"Riiiiiser!" Rigal stormed into the training arena as I stretched, faux fuming.
Ruval's old arena, freshly refurbished and rebuilt for our special Sunday sessions after gathering dust for decades, and enchanted with the same barrier and environmental tech made for the actual rating games- something that genuinely astonished me, despite having lived in this world and this family's lifestyle for the past ten years.
This level of enchantment was by no means cheap, even for a family such as ours. Dad really was pouring it all into the hope for our future greatness huh?
Well, then again, it's not so much hope and rather, more a certainty at this point.
"Heyo~" I waved lightly, standing back up and Rigal snapped.
"Don't 'Heyo' me. What were you thinking? Why do you always have to pull some stunt or-" He sputtered over his words, and I got in a word edgewise.
"Dad already chewed me out." I groaned, "You don't need to digest the leftovers."
"Why would you do such a thing?" Rigal all but pleaded, complete with the bird hands- heh, get it?- and I'll admit, it was kind of funny to see him like that.
"Eh, I just wanted to piss dad off." I shrugged.
"And as usual, you overachieved." Rigal punched me hard in the shoulder.
"Ow, sheesh. Their threats don't have teeth you know."
"What?" He muttered, confused.
"The nobles." I pointed out what he already knew, "They're hounding you for the magical girl wands, yes? Threatening to pull support or whatever else they have in their pathetic little playbooks… they're all bark and no bit. Toothless. You really think they can afford to not deal with us? You think they have the budget?"
"You knew this would happen- of course you knew. You're a fucking genius. Why am I even surprised at this point?" he threw up his hands in the air in exasperation.
"Yeah, why are you surprised? I thought you were used to this by now, Mr. Big Shot CEO? Don't you deal with these folk on the daily?"
"Yeah, when I know what they want. When I have my army of secretaries drafting an entire war agenda around their every move. Not this shit… blindisiding me with some nonsense about Ultimate Class magic tools?"
"Ooh, the rumour mill works fast~" I preened with joy, as any artisan would, with pride in their work.
"Yes, that tends to happen when a six year old girl barely in Middle Class puts a hole through the Strongest Rook in the Underworld."
"Oh please. It was mild trauma at best. Maybe a little bruising. A few drops of blood at most. Nothing too serious. He'll recover in a day or two."
Rigal looked at me like I had grown a second head.
"That is a being made to rival Gods. With a capital G. And your wand made him bleed. Even if he went easy on you, this… No wonder this game of chinese telephone got out of hand- no, I can't even call it that." He rubbed his temples, brows furrowed like the hills of the Shire, "Why is it that when you pull off something that will go down in history, I'm the last one to hear of it?"
"Come on now, look at the bright side. The silver lining. You get the credit for it. A historic achievement. All yours brother. When does a second son get their hands on such an opportunity? Cherish it." I patted his shoulders, with a mischievous grin.
"And all the mess that comes with it? Mine to deal with as well, isn't it?" He asked, annoyed.
"No pain, no gain~" I teased and I could just see the veins throbbing on his forehead.
Oh, Rigal, who told you to be so bulliable?
Finally, he let out a long, weary sigh of resignation.
"Gimme." He extended a hand, knowing me all too well, and I smiled, handing him a third wand I had made, in the shape of a tie, in tasteful silk, coated in crystal, with a second magic core hidden in the premade knot. And of course, printed with the rubber ducks in a most obnoxious, garish yellow.
Yes. It was a ducky tie. Like one made by a kindergartner. Because it was.
A drawing one of my nephews made in school, that Ruval was more than happy to retire from his fridge upon learning of my plans. And worst of all…
"A clip-on tie? Really, Riser?" His face was the picture of disgust as held the 'wand' like a dity diaper, an arm's length away.
A cardinal sin for someone so suave and fashionable. A clip-on tie.
"It's for- pfft- easy access…" I could barely contain my laughter seeing his reaction and he shot me the dirtiest glare… Oh, if looks could kill.
"You're feeling real proud of yourself, aren't you?" His mouth twitched in anger.
"Very." I replied shamelessly.
Rigal shook his head.
"No, you know what? I'll wear it, just so you don't get the last laugh."
"Yes… let the hate flow through you~" I wiggled my finger at him with panache and he just flipped me off.
"Screw you too, Riser."
"Love you too~" I replied and he finally cracked the faintest smile, as he changed out of his suit and into a tracksuit.
"Wait, you're staying for the training?"
He quirked a queer eyebrow at me.
"Yes?"
Colour me surprised. He's actually serious!
"To be honest, I didn't think you were going to make it. What, you couldn't think of any excuses?"
Rigal slowed down to a halt and kicked a pebble into the distance with muffled frustration.
