“I figured already, but I’m glad you confirmed it. I will have a long talk with her. As for the ball, you have ten days to learn how to control yourself.”


    “Yes, my lady?”


    “Stop clenching your jaw so angrily. I’m sure you hate us, even if it’s subconsciously, but the guests we will be meeting are special.”


    He blinked a few times at her words. Hearing it, he couldn’t help but ask.


    “As special as you, my lady?”


    “You can say so. I can’t have you offend them by your gestures, so try to speak and do as little as possible there. Though, I already have an idea about that,” muttering barely tangibly near the end, she spoke.


    ‘Are there going to be other demon lords?’ His mind immediately ventured off into certain waters, but she kept mum about the matter, understandably so.


    “I will try my best, my lady,” he said, lowering his upper body into a half-bow before she stopped him.


    “That’s enough, then. Take the papers.”


    Floating through the winds, undisturbed, they easily landed on his sprawled out forearms. While he took care of the items, finally, his master moved in front of the tree again, poised incomparably to moments prior.


    With a straight spine, she stood unbeaten against the undulating wind, her unsullied shoes and cape gently fondling the green blades beneath.


    Closing her eyes, she waited calmly, basking in the fading sun. Suddenly, he saw as her eyes opened, quickly turning to the tree, which no longer remained so upright. Shaking unfathomably, in the same spot as before, a gaping hole had been left.


    Looking at the dark expanse forming inside the deep rupture that splintered off into countless areas from the center of the tree, if not for the oak’s width, Lutiel feared they would have made it fall over on its side.


    Practically raining, the abscission covered them with golden amber leaves, some tainted with bloody red dots and streaks. Under the rustling branches from above, her voice came victorious, delivering itself to the man standing a few steps near her side.


    “Lutiel, bring me a new page,” She said briskly, shutting herself up as she stared at a single point, somewhere.


    Not waiting a single moment, his hands were already moving to the papers, taking a blank, dark page from beneath. Unable to give it over quick enough, the paper, along with a pen that dipped itself flew through the space, arriving into her possession deftly.


    Moving a step back, Lutiel’s face had become covered excessively as the wind blew his hair chaotically.


    Intensifying, it lifted the leaves off the grass, making them fall down only as they had gotten away from Zyponia’s surroundings. Feeling the same as the weightless hairs of the oak, he needed to adjust his footing along the ground.


    And, once he could comfortably stand, he saw the girl performing things he couldn’t have imagined. Not using a single of her arms unlike before, the paper stood still. Along the sheet, a pen floated through the air, arriving just before the sheet.


    Rapidly, words began being etched onto the papers as the ink was left behind, beautiful lines curved along without a single mistake. Unable to stop herself, she derived her thoughts upon the page, quickly covering one third before they both even knew it.


    As the wind passed, the page she had in front of her had been finished, the man trying his best to take a few looks at it, though nothing came from that even if he witnessed all of the letters.


    “Let’s go back now,” she said, turning to him before receiving a soft nod.


    …


    ‘Does magic refer to the act of manipulating materials around them, or are they able to do it purely because of magic?’ A thought manifested inside his head while the nightwear he wore rustled against his skin. With the edge of his chin barely rubbing against the wooden panels, Lutiel pushed himself up, holding all of the weight using two palms.


    Standing using his hands, he ruminated on the matter, quickly realizing that he wouldn’t get anywhere.


    ‘Should I just ask her, out of curiosity?” He wondered, performing another push-up before a resolute answer thundered inside of him.


    ‘No, there is no point. Even if they speak in demonic only, I can learn from Zyponia’s lessons with her student and the research as well. I should write down what I already know, but asking for blank papers and a page could be suspicious. I can’t risk them seeing the notes either.’


    Thinking about the possible options at hand, at the same time feeling his shoulders and arms burn from the continuous exercises, Lutiel curled his knees to the stomach before standing on the floor once again.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The world around him spun ever so slightly, but the vision quickly went away as he bore with it. Raising his left leg slightly, he started to squat down, using only the right leg.


    ‘Magic. I have no idea what it might be, though I know her words are false. It’s not pointless, not for me nor any other human.’ Moving down to the ground using a single leg, it didn’t seem like he had any issues. Slowly, Lutiel moved back to the previous position, soon repeating the motion.


    ‘From what I’ve seen, it may be connected to the soul. Do they have wills so great the world around abides to them? But why weren’t any of the heroes able to do so as well, then? Does it have to be even higher than that of a hero? Is that even possible?’ He wondered, clouding himself just by doing so. Each question of his ventured off into countless more.


    ‘Then, is it the mind? After all, Zyponia’s mood seemed to affect her magic’s accuracy. Or both at the same time? I won’t be able to understand that aspect just by observing them. I need to gain Zyponia’s trust, but for that to happen, I need to regain control over my body.” Musing inwardly, he promptly changed the leg to the other one, doing the same thing.


