The breakfast plates disappeared with the efficiency of well-trained staff. My father checked his ornate pocket watch, the silver chain glinting in the purple light filtering through the stained-glass windows.
"I must depart for the capital," he announced, rising from his chair. "The Pillar Council meeting cannot proceed without House Valac's perspective on the boundary disputes."
"Of course not," I said, keeping my face neutral. "Someone has to be the voice of reason."
My father's eyes narrowed slightly, searching for sarcasm, but I maintained my innocent expression. After a moment, he nodded and turned to my mother.
"I'll return by evening."
My mother rose gracefully. "We'll be here." She placed a delicate hand on my shoulder. "Dante and I have matters to discuss regarding his education."
I glanced up at her. "We do?"
"Indeed." The faintest curve touched her lips. "Your void experience has clearly... expanded your perspective. It's time we expanded your magical repertoire as well."
My father looked between us, something unreadable passing across his features. "An excellent idea. The boy has been neglecting formal training."
"Not neglecting," I corrected, leaning back in my chair. "Approaching differently."
"Results matter more than methods," my father said, straightening his already immaculate jacket. "Though proper form builds proper foundation."
He strode toward the door, his movements economical and precise. At the threshold, he paused. "Dante."
"Father?"
"Your initiative this morning was... unexpected. But not unwelcome." With that cryptic assessment, he vanished into the hallway, his shadow lingering a moment longer than he did.
I turned to my mother, who watched me with those knowing amethyst eyes. "So, magical education?"
"Indeed." She turned to Ariel, who had remained silent and motionless throughout breakfast. "You'll join us as well."
Ariel bowed deeply. "My lady, I'm not certain I should—"
"Nonsense. Your elemental affinity complements today's lesson perfectly." Mother gestured for us to follow. "The eastern courtyard. Twenty minutes."
She glided from the room, leaving no room for argument.
I turned to Ariel, raising an eyebrow. "Complementary affinity?"
"Fire and wind," she said quietly, her eyes downcast. "Lady Selene rarely includes servants in family training."
"You're not just a servant." I stood, pushing my chair back. "And Mother knows it."
Ariel's crimson eyes flashed up to meet mine. "Young Master, we shouldn't—"
"Speak freely? Question tradition? Think for ourselves?" I reached out, almost touching her arm before stopping myself. "Three days in the void changes your perspective on what matters, Ariel."
Her expression softened momentarily. "And what matters to you now, Dante?"
I smiled. "Power. But not the kind my father chases."
===
The eastern courtyard lay behind the main house, nestled between the library wing and what had once been servants' quarters but now housed an array of mystical laboratories. Unlike the manicured gardens elsewhere on the estate, this space was deliberately stark—black stone pavers arranged in concentric circles, training dummies positioned at strategic intervals, and not a decorative plant in sight.
My mother waited at the center, now dressed in a simple dark purple training outfit that resembled something between robes and athletic wear. Beside her stood a small table bearing three crystal goblets filled with water so clear it seemed to glow.
"Punctual. Good." She nodded as we approached. "Ariel, there's training attire for you in the antechamber."
Ariel bowed and slipped away through a side door. I was already dressed appropriately, having changed after breakfast into the clothes laid out in my room—black training pants and a sleeveless purple shirt that bore the Valac crest over the heart.
"You expected this," I observed.
"A mother knows her son." She gestured to the space beside her. "Even when he returns... different."
I stiffened slightly. "Different?"
Her eyes—so like my own—studied me. "The void changes everyone who experiences it. Some more than others."
I relaxed marginally. She suspected something, but not the truth.
"So what's today's lesson? More shadow manipulation? Void sight practice?"
"Neither." She traced a finger along the rim of one crystal goblet. "Today we focus on fundamentals. Elemental magic."
I frowned. "Isn't that a bit... basic?"
"Basics become brilliance with proper application." She looked up as Ariel returned, now dressed in similar training attire, though hers bore no family crest. "The problem with young devils today is their reliance on inherited power without understanding its foundations."
Ariel took position opposite me, completing our triangle around the table.
"Take Rias Gremory," my mother continued. "Immense power of destruction, yet little finesse in its application. Or Riser Phenex—regeneration so powerful he's never bothered to learn proper defensive techniques."
"They coast on talent," I said, understanding.
"Precisely." She lifted one goblet. "What makes you different, Dante, is not just your genius, but your willingness to work. To refine. To perfect."
I nodded, oddly pleased by the assessment. "So, water manipulation?"
"Begin with what flows, then what burns, then what moves unseen." She placed a goblet before each of us. "Focus."
I stared into the crystal goblet, reaching for my demonic power. It responded instantly—a rush of dark energy that felt both familiar and strange. Dante's power, yet mine to command.
A magic circle formed above my palm, glowing purple with the Valac crest at its center. I directed it toward the water, visualizing movement.
The liquid rose obediently, forming a perfect sphere that hovered above the goblet.
"Good," my mother said. "Basic control is adequate."
Beside me, Ariel's water sphere wobbled slightly, her concentration evident in the tightness around her eyes.
"Now, complexity. Form and pattern."
I focused harder, and the water sphere elongated, twisted, forming a helix that rotated slowly.
My mother nodded approvingly. "Excellent precision."
I watched as she demonstrated, her water transforming into an intricate latticework of interconnected droplets that hung in the air like a crystalline sculpture.
"Show-off," I muttered.
The corner of her mouth twitched. "Experience has its advantages."
After twenty minutes of increasingly complex water manipulations, she moved us to fire exercises. Here, Ariel's natural affinity showed—her flames burned brighter, moved faster, and formed more complex patterns than mine.
