Chapter 939 - 938: More Time

The hammer remained raised.

But the God of War was no longer looking at Enigma.

His gaze travelled over the figure on the ridge, returned to the Chaos Blade, then climbed to Simon’s face again.

Enigma slowly lowered his claws.

Blackmoon had returned.

Not limping. Not struggling to keep himself upright. He stood with the easy confidence of someone arriving to collect a debt, while Enigma’s blood was still dripping onto the stones.

The god’s grip tightened.

"You."

Simon looked at him.

"Are you truly the demon I held at my mercy on Earth?"

Suspicion sharpened the question. The resemblance was there, but accepting what his senses were telling him was another matter.

"The one who could only run away from me?"

Simon chuckled softly.

"You spent so much time holding me by the neck. I thought you’d remember my face."

The God of War did not answer.

He lowered the hammer a little and examined him more carefully.

Black skin. Ivory stripes visible through the open collar and on his exposed arms. Four pale horns instead of the one he remembered, and a thin vertical mark between the brows.

The body was taller, broader, more heavily muscled. White hair fell past his waist, and his features had become sharper and almost offensively handsome.

As for the aura... it was something else.

Demonic energy gathered around Simon without the violent disturbance of someone drawing upon the realm at full strength. It approached him steadily, then settled close to his body instead of dispersing.

The wind crossing the ridge bent around his feet.

A shower of dust descended from a broken ledge. When it reached the space above his shoulder, it slowed and slid aside.

Simon had not looked at it.

The God of War extended a little of his own pressure.

Dust flattened between them. Loose stones ground against the earth.

But near Simon, several pebbles remained suspended in the air.

The young Daemon glanced at them, and they dropped.

His smile did not change.

The god’s eyes narrowed.

He had seen demons control their surroundings. He had seen powerful beings seize demonic energy and bend it into techniques.

This was different.

The realm resisted his divine presence. Around Simon, parts of it seemed to accept instructions he had scarcely bothered to give.

Beneath that unnatural response, the power inside him remained tightly contained.

The God of War could feel heat without flames. Destruction without an attack. And something hungry enough to make him draw the Aether over his damaged armour closer to his skin.

He examined Simon’s heart.

A Prime Forged Heart.

A Prime Greater Demon.

That advancement should have been astonishing by itself. Instead, it was almost the least troubling thing about him.

The strength he sensed did not belong at that rank.

It belonged among Demon Kings.

It did not mean that the creature could defeat every Demon King he met. But dismissing him as a Greater Demon would be an error even a mortal should know better than to make.

The god’s gaze moved briefly toward the ruined horizon.

Then everything settled into place.

"It was you."

Simon tilted his head.

"The crimson tribulation. The Daemon beneath it." The god’s voice grew quieter. "And HIM."

His remaining fingers tightened around the hammer.

"All this time... it was you."

"Hmm."

Simon kept his expression mild.

However, he had not expected that recognition.

’So he knows about The One? Interesting.’

The God of War had recognised something that had left Enigma searching for answers.

"How?" the god demanded.

"How what?" Simon asked with raised brows.

"How did you become a Daemon? How did you obtain this strength?"

His eyes fixed upon Simon’s.

"And how did you survive HIM?"

Simon considered the questions with an expression of exaggerated seriousness.

Then he smiled.

"I’d explain, but I’m not sure you can bear the weight of the knowledge."

The hammer’s overlapping outlines thickened and a vein appeared on the god’s forehead.

He, a god, and not just any god. He was the God of War.

He could not bear the weight of the knowledge?

That was an insult and a massive slap to his face.

Enigma spoke before the god could.

"Blackmoon. Why are you here?"

Simon raised his brows.

"To kill him."

He indicated the God of War with the lowered Chaos Blade.

"I thought that part was clear."

Enigma frowned.

"You have just survived a tribulation that tore the land apart. Now you want to fight a god?"

