Seekvaira felt her heart race in her chest, each beat echoing like a deafening alarm in her mind. Outwardly, however, she remained impeccable, posture straight and expression calm. Years of aristocratic discipline prevented her from losing her composure easily, but internally, her thoughts collided in a spiral of pure panic.
This couldn't be happening. A direct attack, in the middle of Agreas… and precisely against Alear G. Häagenti, the man who had just been promised to her in marriage....
Besides being seen as someone incompetent and incapable of protecting her husband, if Alear were injured or worse, killed, within the territory of the Agares Family during a formal visit, the political impact would be devastating. The most obvious interpretation for the other noble houses would be betrayal or, at the very least, grotesque incompetence. A guest of that level, heir to ancient bloodlines, bearer of a Longinus, attacked in the heart of her domain… this would not be seen as an accident. It would be treated as weakness or conspiracy.
Zekram Bael and the Great King's faction would not let it pass. On the contrary, they would use the incident as a political tool, pressuring the Agares Family to the limit, exploiting any opening to weaken them. And then there was Serafall Leviathan, one of the Four Great Satans and Alear's official fiancée. Even if her reaction were not immediately hostile, the mere weight of her position would already be enough to generate overwhelming pressure. A single gesture, an implication… and the entire political balance could tilt against them.
At that moment, she understood with brutal clarity: this was the kind of event capable of triggering a large-scale crisis and, if not contained immediately, could drag her entire family into collapse.
She pressed her fingers against the fabric of her skirt, trying to contain the slight tremor that insisted on betraying her.
Her mind was already racing ahead, calculating possibilities, assessing risks, searching for a response. Standing still was not an option, not when all of this directly involved her future, her position, and above all, the man to whom she had just been promised. Even if Alear had ordered her to remain there, blindly obeying, in that context, could be interpreted as weakness. And weakness, for someone in her position, was something she could not afford to show.
The decision to act came quickly, almost instinctively. If he was to be her husband, then fighting by his side was not just a choice, it was a duty. Remaining passive while he faced an attack in Agares territory would be the kind of stain that would never fade.
However, at the exact moment her body prepared to move, something made her stop.
She realized that… she didn't need to help at all.
She was shocked to see just how strong he was.....
.
.
.
.
.
Alear hovered above the one who would, in the future, be his wife. Around them, the five hooded assassins moved in perfect synchrony, closing in from all directions.
One of them, more heavily built, advanced directly into close combat. His fists were enveloped in an intense purple light, a rudimentary yet effective manifestation of concentrated [Demonic Power] to amplify the force of his blows.
Alear was surprised for a brief moment. Not by the technique itself, but by the opponent's speed, which was extraordinarily fast! But he soon realized the real problem: it wasn't the enemy exceeding his expectations, it was his own body that still couldn't keep up with the reaction speed of his mind. Compared to his past life, he was still physically slow… weak.
He narrowly dodged a sequence of blows, feeling the wind slice through the air near his face. Without hesitation, he made a decision.
He activated his Magecraft of [Reinforcement].
[Reinforcement] is considered the most difficult form of magic in his world, as its purpose is to push an existing base to its absolute limit. It is the foundation of all magical arts that enhance the existence of a target through the infusion of magical energy. However, since there is no clear definition of how far something can be enhanced, reinforcements approaching omnipotence are extremely rare. In essence, reinforcing is like adding something to an object that is already complete; if the execution fails, the target may reject this interference, treating it as a poison. Success depends on a deep understanding of the internal structure of the object or being, allowing the caster to fill its gaps with magical energy in a stable manner.
Reinforcing the "function" or "purpose" of something means enhancing its inherent properties: the edge of a knife can become sharper, the nutritional value of food can be increased, and in the case of living beings, their physical strength and endurance can be elevated. However, it is impossible to reinforce vague or poorly defined concepts.... Among all applications, reinforcing living beings is the most complex. This is because living organisms naturally resist the invasion of magical energy, making the process unstable and difficult to control. When applied to one's own body, Reinforcement allows the caster to enhance their physical capabilities, enabling feats of strength, speed, and agility beyond human limits. A body reinforced with magical energy is also capable of directly interacting with spiritual entities and can even allow the user to sustain themselves for long periods without basic needs such as food or sleep.
