Three days had passed since the meeting with the matriarch of the Gremory family.
As soon as she left the mansion that day, Venelana returned immediately to the main Gremory residence. There, she met with her husband and explained every detail of the agreement—from the profit division to the magical contract that formally placed her directly under Alear's authority for one year as his secretary.
According to the servants' accounts, the conversation was… intense.
But in the end, as she had already expected, he gave in.
They had no better alternative.
The following day, shortly after noon, Venelana reappeared at the Häagenti family mansion, beginning her new life as the secretary of an exceptionally talented young Devil who was the lord of two Noble Families and the fiancé of one of the current Four Satans. From that moment on, her routine underwent a decisive change: during the week, she began residing regularly at the mansion, fully integrating into its environment and the responsibilities of the position. She only returned to her own home on weekends, maintaining social appearances and handling internal family matters with her usual discretion.
Beyond that, her entire life now revolved around her new role. She dedicated herself rigorously to the position, gradually molding herself into the image of an impeccable secretary. Every detail—from document organization to schedule management and anticipating needs—was executed with meticulous precision. More than simply following orders, she came to deeply understand the workings of the mansion and her master's interests, striving to make herself indispensable to him.
On the other hand, Alear's life became considerably easier after Venelana took over the administration of the Gäap family territory—a domain that, sooner or later, would have fallen under his authority anyway, possibly taken from the Gremory if the agreement between the parties had not been reached. So, in practice, nothing had really changed. Venelana's presence brought efficiency and stability to the administration, allowing him to direct his attention to other matters without being overwhelmed by operational tasks. Even so, he imposed one clear condition: every decision of significant relevance had to pass, without exception, through his personal approval.
Fortunately, this requirement had not yet proven to be a burden. With nearly two centuries of consolidated administrative structure, the territory already operated on solid and well-organized foundations. As a result, no decisions of great magnitude had arisen that required his direct intervention, allowing the transition of responsibilities to occur smoothly and without significant unforeseen issues…
Although he no longer needed to handle day-to-day administration directly, he still carried a considerable load of responsibilities. Every morning, he dedicated the first hours of the day to reading reports, ensuring he remained fully informed before any other activity. At the same time, he deepened his studies in politics—a field in which he still had much to learn, but where his progress was considerably accelerated thanks to Venelana's guidance. With her support, he prepared himself not to be swallowed by the "sharks" that dominated the complex and highly competitive landscape of the Underworld.
After lunch, he usually devoted the entire afternoon to physical training, strengthening his body with the same discipline he applied to his mind. During this period, he also had to grow accustomed to Venelana's constant presence. Far from limiting herself to her formal role, she occasionally teased him subtly, offered him water, or even relaxed his shoulders with brief massages. The interaction between the two was becoming increasingly natural, marked by conversations that went beyond politics and touched on more personal aspects…
At night, he turned entirely to his own power, dedicating himself to training his Lineage Traits and mastering his two Longinus. He also trained in [Bajiquan].
It was by maintaining this well-defined routine—mornings devoted to responsibilities and study, afternoons to the body, and nights to his powers—that time advanced almost imperceptibly…
.
.
.
.
.
Alear kept his body perfectly aligned, supported solely by the strength of his arms while the cold snow pressed against his exposed skin. Each push-up was executed with absolute precision, without wasted movement, as if his body were a perfectly calibrated machine. The vapor of his breath rose in small white clouds, dissipating into the freezing air as he maintained a steady rhythm. Nine hundred ninety-eight… nine hundred ninety-nine… one thousand.
On the final repetition, he didn't simply collapse or relax. With refined control, he propelled his body backward, spinning lightly in the air before landing firmly on his feet, the snow yielding under the controlled impact. His right arm moved in a slight swing, dissipating accumulated tension, as he released a low sigh. The contrast between the intense cold around him and the heat of his own body created an almost strange yet already familiar sensation.
His eyes scanned the white, silent horizon.
"It's strange to have an entire world under my control, but in cases like training, it's really useful. I really was lucky to have Innovate Clear as my second Longinus…"
He murmured calmly, letting the cold air escape his lips as he raised his hand in front of his face.
"Of course, besides training, I can use this place for other things…"
With a slight movement of his fingers, a translucent interface appeared before him, as if projected directly into space.
______________________________
[Fate Gacha]
[Daily Invocations: 1]
[Pool: Nasuverse]
_______________________________
He narrowed his eyes for a moment, letting out a sigh.
"For example… using my daily roll…"
Over the past three days, the results had been, at best, disappointing: Kotomine Kirei's curry, Gilgamesh's maid outfit, and finally, he had obtained a hamburger that belonged to Artoria and increased her hatred toward him by fifty percent if eaten… His expression became momentarily stranger, as if he were still trying to process the existence of that item.
