The room was silent, lit only by the moonlight slipping through the open curtains. The cold wind swayed the fabric gently, and silver glow spread across the wooden floor, sketching thin shadows.
Sirzechs moved forward slowly, each step firm and unhurried. His scarlet gaze analyzed the simple room, though his presence filled the space completely. Gasper stood upright in front of the bed, body tense, red eyes reflecting both nervousness and resolve.
"You were a welcome surprise to me, Gasper."
The deep voice echoed calm, carrying no judgment.
"Not only for being part of my sister's peerage, but because you've shown something many did not expect. Change. Strength. Potential. And that pleases me."
Silence ruled the space again. Gasper drew a deep breath. Inside, his mind spun in quick calculations, weighing how to stand before someone so imposing. Should he fake the timid act he always wore, or show himself more direct? The decision pressed against him like a blade to the skin.
He lifted his gaze, his reply low but clear.
"Thank you for your words, Sirzechs-sama."
A faint blush crossed his cheeks, but the tone carried sincerity no half-truth could hide.
Sirzechs remained serene. A small smile curved his lips, enough to soften the heavy air for a moment. No words were needed to reveal his thoughts. Family was his greatest treasure, and his position as Maou existed solely to protect it, especially Rias.
Gasper's breathing steadied, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. His body still rigid, but his voice came again, holding quiet firmness.
"I will work hard to be useful to Rias. No matter what happens."
The silence that followed was brief, until Sirzechs's voice returned, carrying a tranquil, almost paternal weight.
"Those who prove useful deserve to be rewarded. If you prove your worth, Gasper, you will receive what you deserve. And know this—I will recognize it."
The silence returned, heavy and calculated. Gasper kept his firm posture, though inside the idea of reward felt like a burden. To him, being useful was not a matter of prize—it was obligation.
Sirzechs took a deeper breath, stepping closer. His presence filled the room without even releasing aura. His scarlet gaze fixed on the boy with absolute clarity.
"I know about Grayfia's blood."
The direct mention of the vial Gasper kept made his body tense even harder. His throat went dry at once.
"You think you would survive if you used it?"
The air seemed to stop. Gasper gave no reply. Silence was revealing—he didn't know himself. His eyes faltered, as if seeking an answer in the moon's reflection on the floor.
Sirzechs tilted his chin slightly, voice sharp as steel.
"You would not survive."
The weight of the sentence made Gasper's chest tighten. For a moment, he had thought it might be like drinking Rias's blood—painful, but manageable. But the Maou's words shattered the illusion.
His expression hardened. His crimson eyes flickered with concern, betraying his restrained tension.
Sirzechs pressed on, offering no escape.
"Grayfia is harsh with you, but she is just as harsh with Rias. She may worry as much as I do, but she has no softness. She is relentless. If she gave you her own blood, it was not just a gift. It was a test and a sentence. To survive, you will have to go beyond what you believe is possible."
Gasper's breathing quickened, his body tight under the weight of the words. The image of the maid rose in his mind, cold and absolute.
Sirzechs observed silently. His thoughts spun clear. Gasper had grown—but not enough. Against Riser, the gap was still brutal.
'He cannot overcome immortality.'
The Maou knew. No sudden training would change that. Yet, something in the boy's eyes kept him from being dismissed.
The silence broke when Sirzechs moved his hand. A small magic circle glowed in his palm, and a crystal vial appeared, reflecting the moonlight. The dark liquid inside shifted heavy, dense, as if holding an ancient essence.
Gasper stiffened. His body reacted before his mind. His red eyes locked onto the vial, his heart thundered.
Thump… Thump… Thump…
Doubt struck instantly.
'That blood… is it his?'
The thought cut like a blade. If it were Sirzechs's blood, it was unthinkable. If he couldn't survive Grayfia's, how much less could he endure that of a Maou? Would his body endure, or be torn apart by the power?
His breath stuttered, shallow and restrained. A faint flush crossed his cheeks, but his eyes did not leave the crystal.
Sirzechs noticed the tension. His gentle smile vanished, replaced by the firmness of one who wastes no words.
