Chapter 957 - 956: An Invitation From The Abyss

Simon, Sonya, Akaza, Virella, and Ammor stepped out of the rift.

The difference between the two battlefields was immediate.

On Earth, the fighting had stopped because of what Simon and the God of War had turned the battlefield into.

Here, there was barely anything left.

Simon remained in the air for several seconds as his gaze moved across what had once been the demon camp.

Most of the tents were gone.

Some had been burned until nothing remained except blackened poles and scraps of cloth. Others had been crushed beneath enormous sections of broken ground. Supply wagons had been overturned or shattered, while weapons, armour, pieces of formations, and bodies were scattered everywhere.

Large craters covered parts of the camp.

Long trenches cut through areas that Simon remembered being filled with soldiers before the invasion began.

The attack of the God of War had not simply killed demons.

It had torn the army apart before most of it could even enter Earth.

Only a small number of survivors remained.

Some searched through the wreckage. Others carried injured demons away from collapsed tents. A few simply sat among the ruins, looking as though they had not yet completely understood how an army of that size had disappeared so quickly.

Simon slowly descended.

Sonya landed beside him while the wind carrying Akaza, Virella, and Ammor lowered the three of them to the ground.

Simon was about to move when something caught his attention.

Several surviving demons were looking in the same direction.

Not continuously.

They would search a corpse or move through the wreckage, then glance toward one particular part of the camp before quickly looking away again.

Simon narrowed his eyes.

He activated SkyEye.

His vision passed through the smoke and broken structures, then he saw what they were looking at.

A large command tent remained standing near the edge of one of the destroyed sections of the camp.

Calling it intact would have been generous.

Half of the outer cloth had been torn away, several support poles were bent, and one side leaned badly enough that it looked ready to collapse.

Yet compared to everything surrounding it, the tent had survived remarkably well.

That was not what made Simon pause.

It was the familiar aura inside.

Simon stared at the tent for another second before a faint look of understanding appeared in his eyes.

He turned toward the others.

"Search around."

Akaza raised a brow.

Simon gestured toward the countless bodies spread across the ruined camp.

"Take anything useful. Artifacts, spatial rings, hell stones, weapons. Whatever survived."

Virella looked across the destruction.

"There are a lot of corpses."

"Several Demon Lords died here too," Simon replied. "The God of War wasn’t careful about who he killed."

Akaza’s eyes immediately moved toward some of the larger craters.

That changed things.

Even damaged artifacts belonging to Demon Lords could be valuable.

"And you?" he asked.

Simon looked toward the damaged command tent.

"I need to meet someone."

He pointed in the direction of the half-destroyed command tent.

Sonya turned her head in the same direction.

Her expression slowly changed.

She frowned.

"A snake?"

Simon glanced at her before chuckling softly.

"You’re right. He is."

His gaze returned to the tent.

"And it seems this snake has been busy while we remained on Earth."

Sonya’s expression did not relax.

"He’s strong."

"I know."

"Be careful."

Simon nodded.

"I will."

Space twisted around him.

He disappeared.

Akaza stared at the empty spot for a moment before looking toward the corpses.

"Several Demon Lords, huh?"

Virella sighed.

Then all four began searching.

Simon appeared outside the command tent.

The familiar aura was much clearer now.

He pushed aside what remained of the entrance and stepped inside.

His eyes immediately landed on Lord Enigma.

The silver-haired Daemon sat comfortably on a chair near the back of the tent.

His posture was relaxed.

Far too relaxed for someone sitting in the remains of an army that had recently been destroyed by a god.

Beside him was a small table.

A severed head rested upon it.

Fresh blood still dripped slowly from the neck.

Simon looked at it for only a moment before his attention shifted.

Four familiar demons were kneeling in front of Enigma.

Marek.

Korran.

Selan.

Dorel.

Simon stopped.

All four leaders of Black Horn’s Velmora branch turned their eyes toward him.

That was apparently the only part of their bodies they could move.

Their eyes widened.

Korran recognised him first.

The shock in his expression was almost immediate.

Then Marek, Selan, and Dorel reacted the same way.

Blackmoon.

He was alive.

The God of War had personally targeted him.

They had seen enough of that god’s strength to understand what that should have meant.

Yet Simon had returned.

Without injuries.

And he was different.

His appearance had changed considerably, but his aura was even more startling.

A Greater Demon.

