The Broken Halo

Chapter 971 - 970: Earth

In the centuries since the first demonic invasions, Earth’s borders had changed many times.

Countries had lost provinces, joined their neighbours, or disappeared altogether. Some of the kingdoms that now occupied entire stretches of a continent had begun as little more than fortified cities sheltering people who had nowhere else to go.

Some of the old geographical names survived more easily. Europe, Asia, Africa, and Antarctica remained familiar enough. Finding an old country on a modern map was another matter.

Aether had changed what made a territory valuable. A quiet valley could become the centre of a dispute after rich deposits were discovered beneath it. A forest that once supplied timber might become too dangerous to enter without Hunters. Towns grew around training grounds, mines, and places where the energy was unusually abundant.

Rifts complicated everything.

A wealthy province could spend years attracting merchants and building roads, only to lose most of its population during an invasion. The survivors often settled behind the barriers of a larger city. Those who returned needed help rebuilding, and the kingdom that provided soldiers and supplies usually expected something in exchange.

Over time, such arrangements had produced a crowded political map.

Humanity shared an enemy, but its rulers rarely agreed on much beyond that. They argued over land, trade routes, resources, and who should pay to defend a border that several territories depended upon.

Life continued amid those arguments.

Trains ran along elevated tracks between glass towers and buildings reinforced with Aether-treated metal. Above them, satellites relayed communications and watched for disturbances that might signal another rift.

In hospitals, surgeons worked beside Healers. Runemasters maintained the formations protecting power stations, bridges, and schools. A damaged barrier tower could close an entire district until repairs were finished, much to the irritation of residents who had already paid their defence taxes.

People went to work, raised children, complained about prices, and applied for places in academies they could barely afford.

How much of that life was possible depended on where they lived. A village near an active rift or battlefield could not expect the protection enjoyed by a capital. Sometimes its warning system amounted to a bell and a messenger from the next settlement.

Europe had several major powers capable of offering considerably more.

In the north, the Northern Crowns Alliance united kingdoms whose cities were separated by cold forests, mountain roads, and long stretches of dangerous wilderness. They shared patrols and maintained supply routes that would have been difficult for any member to protect alone. Their Hunters were frequently hired abroad, particularly when a beast had made an important road unusable.

The Western Republics occupied much of the continent’s industrial west. Their factories supplied weapons, aircraft, and formation equipment to clients well beyond their own borders. Some cities depended as much on contracts from foreign armies as on trade with neighbouring republics.

To the east lay the Eastern States, a broad region of independent states, allied territories, and fortified districts. The Carpathian Front defended part of that region, drawing soldiers and supplies from the communities behind it.

Cooperation there could be painfully slow. The Central Defence Council might request aid, but governments also had their own rifts to watch. Sending a powerful fighter elsewhere meant accepting a risk at home.

Farther south, several wealthy powers competed over fertile land, mountain resources, and access to the Mediterranean.

Among the greatest was the Holy Kingdom of Aurelia.

Its influence extended across much of southern and south-central Europe. Pilgrims travelled to its temples from other continents, while its armies and extensive network of healers made it an ally that few neighbours could afford to dismiss.

Aurelia, however, did not rule the entire south.

Along its eastern side stood the Kingdom of Arden. Its territory included upland farming districts and mineral-rich mountains, with fortresses guarding the passes between them. Arden’s military families maintained their own training grounds, and the royal army regularly bought promising young fighters out of contracts with smaller organisations.

The practice annoyed those organisations. Few refused the money.

To Aurelia’s west, the Republic of Vesta had grown wealthy through manufacturing. Its cities produced Aether engines, reinforced armour, and the components used in large defensive formations. A damaged cannon from a distant battlefield could pass through three different Vestan workshops before being returned to service.

The republic equipped its own border garrisons generously. Its factories could keep them supplied through a long war, something its neighbours took into account whenever a dispute grew heated.

Along the southern coast, the Free Ports League linked several independent cities and nearby islands. Each member governed itself, but they shared a fleet and agreements protecting their sea routes.

Their harbours handled cargo from Africa, western Asia, and the Atlantic. They charged for storage, repairs, escorts, and almost anything else a visiting merchant might need. Their ships carried troops as readily as grain, provided the payment and destination were agreed upon beforehand.

Between these powers stood smaller kingdoms, trading cities, private military companies, and guilds wealthy enough to employ their own Demon Slayers.

Their interests frequently overlapped. An Aurelia-funded expedition might carry weapons made in Vesta, hire Hunters from Arden, and sail aboard a League vessel. Disputes could involve all four before the expedition even reached its destination.

Aurelia’s faith gave it another source of influence.

The kingdom worshipped the God of Light, and the Church of Light owned land, maintained schools and hospitals, and trained soldiers throughout the realm. Its clergy advised the royal court. Its temples received petitions from villagers, merchants, and nobles, often concerning matters that had little to do with prayer.

A town seeking a healer could be competing for attention with a commander requesting reinforcements. The Church had to decide where its people and resources would be sent.

White-and-gold uniforms were familiar across Aurelia. They appeared at city gates, along military roads, and among the guards escorting important members of the clergy. Their horned cavalry drew admiration from visitors, though armoured vehicles also carried the kingdom’s forces wherever they were needed.

The capital showed how much wealth had gathered under that protection.

Broad avenues ran between government offices, temple grounds, and crowded shopping districts. Trains passed above the lower streets. On clear days, passengers could see the tops of the barrier towers beyond the buildings, their formation lines faint against the sky.

Cathedrals occupied some of the oldest parts of the city. Hospitals and newer residential blocks had grown around them, with shops filling whatever space remained. Bells could be heard above the traffic at certain hours, although people hurrying to work seldom stopped for every one.

In a guest residence overlooking one of those streets, Rowan Grey stood beside an open window.

The room behind him was larger than any bedroom he had known in Miresti. A thick rug covered most of the floor, and the bed had clean white sheets tucked so neatly that he had hesitated before sitting on it. Two cushioned chairs faced a low table beside the fireplace. Someone had left fresh clothes in the wardrobe and brought food on a covered tray.

He had eaten a little. The rest remained untouched.

Outside, a delivery driver was arguing with a shopkeeper over a stack of crates. People went around them without much interest. Farther along the pavement, a woman pulled a small child away from a stall selling sweets.

Rowan followed them until they disappeared into the crowd.

He had helped bury his parents before leaving the Carpathian region. He remembered the graves clearly. Remembered knowing there was nothing left to wait for, then finding it difficult to walk away anyway.

Now he had a warm room, clean clothes, and more food than he wanted. He had thanked everyone who brought him something. When they left, he returned to the window.

A train passed overhead. Its windows flashed in the sunlight, briefly hiding the buildings beyond it.

He wondered where all those people were going.

Someone knocked.

”Rowan? It’s Celeste. I’m coming in.”

He turned from the window as the handle moved.

The door opened, and Saintess Celeste entered.