"It is not mine. Nor Grayfia's. It is from a vampire. A powerful vampire, whose name I will not tell. But I can guarantee the strength within is genuine."
The words struck heavy, hammer against iron.
The vial seemed to pulse, alive. The crimson glow inside reflected in Gasper's eyes, forcing him to face what he would have refused under any other circumstance.
His chest tightened again. His mind raced.
'It could be weaker than Grayfia. Or it could be stronger. It doesn't matter. Drinking random blood handed by Devils is far too dangerous. But right now, I have no choice. I can only keep training and hope I won't need to use any of it.'
Sirzechs stepped closer, extending the vial toward him. The moonlight glinted on the crystal, making the liquid pulse as though alive.
"Take it."
Gasper's body hesitated, but his hand moved. His fingers touched the cold glass, and a shiver ran up his arm. The vial seemed to vibrate, aware.
Thump… Thump… Thump…
His heart pounded fast.
'Why do they keep giving me these vials? Why must I depend on this? I don't want to survive only by sucking someone else's blood. I need to be strong on my own.'
Sirzechs did not look away.
"Drink. Now."
The words left no space for refusal.
Gasper froze. His red eyes fixed on the vial. His mind spun in denial.
'No… I don't want this. I can't keep accepting whatever they hand me. If I drink, it could destroy me. Corrupt me. Another cruel test.'
His breath quickened, fingers trembled, but Sirzechs held the silent command with sheer presence. There was no escape.
"Show me if you are capable."
The boy closed his eyes briefly. His face hardened.
'There's no use resisting. If I refuse, he'll see weakness. I have no choice.'
The cork broke with a sharp sound.
Crack.
The metallic scent spilled out at once, thick, heavy—like rusted iron mixed with ancient rot. Gasper's stomach churned, his throat tightening just from the stench.
'Disgusting… this is nothing like Rias's blood. This is bitter, heavy, like poison in the air.'
He raised the vial, his hands steady despite the revulsion. Sirzechs's eyes stayed on him, allowing no hesitation.
The dark liquid touched his lips.
Glup.
The first drop rolled over his tongue, and the sensation was immediate. Bitter, viscous, almost rotten. His body convulsed in shock, wanting to spit it out. But the command weighed more than instinct.
'Damn it… what a horrible taste. I can't believe I have to drink this. I'll curse this forever, but I can't stop now.'
Glup. Glup.
The liquid slid down his throat, burning every inch. His stomach tightened, his muscles locked. The blood's dark aura spread through him like venom searching for space.
'Damn this vial… it feels like I'm being torn apart inside. Unlike Rias's… this is vile. But I can't collapse. Not in front of him.'
His fingers clenched the glass tight, nearly shattering it. His whole body trembled, but he kept drinking. The bitter taste spread, dragging nausea and pain.
Glup. Glup. Glup.
At last, the vial emptied. Gasper dropped to his knees. His breathing ragged, cold sweat dripping down his face, his stomach twisting to throw it all back out.
Haaah… Haaah…
The blood's aura raged inside him, like a beast forced awake. His body twitched, eyes squeezing shut. Yet he stayed conscious.
Sirzechs watched silently. He did not help, did not pity. He only measured.
The boy lifted his face slowly. The blush was gone, replaced by pale determination.
"It's done."
His voice came weak, but clear.
'Damn it… I'll hate that taste until I die. But I did it. I swallowed it all. Let it be worth something, because I never want to go through that again.'
Sirzechs gave a slight nod, satisfied.
"Then you managed. That is enough for now."
He turned calmly toward the door, leaving Gasper still on the floor, breathing hard. The Maou's imposing figure vanished down the corridor, carrying the heavy silence with him.
Clack.
The door closed.
Gasper slumped back, clutching his stomach. His breath still uneven, crimson eyes fixed on the floor.
'Training. That's the only way. If I keep depending on these vials, I'll die early. I need to be stronger by my own power, not by scraps they hand me.'
The cold wind slipped in through the window again, rustling the curtains. Moonlight washed over Gasper's pale face, unmoving but firm.
The bitter taste still burned in his mouth, reminding him of the burden he carried.
He said nothing. He only kept the night's silence as a promise that he would keep fighting.
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