(Diodora POV)
Demonic power was interesting, to say the least. It ebbed and flowed like a rampaging river that never seemed to want to slow down—just wanting to keep going on forever and ever until it reaches its destination.
In my bare-bones understanding, demonic power can be used in a variety of ways—the creation of various phenomena along with other aspects. Family crests act as conduits for demonic energy. They help to focus the power to avoid leaking out too much.
Each crest is like a program, with the families themselves having the password. You could copy the design, but it wouldn't be the true crest. To most, it just seems like an aesthetic choice, but for pure-blooded devils, identity was everything.
Summoning my demonic power, I felt a drain on my reserves again as I attempted to focus the power to condense it down into a more powerful form without losing the excess energy. To be honest, my current style of using demonic power reminds me of that one character from JJK who purely used his cursed energy as a means of attack—no fancy technique, just pure cursed energy blasts.
It didn't disintegrate—now it was pure force. I feel as if I could change the very texture of the energy, which could affect how the energy interacts with the environment. However, changing the texture of my own demonic power was like trying to change a painting when it's already finished. The energy doesn't seemingly want to work. It doesn't want to change.
As I summon a large ball of energy above me, the energy crackles out like lightning. As it gains size, I could feel my reserves draining quickly, which was good. The more I expended, the stronger I could become, and realizing that I was about to lose control of the construct, I threw it into the distance, causing an explosion that would be about the size of an average city block.
Honestly, it was a bit pathetic. High-class Devils are able to destroy entire mountains—not even mentioning the various gods that change entire maps just by having basic spars.
Yet with every single usage of my demonic power, I felt it become more usable… more controlled. However, the comparison was like putting drops into an empty sink. The process, while apparent, was slow—too slow.
It had been three days since I had awoken in this body, and my schedule mostly amounted to me eating my regularly scheduled meals and practicing in both physical and magical arts. No one has come to check on me—at least no one that I could see.
They may just simply be observing through some type of other method, or they are simply existing beyond my range of senses. I have been attempting to create a type of magic sense; however, it mostly involves me spreading out my demonic power throughout my surroundings like a dome.
When I was not practicing, I tried to glean any knowledge from the library that was in the estate; however, it was woefully lacking. Most of the books only showed the basic history of the underworld as well as the various pillar families. It was in those books that I saw what my clan trait was supposed to be.
It was essentially a bootleg version of parallel thought processing and mental acceleration. A combination of both allowed the average Astaroth devil to create 10 spells while a normal mage could barely create one. Not to mention the fact that they could use it to only create more efficient usage for their demonic power. It also helped them create more effective strategies in the field.
I assume that my older brother used this to the highest degree, which resulted in his patented Kankara Formula. There is barely any knowledge about it other than the fact that he essentially uses this formula to affect and learn various phenomena. If you were, for example, to use a spell in front of him using the formula, he could not only dismantle the entire spell just by seeing it—he could learn how to use it better while also disabling the spell for the attacker.
In all honesty, I was impressed. He took the basic clan trait and made it into something entirely new. Sitting down against a nearby rock face littered with holes from my various tests with my demonic power, I took a breath and looked towards the green sky. It was pretty easy to tell what time it was, as there were artificially created astral bodies. I know they aren't a real sun and moon, but they got decently close.
From any records I could read, the underworld used to have this, as it was simply just a perpetually ugly purple sky. But I assume they did it in order to appease the reincarnated devils—or to at least bring some familiarity to an entirely new dimension.
I reached my hand towards the shining sun. I feel as if I could just grasp it in my hand. But my delusion is shattered once I remind myself that if I even got close, I would most likely melt or simply disintegrate.
Dusting myself off, I stood back up and began my physical regime, and as I did so, I spread my demonic power throughout my body. As I did so, I felt the weight increase.
While the library didn't have much in terms of magical knowledge, it did have a basic book pertaining to demonic runes. The script itself was bare bones. You could only really achieve temporary effects unless you had a consistent power source. In this case, I used my own demonic power to inscribe the lettering on my body as a type of weight.
The more power I pumped into the weights, the heavier they became—so I was both physically and magically training myself. And so I did the daily grind, which included push-ups, sit-ups, miles upon miles of running, in addition to a self-created pulley system that led to me hooking rocks up to it.
Grabbing the basic leather handles, I pulled with all of my might, and the boulders I was pulling up were slowly ascending. I could feel my muscles straining under the weight of both the physical exertion and the increase in my own mass.
I could feel the sweat on my brow, and after a couple of hours of this, I collapsed to the ground, barely able to keep myself conscious. And so I laid there on the ground, taking deep breaths, allowing my demonic power to recover—but making sure that I had enough to keep the weight on my body.
And while I couldn't truly understand why, I found myself smiling… anyone who looked at it would probably be freaked out. But just being out here like this—being so active and healthy—was something I never thought I would know.