Unlike the conventional method, he did not need to convert his Od into Magical Energy to then structure the technique. He simply ignored this intermediate process. He shaped the effect directly through his own [Demonic Power], mentally reproducing the final result and applying it to his body with precision. By eliminating unnecessary steps, he drastically reduced the complexity of execution and, consequently, the chances of failure. The flow was cleaner, more direct… and far more efficient.
Even without this adaptation, the result would hardly be inferior. In his previous life, he had taken Reinforcement Magecraft to a level close to perfection, refining every detail to the limit of what the technique allowed.
In a single instant, his body was elevated to the maximum he could sustain at that moment. There was no excess, no waste, only the exact application necessary to reach the peak of his current capacity.
Now, this was more like it.
The large man advanced again, unleashing a brutal sequence of attacks. This time, Alear moved with complete fluidity, his body responding exactly as his mind commanded.
At the precise moment, he counterattacked.
Using [Bajiquan], he delivered two explosive and precise strikes: one to the chest, the other to the chin.
The impact was devastating.
The Devil's body was launched like a projectile, tearing through space before violently colliding with one of the nearby buildings. Part of the façade gave way upon impact, collapsing amid a dense cloud of dust and debris.
The other four did not hesitate. They took advantage of the fraction of a second created by the previous impact and launched a coordinated barrage of magical projectiles, each channeling a distinct element—scorching fire, crackling lightning, and dense shadows that distorted the very space around them. Their trajectories converged, sealing off any conventional escape route.
Alear did not move in the traditional sense.
He simply ceased to be there.
[Transposition] was activated without any perceptible delay. His body vanished from the point of impact at the exact moment the attacks collided and reappeared above one of the casters, swapping places with the "air" itself—a more advanced application of the technique—placing him in the perfect position for execution.
His hand glowed for a single instant.
The strike fell.
The Devil's head exploded under the direct impact of an absurd concentration of [Demonic Power], blood scattering through the air before the body could even process what had happened. The rest fell inert, heavy, like an object without purpose....
This was a refined application of Bajiquan combined with atomic-level energy control granted by his Mystic Eyes. Instead of dispersing power, he condensed it into a single point, shaping it into a kind of invisible "drill" of [Demonic Power]. An absolute piercing attack, designed to break through any defense before it could even react.
The remaining three froze for an instant—too short to be called hesitation, but enough to break the perfect rhythm of their coordination.
Then the large man emerged from the rubble.
Covered in blood and dust, his body still standing firm despite the previous impact, he charged forward with a roar filled with pure fury:
"I'm going to kill you, you bastard!"
"Idiot! Don't approach alone!" one of the others shouted, too late.
A white aura enveloped the man's body for a brief moment—a crude reinforcement, likely focused on durability and a burst of momentary strength.
He charged.
Alear remained where he was. The blows came in a chaotic sequence, heavy and savage. He blocked and dodged what he could, but one broke through his defense and struck his abdomen directly.
The impact reverberated.
The air was forced out of his lungs as his body was thrown backward, sliding several meters through the air. A mouthful of blood escaped his lips.
Silence.
He stopped.
With the same calm as before, he raised his hand to his mouth and wiped the blood away with the back of it, keeping his gaze fixed on his opponent. His Mystic Eyes allowed him to perceive everything as if time had slowed down, every movement clear and predictable. However, his body could not keep up with that perception—it reacted slowly, almost sluggishly by comparison. His reflexes were far ahead, but his physique, even reinforced, still left much to be desired. This discrepancy between perception and execution became the opening his opponent exploited… and it was exactly what led him to take that hit.
A cold smile formed.
"Not bad."