"Impressive control," my mother told her. "Your natural talent serves you well."
Ariel ducked her head, unused to direct praise. "Thank you, my lady."
"Now, wind." My mother demonstrated by creating a small whirlwind above her palm, no magic circle visible. "The element of movement and change."
I formed my circle again, concentrating on air currents. A small breeze spiraled upward, nowhere near as controlled as my mother's demonstration.
"It's the least tangible element," my mother explained. "Therefore the most difficult to visualize and control."
As we practiced, a question that had been forming in my mind since breakfast finally crystallized.
"Mother," I said, dispersing my mediocre whirlwind, "why do we always use magic circles?"
She paused, her own air current dissipating. "Explain your question."
"Well..." I gestured toward the fading purple circle above my palm. "Devils can use magic limited only by imagination, right? But we always channel it through circles. What about other methods? Verbal enchantments? Hand signs?"
Her eyes narrowed with interest. "An unusual question. Where did this come from?"
I shrugged, trying to appear casual. "Just thinking. If I visualized a fire bolt, could I create one without the circle? Just... direct manifestation?"
"Most devils would say no," she replied carefully. "The circle serves as focus, structure, and limitation. Without it, power becomes... unpredictable."
"But not impossible?"
She studied me for a long moment. "Nothing is impossible with sufficient understanding and control." She glanced at Ariel. "Show him."
Ariel nodded, extending her hand. Her eyes narrowed in concentration, and a small flame appeared above her palm—without a magic circle.
"Elemental affinity makes direct manifestation easier," my mother explained. "But it's significantly weaker without the focusing properties of a circle."
I stared at the flame dancing above Ariel's palm. It was indeed small—perhaps a quarter the size she'd produced earlier with a circle.
"Can I try?"
"Of course." My mother stepped back. "Focus on the simplest manifestation first."
I closed my eyes, thinking. In my previous life as Elijah, I'd been obsessed with anime and manga—particularly series that featured creative power systems. Naruto's hand signs. Jujutsu Kaisen's cursed techniques. If magic here was limited only by imagination...
I opened my eyes, extending my hand toward one of the training dummies. I visualized fire, concentrated on heat and combustion, and... nothing happened.
"Focus," my mother instructed. "Intent without structure dissipates."
I tried again, this time picturing a bolt of fire streaking from my palm to the target. Still nothing.
"Shit," I muttered.
"Language," my mother chided automatically.
I thought back to Jujutsu Kaisen—how Sukuna could slice objects apart with just a gesture. The mechanics weren't clear in the series, but it seemed similar to a wind cutter. Worth a try.
I extended two fingers toward another training dummy, focusing on a cutting force, a blade of air. Nothing.
"You're overthinking," my mother said. "Simplify."
I tried again. And again. Each attempt brought nothing but frustration and the beginnings of a headache.
"Perhaps start with something more aligned to your natural abilities," my mother suggested. "Shadow is your affinity."
"No." I shook my head stubbornly. "That's the easy way out. I want to understand the fundamentals."
I stared at the dummy, my frustration mounting. In the anime, there were always verbal components too—words of power to focus intent.
"Sever," I muttered, pointing two fingers at the dummy like Sukuna's gesture.
A thin, nearly invisible blade of air shot from my fingers, slicing a deep cut across the dummy's chest.
My mother's eyes widened. "Interesting."
Emboldened, I turned to another target. I snapped my fingers, focusing on heat and light. "Firebolt."
A flame erupted from my fingertips, shooting forward to scorch the dummy's shoulder.
"Holy shit," I breathed. "It worked."
"Language," my mother said, but her voice held wonder rather than reprimand. "How did you...?"
"The verbal component focuses intent," I explained, excitement building. "The gesture directs it. Together, they replace the structural function of the circle."
I demonstrated again, pointing at another dummy. "Sever." The air blade cut it in half like butter this time.
My mother circled me slowly, her expression calculating. "This is... unconventional."
"But effective," I countered.
"Inefficient," she corrected. "The power output is perhaps twenty percent of what you achieve with a circle. But the application..." She trailed off, thinking.
Ariel stepped forward hesitantly. "May I try, my lady?"
At my mother's nod, Ariel pointed toward a dummy. "Blaze," she whispered.
A small jet of flame—larger than what I'd produced—shot from her fingertip, setting the dummy's hair smoldering.
"Your affinity enhances the effect," my mother noted. "Fascinating."
She turned back to me. "Where did you learn this approach? It's not in any texts I know."
I shrugged, careful not to reveal too much. "Just an idea. If magic responds to imagination, why limit ourselves to one method?"
My mother's calculating expression slowly transformed into something like pride. "This could be valuable. A Valac secret."
"Secret?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Think strategically, Dante." She gestured to the damaged dummies. "What advantage does a spell without a circle provide?"
I understood immediately. "Surprise. No warning flare from circle formation. No telegraphing the attack."
"Precisely." She nodded approvingly. "In combat, that split-second advantage can mean everything."
"The power reduction is significant though," Ariel observed.
"For now," I said, already thinking of ways to improve the efficiency. "With practice..."
"Yes." My mother's eyes gleamed. "With practice, refinement, experimentation." She placed a hand on my shoulder. "This is exactly the kind of innovation House Valac needs. Not just power—but new applications of power."
I grinned, genuine excitement flowing through me. "So we keep this between us?"
"For now." She glanced at Ariel. "Just the three of us, until we've developed it further."
Ariel bowed. "Of course, my lady."
My mother regarded me with new interest. "Three days in the void, and you return with revolutionary ideas. Perhaps we should have exposed you to it sooner."
I laughed, the sound echoing across the courtyard. "Trust me, once was enough."