Well, it wasn't as if he expected something grand by using his daily invocation. On the contrary, considering his track record, the most likely outcome was receiving another completely useless item or, at best, something of extremely specific situational value…
"Seriously…" He shook his head. "I really don't know why I have this ability. I've gotten so many useless things in the last few days that I'm starting to lose any hope of getting something good…"
Even so…
His eyes focused on the interface.
"But statistically speaking… a bad streak increases the probability of something better appearing…"
He knew that wasn't exactly how probability worked. Gacha didn't follow "fairness," only distribution. Still, the mere act of rationalizing it was enough to justify the attempt.
Without hesitating further, he activated the roll.
___________________
[Invocation Successful!]
[Technique Obtained: Hiken - Tsubame Gaeshi]
[Description: Secret Sword: Swallow Reversal (Tsubame Gaeshi) is the legendary technique attributed to the swordsman Sasaki Kojirō, famous for its supposed ability to slay a swallow in mid-flight. It is a skill that has reached the status of "Mystery" despite being purely the product of human technique, attaining a level comparable to the Noble Phantasms of Servants. Although it is neither a magical phenomenon nor a supernatural power in the traditional sense, Tsubame Gaeshi achieves such a degree of technical perfection that it approaches absolute mastery, described as something that "surpasses even Servants." Its execution consists of the simultaneous manifestation of three cutting trajectories that surround the opponent from different angles, forming an "inevitable prison" with no possibility of defense or evasion. Although Kojirō himself describes the strike as mere successive attacks performed at extreme speed, its true nature involves a distortion of physical laws. The attack begins with a first perceptible cut, immediately followed by two additional cuts that occur simultaneously and overlapped, ignoring the limitations of time and space. As a result, the target is struck by three blows from distinct directions in the same instant, transcending conventional concepts such as speed, precision, or combat technique. Tsubame Gaeshi therefore represents the absolute pinnacle of human martial skill pushed to its conceptual limit.]
___________________
"Wait…? I just got Kojirō's supreme technique?"
The same one he had tried to learn in his previous life…?
Alear blinked, staring at the interface in disbelief.
In his previous life, he had trained directly with the man—or rather, with the Servant who carried the name and soul of the legendary swordsman. Sasaki had taught him all the fundamentals of his art: foot positioning, breathing, the concept of "three strikes in one." Even so, despite all his talent, he had never managed to reproduce the technique in its true form. Only an imperfect, incomplete version—something that barely deserved to be called "Tsubame Gaeshi."
Now, however, he had the chance to obtain the complete version.
Of course he didn't hesitate. Without a second thought, he selected integration.
In the next instant, it ceased to be a "prize" and became pure knowledge, etched directly into his soul. It was as if he had spent decades perfecting that technique—as if he were its very creator.
His muscles "remembered" movements they had never performed. His breathing automatically adjusted to a hidden, impossibly precise rhythm.
He closed his eyes for a second, allowing the sensation to stabilize. When the assimilation finished, he opened them again.
"Looks like… I got a bit lucky this time…" he murmured to himself, a rare and genuine smile curving his lips.
With a minimal, almost casual gesture, he closed his fingers around empty air.
The air in front of him rippled like water being cut. Particles of cold white light condensed instantly, taking shape in less than a second. A perfect katana materialized in his right hand—straight silver blade, subtle hamon like snow falling on polished steel, tsuka wrapped in black leather and white silk, all with deadly simplicity.
He spun the sword once, testing its perfect balance. There was no unnecessary weight, no vibration. It felt like a natural extension of his arm.
"Let's see if it really works…" he said, his tone almost amused.
His rose-magenta eyes focused on an empty point ahead, but in his mind he saw a swallow flying in perfect zigzag—and he executed his technique.
Another notable aspect of "Tsubame Gaeshi" is its execution: the swordsman does not assume a formal stance before activating it. The attack is triggered almost casually, with a simple raising of the blade followed by an immediate motion, reinforcing the idea that the technique is completely integrated into his very being…
The first cut was visible—a clean, rapid arc that sliced through the freezing air with a sharp whistle.
But before the motion even finished, two others appeared simultaneously, coming from impossible angles.
Three perfect blades, overlapped in the same instant.
The air around him seemed to bend. The snow was sliced into particles so fine it turned into a glittering diamond mist. The ground gained three deep, simultaneous furrows that crossed exactly at the center of the imaginary point where the "swallow" would have been. The cuts were so precise that there was no irregularity—only straight, perfect lines that looked as though drawn by a god of geometry. The sound came with delay: a triple crack, as if space itself had been torn and then stitched back together…
Alear slowly lowered the sword.
The katana evaporated into particles of light that returned to the nothingness from which they came. He remained silent for a few seconds, simply staring at the void where the cuts had occurred. Then he let out a low, almost incredulous laugh.
"…Perfect. But that's enough for today…" he murmured to himself, his tone calm, almost satisfied.
