During meditation, Sirzechs sat cross-legged, eyes closed, as waves of demonic energy coursed through him. For months, he had struggled to harmonize the different energies he possessed—raw demonic energy, refined mana, physical vitality, and even the mental force of willpower. Each on its own was powerful, but they clashed when forced together.
Now, however, something clicked. His energy flowed seamlessly, circulating through his veins like a symphony with perfect rhythm. His body hummed with strength, his mind felt sharper than ever, and even his aura radiated stable, commanding authority.
"This isn't just control," Sirzechs muttered, holding up his glowing hand. "This is… domination."
A soft chime rang in his head.
> New Skill Acquired: Energy Domination
Description: The user achieves perfect unity of body, mind, mana, and demonic energy (excluding Power of Destruction). Enhances speed, strength, endurance, and perception. Greatly stabilizes spellcasting and martial ability. A foundational skill with limitless growth.
Sirzechs smirked. "Yeah… Energy Domination. That sounds about right."
The Gremory estate's living room radiated both warmth and grandeur. Velvet curtains framed tall windows, letting in slivers of golden sunlight. A chandelier of enchanted crystal lit the polished mahogany floor, and a soft fire crackled in the hearth.
Seated on the main chair was Zeoticus Gremory, a tall man with crimson hair and a well-trimmed beard. His eyes were gentle, but there was an iron firmness behind them, the kind only a patriarch of an ancient house could hold.
Across from him sat Venelana Gremory, elegance embodied. Her long auburn hair cascaded over her shoulder, violet eyes glinting with intelligence. Every movement of hers carried grace and subtle authority—the aura of a woman used to commanding both respect and admiration.
Sirzechs lounged lazily on the opposite couch, head tilted, already suspicious of where this conversation was going.
"The Youth Devil Gathering will take place next week," Zeoticus began. His tone was calm, but it carried weight. "It is an opportunity for all heirs of the noble houses to meet, speak, and form bonds."
Sirzechs raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
Venelana set her teacup down softly. "It isn't simply a ball, my son. It's where the future of devil society is quietly written. Alliances, rivalries, marriages—everything begins there. You cannot keep hiding from this."
Zeoticus leaned forward. "The hall will be filled with heirs from the great houses—Bael, Glasya-Labolas, Agares, Sitri, and more. There will be music, etiquette, formal speeches, and—" he paused with a slight smile, "plenty of posturing."
Venelana chuckled softly. "And don't forget the little competitions. Magic duels, tests of wit, sometimes even subtle debates between families. You'll be expected to show yourself as the heir of Gremory."
Sirzechs groaned, throwing his head back. "So basically, a glorified peacock festival."
"You will attend," Zeoticus said firmly.
"I'd rather train. Or sleep. Or literally anything else," Sirzechs muttered.
Venelana gave him a sharp look. "Sirzechs. You cannot stay hidden forever. Power is important, yes, but power without connections is a lonely throne. Do you want to isolate yourself from every major house?"
"I don't care about their fake smiles and flowery words," Sirzechs shot back, crossing his arms. "I don't need their approval."
"That kind of arrogance," Zeoticus warned, "is exactly why you do need to attend. To prove that you're not just a prodigy swinging around destructive power, but a future leader who can stand among his peers."
Venelana added softly, "And there's the matter of your fiancée…"
Sirzechs nearly choked. "...Fiancée?!"
Venelana's lips curved into a knowing smile. "The contracts between noble houses are often decided at such gatherings. Whether you like it or not, discussions about your future partner may very well begin there."
Sirzechs waved his hand dismissively. "Tch. I'm not interested in that either."
Sirzechs froze. The image of silver hair, icy beauty, and unreadable eyes appeared in his mind. His ears turned red as he looked away quickly. "…I suppose… going once won't kill me."
Venelana's laugh was soft but victorious. "I knew that would work."
Zeoticus leaned back, sipping his wine. "Good. Then it's settled."
Sirzechs groaned into his hand. "Why do I feel like I've been tricked?"
After Zeoticus excused himself to handle estate matters, the living room grew quieter. The flicker of the firelight reflected in Venelana's eyes as she regarded her son, who sat slouched on the couch with his arms crossed like a stubborn child.
"Still sulking?" she teased gently, sipping her tea.
"I'm not sulking," Sirzechs muttered. "I just don't see the point in pretending to like people I couldn't care less about."
Venelana set her cup down and leaned forward slightly, her violet eyes soft but firm. "My dear son, not everything in life is about what you like. Sometimes, it's about what you must do."
He frowned. "You sound like Father."
"Good. He's right." Her lips curved into a faint smile. "But unlike him, I understand why you resist."
Sirzechs looked up, surprised.
Venelana continued, her tone lower, more private. "You're not like the others, Sirzechs. Even as a child, you were… different. The other heirs play politics, squabble for scraps of influence, and measure themselves against each other. But you—" she gestured at him with grace, "you were always beyond them. Your power sets you apart. And sometimes, that makes you feel like there's no point in joining their little games."
He blinked, not expecting her to so easily voice the very thought he never admitted aloud.
"…Exactly," he muttered.
Venelana's eyes softened further. "But listen carefully, my son. That distance you feel—it can make you lonely. No matter how powerful you are, isolation will eat at you slowly. I've seen it happen to others. Pride turns to arrogance, arrogance to solitude, and solitude… to despair."
Sirzechs shifted uncomfortably. "I don't care about despair. I have my family. I have enough."
Venelana shook her head, rising gracefully from her seat and walking toward him. She placed her hand gently on his shoulder and pulled his head into her boobs.
"Family is your root, yes. But you also need wings. Allies. Friends. People who will fight for you not because you're Sirzechs Gremory, the powerhouse—but because they know you, because they chose to stand beside you."
Her voice softened even more, carrying a weight only a mother could speak with. "Someday, your father and I will no longer be there beside you.Someday, you will carry the burden of this house on your shoulders. And when that time comes, you must have people you can trust—not just retainers bound by duty, but bonds forged by your own choice."
Sirzechs remained silent, staring at the floor.
Venelana leaned closer, whispering, "And perhaps, among them… you'll find someone who eases that distance. Someone who makes you feel seen."
Her words made Grayfia's image flash once again in his mind, unbidden.
Venelana pulled back, her knowing smile returning. "So go to this gathering, Sirzechs. Not because your father says so. Not because I insist. But because—deep down—you know it might change something for you."
For the first time, Sirzechs didn't argue. He just let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're far too good at this, you know."
Venelana chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face like she did when he was a boy and placing a kiss on his lips."Of course. I'm your mother."