Chapter 1087: 1086: Common Sense
Veyra froze.
For a heartbeat, the dagger pressing against Simon’s scales stopped moving. Her cold smile stiffened on her face.
"What are you talking about?"
Simon looked at her calmly.
"You don’t have to pretend anymore."
He pushed her dagger back another inch.
"This body is a fake. And you aren’t Veyra."
Her eyes narrowed.
"If I’m right," Simon continued, "then the real Veyra is either dead or captured. Most likely from the moment she returned to check on her post."
He let his gaze drift past her shoulder toward the city. Toward the terraces, the white streets, the stairways leading down into the shelters.
"And if this is the worst-case scenario," he said quietly, "then your people are already inside the city."
Veyra’s face changed.
The cold smile vanished completely. Her green eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked genuinely shaken.
"How did you…?" Her voice dropped. "Who the hell are you?"
Simon smiled lightly.
"I’m Blackmoon," he said. "The bastard who killed Thorgan."
The shock drained from her face.
What replaced it was hatred, raw and absolute, so intense that the hot air around them seemed to turn cold.
"You fucking-!"
She lunged.
The black dagger flashed toward his eye.
Simon raised his right forearm again. Black scales surged beneath the Chaos Wraps.
KRANG!
Sparks burst between them.
In the same instant, the Chaos Blade tore out of Simon’s chest and landed in his left hand. A long black blade with a thin crimson edge.
He swung.
Veyra twisted away.
Or tried to.
The air around her waist suddenly tightened. Simon’s Seed of Pride clamped down on her, and the wind answered it, spinning into three tight rings that coiled around her body like chains. They locked her in place.
Her eyes went wide.
"What-?!"
The Chaos Blade passed through her right arm just below the shoulder.
SHHK!
The arm fell away, still clutching the dagger, and dropped toward the boiling sea.
Veyra screamed.
It wasn’t a scream of rage. It was pain. Real, overwhelming pain that tore out of her throat and shook her entire body against the wind chains.
She stared at the stump where her arm had been. Her face was twisted in disbelief.
This body was a clone. She was not supposed to feel this.
Simon reached out and closed his hand around her throat.
He drew her close until their faces were only inches apart, and he looked into her green eyes. The rage in them couldn’t quite hide the confusion beneath it.
"Surprised?" he asked.
She bared her teeth.
"Normally, a clone or a puppet isn’t supposed to feel pain," Simon said calmly. "And whoever controls it isn’t supposed to feel anything when it’s damaged."
His grip tightened slightly.
"So let me tell you one thing."
His voice turned cold.
"Common sense doesn’t work on me."
Veyra glared at him. Her eyes were filled with rage and murder, and her voice came out low and venomous.
"Who the fuck are you?"
Simon smiled at her.
"Your nightmare."
He leaned closer and let the wind fold around the two of them, sealing their voices inside a thin barrier so that nothing would carry beyond it.
Then he whispered into her ear.
"Did you really believe that using an artificial Seed of Sin would be enough to kill me?"
Veyra went rigid.
Her lips parted. Her eyes darted to his face, and for an instant, something close to fear flickered in them.
"How do you-"
The Chaos Blade moved.
SHHHK!
Her head left her shoulders.
For a moment, it hung in the air, her mouth still open around the unfinished word.
Then her features began to soften.
Her skin turned clear, then liquid. Her hair, her eyes and her open mouth collapsed into water. The body in Simon’s grip lost its shape and slipped through the wind chains, splashing apart in a shower of droplets.
The hot wind caught them.
Before they could reach the sea, they evaporated into thin wisps of steam.
Simon watched the last drops disappear.
His expression didn’t change. But his mind was already moving.
’So it seems her real body never noticed my seeds of sin. If she did, she wouldn’t have been surprised that I knew about her seed of sin.’
He had noticed something was wrong from the moment she started talking to him on the battlefield.
