Chapter 894 - 893: A Faster Recovery

Blood had reached the foot of the bed.

Three guards lay near the door, their open eyes fixed on nothing. Tarvak’s severed arms rested among their bodies. Red streaks ran down the wall, and the room’s warm air had become thick with the smell of blood.

Tarvak groaned as he dragged one knee beneath himself.

His remaining upper arms twitched, still trying to make hands answer that were no longer attached. He clenched his teeth and leaned against the door, forcing his body upward.

Simon lifted his palm.

A gust of wind struck Tarvak across the chest.

BANG!

He flew past the bed and hit the opposite wall. Plaster cracked behind his shoulders, and he dropped onto his side, coughing blood onto the floor.

"Stay still," Simon said. "And stop disturbing me."

Tarvak raised his head. Simon remained cross-legged beside the Chaos Blade, looking at him as though he had interrupted something tedious.

"You killed them..."

His voice shook before anger steadied it.

"You killed my guards and cut off my arms. For what?"

Simon adjusted his right hand against his knee.

"And what the fuck did you mean by a living vessel?" Tarvak demanded. "What impurities? What are you planning to do to me?"

"You don’t need to know."

"You expect me to-"

"I was in the mood to talk when you arrived." Simon looked at him. "I’m not anymore."

Tarvak stared.

Then his face twisted.

"You insane bastard! You think you can do this in Velmora and-"

Simon closed his eyes.

The curses continued. He listened without responding, directing his demonic energy through the tender pathways beneath his shoulders.

UnholyRegeneration drew torn muscle together. He let the repaired sections settle before increasing the flow.

Closing his eyes did not leave Tarvak unwatched.

ShadowSense followed the commander’s presence against the wall. The wind carried his ragged breathing, the scrape of his boots, and every little movement he made while trying to find a position that hurt less.

Simon knew when he stopped cursing.

He also knew when the commander began staring at the door.

[So you have finally decided to evolve your bloodline.]

Lilith sounded amused.

[Yes.]

Simon guided another current of demonic energy through his wrist. His fingers loosened slightly.

[The living vessel doesn’t need both arms, does he?]

Lilith laughed.

[You’re asking me that after cutting them off?]

[If he needs them, I’ll kill him and find another.]

Across the room, Tarvak shifted against the wall, unaware of the conversation deciding whether he would remain alive.

[He does not need all his limbs,] Lilith replied. [Provided he remains alive and capable of receiving what the ritual sends into him, he will serve.]

[Good.]

[Not for him.]

Something in her tone made Simon pause.

[That guard commander will suffer a fate worse than death. If he could see what awaits him, he would spend his remaining strength killing himself rather than trying to escape this room.]

Simon opened his eyes.

Tarvak was watching him. Their gazes met, and the commander stiffened.

[What exactly happens to the vessel?]

[Wait and see.]

Simon frowned.

Lilith had explained the vessel’s purpose. Absorbing the impurities expelled from his bloodline was unlikely to be pleasant, but her words suggested more than pain.

[You could explain it now.]

[You should concern yourself with your own body first. Expelling that lowly god’s energy is not going to be easy at all.]

Her amusement faded.

[Make certain it is ready before beginning. This will be the most dangerous thing you have ever done.]

Simon became still.

[More dangerous than what happened with Sunless and the God of War?]

[You call him the God of War when- that doesn’t matter right now, but yes, it would be more dangerous.]

Simon narrowed his eyes.

[The God of War nearly cut through my heart. I was dying.]

[I know. The ritual will be more dangerous.]

For a moment, Simon forgot the ache in his wrist.

She had warned him about the pain before. He had accepted that. But this was a different warning.

[Why? What’s different this time around?]

Lilith said nothing.

[Is it because I became an Archfiend before evolving? Or because of the bloodline itself?]

Silence.

[Lilith.]

Tarvak’s breathing scraped through the room.

[You can’t tell me that and then refuse to explain.]

No answer came.

Simon exhaled slowly.

’What the fuck is going to happen to me?’

Fearless kept his mind calm and clear, but it did not make Lilith’s silence any less irritating.

He looked down at his hand, slowly curled the fingers, then released them.

Whatever the answer, starting with a body already falling apart would only make it worse.

He was about to close his eyes again when footsteps reached the passage outside.

Several sets.

A door opened farther along the corridor.

"Did that come from here?"

"I heard the commander."

Tarvak lifted his head.

Simon felt the change in his breathing before the hope appeared on his face.

Of course they had heard.

Three guards falling, Tarvak’s roar, the screams when his arms came off, and now a body hitting the wall. Nothing about this room had been quiet.

Simon sighed.

He placed one foot beneath himself and stood. His knee held. A pull travelled through his shoulders, but it no longer threatened to put him back on the floor.

He turned his neck until a faint crack sounded, then rolled his shoulders carefully.

Tarvak watched every movement.

"Stay where you are," Simon told him.

The commander pressed farther against the wall.

Simon glanced at the three corpses. Their hearts remained intact. He would need those.

Then his gaze moved toward the approaching presences beyond the door.

"I intend to destroy Velmora," he murmured. "Why am I still healing as though I have to leave its people alive?"

Tarvak’s eyes widened.

"What?"

Simon did not repeat himself.

The first demon stopped outside.

A Supreme Archfiend.

"Commander Tarvak? Is everything-"

Wind lifted the latch and pulled the door inward.

The demon on the other side had a tail and a sword hanging at his waist. His eyes fell upon the three bodies.

Before he could step back, a current of wind seized him around the torso.

His boots left the floor.

He struck Simon’s waiting hand throat-first.

The demon grabbed his wrist. Demonic energy flared beneath his clothing, but Simon’s fingers tightened before he could bring it under control.

Devour

His scream collapsed into a dry rasp.

The flesh beneath Simon’s hand shrank. Full cheeks hollowed, his lips pulled back from his teeth, and wrinkles spread down his face as though decades were passing beneath the skin.

His hands clawed once at the black wrappings.

Then their grip weakened.

Power flowed into Simon.

The demon’s clothes sagged around a body that no longer filled them. His eyes sank into their sockets, and the last movement in his chest stopped.

Simon released him.

The mummified corpse struck the floor with a light, brittle sound.

Behind him, Tarvak had stopped breathing for a moment.

He stared at what had been a living demon only seconds earlier. Then he looked at Simon’s hand.

The fingers were moving more easily.

Simon directed the stolen energy through the sections his body could now withstand, feeding UnholyRegeneration without forcing everything through one damaged route.

Warmth spread beneath his ribs. The wound in his thigh tightened, and flesh began joining faster beneath the overlapping wraps.

He drew a breath.

It still hurt, but less.

At the doorway, the remaining demons stood frozen. One had drawn half his sword. Another looked from the dried corpse to the blood covering Tarvak.

Simon lifted his eyes toward them.

His tongue passed across his lower lip, clearing the last trace of blood.

"Come in," he said softly. "I want to see how many of you it takes to heal me."