Chapter 959 - 958: Closing The Wound (Magic Castle Bonus - )

[A/N: This bonus Chapter is once again thanks to Kollum!!!]

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Simon could have spared them.

The four leaders were too weak to threaten him now, and what they had done was not something he intended to waste his days resenting. They were cowards who had mistaken their positions for strength. Marek, their commander, had been the worst of them.

Prince Varen was the one Simon would have preferred to kill.

Unfortunately for him, and fortunately for the prince, Varen had escaped.

The four bodies remained where they had fallen.

They knew too much about him. Korran, especially, had observed him long before this campaign.

Simon did not imagine their deaths would prevent the Kingdom of Darkness or another kingdom from investigating him. There were records, witnesses, and other ways to obtain information.

But there was no reason to make the task easier.

More importantly, these four had learned firsthand what it meant to underestimate him. Given the chance, they could have passed that lesson to someone far stronger.

Simon preferred his enemies to discover their mistake themselves.

"Have you ever wanted a portion of Earth?"

Enigma’s question interrupted his thoughts.

Simon looked up.

"The humans beyond the rift are exhausted," Enigma continued. "If we returned together, we could wipe them out and claim that region. I would place our chances of success between ninety-five and ninety-eight percent."

Simon shook his head.

"Killing them and keeping their territory are different things."

Enigma raised a brow.

"We’ve already offended the God of War," Simon said. "Now imagine us occupying the land he failed to protect after he failed to kill us."

He rested an arm against his chair.

"That would give him a reason to return beyond wanting revenge. Leaving us there would make his defeat something every human could point at."

"You expect the gods to come over that?"

"I wouldn’t be surprised if Demi-Gods came. Or more gods descended through their chosen. We would be giving them a place where they knew they could find us."

His expression remained calm.

"Then our new territory might become the place where both of us die."

"Unlikely," Enigma said.

"Yes. But possible."

Simon met his gaze.

"I don’t want that land enough to take the risk."

Enigma considered him, then gave a small shrug.

"A piece of land sounds less attractive when you put it that way."

His eyes shifted toward the torn entrance.

"There is still that rift, however. It’s a temporary rift, but judging by its condition, it could take months to close completely."

Simon hummed softly.

"Hmm."

"It is wide enough to pass an army. This isn’t one of those little cracks a demon can barely squeeze through."

Simon understood his concern.

An opening of that size was a route into the Demon Realm for anyone strong enough to use it. A Demi-God, or another god occupying a chosen’s body, could follow him through it.

The God of War had already demonstrated that.

Although the rift had its limits on the power level of individuals that could pass through it, a talented god like the God of War could ignore that limit using his powers.

A talented Demi-God could too.

Simon looked down at his hands.

Could he close it?

His spatial affinity had changed considerably. But teleporting himself and sealing a passage between worlds were hardly the same task.

’Still, I should at least try.’

"I’ll try to close it."

Enigma stared at him with wide eyes.

"Close a rift that size?"

"Yes."

Simon stood.

Before Enigma could say anything else, space folded around him.

The Daemon’s lips twitched.

"A little warning before you leave would be appreciated."

He vanished too.

Simon hovered before the rift, high above the ruined ground.

Up close, the opening filled his view. Crimson light trembled around its dark interior, and silver blue sparks scattered from its uneven edges.

Enigma appeared beside him.

His expression grew solemn as he examined it.

"Are you sure?"

Simon nodded without explaining.

Then he closed his eyes and extended both hands.

His perception reached into the surrounding space.

Before his evolution, he would have sensed little beyond violent disturbances and the danger of approaching them carelessly. Now he could distinguish the boundary of the opening from the twisted passage within it.

His spatial affinity was much higher.

How high, he did not know.

’At least A grade.’

And for once, even that estimate felt cautious.

The rift was an injury between Earth and the Demon Realm. Two places that should have been separate had been forced into contact through a torn boundary.

He needed to restore that separation.

Simon spread his demonic energy along the edges and pulled.

Nothing moved.

His heart beat harder. He increased the power, gathering his Will and the Seed of Pride around the places where space resisted him most.

The left edge shifted.

Barely.

Then it sprang outward.

Pain struck behind his eyes. His arms jerked apart, and a fresh line of silver sparks ripped down the rift.

Enigma moved farther aside.

