The magic circle dissolved into the cold wind. The mansion's training grounds opened before them, wide and empty, the stone floor marked with runes reinforcing invisible barriers. The silence was dense, broken only by the distant cries of crows.
Grayfia walked to the center, posture straight, gaze fixed on the open space. Her hands remained steady, but her aura spread through the air like invisible frost.
She turned her face, her silver eyes locking on Gasper without expression.
"Gasper, show me the extent of your power. I want to see where your strength lies."
Her voice never rose, but the weight of her words was enough to cut the air.
His body stiffened. His breathing grew heavy, but instinct pushed him forward.
'My Sacred Gear… I can't. I don't trust it. Demonic magic… I don't control it either. But the vampire's instinct… that I know. That's natural. I can use that.'
His hands trembled, but Gasper raised his head and spoke quietly.
"Sister Grayfia… I'll do my best."
She didn't answer. She simply stood in the center of the field, unmoving, a statue carved from ice. Her silver gaze didn't blink—it only waited.
The silence stretched for a few seconds before Gasper spread his arms. Darkness pooled at his feet, rising like living smoke.
Ssshhh...
The mist spread quickly, covering the stones and veiling sight. In moments, the entire field was drowned in thick shadow. Yet to Gasper, everything remained clear. His vampiric sight cut through the black, tracing lines on the ground and, at the far end, Grayfia's still figure.
He drew a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. Power surged into his fingers, weaving veils of shadow spinning around him.
Vuuuush!
Darkness rose in waves, like curtains closing. Each motion forged a field where normal eyes could distinguish nothing. Gasper slid sideways, trying to use the cover.
Even so, Grayfia didn't move a muscle. Her posture was firm, her expression unchanging. Not even the cold wind sweeping through the fog seemed to touch her.
'It won't work. But I have to show everything I can.'
His heart raced faster. His short breaths betrayed the weight pressing onto his shoulders. With every passing second, the sensation of standing before a frozen abyss deepened.
He clenched his fists. Instinct urged him to strike without hesitation, to use the darkness as his shroud. The shadows slithered across the ground like serpents, curling around his body.
Ssshhh...
The air thickened as Gasper lunged forward. The sound of his steps blended with the hiss of living mist. His vampiric aura flickered, unstable, but heavy with primal force.
With a burst of speed, he shot ahead.
Vuuuush!
His body darted like a hidden arrow, cloaked in shadow. His right fist rose, guided by instinct, aimed at the center of Grayfia's chest.
Bam!
The punch tore through the barrier of mist, cutting the air straight toward her unmoving figure. The impact echoed through the grounds like a dry crack, reverberating across the stone.
Even so, Grayfia didn't budge. She didn't flinch, didn't lift an arm to defend. Her silver eyes merely followed Gasper's advance, as if studying an insignificant detail in the void.
His fist stopped mere centimeters from her body, wrapped in pulsing shadow. The cold aura radiating from her froze even the darkness he tried to shape.
He staggered half a step back, panting. The effort felt far heavier than the result.
The darkness shifted at his command, reshaping. From his feet, shadows thickened into tendrils, each ending in clenched fists ready to strike in waves.
Vuuuush!
The attacks came fast, one after another, punches thrown in rapid succession at Grayfia's unmoving body.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Each blow landed, but no real impact followed. It was like striking an unseen wall. Shadows ricocheted, scattering into black dust before reforming.
Ssshhhk!
More tendrils sprouted, quickening the assault. Gasper pressed forward with all the strength his vampiric instinct allowed. The field filled with the muffled sound of fruitless strikes.
Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!
Nothing changed. Grayfia remained motionless, her aura solid, impenetrable, as though an invisible barrier surrounded her entire body.
Her silver eyes followed in silence.
'He knows how to use shadow and is resourceful. But there isn't a single drop of demonic magic in his attacks, and that is a glaring weakness. As a vampire, promising. As a Devil… pathetic.'
The words never left her lips, but the judgment was carved clearly within her. The gulf between instinct and discipline showed with every second.
Gasper felt the weight of that gulf without hearing it. His breath grew ragged, his chest heaving, yet he continued. Shadows multiplied, strike after strike.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
The dry thuds rang like useless hammers against a fortress wall. Nothing changed.
'It's no use. No matter how many tendrils I create, she won't move. I need to try something else… one last test.'
His gaze hardened. Shadows recoiled all at once, retreating like rivers drawn backward into his body. Then they surged upward together, merging into a single mass pulsing like living muscle.
Ssshhhk!
The form swelled quickly, shaping into a colossal arm of throbbing darkness. Black veins coursed along its surface like inverted fire, each beat in sync with Gasper's racing heart.
He stepped forward, feet firm against the stone. The giant arm drew back like a catapult ready to release.
Vuuuush!
The strike came in a single motion, straight at Grayfia's body.
BOOOOM!
The air exploded in shockwaves. Shadows spread like thunder swallowing the grounds. The floor shook, runes flared, and the black mist rippled outward like water struck by a stone.
Gasper stood panting, the massive arm of shadow quivering, then breaking apart. Silence reclaimed the field, heavy and suffocating.
Grayfia hadn't taken a single step. Her silver gaze remained fixed on him, unhurried. The invisible barrier was untouched, as if the attack had never been launched.
She lifted her chin slightly, meeting his eyes for the first time. Her cold aura intensified, covering the space with a silent warning.
"That is all."
Her words cut through the air like a fine blade.
Gasper staggered back half a step, his chest heaving. Cold sweat slid down his forehead, mingling with the suffocating weight of helplessness.
The silence that followed was heavier than any strike. The grounds still reeked of dispersed shadows, but there was no strength left in his arms. Every muscle trembled, every fiber screamed the effort he had poured out.
"Sister Grayfia… that's all I have."
His voice was quiet, but raw with honesty.
He knew nothing was left inside him. Every idea, every instinct, every shadow he could conjure had already been hurled against the unyielding wall before him. And still, it hadn't been enough.
No number of tendrils, no massive arm, no vampiric aura had made her move. Not once. The gulf between them was one that brute effort could never cross.
His body trembled—not with fear, but with the weight of clarity: in his current state, he could never overcome anything that mattered. The only path left was to surrender himself to training, to trust that Grayfia could carve real strength into him.
The shadow mist thinned, fading like smoke carried off by the wind. The field returned to cold stone and silence.
Grayfia let a few seconds pass before speaking.
"You have good instincts as a vampire. The mist, the control of bats, the shadow attacks… all of this is part of who you are."
Her silver gaze bore into him, steady, leaving no room for hesitation.
"But I saw no trace of demonic magic in your strikes. Not a single drop. For a Devil, that is an unforgivable flaw."
Her words were cutting, but they carried no scorn. They were cold, technical—an objective analysis.
Gasper's shoulders slumped, his breath still uneven.
"Sister Grayfia… I already knew I was weak in that area. But… I've never been able to control magic properly."
Grayfia closed her eyes briefly. The air around her chilled further, laced with the aura of one who carried centuries of experience.
"You must understand. Shadows and vampiric instinct are part of you, but to limit yourself to that is to accept defeat against any true Devil. Your lineage gives you power, but not enough. Without demonic magic, you're just a dhampir with tricks."
Silence weighed over the field again. Gasper lowered his gaze, breathing slow, absorbing every word.
Grayfia stepped forward, the echo of her heel resounding on stone.
"If you wish to evolve, you must learn to merge these parts. Blood, shadow, and magic. That is the first step. Without it, you will never have a true place in this world."
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