"Ruval was… very convincing." Rigal's face puckled like a plum, and I chuckled.
"Come freely or be dragged huh?"
"Kicking and screaming." Rigal sighed wearily.
"Eh, some training could do you good." I shrugged, "How long do you plan on being stuck at High Class anyway?"
"I'll improve gradually. We don't exactly need to train to get stronger. Every year I live, every contract I make, I grow stronger steadily."
Excuses.
He was right in that devils grew stronger, the longer they lived, even if they didn't make any contracts. That was why so many of those old monsters sleeping under the pillar clans were still revered by their descendants. It was why the pillar clans still held so much power and prestige.
Those ancestral devils, the ones that fought in the old war, the first war between heaven and hell. They had lived for thousands of years and stood at the peak of Ultimate Class.
There weren't too many of them left, even among the pillar clans, however. It was why so many clans relied on Zekram, why he could strongarm them into his fold. The same reason he allowed Venelana to marry into the Gremorys. Runeas was one of the few ancestors still alive. That alone lent the Gremorys prestige, even before Sirzechs was born.
"Oh please. We both know you've made enough contracts to reach mid Ultimate Class and yet, here you are." I wagged a finger at him, judgingly, "What you need is a good thrashing or two. It did wonders for me."
That utterly humiliating, one sided beatdown Tannin laid down on me was the only reason I managed to climb up to Ultimate Class proper this quickly.
"You need perspective. To know the difference between you and them. To witness the level of power you want to reach. Our magic is the power of imagination. If you can't imagine being that strong, you won't be able to reach it until long past due.
Sure, you'll get there eventually, even without it but only by the time that having such power becomes normal for you. Until being able to wield Ultimate Class demonic power is second nature, easy as breathing. In a hundred years or so.
Another hundred years, wasted. That is your choice, Rigal. Face your fears and grow, or rot where you stand for another century or two."
"Tch." He clicked his tongue. I could see my words had hit their mark, and sorely at that.
"I know you know this. But I would be failing my duty to you if I didn't at least remind you. This is a golden age for the Phenex clan, Rigal, and a rising tide lifts all boats. Rise with us. Please."
"I get it." Rigal let out a foul breath he had been holding and ran a hand through his luxuriant, pale golden hair, as he chuckled deprecatingly, "To think I've fallen so low, a ten year old has to remind me." He looked back at me, his eyes pained and vulnerable, "I have always been afraid, you know, even before Tannin… of never matching up to Ruval, of not being good enough, of… of so many things. And second sons… we don't always amount to much. Its better than being a commoner, I used to tell myself, but that's not who you compare yourself to, do you? That's why it's called 'Keeping up with the Joneses' and not 'Keeping up with redneck Cletus'. And Ruval, he's always been so…"
He hung on that word.
"Cool?" I offered.
"Strong." He said, the word heavy on his tongue, "Ruval was born strong. Not like us, you and me. I used to think if I did everything I could, and just… just ran alongside him, just catwalked his footsteps, somehow, someday, I'd be there, standing in the light, by his side. It wasn't Tannin you know, that broke me. It was the look in Ruval's eyes, when I didn't stand up again. When I didn't fight back. When I couldn't…" Tears welled up in his eyes, and flash boiled off of his skin, straight to steam, "I couldn't stand to see that look in his eyes. I looked up to him. And I failed him. His expectations."
I wrapped an arm around him, comfortingly.
"And you know the worst part?" He asked, his voice shaking, "He didn't say a word about it. Nothing. He didn't tease me. He didn't talk to me. He simply disappeared. Like I wasn't worth talking to. Like-"
"You know that's not why-" I cut him off, "He was training, to avenge your loss. He was-"
"I know, Riser. I know. He acted on it in his own way for me. But that doesn't change how I felt then. In fact, it was even worse after, when he finally beat Tannin. He looked back at me and smiled, that bright, happy smile. And it pricked me, like a thorn. It shouldn't have, Riser, but it did. Why can't I be like him? I thought. Why can I never measure up? And I convinced myself it was because I was born weak. That I was untalented. Not like him. Never like him. I was simply useless."
"You're not-"
"I know, Riser. But as I said. I certainly felt like it. Like I would never be strong enough, so in my infinite wisdom," He spoke, voice dripping with self-deprecation, "I decided that if I can't get better at fighting, if I can't stand by his side in the light, then I could at least support him from the shadows. To make him, to make Dad proud. To find some use for my talents, no matter how small. And I gave up on this. On strength."