I had nightmares about all of this simply being a dream, and I'm simply just experiencing the hallucinations of a dying brain. But when I woke up and felt the blood coursing through my veins, the cold air of the underworld brushing across my skin—I reminded myself that I was still alive.
I wondered if any time had passed since my passing, but those thoughts were quickly removed, as that was then—this is now. Those people didn't matter anymore.
With that thought in mind, I slowly and shakily stood back up. And while I was tempted to simply teleport back into the manor, I remembered that I needed physical exercise. The devil's body isn't just strong in terms of their magic. They have the innate ability to develop much more than normal humans.
Not to mention the fact that I have been experimenting with the apparent ability to shapeshift—but it's a lot less drastic than most would assume. It's a lot more passive than direct. Basic changes to a devil's physiology may take years or months to actually take notice of.
I had been attempting to see if I could change my wings, as to be honest, the wings of the devils in the universe are just not very intimidating. They looked like sticks—charred sticks—but sticks nonetheless.
And while I do feel a bit of uncomfortability in my back every time I pull out my wings, they don't seem too different. But given the fact that it's only been a few days, the changes may take years to actually develop. And given the fact that I was still 10 years old, I didn't want to cripple my own physical development just yet—that is, if like humans, that is still possible.
As I opened the front door and closed it behind me, I walked towards my personal restroom, and after dismissing the clothes I had on, I took a quick shower. The silence was truly deafening sometimes.
But I will take this self-obtained privacy, even if it means giving up luxuries like I assume my fellow peers were enjoying. I still had two years before I could gain my Evil Pieces, and to be honest, I wasn't even sure if I wanted to use them on anyone.
Even while watching the two seasons of High School DxD, even I could tell that this whole Evil Piece system is just a new type of feudalism or even a pyramid scheme. Not to mention the elephant in the room that is the Waifu App.
I had taken the time to peruse through the various functions, and to say I was impressed was an understatement. For only 20 points, I could gain access to the basic abilities of nearly any character throughout fiction—other than the truly overpowered ones.
But while the allure of extra abilities was strong, I mostly focused on the defenses I would be willing to pay for. While I did start with some—that being an immunity to precognition as well as poisons and a basic form of environmental immunity—there was more to gain.
I had been given a notice that for every seven days I would be given 300 of these points, and to say I was excited was obvious. As to why I didn't want to purchase more of those defenses, specifically the higher levels, I was also interested in the Pocket World function.
A place just for myself that only I could access… I would say "take all my money," but this app doesn't exactly take money. In fact, it gives it to me for free—$20,000 a month, in fact.
It's funny—before all this, I considered just having that amount in my bank account was something to be treasured. But now I'm getting that monthly… it made me wonder how I should spend it. That is, once I build up enough of it.
There are so many things I just want to do, but first things first—I'd need to figure out a way to get out of the underworld. In an official capacity, anyone wishing to leave would have to take the Underworld Express or be given permission by the New Satan Faction—or the unofficial way of just being that good with spatial magic.
Turning off the shower, I leave the room, not even needing to use a towel, as I just use a basic application of demonic power to create a small bit of fire around my form. While it did create some steam, I was dry almost immediately. I wonder how those in my previous life would react to me using magic to immediately dry myself off after a shower.
But I mostly attribute that to my own lack of creativity. I was no genius like my older brother. Walking into the kitchen, I prepare myself some dinner, and after doing so, sit down by the fire. Above the fireplace, there was a portrait of my mother and father—the stares just boring into me.
I had checked to see if they had placed any security measures within the house, such as anything to record audio or visual, and while I did find a couple, they were mostly in the dining area and my bedroom.
I didn't disconnect them, as it would most likely alert them that something would be wrong. And while I would think that they would care for a moment… Finishing my food, I returned back to the kitchen and placed my plate into the washer.
Looking back towards the portrait above the fireplace, I grab a nearby extra curtain and place it over the portrait. I truly didn't like the look of it.
Walking upstairs and towards the library, I enter the place and immediately smell the stench of old parchment. And while I never thought I would, I was genuinely happy to be in here. Given the lack of entertainment, this was the best I could do.
As I sat down, I continued reading the basics of demonic runes. The newer chapters mostly covered the creation of wards as well as various traps. Demonic magic could never promote growth, so you won't find paradises using demonic warding—but it did allow for the creation of essentially a bounded field, though less sophisticated.
It was the basis of the system that allowed for the creation of the Rating Game arenas. The problem is, any areas created had the issue of being temporary. Nothing built using demonic magic was ever made to truly last. I assume again that is Lucifer's way of sticking it to his old man. While the Big G may create grand plans, Lucifer would find ways to disrupt them in every opposing way he could.
It's for this reason fundamentally why I assume demonic magic is unable to heal—other than through skin-to-skin contact. And even then, it isn't really healing. It's just pumping demonic power into another person, which destroys the cells and promotes the creation of new ones—with the demonic power acting as a way to create new cells without draining the body of its nutrients and proteins.
Funnily enough, there was a Bible in this library. It was old and decrepit, but was still legible. It was still written in the old Latin, but I didn't need to understand it to try to experiment.