Before the large man could react, Alear activated [Transposition] again, switching places with the "air" directly in front of him.
Without unnecessary movement, his hand advanced and touched the man's chest.
For a moment… nothing happened.
Then, a perfect structure formed around the Devil's body—a translucent sphere, thin as glass, completely isolating the space around him.
Inside it, countless lightning discharges exploded simultaneously, colliding with each other within the confined space, with no escape route. The energy accumulated, multiplied, fed upon itself. The scream didn't even have time to fully form. In less than two seconds, the body was reduced to ashes.
The sphere collapsed the next instant, shattering into particles of energy that dissipated into the air, leaving behind only a trail of dark smoke… and the empty space where an enemy once stood.
Alear floated in the air, blood still running from the corner of his mouth, but his magenta-pink eyes shone with a dangerous calm.
Three remained.
The three remaining assassins hesitated for a fraction of a second, their perfect coordination broken by the swift deaths of two of their comrades. But they did not retreat. On the contrary, their auras intensified, their black robes rippling in the wind generated by [Demonic Power].
Alear did not wait.
He slowly raised his right hand, as if greeting the sky, activating his [Zenith Tempest] at full power.
The air around him changed instantly.
Dense black clouds materialized out of nowhere above the plaza, swallowing the golden light of the Underworld's morning. The wind howled, carrying a biting chill. Lightning began to dance between the clouds, illuminating the hidden faces of the assassins with violent white flashes. Two of the Devils tried to react. One launched a wave of flames toward Alear, while the other summoned shadow spears that sliced through space like living blades.
Alear didn't even need to move.
A gust of wind charged with electricity burst from the clouds, intercepting the attacks midair. The flames were scattered as if they were smoke, and the shadow spears disintegrated into dark particles. Then, two thick bolts of lightning descended simultaneously, precise as divine arrows.
The first struck the flame-wielding Devil directly. His body convulsed violently as the electricity burned him from the inside, carbonizing him before he even hit the ground. The second bolt struck the shadow caster in the shoulder, tearing a guttural scream from him as he was hurled downward, slamming into the plaza floor with a dry crash.
Now only one remained.
The last assassin, clearly the strongest of the group, did not flee. On the contrary, his aura exploded into an overwhelming pressure, far denser and more refined than the others.
He advanced.
Not with brutal punches like the first, but with refined speed and technique. His strikes were precise, filled with pure killing intent, each movement targeting vital points. Alear blocked the first, dodged the second, but the third forced him to retreat through the air.
For a few seconds, the two exchanged blows midair at a ferocious pace. Fist against fist, [Demonic Power] against [Demonic Power]. The last assassin was not just strong—he had real combat experience. His attacks were fluid, without waste, and he could predict part of Alear's movements.
Alear felt another strike graze his side, opening a shallow cut. Blood flowed again, but he didn't care and lunged at the assassin using the best of his abilities.
The two collided once more in the air, exchanging a rapid sequence of blows. Alear used [Reinforcement] to keep his body at its limit, but the opponent was persistent, adapting to his rhythm.
The assassin saw the opening.
With a sudden movement, he spun his body and delivered a spinning kick charged with concentrated [Demonic Power], striking Alear directly in the flank.
The impact was brutal—bones creaked, skin tore.
Alear spat another mouthful of blood, his body thrown backward like a ragdoll.
Pain exploded along his left side, hot and searing.
But he didn't fall.
Instead of retreating, he used the very momentum of the blow to spin in the air, turning the pain into fuel. His eyes gleamed with cold resolve—now! Before the assassin could reposition himself, Alear activated his [Transposition] once more. He appeared behind him, so close that the man's hood nearly brushed his face.
His right hand touched the assassin's back.
A perfect bubble formed around the enemy's entire body.
Inside it, the air condensed into unbearable pressure, followed by a cascade of concentrated lightning strikes. The assassin barely had time to scream. The energy disintegrated him from the inside out, turning flesh, bones, and robes into ashes that scattered like black snow when the bubble burst.