He wiped his tears, "I was wrong, Riser. You showed me that. You were born the same as me. You fought Tannin too. You got smacked right down. And you stood right back up and ready for another go. Your blood, sweat and tears, your effort, it reignited that little wisp of hope I didn't even know I had, deep in my heart. Maybe I can do it too. Maybe, just maybe, if I gave it one more try. But it wasn't until now, when Ruval forced me to come, when I could see it, that brighter tomorrow you painted for us, with the internet, with this wand, with everything you have done… Until I could imagine it, like you said, that I finally had the courage to step up, once more. Just one more time. That black flame of yours Riser, it showed me what was possible, even for me. So here I am."
He grabbed my hand, firmly, hope in his eyes burning like a passionate flame, and for a moment he seemed… younger somehow, like a man reborn, "For one last time. Thank you, Riser. Truly. You're the best brother a man could ask for."
"Gah! Traitor!" Ruval rolled out from behind the bleachers, pointing accusingly at Rigal, with mock fury, "I thought I was your favourite brother!" He rolled out flat on the ground, "I have been betrayed!"
"Well, if you had better communication skills, you'd have kept your first place." Rigal blew a raspberry at him and Ruval laughed, a full bellied, bellowing laughter that filled the room.
"Sucks to be me then." He smiled, in good jest, and jumped back to his feet, "Now if you're done with this touchy feely homosexual bullshit, how about we get some training done. We haven't got all day!"
I looked down at my watch. Then showed it to him, deadpan.
7:20 a.m.
"We literally do."
Ruval's response was to simply, crack his knuckle. And crack they did, like a thunderbolt.
Show off.
I smiled.
"Alright. How do we do this? Do we spar one at a time, or-"
"Nah. Just come at me. Both of you. Give it your best shot." Tucked one hand behind his back and beckoned with the other like a Kungfu master, "No holds barred, no tactic too far. If you can put so much as a scratch on me, I'll consider it my loss."
"Seriously? There's two of us, and we're not exactly weak, especially with Rigal and his wand now."
"Pfft- yeah. Sure."
"Well, alright. But no whining when we kick your ass."
"Lose. Hah! Maybe if Dad was here too. And even then, just maybe, you'd stand a chance. But just the two of you… no way." He waved his hand dismissively.
"Wanna bet?"
"No. I'll do you one better. I'll show you."
"Show us what?"
"The difference. Between you and me." He smiled and something seemed off. He seemed almost… giddy.
"No way…" I realized it then, "You've reached it, haven't you?"
"Reached what?" Rigal asked, confused.
"Satan Class." Ruval smiled wide, from ear to ear, and boy, was Rigal right about that smile. There's just something about it… No wonder Cleria fell for him. Lady killer.
"Really?" I asked, just to confirm.
"I've just touched it, the same way you had touched Ultimate Class before your fight with Tannin. Another few months, and by the time you reach high Ultimate Class, House Phenex will have a Satan of their own."
"Show me." I could hear my heart beat with excitement, and Rigal was much the same.
"Watch closely." Ruval said, as a burnished, enamel orange glow began to adorn his skin.
Forged In Fire. A strengthening spell, based on the concept of 'Iron forged into battle hardened steel', that made the user nigh invulnerable. But of course, it came with a drawback. Your imagination had to be perfect. You will, like iron. Your faith in your strength, in your steel forged body, should never waver. No matter how hard you're hit, no matter how many times you go down. Because if your will so much as falter for the briefest moment, that conceptual 'steel' turns to 'pig iron' and you can end up permanently deforming your body.
Nothing we couldn't come back from, of course, by cutting off the affected part and regrowing it, but unlike our regular body parts, the pain of regenerating which, with enough practice, we learnt to minimize, this affected part… it was normal.
And it hurt like a normal, non-immortal/regenerating limb. That is to say, it hurt like a motherfucker. And that pain is not something I wanted scarring my psyche and leaving me with phantom limb syndrome, even after regenerating it.
Ruval being a sadist, didn't mind it much, and his unshakeable confidence in himself certainly helped to that end, but I was different.
The keyword being, was.
After having my head blown off for a week straight, I think, maybe I'm ready to try it now.
It was a crucial spell to learn if I wanted to fight in the big leagues after all. A spell that made you invulnerable so long as you had faith in yourself and your toughness.
Maybe, that faith aspect, might translate over even into my plan for divinity. Just more experiments for me to run.
He clanked his hands together and sparks flew, as if off of a fresh forged billed being hammered to perfection.
Again. And again. And again. Until finally, it clinked. Not a crude sound but rather a smooth harmonius one, like a chime.
And he smiled.
Another spell lit up within him.
Hellfire Boost.
A spell that turned our blood to hellfire, boosting our capabilities severalfold. A byproduct of Ruval's attempt to turn himself into hellfire, the same way Sirzechs turns himself into Destruction itself.