Simon tasted blood.

’Not like that then.’

He had pressed the opening narrower without easing the distortion trapped inside it. The pressure had simply pushed back.

He steadied his breathing and tried again.

This time, he held the surrounding space still while carefully drawing one small section of the upper edge inward.

The dark surface wrinkled.

Beyond the rim, ordinary air appeared where there had been a passage.

Simon held that small gain.

Then he worked on the section beside it.

His eyes opened.

Below, Akaza stopped beside a corpse.

"What is he doing?"

Virella looked up. An artifact slipped slightly in her hand, and she caught it without lowering her wide-eyed gaze.

"The rift is shrinking," Ammor said, staring with his mouth open.

Sonya had already turned toward Simon. She could feel his demonic energy surging above them, and the pressure rolling through the camp made her brow tighten.

Around them, surviving demons abandoned their search through the wreckage.

The enormous opening had begun shrinking.

Slowly, unevenly, its upper edge descended. The sides bent inward while crimson light gathered along the narrowing rim.

Simon’s shoulders trembled.

Each section he closed changed the pressure upon the rest. Whenever he concentrated too heavily on one side, another threatened to tear open again.

He could not simply pour more energy into it.

He had to keep adjusting.

A minute passed.

Then another.

Sweat ran down his face. His demonic energy was draining far faster than he could recover it without using Devour, and the ache behind his eyes had become a steady, piercing pain.

But the rift continued to narrow.

On Earth, a wounded demon looked up as the demonic energy around him suddenly thinned.

The rift’s edge had moved.

He stared.

Then he began running.

"It’s closing!"

Heads turned across the battlefield.

"Impossible!"

"Look at it!"

The distant view of the Demon Realm warped. A section of the ruined camp stretched sideways, then vanished behind the advancing edge.

Pavel’s floating lenses turned rapidly.

Mara stared at the opening.

"Wasn’t it supposed to remain open much longer?"

"It was," Pavel said.

Ilona looked between them.

"Then why is this happening?"

No one answered.

Mara thought of the demon who had just left.

’Could it be him?’

She had seen what he could do in battle. Could he do this as well?

She had no way of knowing.

A shout pulled her attention downward.

Demons were running.

Some left their weapons and abandoned supplies behind. Some carried wounded comrades. Others pushed past anyone who stumbled.

Without the rift, the supply of demonic energy would be cut off. Earth’s Aether would not replenish them. Wounded, surrounded, and unable to recover their strength properly, those left behind would eventually be hunted down.

They knew it.

A fleeing demon slipped near a shattered cannon. Three others jumped over him before he dragged himself upright.

Mara’s fingers tightened.

Their backs were exposed.

One order, and the surviving cannons could turn that retreat into a slaughter.

Tomas strained beside her. She forced his arm down again.

"No."

Dorian glanced toward the fleeing demons.

"Let them go," Mara ordered.

She wanted them dead.

But her soldiers were wounded, her healers exhausted, and she still had to keep Tomas from doing something that would get them all killed.

She would not turn a retreat into another battle. Not while she suspected Blackmoon might be watching from the other side.

Demons poured into the ruined camp.

They stumbled from the rift and kept running, terrified that stopping near it would mean being dragged back.

Above them, Simon’s fingers shook.

The opening was less than half its former width.

Its upper and lower edges drew closer while the sides trembled against his control. The camp beyond him appeared doubled wherever the distortion passed.

Blood trickled from his nose.

He tried to slow the contraction.

The pressure nearly tore his hold apart.

’Too much has already closed.’

The distortion sustaining the remaining passage had begun to fail. He could guide the edges together, but holding them open now demanded power he could not spare.

"Move away from the edges!" someone shouted below.

Demons collided in their haste.

Simon clenched his jaw and forced another section shut.

The rift narrowed to the width of a wagon.

Then less.

His vision blurred. He felt one side slipping and caught it with a desperate surge of demonic energy.

A demon forced his shoulders through the remaining gap.

Another threw himself after him.

"Wait! Wait, wait! I’m almost through!"

Simon dragged his trembling hands inward.

The last strip of darkness closed.

Snap!

This!

One demon fell into the camp screaming, an arm left on the other side.

The other had only made it halfway through.

His upper body struck the ground beneath the place where the rift had been.

His legs never followed.