The training ground was still shrouded in thin mist. Gasper's breath came short, each inhale laced with the metallic taste of strain. Grayfia stared at him with the same unmoving expression as before, silver eyes sharp as blades.
"You have good instincts as a vampire. But I saw no trace of demonic power in your strikes. For a Devil, that is unforgivable."
Her voice was steady, never raised. There was no anger, only cold certainty.
Gasper lowered his head slightly, shoulders trembling.
"Sister Grayfia… I already knew. I've always been weak with magic. But… I tried to show what I could."
Silence. Only the distant wind brushing the walls.
Grayfia remained still, weighing every word he had just spoken. The air between them felt frozen, dense, impossible to pierce. Gasper drew a deep breath but didn't raise his eyes.
"Why didn't you use your Sacred Gear?"
The question split the air like breaking ice. It wasn't an accusation shouted aloud, but a demand for clarity.
Gasper's body stiffened. His fingers pressed into his legs, hesitant. The answer seemed simple, yet every syllable carried invisible weight.
"Sister Grayfia… I know how to use it. But the drain on my magic would be too great… and… I thought it wouldn't work on you."
His voice was low, but clear enough to be heard. Silence fell back upon them, sealing the space once more.
Grayfia's face didn't shift. Stone, unchanging. And yet Gasper felt a sudden chill crawl down his spine, as if he had said something wrong. His breath faltered for a moment, his mouth dry.
The woman only raised her chin slightly, her gaze fixed without hurry. Her aura spread outward, cold, swallowing the field.
Ssshhh…
The last of the shadows still unraveled at his feet, dragged away like smoke in the wind.
At last, Grayfia spoke.
"You assumed it wouldn't work against me. To assume, in battle, is to accept defeat before you even fight."
The words fell with dry weight, leaving no room for reply.
Gasper stepped back half a pace. His eyes dropped again, unable to hold her silver gaze. His hands trembled faintly, hidden close to his body.
"Sister Grayfia… forgive me. I just…"
He cut himself short, swallowing hard. Any excuse would sound useless.
Grayfia hadn't moved an inch. Her stance remained upright, flawless, without a single crack.
"Understand this, Gasper. You cannot choose which weapons to wield based on fear or assumption. Your Sacred Gear is part of you. To deny it is the same as admitting eternal weakness."
Her words were sharp but not cruel. They were the clarity of an instructor who allowed no concessions.
For a moment, only Gasper's unsteady breathing filled the air.
He closed his eyes briefly, trying to recover. His body ached, muscles heavy, but what weighed most was the gulf between him and that unreachable woman.
"Sister Grayfia… I'll try again. But… if I use the Sacred Gear… I don't know if I can maintain it."
His reply was timid, nearly suffocated.
Grayfia stepped forward once. The sound of her heel struck hard against the stones.
"I don't want excuses. I want progress. Even unstable, even imperfect, you must learn to wield it under pressure. That is what separates those who survive from those who die."
Her gaze never wavered.
Gasper inhaled deeply. His heart pounded, but there was a faint spark in his voice now.
"Yes, Sister Grayfia."
He shut his eyes again. His body trembled still from earlier exertion, but her command was absolute.
'First time… it might not work. Probably won't. But I can't refuse. The last thing I want is to anger this woman.'
The air thickened. An invisible chill crept across the edges of the ground, as if every stone was bound in place.
'Then I'll freeze everything. Everything within my sight. Even if only for a moment.'
His eyes opened. Pale pupils reflected the gathering energy. The ground shivered silently, and the air vibrated.
Ssshhh…
The Sacred Gear ignited. The world itself shook. Wind ceased, sound halted, dust hung suspended midair.
The power bled his magic like a raging river. Veins stood out on his arms, chest heaving.
'It's working… I did it…!'
He looked ahead.
Grayfia stood exactly where she had been. Her body was not frozen. Her silver eyes stared back, cold as ever, cutting through the layers of power as if they were a passing breeze.
Gasper's breath faltered.
'I knew it. It doesn't work on her. Not even for a second.'
The drained magic dispersed, the world resumed. Wind blew, dust fell, sound returned. Gasper panted, knees nearly buckling.
Grayfia had not moved, unaffected just as he had feared.
She took one step forward, the echo sharp against stone.
"Enough, Gasper. I've seen all I needed."
The command was dry, clear. No praise, no scorn. Only conclusion.
Gasper's body sagged slightly. His chest rose and fell in harsh rhythm, a dull ache hammering behind his eyes.
'I drained so much magic… uselessly. Why does it hurt this much? I have regeneration. This shouldn't happen… or should it?'
His legs gave way, and he collapsed to his knees. Hands pressed to his eyes with desperate force.
"Nnhhh…"
His breathing broke. The thirst for blood, muted during the strain, roared back like fire in his throat. The very scent of the air was unbearable.