The Archfiend who had entered the campaign under Black Horn had somehow become a Greater Demon within an impossibly short period of time.

Worse, merely sensing him made it obvious that those words did not properly describe his strength.

Marek tried to speak.

Nothing happened.

His lips barely moved.

Simon noticed.

"Poison?"

Enigma smiled.

"Paralytic poison to be specific."

Simon glanced at the four kneeling demons again.

"How considerate."

"I thought allowing them to run away before you arrived would have been rude."

Simon ignored the remark.

His gaze moved to the severed head.

He did not recognise the face.

The head belonged to a middle-aged demon with dark-red skin and two broken horns. The expression frozen upon his face still carried traces of disbelief.

Simon could feel the remaining aura inside it.

Strong.

Far too strong to belong to a Demon Lord.

"A Demon King."

Enigma nodded.

"Formerly."

Simon looked at him.

"Who?"

"Eshar."

Enigma leaned back slightly.

"A Prime Demon King of the Infernal Kingdom."

Simon looked at the head again.

Prime Demon King.

Even after death, traces of the power Eshar had possessed lingered inside his flesh.

"The second Demon King from the Darkness Kingdom escaped," Enigma continued. "Unfortunately, so did Prince Varen."

Simon slowly returned his attention to him.

"So that’s where you went."

Enigma’s smile widened.

Simon walked farther into the tent.

"I was wondering why I stopped sensing you on Earth."

He glanced around casually.

"You came back to the Demon Realm."

His gaze dropped toward Eshar’s head.

"Killed a Prime Demon King of the Infernal Kingdom."

Then he looked toward the four kneeling demons.

"Apparently tried to kill another Demon King from the Darkness Kingdom and its Seventh Prince."

Marek’s eyes twitched.

"And while doing that, you somehow captured the four leaders of Black Horn’s Velmora branch."

Simon stopped several metres from Enigma.

"Why?"

Enigma looked amused.

"I had a feeling that would be your first real question."

"It isn’t difficult to guess."

"No."

The Daemon crossed one leg over the other.

"I did it because I believed you would eventually defeat the God of War."

Simon tilted his head slightly.

"You were that confident?"

"Confident enough to prepare for what would come afterward."

Simon studied him.

Enigma continued.

"And because I would prefer to remain on good terms with you."

Simon said nothing for several seconds.

Then he asked,

"Explain."

Enigma’s fingers tapped once against the arm of his chair.

"Our first meeting wasn’t bad."

His smile became slightly strange.

"But I don’t think either of us would describe it as particularly pleasant."

Simon remembered their first encounter.

That was one way of putting it.

Enigma continued before he could reply.

"You don’t trust easily."

"That is true."

"Good."

Simon raised a brow.

Enigma chuckled.

"People who trust easily don’t usually live very long where I come from."

His eyes briefly moved toward Marek and the others.

"So I considered what would make a better impression than words."

He gestured toward them.

"The four leaders of Black Horn."

Then toward the empty space beside them.

"The Seventh Prince was supposed to be included."

Simon looked at him without changing expression.

"Supposed to be?"

"He escaped."

"You already mentioned that."

"I remain disappointed."

Simon stared at him.

Enigma stared back.

Neither spoke for several heartbeats.

The four leaders kneeling between them could only listen.

Eventually, Simon’s eyes narrowed.

"You killed a Prime Demon King, hunted another Demon King and Prince Varen, captured Marek and the others, and waited here because you wanted to get on my good side."

"That is the simple version."

"Why?"

Enigma became quiet.

This time, his smile did not immediately return.

Simon noticed the change.

"You’ve gone through quite a lot of trouble for someone you barely know," Simon continued. "And I don’t believe you’re doing this because you suddenly decided you like me."

Enigma released a slow sigh.

"No."

The lightness disappeared from his expression.

He leaned forward, placing both forearms upon his thighs.

For the first time since Simon entered, the strange Daemon looked completely serious.

"There is a reason."

Simon waited.

Enigma’s serpentine eyes remained fixed upon him.

Then he spoke.

"I want you to join us."

Simon tilted his head slightly.

"Us?"

Enigma smiled faintly.

"Our organisation."

The tent became silent.

Even Marek’s eyes shifted slightly toward Enigma.

Simon stared at him.

Enigma’s smile slowly returned.

"The Abyss."

He paused.

Then extended one hand toward Simon.

"Consider this your invitation to The Abyss."