Then, of course, it was the classic spells I used.
Hellfire Blitz.
Wings of flame sprouted at his heels. A spell that boosts speed. Ruval's version was based on a chariot racing so fast the drag burnt its wheels. The sun chariot.
It was his way of copying a divine authority's effects.
Mine was simpler. It was based on a rocket's thrusters. Pushing it past the barriers of sound, of space and sky. Breaking through everything, every barrier at light speed.
Both has their merits. Mine was faster and science based, his was more conceptually airtight and steady.
And that was how he completed his triple threat. Strength, speed, endurance.
Finally, he raised an arm to the side, his fists turning to open, flaming claws of sunfire, as he crouched low, like a runner lining up for a sprint, and we both, Rigal and me, wisely got out of his way, just in time for a rich white flame, spotted with flecks of a deep, dark red bloomed on his outstretched arm.
I knew he was going slow, step by step, to show us exactly how he was doing it, so we could better form that image in our minds- the imagine of Satan Class power!
And then, in an instant, almost as if someone had flipped a switch, the world became… colder, as if all the heat in the world had been drawn up, and devoured by his flame. It only then that I noticed it.
I wasn't surprised I hadn't noticed it before, being so focused on Ruval, but now I could see it. The sun was dimming- no, dimmer, as if its radiance had been outstripped and outshone, and the world became darker, if only for a brief moment.
Ruval's face was the picture of concentration, all his attention devoted into that single moment. His clawed hand poised like the scythe of a reaper.
"Blaze Reap"
And then he vanished. No wind, no thundering sonic boom. He simply vanished. And with him, so did the world.
The trees, the grasses, the brushes- not turned to ash, but rather simply sublimated, from solid to plasma to nothing. Obliteration and oblivion for all matter.
The little river, the streams and the lakes, artificially generated on the arena- evaporated into dry beds of dust and soil.
And the dust and earth itself? The flame burned so hot that the mere thermal shock compacted the earth from the pressure differential. Where there should have been a storm of dust and ash was left and barren plane of rammed earth tougher than concrete, melted and solidified and melted again, over and over in an instant of time so thin, it was imperceptible. The entire surface of the world glassed from the sheer heat, down to it's core.
Everything, for miles, and miles- and that was the extent my senses went- burnt away by a flame hotter than the sun, blazing for an instant and then vanishing into the ether.
I gasped for air, my throat choking from the very atmosphere that had been burnt off of the artificial field, and above us, an artificial image of the sun, blazing white and cancerous, in all it's glory.
I took a step forward, threatening to keel over, and even the ground beneath me cracked like glass and shattered.
A world hollowed out by flame. An utter devastation the likes of which I couldn't have imagined with such clarity even in my worst nightmares.
Then, like nothing had happened, the arena reset.
And we fell over gasping, gulping down air like sailors in a desert. Our skin and flesh, began to regenerate, and it was only then that I even noticed it had happened, when the nerve endings that had been vaporized began to regrow over my cracking, ashen bones and I felt… anything, again.
"You two still alive?" He asked, looming over us like a shadow we couldn't yet see, because our eyes hadn't regenerated yet.
"Well, that settles it." He chuckled, "I almost thought I'd have to explain to Dad how I cut half of his legacy down to nothing!"
Grim bastard!
Could have gone easier on us, if nothing else. But of course, I had no mouth to voice that sentiment, only a whistling, bubbling flute of a neck pipe dangling off my spine.
This was the first time I had been so utterly annihilated. Having to regenerate everything down to the bones and blood.
Frankly, if it hadn't been for our magical reinforcements that took the brunt of the aftereffects of his spell, we might have really truly… died.
Once again, I was reminded why I hated training with him. He always went 110% overboard with this stuff.
Though, I suppose, no one can deny the results.
Except maybe Rigal, who was doubled over on the ground, crying literal tears of blood and puking his actual guts out, muttering, "This is why I hate training with you!"
Glad to know he shares my sentiment.
"Welp." I croaked out in a voice huskier than a cowboy who'd smoke a pack a day since age five, "That was… enlightening."
And Ruval smiled.
"I knew you'd get it!" He slapped my newly regenerated back, "You won't tell Mom and Dad about this right?"
I grinned back.
"Right?" He asked, a bit more nervous this time.
Ah, the classic sibling move- It's not even that bad. Please don't tell Mom!
"I don't know. I'm feeling chatty today, especially with a voice this smooth. Maybe…"
Ruval sighed in defeat and gave in.
"What do you want?"
"Now you're talking my language… hehehehehe~"
.........................................................
Finally, the timeskip arc begins.
4000 words this time, big chappy.
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