With a simple gesture of his left hand, the world around him began to unravel. The snow stopped falling. The white horizon rippled like water being drained. The intense cold evaporated in seconds, replaced by the soft, familiar warmth of the Häagenti mansion…
When the transition ended, Alear was back in his room.
His bare feet touched the soft Persian carpet, but his body still carried remnants of his training in his world: snowflakes clinging to his shoulders, in his damp hair, on his bare back. Small cold puddles immediately formed on the polished wooden floor where the snow melted, staining the dark varnish.
He didn't even look down.
With a lazy wave of his hand, he invoked a small surge of [Demonic Power]: a subtle circle of rose-magenta runes spun around his body for an instant. The snow evaporated instantly, turning into vapor that rose and disappeared into the air. His skin returned to a dry, warm state in less than a second. Even his damp hair dried and arranged itself, falling in perfectly aligned strands across his forehead…
Alear walked to the built-in wardrobe. He opened the double doors without ceremony and grabbed the first pieces he found: a tight black Egyptian cotton T-shirt, dark gray sweatpants, and a pair of soft slippers. He dressed with economical movements—unhurried, yet without wasting time.
When he finished, he threw himself onto the bed with a long, satisfied sigh. The mattress yielded softly under his weight, the silk sheets enveloping him like a cold caress. He crossed his arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling carved with ancient Häagenti family crests.
Over the past three days, he had followed a rigorous routine: a thousand daily repetitions of every exercise from Scáthach's infernal training regimen—one that would have made her proud. The result was a slight but perceptible increase in all his physical attributes compared to what he had possessed before. His disciplined diet and a secret technique designed to accelerate metabolism had also contributed significantly to this progress. Still, according to his own calculations, it would take at least two full years to recover the same level of physical conditioning he had in his previous life.
Regarding his two Longinus, he had made only modest progress with [Zenith Tempest]. With [Innovate Clear], the situation was somewhat different: he had limited himself to using it for training and a few tests, exploring its "personifying God" capabilities in this world. Among those applications was the creation of items, such as the katana he had used to test [Tsubame Gaeshi], but nothing that could be considered a significant breakthrough.
As for his unique Lineage abilities—[Transmutation], [Serpent of the End], and [Transposition]—those were the ones he had become most familiar with. The reason was simple: [Transmutation] directly recalled the alchemy of his previous life. He had already reached the pinnacle of what an Atlas Alchemist could become, so using it felt almost instinctive. In fact, manipulating organic and inorganic matter through Demonic Power was even simpler than before thanks to this "trait." The only exception was [Self-Transmutation]. According to Ajuka, it had been precisely that ability that had kept him alive. If he could reproduce it, reconstructing and enhancing his own body through "biological manipulation" would be trivial—but for now, he still had to rely on conventional training methods.
[Serpent of the End], in turn, granted absolute dominion over water, along with various other applications. At the moment, he could already use some of them in combat, but nothing truly impressive. As for [Transposition], it functioned, in essence, as teleportation within his field of vision. It was a relatively easy skill to use, especially since, in his previous life, his Magecraft had possessed a similar capability, allowing him to apply it in combat without great difficulty. Still, although [Transposition] possessed far more advanced uses, he did not yet have sufficient mastery to explore them at that moment.
In the end, the first week had served only to recover his body and establish a training foundation. The following three days had been dedicated to creating his own routine and taking the first steps toward the power he sought. In other words… very little time had passed since he had truly begun training. Although he was already showing some progress, he was still far from being able to face a Supreme-Class Devil—let alone the current Four Satans…
The Supreme Class represented the pinnacle a Devil could reach, whether through innate talent or years of training. Those who attained that level received titles in the Underworld—Satan, Great King, King, Archduke, Duke, or Prince—positions that reflected not only status but overwhelming power.
As for his current strength, he was most likely at the level of a High-Class Devil. Even so… taking Rias, Sona, and others from the original story as reference, he saw no difficulty in defeating someone at that level. His Mystic Eyes granted him an absurd advantage in manipulating [Demonic Power], allowing him to use any magic with near-absolute efficiency and an almost unlimited number of times. Moreover, he carried magical knowledge from a far more advanced world, enabling him to execute complex spells with ease. After all, in that world, magic depended essentially on the ability to imagine and visualize—something trivial for him. In fact, it was quite likely that he would reach a much higher level in magical mastery than he had in his previous world.
And that was without even considering his most lethal trump card.
Now, with Kojirō's supreme technique in his arsenal, a single opportunity—an instant of proximity—was all he needed to deliver the strike and end the fight before the opponent even had a chance to react.
His greatest weakness at the moment was still his own body.
He needed to strengthen it. By his calculations, it would take at least six months of infernal training to reach minimally decent physical attributes.
A yawn escaped his lips—long, lazy, almost feline. As he grew tired from training as usual, he rolled onto his side and pulled the black comforter over his body.
His eyes closed.
The room fell silent as he slowly drifted off to sleep.
___________________
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