when the weapon remained still.

The woman was the same.

Her ice was not merely coming from an artifact.

Both possessed powerful Elemental Blessings, and the degree to which their surroundings responded suggested something more.

’S-grade affinities.’

Fire for the man.

Ice for the woman.

Simon could not determine where either stood within that grade. He had not seen enough, and the remnants of the woman’s attack still filled the ridge with overlapping disturbances.

But S-grade was already troublesome.

Two Level 90 humans with exceptional affinities, powerful Blessings, and weapons they clearly knew how to use.

Meanwhile, most of the demons behind Simon were wounded or exhausted.

’They’re dangerous.’

The thought passed through his mind without fear.

His wind continued rotating.

Behind him, Virella quietly drew her roots closer to the wounded. Rellis eased the limping Runemaster upright, while Rathen shifted his axe despite the trembling in his arm.

Sonya faced the sky.

For once, she had nothing insulting to say.

Akaza straightened, his gaze moving from the man’s spear to the woman’s staff.

An unnatural quiet settled over the split ridge.

Not over the entire battlefield.

Distant cannons still thundered. Explosions shook the slopes, and screams rose from the trenches farther down the mountain.

But the nearest rifles had stopped firing.

Simon noticed it immediately.

Human soldiers were withdrawing from the positions overlooking them. Some dragged wounded companions uphill. Others moved behind Frostveil’s icy-blue barriers, keeping their weapons lowered until they reached cover.

The second C-rank at the lower gate retreated with them.

Above, the short cannons along Frostveil’s terraces slowly turned away from the two assault cores. Winterspine remained at the summit, its cloudy crystal barrel gleaming through the pale mist.

They were clearing the area.

Not abandoning the watchtower, but making room.

Simon looked back at the twins.

The woman leaned forward slightly.

”They survived?”

Her voice was clear and lightly surprised, as though she had expected to find far fewer demons standing beneath her.

The man’s eyes moved across the wind sphere before settling on Simon.

”It seems Master was not wrong when he warned us not to take them lightly, Elara,” he said with an amused tone.

Elara studied the gouges surrounding the sphere.

Every spear had landed outside it.

The demons had stumbled. Their cover had been destroyed. Yet none of the four cases had been pierced.

”You’re right, Darius,” she replied, her surprise fading into a more measured expression.

Darius lowered his spear from his shoulder.

With his free hand, he pressed against the side of his neck and twisted his head.

Crack

Crack

A grin slowly spread across his face.

”At least this should be fun to a degree,” he said cheerfully. ”Hopefully, they don’t break easily.”

Elara gave him a sideways look.

”Do not take any of them lightly.”

”I know. I know. Master already told me a million times.”

”Especially the one with a single horn.”

Her eyes returned to Simon.

”He did not stop the spears. He turned them and deflected them.”

Darius’s grin widened.

”I noticed.”

”Then stop looking as though you have already won,” she said in a cool tone.

The red-haired man chuckled.

”I haven’t. That is why I am still interested.”

Below them, Ammor swallowed.

The twins were discussing them openly, without lowering their voices or making any attempt to conceal their intentions.

As though the demons could do nothing about it.

Simon remained still and did not have a change in his expression.

Darius rolled the spear once through his fingers, then let its tip angle toward the broken road.

”Come on,” he said indifferently. ”Let’s meet them. We can have a brief talk before killing them.”

He descended before Elara answered.

The air shimmered beneath his boots as he dropped toward the ridge, his spear held loosely at his side.

Elara shook her head.

Then the staff beneath her tilted and carried her after him.

Simon lowered his hands slightly.

The sphere’s forward currents shifted, remaining between the approaching humans and the wounded demons behind him.

Darius touched the ground first, and the ice softened beneath his boots.

Elara slipped from her staff and landed beside him, catching its shaft in one hand as ice spread beneath her feet.

The twins stood a few metres in front of Simon and the two assault cores.