After Lord Sullivan finished reinforcing Noir's hands with the complex strengthening spell, making his bones dense and his muscles magically resilient, the elderly demon was utterly exhausted.
SULLIVAN: (Wiping a dramatic tear) "Oh, my poor hands! All that high-level spell-casting has drained me! I've lost the strength to even cuddle a Buer! Noir-chan, my precious powerhouse, you're ready for the big leagues! Now, you just need practice, practice, practice!"
Sullivan then turned to his ever-stoic, golden-eyed butler, Opera, who was diligently filing paperwork nearby.
SULLIVAN: "Opera! I'm entrusting Noir-chan's final preparations to you! Make sure he's absolutely ready to nail the Cannonball Execution exam! I'm off to eat pudding and recover my mana!"
And with a flourish, Sullivan disappeared, leaving Noir alone with the meticulous, highly effective, and terrifyingly calm butler.
Opera merely gave a slight nod, their tail flicking once in acknowledgment of the task. They assessed Noir, not as the pampered grandson, but as a student who needed to master a fundamental skill.
OPERA: (Voice smooth and unwavering) "Young Master. The ability to launch an object with power is one thing. However, in the Cannonball Execution, you must also be able to receive the magical sphere from your partner, transferring its immense kinetic energy without dropping it or losing your footing. You must learn the proper fundamentals of catching and absorbing force."
Noir gulped. He hadn't considered the receiving part of the test. Given the power he was now capable of channeling, any dropped catch would likely result in an enormous damage and disqualification.
The training began, and it was exhaustive.
Opera was a ruthless teacher. They started with simple, heavy rocks, using a low-level kinetic spell to launch them at Noir.
OPERA: "Position your hands, Young Master. Do not simply meet the force; cradle it. Let the energy flow around you before you anchor it."
Noir tried, but his instincts were clumsy. The reinforced magic in his hands kept the bones from shattering, but the impact sent him stumbling back several feet.
Then came the bigger objects: massive enchanted logs, training shields, and eventually, magical spheres weighing over a hundred pounds. Opera increased the intensity, launching the objects with speeds that were borderline dangerous.
OPERA: (Unmoved, after Noir was knocked flat for the fifth time) "Again. Focus on the transfer. The goal is to make the immense force look like a mere ripple. If you want to seize your future, you must seize this object with flawless control."
Day after day, Noir trained. He learned to brace his core, to angle his hands, and to use the subtle energy within the Ring of Gluttony to neutralize the incoming magical force—a crucial step that was not taught in any Babyls class. He was battered, bruised (in non-visible ways, thanks to the reinforcement), and utterly worn out, but he was learning.
It was during one of these grueling sessions—where Opera was launching enchanted, rapidly spinning discs at Noir—that two figures appeared at the edge of the training grounds.
It was Asmodeus Alice and Valac Clara. They had been following Noir, still convinced he was undertaking some magnificent, secret political or strength-building task.
They had witnessed how hard Noir was training for the exam, seeing the sheer power of the objects Opera was hurling at him.
Alice's pink hair seemed to bristle with concern and admiration.
ALICE: "Unbelievable! To voluntarily subject himself to such brutal, rigorous training! Noir-sama is striving to master the art of receiving force, a skill necessary for any Archdemon!"
Clara, meanwhile, simply saw that Noir was playing a very intense, very complicated game of catch—and she wanted in.
CLARA: (Eyes sparkling with mischief) "Ooh, a new game! It's 'Super Catch'! I want to play Super Catch with Noir!"
Alice rushed forward first, his loyalty overriding all common sense.
ALICE: "Noir-sama! Please allow me to assist! I shall catch for you! Or better yet, I shall spar with you to improve your defensive maneuvers!"
CLARA: (Bounding forward, forgetting the severity of the training) "Me too! Me too! I'll catch the little one! Give me the fuzzy one, Opera!"
Opera merely paused, assessing the interruption. They saw the unwavering loyalty and potential utility of the Misfits.
OPERA: "Very well. If the Young Master's companions wish to participate, they may. Alice, you will practice catching the rebounding force. Valac, you will retrieve the missed objects. This will improve Young Master's reaction time."
And so, the rigorous practice continued, but now with the added chaos of the Misfit Trio. Alice, initially intending to "spar," quickly found himself relegated to catching the enormous, burning remnants of magical spheres that Noir either deflected or missed. Clara, meanwhile, treated the entire field like a giant obstacle course, retrieving items and occasionally getting hit, which she seemed to enjoy immensely.
The training became less of a solo ordeal and more of a demonstration of their camaraderie. Noir was pushed harder, knowing his friends were depending on his success, and they, in turn, were deeply impressed by his relentless effort.
After days of intense, focused work, Sullivan and Opera deemed Noir ready.
Sullivan had a final, tearful address: "Oh, Noir-chan! My heart is swelling with pride! Your strength is immense! Just remember to wear your lucky charm, darling!" (He was referring to the Ring of Gluttony).
Opera offered a more succinct, formal assessment.
OPERA: "Young Master. Your control over the kinetic dissipation is satisfactory. You will pass."
Noir, though physically worn out, felt a quiet confidence bloom. He had sought control over his wild power, and through sheer persistence, he had achieved a fragile truce with it.
As the morning sun broke over the academy, casting long shadows across the grounds, the day of the Cannonball Execution exam arrived. Noir, surrounded by his supportive friends and the immense expectations of his grandfather, felt the weight of his Ambition settle firmly on his shoulders. He was ready to seize his chance.