He had perceived three things.
The first was the anger and hatred inside her.
She had hidden it well behind her calm voice and dry humour. But his Seed of Wrath had felt it anyway, a deep, simmering hatred aimed directly at him.
That had baffled him.
When he first met Veyra in the Watch Hall, there had been no hatred at all. His Seed of Pride had even sensed respect from her after the test. Yet on the battlefield, she had suddenly been full of loathing, as if he had wronged her.
The second thing was the presence of a Seed of Sin.
But it had been strange. It wasn’t complete. It didn’t feel like a natural Seed of Sin, and it didn’t quite feel like an artificial one either. It was more as though the aura of a Seed of Sin had been placed inside her.
It felt more like an artifical seed of sin, and he had called it artificial to see how she would react.
Her reaction had told him enough.
And the Veyra he met in the Watch Hall had carried nothing like a Seed of Sin.
The third thing was that she hadn’t been as dangerous as before.
His instincts were frighteningly accurate.
With the bloodlines of a Royal Daemon and a Royal Daemon beast, four Seeds of Sin that dealt with emotions in their own ways, and the experience of two lives, he could usually tell how dangerous someone was, unless they were monstrously skilled at hiding their aura and abilities.
And this Veyra had felt weaker.
Not by much. But enough for her not to be a problem to him.
So he had stayed on guard against her from the very beginning. He had activated Hollow Sky Eye the moment she started talking to him.
He trusted his defences. But against something this strange, he hadn’t wanted to take any risks. Nobody knew how she would strike, or with what. Letting her see what she wanted to see, while keeping himself out of reach, had been the safest choice.
And he had been right.
What he hadn’t expected was for her to be one of Thorgan’s sisters.
That had been shocking. It had stirred up a few old emotions.
But nothing more than that.
The deed was done. It belonged to the past, and dwelling on that day wouldn’t change anything or keep him alive.
He had to focus on the present.
He didn’t know what Thorgan’s sister truly looked like. He didn’t know her real name, her true heart rank, or how strong she really was.
That worried him.
But he knew one thing. Wherever the real Veyra was, Thorgan’s sister was most likely there too.
And Veyra could already be dead.
Simon’s eyes drifted back toward the city.
He had a feeling that things were far worse than they looked, and that Vhal-Sar was in a much more precarious position than anyone realised.
He knew so little about this invasion. He didn’t know how many members of The Dominion were involved, who they were, or what they had already done.
’If only the attack had not happened when it did. I need to know more.’
Simon released a slow sigh.
Suddenly, his instincts screamed.
He spun and brought the Chaos Blade up in front of him with black scales racing up his forearm at the same moment.
BOOOOM!
Something struck the blade with enough force to shake his bones.
Simon was thrown through the sky. The impact tore through his guard and into his body, and blood sprayed from his mouth, falling in a thin red trail along the path he flew.
He hadn’t even stopped moving when his instincts screamed again.
He forced the blade up a second time.
BANG!
The second blow was heavier than the first. It hurled him backward even faster, and he slammed into The Wall.
The golden barrier flared behind him. Pain shot through his back.
Something flashed toward his face.
Simon tilted his head at the last instant.
CLANG!
The tip of a massive sword crashed into The Wall beside his ear, so close that it cut a few strands of his white hair.
Simon looked up at its owner.
Torvek.
The big Daemon held a greatsword nearly as long as he was tall, its broad blade pressed against the barrier beside Simon’s head. His grey braid was soaked with blood and seawater.
However, his face was dark with fury.
His killing intent was so thick it made the air shudder.
"I saw you," Torvek said. His voice was low and rough, barely more than a growl. "I saw you take her arm. I saw you take her head."
He pulled the greatsword back an inch, its edge turning toward Simon’s throat.
"I told you not to die, Blackmoon."
His eyes burned.
"But I’ll explain to the Sovereign myself why I had to kill you for murdering Veyra."