Wind pressed Simon's bloodstained clothes against a body that was no longer wounded.
His Demon Heart beat steadily. Demonic energy surged through his repaired pathways, and every breath entered his lungs without pain. He had returned to his peak condition. There was even more strength in his limbs than before.
The reason was the burning severed forearm of the God of War.
He had devoured it.
The gust of wind had never been meant to throw the God of War away. Simon had needed the god and the five humans to focus on the dust instead of what moved beneath it.
While they watched the disturbance, a narrow current carried the burning limb low across the road. Simon drew it against his body, concealing it beneath his bent torso and the black wrappings.
Then he used Devour.
It had been a gamble on attention, not an ability to blind a god. The God of War had watched his blood, heard his coughing, and decided he understood what Simon was doing.