'No… not again… this impulse…'
The cold floor barely held him. His body shook, teeth clenched to contain the rough sound threatening to escape.
Suddenly, a hand rested on his shoulder.
Firm, but not violent. Cold, yet strangely gentle.
Her voice followed, calm and cutting like polished steel.
"Rest, Gasper. You pushed your limit far too soon."
His mind tried to answer but failed. His body could bear no more.
"Yes… Sister Grayfia…"
The words slipped faintly. In an instant, consciousness left him.
His weight fell forward, but not to the ground. Grayfia caught him easily, holding him in her arms.
Silence reclaimed the field. The mist of shadow had dispersed, leaving only the cold wind around the walls.
In her arms, Gasper seemed even smaller, fragile against her firm, upright figure.
Grayfia adjusted him effortlessly, lifting him as though he weighed nothing.
'He didn't use demonic power even with the Forbidden Balor View. Everything was sustained only by the Sacred Gear's energy and his vampiric body.'
Her silver gaze was impassive, but within, calculations never ceased.
'By my knowledge, he'll wake in one or two hours. The boy has vast potential. Once I teach him to channel the demonic magic in his body, he will not only aid Rias in breaking her engagement… he will become a true servant in the future.'
Gasper stirred faintly, instinctively seeking relief. His ragged breathing betrayed the toll.
'Because he didn't combine demonic magic with the Sacred Gear, he'll wake with stronger bloodlust. That is a problem. I cannot give him mine—it would overwhelm him in this state. This is Rias's duty. As his King, she must help him endure this hunger.'
Grayfia raised her hand. A silver circle bloomed in the air, ancient lines turning like celestial gears. It pulsed once, light reflected in her unblinking eyes.
"Lady Rias, come to the training grounds. Your pawn needs you."
The words were cold, but clear. The seal flared and shattered into icy sparks.
She stood in silence. Though Gasper's weight was nothing, her eyes measured every detail: his breath, the spasms, the racing pulse. Nothing escaped her silver gaze.
Minutes crawled by. Wind swept across the stones, scattering fine dust, carrying the distant caw of crows.
Fuuuushhh…
Another circle appeared on the ground, crimson and bright. Runes spread in perfect pattern, the Gremory crest blazing above the stone.
The air trembled.
At its center, Rias emerged. Her aura of flame followed, scarlet hair flowing like fire. Concern already filled her gaze before it fixed on who stood before her.
"Grayfia!"
Her voice shattered the silence. The moment she saw Gasper unconscious in the woman's arms, her heart leapt. Her eyes scanned him, every detail.
"What happened to him?"
Grayfia wasted no time. She shifted Gasper in her arms and carefully handed him to Rias, as though passing responsibility rather than just a body.
"He pushed his limit too soon. The Sacred Gear drained all his magic. He will wake in a few hours, but with hunger. That part will be your duty, Lady Rias."
Rias held Gasper against her, feeling his weak breath against her chest. His weight seemed heavier than it was—not by body, but by responsibility.
"So he's out of danger…"
Grayfia inclined her head slightly, eyes locked on her.
"He is. But tomorrow the training will be different. I will accept neither rest nor concessions. If you want him to be a true servant, he must learn to withstand battle pressure. Prepare him."
The order left no room for objection.
Rias drew a deep breath. Her eyes lingered on Gasper's pale face, then returned to Grayfia.
"I understand."
For a moment, silence reigned. Grayfia's cold aura filled the space, Rias's warm aura pushing back. The contrast was stark, but no hostility lingered—only two roles on the same board.
Grayfia stepped back once, heel striking hard on stone.
"Then I am finished here. Take care of him. Tomorrow there will be no mercy."
A silver circle formed beneath her feet. Lines of frost spread across the ground, reflecting the chill of her gaze.
A sharp sound sealed the spell. Grayfia vanished, leaving only a trace of cold in the air.
Rias stood still for a moment. Silence weighed heavier now, as if the field itself retained the echo of the command left behind.
Her eyes fell on Gasper. His face looked peaceful, but his ragged breath betrayed the hunger awaiting him when he awoke.
A faint smile curved her lips, though her gaze stayed firm.
"You'll be fine, Gasper. I'll take care of you. If tomorrow brings no rest, tonight will be different. I'll give you everything you need."
Her hand brushed his light hair in an instinctive gesture. Her crimson aura wrapped around them both, warding off the chill left behind.
The wind blew again across the field. Dust rose, then fell. The Gremory crest slowly faded from the ground, leaving no trace of the summoning.
Rias adjusted Gasper in her arms, holding him close.
"Grayfia wouldn't say it if she didn't believe you could grow strong. She's cold, but never wastes words. So I'll believe it too. You might be the piece that changes everything."
Her gaze lifted, steady, as if accepting an unseen challenge.
With Gasper asleep against her chest, she left the field behind.
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