Silence.
Alear floated for a second, breathing heavily, blood running down his chin and from the deep cut on his flank. The sky above the plaza still held dark clouds, isolated lightning dancing between them.
He quickly made a gesture with his hand and restored the city's weather to normal.
On the ground, Seekvaira did not wait.
Her own bat wings unfolded with a soft snap. She flew toward him in a swift motion, her thigh-high boots touching the air as if the wind itself propelled her. Her arms wrapped around his waist, supporting his weight without hesitation.
"Alear! Are you alright?!" Her voice came out louder than intended, her usual coldness cracking for a moment. Her pink eyes behind her glasses were wide, her face pale, but her hands were firm against his body, feeling the warmth of the blood running down.
Alear blinked, surprised by her speed, but a smile appeared on his lips.
"…They were a bit stronger than I originally thought. But nothing I couldn't handle. I'm just a little injured because I got careless for a moment, don't worry...."
"Let's go down…" Seekvaira said, her voice still carrying tension, but already regaining part of her aristocratic composure.
Alear accepted her help without resistance. He placed an arm around her shoulders, allowing Seekvaira to guide the descent. Both of their bat wings folded back with a soft, dry sound the moment their feet touched the plaza ground, now marked by craters, ashes, and debris.
As soon as they landed, Seekvaira stepped back, but kept her hands close to his body, ready to support him if needed. Her pink eyes quickly scanned his visible injuries, and a shadow of guilt crossed her face.
"…I'm sorry...." she said, her voice low and controlled, but with a note of sincerity that she rarely let show: "For a moment, I… thought you didn't need help. That was my mistake...."
Alear slowly shook his head, once again wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. A tired but genuine smile curved his lips.
"Don't apologize, Seekvaira. You did the right thing. After all, you did what I asked you to...."
Before she could respond, the sound of wings beating and hurried footsteps echoed through the plaza. A group of uniformed Devils—guards and servants of the Agares Family—emerged from various directions. Their faces were pale with shock at the sight of the destruction.
"Lady Agares!" exclaimed the captain of the guard, a middle-aged demon with an alarmed expression, quickly kneeling before her. The others followed almost immediately. "What happened here?! We heard explosions and sensed a massive disturbance in Demonic Power!"
Seekvaira straightened her posture instantly. The hesitation and concern from seconds before vanished completely, replaced by the cold authority of an Agares heir. Her pink eyes narrowed behind her glasses, and her voice came out sharp as a blade.
"An attack. Five assassins targeted our guest, the Lord of House Gäap and House Häagenti, in the middle of Agreas, at the heart of Agares territory. And where were you? Where was the security that was supposed to protect not only our family, but also guests of such importance? A direct attack like this, without any prior warning… this is unacceptable...."
The captain swallowed hard, sweat running down his forehead.
"Lady Agares, we… received no signal of intrusion. The barriers were active and—"
"And clearly failed," she interrupted coldly. "Five assassins managed to infiltrate...."
The guards lowered their heads even further, a heavy silence falling over the group. Seekvaira continued, without raising her tone, but each word carried reprimand:
"I want a full report in one hour. Who these assassins were, how they entered, what failures occurred in the barriers and security protocols. And mobilize teams to clean this plaza immediately....."
After she finished speaking with the guards, her tone still cold and sharp, yet controlled, the Devils quickly stood and dispersed in different directions to carry out the orders with nervous efficiency. The plaza, once peaceful, now resembled a miniature battlefield, and the urgency to restore order was palpable.
She then turned to Alear, her expression softening just enough for him to notice the genuine concern behind the aristocratic mask. Her pink eyes assessed him once more, and she slightly furrowed her brow.
"Let's go back…," she said, her voice lower now, meant only for him. "My father's Bishop is extremely skilled in healing. He will take care of your injuries without leaving scars or side effects. We can't leave you like this for long… especially after an incident like this...."
Alear nodded calmly.
"Alright. Let's go...."
___________________
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