    His thighs started to swell with definition as more blood started to rush towards them, exhaustion overruling any sort of tightening when Lutiel moved down for the twentieth time already.


    Wobbling and spasming, the muscles soon got their share of rest as laid on his back, soiling his bare back with the smeared puddle of sweat on the floor.


    With a somewhat ragged breath, he stared at the empty ceiling, darkness prevailing all throughout. Calmly waiting, he focused on an important part of the new him.


    Staring at the dim mark absentmindedly, for minutes on end, something finally came over him.


    ‘Would I be able to do it? To use magic if I train my will hard enough? Harder than even Raphael?’ A heretical idea clouded his mind, but once it appeared, it couldn’t get washed away, no matter what. ‘But, would I still be a human by then?’ For a few silent, yet roaring moments, he wondered,


    ‘No, it doesn’t matter if I can help win this war, even if all the lands are plagued with them.’


    Staring briskly at the mellow lights peeking in through the window, Lutiel finally stopped lying down, quickly moving up to the same position as yesterday, when he awakened the hero’s glyph.


    Calmly, he stood on the floor, his bare feet touching the cold sweat, but he didn’t care about that. Without closing his eyes, he stood on one leg while raising the other slightly.


    All of a sudden, as his leg exploded at something spread in his imagination, a cold blue light illuminated itself through the room. Stronger compared to the stars lay beyond the window, his mark glowed, no longer in pain as it used to.


    Instead, as Lutiel delivered the kick on the height of his head, he stood in place, retracting the limb. Standing in the center of the room, his clothes thrown to be washed away, a tranquil sensation came from within, staring continuously at the hand.


    The light dimmed out gradually, his face disappearing into the dark. Though, the plastered look of confusion that broke his composed demeanor couldn’t be missed.


    Finally, he started moving once again, placing his legs awkwardly across the panels, as though he didn’t know what he was doing. Though, when he actually moved, having put his leg in a similar, yet fundamentally different position, he couldn’t help but voice his astonishment.


    ‘Is this what it felt like, Raph? I knew you were a cheater all along.’ Thinking to himself while droplets fell along his face, he quickly smeared it clear whilst an unruly look broke out within his eyes.


    Following the leg at a certain point above his head, in a curved arch, the mark glowed brighter than ever, three of the four streaks brought out.


    Once again, he pulled the leg back to himself, and with his face returning to its usual look, he stood there in complete silence that started to creep up on his ears.


    Suddenly, his leg moved smoothly along the floor, arriving at the same point as a few moments prior.


    However, before he retracted it to the other leg, both of his feet were already turning, changing their positions to switch places. Brushing against the floor, his right leg stopped, elevated meekly.


    Not stopping for a single moment, he moved the leg previously used as an anchor. Although it straightened out only at the very end, once it did, the kick behind him didn’t stagger or wobble a single sway.


    Despite the tired out muscles, the straight leg kept its position high above his head. Only after his chest heaved up and down a few times did Lutiel finally retrieve it, sweat dripping from his face like morning dew.


    Breathing harshly while frozen in space, his head tinkered to the pulsating feeling blasting from his right hand.


    ‘I see, I have to flow even smoother. Don’t be so tense in the legs. Instead, harden your center,’ he mumbled internally, staring at the darkness with a distorted vision.


    His eyes only focused on what lay around him and his figure.


    Placing himself in the center of the room, Lutiel readied his body. Standing on both legs, he raised the heel of his right foot. The left firmly held against the cold, sweaty floor, the other one quickly flew through the air, cutting it in a smooth arch before repeating the same motion as before.


    Completing a half rotation, the leg stomped on the ground as silently as it could, trying not to alert the mansion’s residents.


    He didn’t kick to the side anymore. Changing the rhythm marginally, the same leg moved, reversing its previous maneuvers. Everything other than the waist and hips relaxed itself as he performed the kick, back in the initial position.


    ‘Wrong, again. There’s no point going all the way if I can’t get the first half correctly,’ he muttered in his head before taking the right leg behind his left. Just like the time he awakened the glyph, it cut through the air before stopping in the air.


    ‘No, that’s not it.’ It went back down, only to be repeated thereafter.


    The nightwear he wore should have already become beyond damp, dripping with sweat, yet as his heart raced and poured out buckets, before it could truly turn wet, it somehow dried off.


    Similar to his butler’s clothes, which Lutiel couldn’t foul no matter what sort of ground he walked through, they continued to keep themselves dry, the sweat dripping out of the long trousers like a slightly turned faucet.


    Countless more drops puddled around the floor while he kept kicking in the same way, his glyph lit up all the time.


    He didn’t count how many he had performed, or rather, his focus lay on other aspects of the actions. After an unknown amount of kicks passed by, however, he didn’t move it down to the ground anymore, staying above his head.