As a test, I would sometimes read the passages, and as I felt the burning sensation on my body, I kept going—trying to get further and further—but found little success in it.
Sometimes, after trying to read it, I would find my own skin start to smoke like a hot iron being pressed under my skin.
But every time I found myself being annoyed by the fact that such weaknesses existed within me, I then reminded myself that His angel faction is probably the weakest one. And the fact that most of His Sacred Gears either never had the chance to fully develop with humanity or became tools of the Fallen or the Devils.
I myself found myself interested in the idea of Sacred Gears—mostly just for the abilities and not having a literal separate entity within my soul. My favorite one being the Annihilation Maker. That one seems like it had a lot of potential.
But as stated before, all of the information in this library was basic at best. This house was never meant to be lived in—it was mostly meant to be used as extra space.
"No place for bad rubbish, after all…" The words I uttered were so silent that barely anyone could hear, yet they seemed to echo around the room.
Placing the book back onto the shelf, I returned to my room and went to sleep… thankful that I had mind defense to defend against anyone trying to invade my dreams. Looking at you, giant red dragon.
(Main House of Astaroth, Outside the City of Lilith)
As night fell upon the underworld, the moon shone in the sky, yet no one seemed to look at it… especially those within the House of Astaroth.
Within one of the private rooms within the manor sat two figures—one of them, a man with striking green hair and a woman with a lighter blue hue. They ate, and out of silence, not a sound could be heard other than the clacking of silverware on plates.
Yet, even though it was completely silent, it was as if a thousand words were being said all at once—just through their expressions, or lack thereof.
"I have received word that the Youth Gathering has been assigned a date for this year," Lady Astaroth said as she slowly cleaned her face, even though it remained immaculate.
The man, placing his silverware on the table, then summons a surveillance crest, which then shows an image of the home of their youngest son. One could see a slight annoyance in both of their eyes as they saw their son sleeping, seemingly without a care in the world.
"Again, I am astounded by his laziness… truly, I do not understand how we could've produced such failure." The Lord simply turned off the image, while his wife made no visible response.
For another few moments, no words were said, until Lady Astaroth asked her husband, "Should we inform him of the gathering?"
"I will send a letter to him in the morning. While the boy is weak, his etiquette is adequate enough for such gatherings." The father then opened up another observational crest, and soon enough a bird's-eye view appeared. But noticing nothing amiss, he again dismissed the view.
"I assume you have heard of the recent announcement?" Lord Astaroth stated, as if it was less a question and more a fact.
"Yes—the marriage between the Gremory heir and the Phenex heir. According to all of the news, this event should be celebrated across the entire underworld." The statement made by the lady of the house caused an almost imperceptible chuckle between the two of them, as if they were sharing a bad joke.
"Zeoticus is a fool, blinded by his friendship with the Lord of the House of Phenex. Anyone can see that the two are incompatible… but overall, the girl doesn't seem very motivated, so the outcome is already inevitable. However, we should make sure to not take sides within this marital spat." One could almost hear the annoyance in his voice as he cuts a piece of meat and places it into his mouth.
"What of the girl? Ravel Phenex… she is still open to engagements. Maybe we could grant our son a boon and give him over to their house." The statement was met with silence; however, demonic power soon erupted from the Lord at the head of the table, his eyes glowing in a sharp green light—but it soon dissipated.
"I would not have you exposing our failure to the underworld… I would rather wait to have another child before engaging our failure to anyone… do not speak of this again." The Lady of the House just finished her meal as if nothing happened and stood up before walking towards her own room.
As her servants opened the door for her and allowed her to enter, she walked into the center of the room with the door closing behind her. And after it did so, and the privacy seals were put into place, the woman fell to the ground, sweat pouring down her face. Her eyes showing very obvious hints of fear. Yet, as she looked at the torn picture of her youngest son, her anger erupted as she threw spell after spell at the picture. Yet it remained unbroken—a constant reminder of her own failure.
As she looked towards the picture of her eldest son, the woman smiled—reminded of the fact that while the other devils may question why they haven't put their youngest son into the limelight, they are reminded of the fact that they are still the family that produced a Super Devil.
After repairing the damage, she goes about the room, preparing to rest and wondering when she should meet with the other ladies of various households before the Youth Gathering. She just hopes that their youngest won't embarrass himself in front of all of the other nobles.
(So yeah the main character's parents aren't exactly mentally stable, but there is a reason why Ajuka doesn't seem to care about what his younger brother gets up to or never even seems to mention his parents which are still alive. This may or may not have also been the reason that the original Diodora became such a deplorable being in the future. By the way, just to give confirmation, the main character is 10 years old and he has eight years until the start of the main story with technically four years left until the beginning of Slash/Dog.)
(Also again feel free to recommend any character templates for the future. Also feel free to let me know some usages for demonic power that I may be missing. It is imagination after all and I will admit I am not a scientist so go wild..)