"I didn’t come to admire him."

"This is not a joke."

There was no contempt in Enigma’s voice. He did not sound offended by Simon’s confidence, or eager to put him in his place.

He sounded concerned.

"New strength makes old dangers look smaller. Sometimes they are. Sometimes you simply haven’t learned what your strength cannot do yet."

His wounded shoulder shifted.

"Do not become so drunk on what you gained that you throw away the life you nearly lost obtaining it."

For a moment, Simon said nothing.

He had expected suspicion. Questions. Perhaps an attempt to try and attack him out of greed or some other emotion.

But definitely not this.

His smile softened slightly.

"Don’t worry."

He stepped down from the ridge.

"I might be arrogant, Lord Enigma. But I’m not a fool."

His gaze moved to the god’s battered breastplate.

"And I can see you made sure he didn’t spend the time resting."

Enigma studied him.

There was no tremor in his breathing. No uncontrolled release of demonic energy. Even the hand around his sword looked relaxed.

He could not tell whether that confidence was justified.

But it was not the excitement of someone who had forgotten how to think.

"If you have decided, I won’t stop you."

Enigma moved slightly aside.

"However, listen first. His Chosen possesses the World-Sovereign Physique."

Simon’s attention sharpened.

’The World Sovereign Physique?"

Simon knew of the physique. It was not strange to him at all.

"The boy has an actual world inside him. Not a storage space. Not an illusion. That world gives the god of war a lot of room to exist and use his powers without forcing all his power through the body and soul of his chosen."

Enigma glanced at the god.

"If you corner him, he may draw more power into it. A normal vessel might rupture. This one can endure much more."

Enigma paused for a moment, then his expression became more serious.

"I don’t know what his limit is, but his present strength is definitely not the limit."

Simon looked at Enigma for another moment with a questioning gaze, and the older Daemon understood the question in his eyes.

"I need you alive, Blackmoon. There is a great deal we need to discuss."

Simon was about to answer, but iron-grey light swept toward him.

He saw the Aether gather before the weapon reached him. Space folded beneath his foot, and his figure disappeared.

The hammer struck the ridge behind him.

BOOOOOOM!

Stone burst upward. The first impact split the ridge and the overlapping hammerheads drove through it in succession, crushing the broken halves into the ground.

Enigma turned toward the god.

The God of War stood beyond the explosion, his expression colder than it had been during their entire exchange.

"Am I being looked down upon by two mortals?"

Aether rolled off Darius’s damaged armour.

"Two remnants of a fallen race, discussing me as though I am something you can pass between yourselves?"

Simon appeared upon a broken slab to his left.

"No."

His voice was quiet.

The god turned.

Within Simon’s solar plexus, the cube rearranged its nine white flows. Wind and Lightning strengthened his legs while Space shortened the distance ahead.

Then he vanished.

The God of War sensed the spatial fold opening.

His mind recognised the danger.

But his body had not yet completed the turn.

Simon was already in front of him.

The Chaos Blade remained low in his right hand.

His left was reaching forward.

Black fingers filled the god’s vision.

’This speed-’

He tried to pull his head back.

An iron-grey shield began forming between them, no larger than a coin when Simon’s palm passed its edge.

The god’s remaining arm jerked upward.

But it was too late.

"I was only giving you more time to remain in this world."

Simon’s palm struck his face.

His fingers closed over the god’s temples, and his thumb locked beneath the cheekbone.

The shock in the God’s eyes vanished behind the hand.

Simon stepped through the space the god occupied.

His elbow bent.

Then his left arm drove down.

The god’s body followed his head. His heels tore free of the stone, his back arched, and the hammer swung uselessly away from Simon.

For an instant, Enigma saw the god suspended beneath the younger Daemon’s outstretched arm.

Then Simon dragged him down.

BOOOOOOM!

The back of the God of War’s skull struck the ground beneath Simon’s palm, and the ridge caved in around them.