Continuation – POV: Mephisto
I raised my palm. The shadow beneath my feet began to ripple, darkness like the surface of water disturbed by the breath of magic. Then, one by one, shadow figures began to emerge – of varying shapes and heights, with crimson eyes and distinct features. Some resembled warriors, others animals from nightmares or fairy tales. Silent, precise, obedient.
Issei stepped back. Akeno retreated a step, instinctively reaching for her magic. But I lifted my hand, and the shadows halted. I heard Asia, who asked Issei with slight fear, "What are they?"
"Don't be afraid," I said calmly. "They're here for you."
With a single gesture, I divided the group. Each of them received their own sparring partner – a shadow able to adapt to their style, strength, and weaknesses.
"They will react exactly according to your abilities," I explained. "They're not here to win. They're here to teach. So be grateful when they bring you to your knees."
Then I stepped back. Two shadows rose from my own darkness like something alive – Beru and Igris. Their presence was unlike the others – they had personalities. True generals of my darkness.
Beru, tall, armored, with his head bowed, emitted soft clicking sounds – like a predator eager for the hunt. Igris, a knight cloaked in black armor, was silent, yet radiated an aura of pride. He turned to me, they both knelt and spoke in unison: "My king."
"Let's train," I said quietly, pulling daggers of pure shadow from my own darkness. They were light, sharp, and responded to my thoughts.
The training began.
The training field turned into an orchestra of chaos and will. Each member of the group faced their own shadow – a manifested opponent who knew every step they'd take, every weak move, every hesitation in their stance.
Issei was panting, sweat covered his forehead as he struggled to keep up with a massive shadow figure that mimicked his own strength – but without his impulsiveness. Every punch was like metal hitting stone.
"That damn thing… it's trying to outmatch me using my own style!" Issei shouted, and with another burst of draconic power tried to push the opponent away. The shadow merely stepped back, tripped him, and slammed him to the ground.
Akeno moved gracefully around her shadow, which launched lightning at her like a mirror. Her eyes burned, magic sparkled at her fingertips. Every bolt she unleashed was returned to her – only slightly stronger. "This feels like fighting myself after ten more years of training," she murmured.
Koneko fought silently. Her shadow was quiet, just like her, but brutally fast. Fist to fist, muscle to shadow. Each hit resonated like an explosion. She gritted her teeth but didn't back down an inch.
Meanwhile, Asia stood in the back, protected by a shield. She too had a shadow – not a warrior, but a shadowy healer, trying to break down her defensive barriers. Testing her mental resilience, her faith, her will to stand behind the others even without offensive strength.
Kiba improved rapidly, his past always driving him forward, but against this opponent, he still felt visibly powerless.
Rias simply stood and watched the shadow that materialized into the form of a shadow queen. The two began a duel of magic. Each spell received an immediate response. A battle of pure strategy and elegance.
In the heart of it all stood I – not among them, but inside my own tornado of silence and deadly harmony.
Igris struck first. His sword appeared with the elegance of a centuries-old warrior, moving like a stream of water – rhythmic and precise. But I did not retreat. I danced. Every step was calculated. The daggers in my hands shimmered with black light.
Clang. Slash. Dodge.
"Beautiful," I whispered as his blade slipped just past my face. "Again."
While I clashed with Igris as if at a fencer's ball, Beru lunged into battle. The way he moved was like a beast in sheer ecstasy. Clicking, screeching, leaping across walls, rebounding, attacking from angles a human would call impossible.
But I kept dancing.
The daggers vanished and reappeared in my hands. With a smile – slightly mad, filled with twisted joy – I dodged every strike. A sidestep, a thrust under the arm, a slash across Beru's thigh. A spin, deflection of Igris's blade, a precise stab into the joint of his armor.
"More... even more!" I laughed.
No blood appeared – only darkness dripping from the shadow bodies. But the hits were real. Critical. Deadly – had it been an actual fight.
Igris was the first to kneel. His sword slipped from his hand and slowly dissolved. Beru followed – slowed, with several daggers embedded in the jointed parts of his body, until I finally gave the command for them to kneel. Then they dissolved into my shadow, and I went to check on the others.
POV: Sirzechs Lucifer – Watching from the Balcony
I stood beside Grayfia, observing the scene below through the wide window of the training hall.
"This… isn't ordinary training," she stated calmly. Her gaze was sharp, perceptive, but a shadow of concern danced in her eyes.
"No. This is… discipline," I nodded. "And at the same time a display of power we've only felt until now – not seen."
The shadow beings moved with absolute precision. Never striking too early. Never late. They knew where every team member's weakness was. And still, it seemed Mephisto himself was on another level.
"That knight… and that insect…?" Grayfia narrowed her eyes. "I can sense personality in them. Not presence, not projection. But... consciousness."
"Yes. This isn't just magic. This is something else," I replied. "And notice – Mephisto barely fights. He doesn't use force. He uses control. Command. Precision."
We were silent for a moment.
Then Grayfia quietly added, "If he wanted to… do you think he could defeat you?"
Slowly, I nodded. "If what I feel is true… then yes. He could even defeat the God of the Bible himself. Not as a rival, but as someone who was outside that war. Outside the balance. Someone who looks at our world from the outside."
We looked back at the training field. Mephisto had just raised his hand and stopped the two with a single gesture – and both immediately dropped to their knees. Just by command. No words.
"This isn't magic, Grayfia," I whispered. "This is rule."