The Broken Halo Chapter 803

The Demon Lord Blackmoon claims he encountered beneath the cracked lands.”

The Biggest Kev’s dull-yellow eyes remained on Prince Varen, but they were slightly narrowed compared to before.

“What about him?”

Varen did not answer immediately. He reached toward the second table, drew one of the sealed reports into his hand, and broke the black wax with his thumb.

“The description Blackmoon gave Korran was unusually detailed,” he said as he unfolded the report. “An extremely thin body. Ashen skin. Old wounds that looked stitched rather than healed. Torn dark robes. Hair that moved against the wind.”

His eyes rose from the page.

“Pale-green eyes with something resembling lightning inside them.”

The metal jaw of Kev’s Blood Jaguar helmet shifted faintly.

Varen continued.

“He also claimed this demon used a narrow pale-green storm to drill through layers of earth and the armour of a Furnaceback Centipede.”

“You recognise him,” Kev said with his eyes flashing with the light of realization.

“I do.”

Varen placed the report across one knee.

“The demon was Vhaurak, the Tempest Tyrant. In the western territories, he was also called the Mad Wind of the West.”

Kev had heard the name before, but he only knew very little about the Demon Lord.

All he knew was that Vhaurak had been feared for creating storms and winds that compressed, twisted, and bored through whatever stood before him until fortresses, mountains, and enemies were dismantled and hollow.

“Since you know the Demon Lord, doesn’t that mean that you can use your connections to find him and question him?” Kev asked, not knowing that the Demon Lord was long dead.

When it came to demons, he cared very little for them. But when it came to artifacts, he followed every news and information that could be followed about an artifact or artifacts he was interested in.

Varen knew this, so he chuckled softly.

“Vhaurak died a long time ago.”

Kev raised a brow.

“You are certain?”

“Very.”

Varen’s fingers moved over the edge of the report.

“Just like Blackmoon, I also possess a wind affinity. Years ago, while travelling through the western territories, I discovered one of the inheritances Vhaurak left behind.”

A trace of memory entered his grey eyes.

The inheritance had rested at the peak of a floating mountain protected by layers of wind that cut sound, scent, and demonic perception apart. Varen had spent months locating its true entrance and nearly died several times.

But he succeeded.

Inside, he had seen a remnant projection of the Tempest Tyrant.

The same skeletal body.

The same ashen skin and stitched wounds.

The same pale-green eyes carrying lightning.

“I was fortunate enough to obtain the inheritance,” Varen continued. “It taught me several principles concerning compression, rotation, and the use of wind even in confined spaces. The Tempest Tyrant was truly extraordinary. More importantly, it preserved Vhaurak’s appearance and parts of his battle history.”

Kev tilted his head slightly.

He rarely heard the seventh prince praise an individual which meant the Tempest Tyrant must have been an exceptional demon.

’Well… I rarely interact with the Seventh Prince so what am I even saying?’

“And you’re sure he’s dead?”

The Seventh Prince nodded slightly.

“I am. I confirmed this through the royal archives of the kingdom. The inheritance was also prepared because he knew he would not survive his final battle.”

Varen tapped Blackmoon’s statement once.

“The demon described in this report did not save Blackmoon beneath the cracked lands. Unless Vhaurak has somehow walked out of death without anybody knowing or reporting it.”

Kev became quiet, then he spoke.

“So Blackmoon lied.”

“At least about his rescuer.”

Varen’s tone remained calm and indifferent.

“There are other possibilities. Someone could have inherited Vhaurak’s techniques, copied his appearance, or deliberately imitated his storms. But Blackmoon described the Tempest Tyrant too precisely for coincidence.”

His eyes sharpened.

“He chose a dead demon and placed him inside a story that could not easily be verified.”

Kev thought of Simon’s calm expression inside Pipeline Inn.

The refusal to explain.

The dismissive answers.

The way he watched every reaction.

’I just want to study artifacts. Why am I being dragged into this mess?’

After Kev had this thought, Varen leaned back.

“Everything you told me makes him more interesting, not less. The reports describe a young Archfiend with impossible luck. You describe someone cautious enough to negotiate against a Half-Step Demon Lord and observant enough to study the demon questioning him.”

“And now you know he lied.”

“Yes.”

Varen smiled faintly.

“That tells me he understands the value of a convincing lie. Most demons lie by inventing something completely false. Blackmoon used the appearance and abilities of a demon who once existed.”

Kev tilted his helmet.

“What do you plan to do?”

“My first objective has not changed.”

Varen’s amusement faded.

“The rift to Earth must open successfully. Black Banner cannot be allowed to delay it again, damage the rift, or seize control of the first crossing.”

He raised one finger.

“My second objective is to expose the rebels operating inside Velmora. Their cells, informants, suppliers, and every official who has sold them information.”

A second finger followed.

“As for Blackmoon, I will learn what he is doing before deciding what he deserves. If he obstructs the campaign or I confirm that he serves Black Banner, he will be dealt with severely.”

Kev gave no reaction.

“But until then,” Varen continued, “I will read every report, question every department, and rebuild the sequence of failures that brought Velmora to this point.”

His gaze drifted toward the window and the city beyond it.

“For some reason, the situation feels larger than a few successful attempts by the rebels.”

Kev’s helmet turned slightly.

“What do you mean?”

Varen spoke almost beneath his breath.

“I have the feeling that a greater power is moving pieces behind the scenes.”

Kev became genuinely baffled.

The Darkness Kingdom was the strongest kingdom and force in the Demon Realm. Its royal family commanded armies, cities, Demon Lords, and resources few organisations could challenge openly.

What greater power could manipulate events beneath its notice?

“Black Banner?” Kev asked.

“Perhaps…. Perhaps someone is using Black Banner… Or perhaps I’m just overthinking it all.”

Varen’s expression remained calm, then he looked at the Biggest Kev.

“That is why I investigate before I strike.”

Kev considered the answer, then rested his gauntlets on his knees again while shaking his head.

“As long as I eventually study Blackmoon’s artifacts, you may investigate, arrest, or question whoever you want. I don’t want to be dragged into this mess.”

Varen looked at him for a moment before chuckling.

“You have always been the same. I don’t think you can ever change.”

Kev ignored the amusement in his voice. Instead, he asked that has always been on his mind.

“Why is the City Lord not here?”

Varen raised a brow.

“I have not seen him since arriving in Velmora,” Kev added. “Korran never mentioned him either.”

“The City Lord has been in closed-door cultivation for some time now.”

“For what purpose?” Kev asked.

“He is attempting to push his Abyssal Heart from the Superior stage into the Supreme stage.”

Kev’s dull-yellow eyes widened slightly behind the helmet.

“A Supreme Demon Lord so soon?”

Varen nodded slightly.

“If he succeeds.”

Kev gave a low, impressed grunt.

“He truly is one of the most talented City Lords in the kingdom.”

“Talent is why the palace allowed his absence during this situation,” Varen said. “Interrupting the breakthrough could waste decades of preparation or damage his heart. Until he emerges, I hold the highest authority in Velmora and make all the decisions in the city.”

Kev looked toward the city through the long window. Then another thought came to him.

“Has it been confirmed that the seven lords of the east will also join the campaign to Earth?”