Riser didn't rush to the training ground the next morning.
That alone would've been strange if anyone had been paying close attention.
Yesterday, he had pushed himself until his body barely held together. The instinct to go back immediately—to chase that same edge, that same progress—was still there.
But he didn't follow it.
Instead, he sat in the lounge.
A cup of tea rested in his hand, still steaming faintly. Across from him, Ravel sat with her usual calm posture, golden eyes watching him with quiet focus.
She had already noticed.
Of course she had.
"You're not training today."
It wasn't a question.
Riser took a slow sip before answering.
"I will."
A pause.
"Just not first."
Ravel tilted her head slightly. "That's… new."
"Yeah."
He set the cup down carefully.
"I've been thinking."
"That's even more new."
He snorted lightly. "Wow. Supportive."
"You're alive, so I assume something changed."
Riser leaned back, resting his arm over the chair.
"Strength alone isn't enough."
Ravel didn't respond immediately.
She waited.
That was one of her habits—letting silence do the work.
So he continued.
"I can get stronger. Faster. Better at fighting."
"Yes."
"But that doesn't automatically mean anything changes."
Her fingers rested lightly against her cup.
"You're referring to influence."
"Exactly."
Riser looked at her directly.
"If I want to actually do something—change anything—I need people to listen."
"And they won't," she said calmly, "just because you can fight."
"Right."
That didn't frustrate him as much as it should've.
Maybe because it made sense.
Or maybe because he had already accepted it.
Ravel studied him for a moment longer.
"Then what do you plan to do?"
That was the real question.
Riser exhaled slowly.
"First, I need to understand how things actually work."
"You don't?"
"Not properly."
He gestured vaguely.
"I know the basics. Clans, hierarchy, status. But that's surface-level."
"Correct."
"There's more."
"Much more."
Ravel set her cup down.
"If you're asking seriously, then I'll answer seriously."
Riser straightened slightly.
"Good."
She folded her hands neatly in her lap.
"In the underworld, strength gives you presence. It makes others aware of you."
"Okay."
"Status gives you legitimacy. It determines whether they consider you worth acknowledging."
"Makes sense."
"And influence—" she paused slightly, "—comes from relationships."
Riser frowned.
"Relationships?"
"Alliances. Debts. Agreements. Reputation built over time."
He leaned forward a bit.
"So it's basically politics."
"Yes."
"…I hate politics."
"You don't have to like it."
Her gaze sharpened slightly.
"But you cannot ignore it."
That hit harder than expected.
Because she was right.
Again.
Riser ran a hand through his hair.
"Alright. So what's step one?"
Ravel didn't answer immediately.
She watched him carefully, as if measuring something.
Then—
"You need visibility."
"Visibility."
"Right now, you're… irrelevant."
"That's harsh."
"It's accurate."
"Fair."
She continued without pause.
"Your recent behavior has been… unusual."
"That's one way to put it."
"It has drawn some attention."
Riser blinked.
"Wait. It has?"
"Yes."
That was new.
"From who?"
"Minor houses. Servants. A few lower-ranked devils."
"That doesn't sound impressive."
"It's not."
She met his eyes directly.
"But it is a start."
Riser leaned back again, thinking.
"So I need bigger attention."
"Eventually."
"How?"
Ravel's expression didn't change.
"You create a moment."
"A moment."
"Something people notice."
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
"That sounds vague on purpose."
"It is."
"Helpful."
"You're welcome."
Riser sighed.
"Alright, be less mysterious."
Ravel's lips curved just slightly.
"Befitting your preference, I'll simplify."
"Please do."
"You need an achievement."
"Like what?"
"Something measurable. Something undeniable."
He considered that.
"A victory?"
"Possibly."
"A public one."
"Preferably."
Riser tapped his fingers lightly against the armrest.
"That sounds like trouble."
"It usually is."
"Great."
Ravel picked up her tea again.
"You asked."
"Yeah, yeah."
He glanced at her.
"Is that the only way?"
"No."
"Of course not."
"There are other methods."
"Such as?"
"Strategic alliances."
Riser made a face.
"That sounds even worse."
"It is slower."
"Politics again."
"Yes."
He groaned quietly.
"I liked it better when I was just getting punched."
"You still can."
"That's comforting."
Ravel took a small sip.
"You don't have to do everything at once."
Riser looked at her again.
"Meaning?"
"You're trying to solve too many problems at the same time."
He paused.
Because—
That wasn't wrong either.
"I need strength."
"Yes."
"I need recognition."
"Yes."
"I need influence."
"Yes."
Ravel set her cup down again.
"Then build them in parallel."
Riser blinked.
"…Explain."
"You continue training."
"Obviously."
"You create opportunities to be seen."
"That's the hard part."
"And you begin forming connections."
Riser frowned.
"With who?"
"Anyone useful."
"That sounds vague again."
"It's meant to be flexible."
He exhaled slowly.
"This is complicated."
"Yes."
"But doable."
"Also yes."
Riser stared at the ceiling for a moment.
Then back at her.
"…You're good at this."
"I was trained for it."
"Yeah, I can tell."
A brief silence settled between them.
Not uncomfortable.
Just—
Thoughtful.
Riser picked up his cup again, though the tea had already cooled slightly.
"Alright."
Ravel watched him closely.
"What have you decided?"
He didn't answer immediately.
He thought it through.
Carefully this time.
Not rushing.
Not reacting.
Planning.
"I'll keep training with Yubelluna."
"Good."
"I'll look for a chance to stand out."
She nodded once.
"And?"
He met her gaze.
"I'll start paying attention to people."
That earned a small pause.
Then—
"That is a good start."
Riser smirked slightly.
"Don't sound so surprised."
"I'm not."
"You definitely are."
"I'm evaluating."
"Sure you are."
Ravel didn't argue.
But there was a faint softness in her expression now.
Subtle.
Easy to miss.
Riser stood up, stretching his arms slightly.
His body still felt heavy from yesterday.
Still sore.
Still not fully recovered.
But—
That didn't bother him as much anymore.
"…You know," he said, glancing at her, "this is way more complicated than just getting stronger."
"Yes."
"And way more annoying."
"Also yes."
He huffed a quiet laugh.
"Alright."
He started walking toward the door.
"Where are you going?"
"Training."
Ravel tilted her head slightly.
"I thought you were delaying it."
"I was."
He paused at the doorway.
"But I've got a direction now."
That made a difference.
A big one.
Because yesterday—
He was just reacting.
Trying to survive.
Trying to improve.
Now—
He had a goal.
Not just strength.
Not just survival.
Something bigger.
"Ravel."
"Yes?"
He looked back at her.
"Thanks."
She didn't respond immediately.
Then—
"You're welcome."
Simple.
But genuine.
Riser nodded once.
Then stepped out.
The hallway felt quieter than usual.
Or maybe—
He was just thinking more.
Each step echoed slightly as he walked.
Not rushed.
Not hesitant.
Steady.
"…Visibility, huh."
A small smirk formed on his face.
"Alright."
His eyes sharpened slightly.
"Let's give them something to look at."