The Broken Halo

Simon had not chosen to use the dead Tempest Tyrant, Vhaurak, at random.

A lie was strongest when most of its pieces had once been true.

Vhaurak had existed and the Tempest Tyrant had possessed terrifying control over wind. His pale-green storms, skeletal frame, old scars, and unsettling eyes belonged to a demon who had once made entire regions fear the name Mad Wind of the West.

Most importantly, Vhaurak was dead.

A living demon could be found, questioned, bribed, threatened, or forced to deny Simon’s story. A dead one could do none of those things.

Using Vhaurak gave Simon’s lie several advantages.

It explained the attack that supposedly tore through the earth and Furnaceback Centipede’s armour. It gave Korran another suspect capable of stealing the carrier’s ring and removing the three cases. It also redirected attention toward a powerful unknown demon instead of leaving Simon as the only survivor connected to everything that happened underground.

The lie had weaknesses too.

Velmora might possess old records of Vhaurak. Korran could eventually compare Simon’s description with those records and discover that the Tempest Tyrant had died long ago. Someone older or more knowledgeable might even recognise the description immediately.

But even that would not destroy the lie completely.

A demon could inherit Vhaurak’s techniques. Another could copy his appearance. A surviving follower, descendant, or enemy might deliberately resemble him. Simon had described the stranger without giving a name, which allowed several explanations to exist if the truth about Vhaurak surfaced.

And if every explanation failed...

Simon would cross that bridge when he reached it.

He did not need Korran and Tarvak to believe him forever. He only needed the lie to survive long enough.

Long enough for Crownless Dawn to progress.

Long enough for the road to Earth to be copied.

Long enough for Black Horn and Black Banner to continue tearing at one another while Simon used both sides to evolve his bloodline.

After that, whether Korran discovered one lie or a hundred would matter far less.

Simon understood that he was playing a game of chess with demons who did not know the full board. Korran believed the missing cases, the carrier, the unknown rescuer, and Simon were separate pieces whose movements had to be reconstructed.

Simon knew that several of those pieces were merely different names placed over his own hand.

The danger was not small.

A single contradiction could make Korran and Black Horn to move against him. Tarvak could order the gates sealed. Black Horn could separate him from Sonya and Akaza, search his belongings, or place observers around every road he walked.

Worst case scenario, he could be wanted dead by both officials. Which would mean he would become a wanted criminal in Velmora and the Darkness Kingdom as a whole.

Yet Simon’s newfound strength changed how much risk he could accept.

Korran possessed a Superior Forged Heart, making him a Superior Greater Demon. Tarvak had a Prime Forged Heart and was only a Prime Greater Demon.

Simon was confident he could defeat either one.

With his skills, affinities, artifacts, and current physical body, he was even somewhat confident he could defeat both if they attacked together.

However, that confidence did not make him foolish enough to start a battle inside Velmora.

He still recalled the Biggest Kev who remained in the city.

Black Horn still had a commander above Korran. Velmora had a City Lord, hidden formations, soldiers, and experts Simon had never seen. Defeating the two demons in this room would mean little if a Demon Lord arrived before he escaped the walls and gates of Velmora.

Simon was stronger, not untouchable.

So he continued walking the same narrow line he had followed for most of his life... close enough to death to take what others were too frightened to reach, but never so carelessly that one wrong step became his last.

Korran’s voice pulled the room back into focus.

"What was the technique?"

Simon looked at him with slightly raised brows.

"The one you used inside the Furnaceback Centipede," Korran clarified. "What is it called?"

Simon answered without hesitation.

"Fury Tempest Art."

Tarvak repeated the name quietly.

Korran’s eyes narrowed. "Was that technique also given to you by this unknown family or clan you refuse to discuss?"

Simon shook his head.

"No."

"Then where did you obtain an art capable of injuring a Half-Step Abyssal Beast?"

"The rock gambling den."

The answer caused both officials to have strange expressions.

Tarvak stared at Simon with an incredulous expression.

"The what?"

"The rock gambling den in Velmora," Simon replied. "I obtained it from one of the rocks there."

Korran and Tarvak looked at one another.

For the first time since the interrogation began, they shared the same strange expression.

It was not belief and it was not complete disbelief either.

Rock gambling dens were built around impossible discoveries. Most sealed stones contained worthless material, broken objects, or things so old that their purpose had disappeared with their creators. Occasionally, however, someone opened a stone and found an inheritance, artifact, technique, or treasure worth more than the entire building and even Velmora itself.

The revelation was absurd, but that did not make it impossible.

More importantly, it could be checked.

Korran suddenly recalled that Simon obtained a book when he went to the rock gambling den, and his eyes flickered with the light of realization.

’So, that’s the name of the technique he obtained back then.’

Though Korran had this thought, he still planned on verifying the information. He knew that Simon obtained a book and a technique from the rock gambling den, but he had no idea what the name of the technique was.

Both demons silently added the gambling den to the growing list of details that needed verification.

"That’s oddly convenient," Tarvak said coldly.

Simon’s expression remained calm and he nonchalantly shrugged.

"Then verify it."

Tarvak folded his arms.

"You expect us to believe you walked into a gambling den, chose a rock, and left with a technique powerful enough to frighten a Half-Step Abyssal Beast?"

"I did not say the technique frightened it by itself."

Simon’s sky-blue eyes remained calm as he stared at both demons with a fearless gaze.

"I attacked from inside its body. Its armour, size, and most of its natural defences could not protect the softer parts around its head. The same attack from outside would not have achieved the same result."

Simon’s words made sense, but Tarvak disliked that it did.

There was just something about Simon’s calm confidence, nonchalant attitude, and arrogance that was beginning to irritate him.

Tarvak leaned forward slightly.

"How does the Fury Tempest Art work?"

A faint smile appeared on Simon’s face.

"We will have to go outside for me to show you."

His gaze briefly moved around the small inspection office.

"Unless you do not mind me wrecking this room."

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[A/N: Read the author’s note below. It’s VERY VERY IMPORTANT!]

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