The Broken Halo Chapter 819

The red timer continued counting down above the floating map.

06:22

06:21

None of the five leaders looked away from the black fracture representing the rift.

Dorian was the first to break the silence.

“There is something else all of you should know.”

Tomas glanced toward him. “If this is another complaint about soldiers frightening beasts away from your hunting grounds, save it until after the battle.”

Dorian’s thick brows lowered.

“My hunters were the ones who cleared those forests so your assault division would not be trampled by a migrating herd.”

“And you have reminded me four times.”

“Five,” Pavel corrected without looking away from the six lenses rotating around his head.

Dorian ignored both men.

“Last night, I received a message from the Oracle of the High Tatras. She said a prince of the Darkness Kingdom would cross in this invasion.”

The light amusement around the table disappeared.

Ilona’s fingers stopped above the casualty screen.

“A prince?” she asked quietly.

Dorian nodded.

“She described black wings, ivory horns, and a white authority resting over his head even though he wore no crown.”

Mara’s metallic eye rotated once.

“The White Crown.”

Tomas rested one hand on the wrapped spear beside him.

“Do we know which prince?”

“No name,” Dorian replied. “The Oracle only said that he carries the authority of the east and searches for secrets before he draws blood.”

Pavel finally looked away from his lenses.

“That is unusually specific for a prophecy. Most seers prefer nonsense vague enough to become correct after the disaster.”

“You say that every time one warns us about something your formations fail to predict,” Dorian said.

“Formations provide measurements. Prophecy provides poetry.”

“And yet you are listening.”

“Because refusing information simply because I dislike its form would make me an idiot.”

Mara raised a hand before the argument could continue.

“If a royal prince is coming, then the Demon Realm is treating this campaign as more than an ordinary territorial invasion.”

Tomas’s mouth curved slightly.

“Good. I would rather know where their strongest fighters are than wonder whether they remained behind the rift.”

Ilona gave him a tired look.

“You say that because you are not the one who has to repair everyone they tear apart.”

“You have repaired worse.”

“That is not an invitation to provide me with more work.”

A faint smile appeared beneath Dorian’s beard, but it vanished when Mara spoke again.

“The prince is not the only warning we received.”

The others focused on her.

Mara touched the edge of the floating map. The mountain image dimmed, and pale letters appeared above the table.

“Two days ago, the Blind Sister of Retezat Monastery requested a private meeting with me.”

Pavel’s expression changed slightly.

Unlike many wandering seers, the Blind Sister had a record that governments and military fronts could not dismiss.

“What did she see?” Ilona asked.

Mara recited the words exactly.

“When the black wound opens beneath the northern teeth, three calamities will cross beneath one shadow.”

The air inside the tent seemed to grow colder.

“One will hear the mountains without eyes. One will carry battle within his blood and bend the weight beneath his feet.”

Mara paused before continuing.

“The last will wear the face of a dead moon and return to the world that buried him.”

No one spoke.

“Together, they will walk where armies break. If the three are not stopped before the first anchor takes root, the mountains will drink the blood of both worlds.”

The prophecy remained above the table in pale writing.

Tomas was the first to respond.

“Three calamities could mean three Calamity Beasts.”

“No,” Pavel said. “The descriptions are too individual. The first sounds like an earth-user with unusual perception. The second may possess gravity or weight manipulation.”

“And the third?” Ilona asked.

Pavel’s eyes narrowed at the line about the dead moon.

“I do not know.”

Dorian released a low breath.

“That is precisely why I dislike prophecies.”

Pavel gave him a flat look. “You were the one who brought up an oracle.”

“I dislike being right about disliking them.”

Mara dismissed the pale letters with a movement of her fingers.

“The Central Defence Council accepted the warning as credible. Reinforcements are already travelling here.”

“How many?” Tomas asked.

“Three additional A-ranks have confirmed deployment. Two more are waiting for clearance from their territories.”

Ilona looked toward the timer.

“They will not arrive before the rift opens.”

“No,” Mara replied. “We hold the line until they do.”

Dorian folded his arms.

“And the S-ranks?”

“We requested one,” Mara responded, but her answer produced no relief.

S-ranks were not idle weapons waiting inside a vault. Each guarded a location whose fall could cost millions of lives. Removing one from a permanent rift, a world scar, or a major city could create a disaster somewhere else.

Mara continued.

“The Council is considering the request because of the prophecy, but I was given no promise. We should assume no S-rank is coming.”

Tomas nodded once.

“Then we fight with what we have.”

Ilona’s expression remained solemn.

“One would think that they would learn after the fall of Arad.”

Silence followed the name.

Years ago, the Blind Sister of Retezat Monastery had warned that a calamity would emerge from a southern rift and reduce a great city to silence.

Human commanders had prepared for a Calamity Beast or a Greater Demon.

They had stationed C-rank Demon Slayers, anti-beast artillery, and formations designed to hold an enemy at Forged Heart level.

However, what emerged was an Abyssal Beast.

The creature crossed the first wall before the defenders understood their mistake. It destroyed the command centre, shattered the city barrier from within, and killed hundreds of thousands before a B-rank force arrived.

Arad had never been rebuilt.

“We misunderstood one word,” Ilona said. “And a city paid for it.”

Pavel’s six lenses rotated faster.

“Which is why we are not assuming the three calamities belong to the rank carrying that name.”

“They may be Demon Lords,” Dorian said.

“Or worse,” Mara replied.

Tomas tightened his grip on the spear.

“Whatever they are, they can bleed.”

Mara looked at him.

“That confidence is useful at the front. Inside this tent, I need judgement.”

“You will have both.”

Before Mara could answer, the silver communication plate on the table flashed red.

A voice burst from it through heavy static.

“Commander!”

Mara turned sharply.

The speaker was breathing too quickly.

“The rift has opened. It opened ahead of the predicted time.”

Everyone looked toward the timer.

02:47

Mara’s right eye narrowed.

“Report.”

The voice on the other side hesitated.

“B-but… something strange is happening.”