Simon had found the crimson book beneath Blackwind Valley during the Shadowgrave Clan's trials. It had rested inside Hell's Sword Daemon's spatial ring, alongside the mask, the black book about the chaos plane, the Chaos Wraps, and the Chaos Blade.
He had spent six minutes skimming it and thought he understood what he had gained. Months later, he learned how arrogant that had been.
He had even planned to combine his previous life's sword techniques with the art, disguising its origins. Yet understanding where a blade moved was not the same as understanding why the movement worked. He could not properly perform the original. How was he supposed to improve it?
The concepts were difficult enough. His body was the greater problem.
Hell's Sword Daemon had created the art for a full-blooded Daemon. The constitution of that race could endure forces that would destroy an ordinary demon from within. Simon was only a half-Daemon.
