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Returning to the quiet comfort of his manor after successfully recruiting Kuroka into his peerage, Algernon wasted no time diving back into his rigorous training routine.
Day by day, he pushed the limits of his body and demonic magic control, striving for progress that would propel him closer to his ultimate ambitions.Yet, after a month of relentless effort, the once rapid growth of his demonic energy control slowed to a crawl, hovering stubbornly at 50%.
Sitting cross-legged in his training space late one evening, Algernon frowned as he contemplated the plateau in his progress.
"I need something new," he muttered to himself. Inspiration eluded him, but then, memories from his past life surfaced—a world filled with comics, superheroes, and larger-than-life battles. One idea struck him: Compression.
"If I can compress my demonic power, make it denser... its potency will skyrocket," he reasoned. The thought filled him with excitement, and he decided to test the theory immediately.
Summoning a small orb of demonic energy into his palm, Algernon focused on condensing it, pushing the energy inward as though compacting the power into an impossibly tight space. However, the moment he attempted to compress it past a certain threshold, the orb destabilized, sparking uncontrollably before dissipating into harmless wisps of black mist.
Undeterred by failure, Algernon repeated the process, over and over. Each attempt ended with the same result—unstable orbs that either fizzled out or exploded in harmless bursts of energy.
By midday, his frustration was palpable, but he reminded himself of one critical lesson: Practice makes perfect.
Hours of grueling trial and error passed before he finally made a breakthrough. As he concentrated on compressing the orb once more, sweat dripping from his brow, he noticed something different.
The same-sized orb now absorbed twice the amount of demonic power it originally held. Its appearance changed too—the dark violet hue shifted toward a deep, ominous gray, radiating a far more intense and lethal aura.
Testing its effects, he hurled the compressed orb toward a reinforced training dummy made of enchanted stone. Upon impact, the dummy shattered instantly, reduced to rubble in a violent shockwave. Algernon's lips curled into a small smile as he muttered, "Success."
Encouraged by this progress, Algernon decided to take his training a step further. If compression worked externally, could he apply the same principle to his magic core within his body? The thought intrigued him, and after taking a brief moment to recover his energy, he began experimenting.
Closing his eyes, Algernon focused inward, visualizing his magic core. Normally, it functioned as a reservoir of raw, unrefined energy, its vast expanse brimming with untapped potential.
Slowly, he began applying the concept of compression to it, imagining the core shrinking slightly, compacting its power without losing capacity.
The first attempts were rough—his control wavered, and the compression caused bursts of discomfort that forced him to stop. But he persisted, refining his focus and adapting to the unfamiliar sensation.
After several grueling sessions, he succeeded in compressing his magic core by a small degree. The results were immediate—his energy reserves felt denser, his demonic power more responsive and potent.
"This... this could change everything," Algernon thought, the realization invigorating him. Compressing his core not only increased the density of his magic but also seemed to enhance the efficiency with which he could utilize it.
Over the next several months, he dedicated himself to mastering this technique, balancing external orb compression with the internal refinement of his core.
During this time, his training became even more demanding. He created increasingly complex combat scenarios to test his compressed orbs, pushing his limits in both control and creativity
At the same time, he worked tirelessly on his physical conditioning, ensuring that his body could keep up with the ever-growing power of his magic.
By the end of the third month, Algernon had made significant progress. His compressed demonic orbs were smaller, denser, and exponentially more lethal, capable of devastating effects even in controlled environments.
His magic core, now refined and compacted, allowed him to channel energy with unprecedented precision. Though the process was far from complete, he knew he was on the verge of unlocking a whole new level of power.
Standing in his training space, surrounded by the wreckage of destroyed dummies and scorched terrain, Algernon clenched his fist, a swirling, compressed orb of gray-black energy forming in his palm. It radiated an intimidating aura, crackling faintly with power.
"This is just the beginning,"
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Algernon's daily routine was rigorous, but he never neglected his intellectual pursuits. Whenever he wasn't training, he could often be found in the grand library of the Gremory main manor, poring over ancient tomes and learning about the vast history and intricacies of the demon race.
It was on one such evening, as he was making his way back from the library, that he spotted Rias lying on the grass in the garden under the soft glow of the moonlight.
At first glance, she looked serene, her crimson hair fanning out against the grass like a radiant halo. But as Algernon approached, he noticed the subtle tension in her expression. Her usual lively demeanor seemed dulled, weighed down by something that clearly troubled her.
Deciding to check on her, Algernon walked closer, casually lying down across from her on the cool grass.
"Rias," he greeted, his voice gentle but steady, "you seem... off. What's bothering you?"
Rias glanced at him, startled by his presence, before sighing and turning her gaze back to the night sky.
"It's nothing," she mumbled at first, but when Algernon didn't look away, she relented. "It's about my engagement," she admitted, her tone heavy with frustration. "I just... I don't want it. But no one seems to care about what I think."
Algernon nodded thoughtfully, letting her words sink in. He had heard whispers about her arranged marriage, a political bond meant to strengthen alliances and to continue the pure blood inheritance due to decrease of pure blood devil since the great war 500 years ago and devil's civil war after that.
But seeing her disheartened like this, he felt a flicker of resolve to help. "You know," he said after a pause, "there's a way out of this... if you trust me."
Rias turned to him sharply, her eyes widening. "A way out? How?"
He sat up slightly, propping himself on one elbow as he met her curious gaze. "When you come of age, you'll be eligible to challenge him to a Rating Game. If you defeat him, you could demand the marriage be annulled. It's well within your rights as a noble of the Gremory family."
Her face lit up with a mixture of excitement and doubt. "But... I'm not strong enough. How could I possibly defeat him?"
Algernon gave her a small, confident smile. "Rias, you have something that most devils would envy—a power that could make you one of the strongest in the entire demon race."
"The Power of Destruction isn't just a family trait; it's a force that can obliterate anything if properly harnessed. Your magic could be developed to destroy things from the inside out. If you're willing, I can help you train—every weekend, for as long as it takes."
Rias's eyes sparkled with newfound hope as his words washed over her. "Do you really think I can be that strong?" she asked, her voice soft but brimming with anticipation.
"I don't think so," he replied, his tone unwavering. "I know you can. Your power is as vast as your brother's—if not more so. It's just a matter of bringing it out. If you trust me, I'll make sure you're ready when the time comes."
As his words sank in, Rias's initial sadness melted away, replaced by a growing excitement. Before Algernon could say anything more, she suddenly leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him in a spontaneous hug. "Thank you, Algernon!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with gratitude.
The unexpected embrace caught him off guard. He froze, only now realizing how close she was. Her soft, warm presence pressed against him, and he couldn't help but notice her growing beauty.
Her crimson hair brushed against his face, and her chest—undeveloped yet beginning to mature—pressed lightly against his chiseled torso. His train of thought faltered, and for the first time in a long while, he was speechless.
When Rias realized what she had done, her excitement quickly turned into embarrassment. She pulled back abruptly, her face as red as her hair.
"I-I'm sorry!" she stammered, a flustered mess. "I didn't mean to— I'll see you this weekend!" Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and fled, leaving Algernon alone in the garden, still processing what had just happened.
He watched her retreating figure, a small smile tugging at his lips. "She's going to be interesting to train," he murmured to himself, amused by how quickly her mood had shifted.
The moon hung high in the sky as Algernon reclined back onto the grass, his mind already strategizing ways to prepare Rias for the challenge ahead.