Edward – POV
It was still early when I returned to the cliffside cave. I could feel the Tide Crown pulsing faintly on my arms, its power quiet, watching—almost sentient.
Astaroth waited in his usual spot, seated cross-legged on a stone outcrop like he owned the place. His pale skin shimmered unnaturally in the dim blue light of the water.
"You came," he said with a smirk. "You're starting to accept what you are."
I crossed my arms. "I'm not a demon, Astaroth."
"No. But you're no longer just human either," he said, standing. "And that means it's time to begin learning how to survive as something… in-between."
He stepped forward, shadows curling around his fingers.
"Let me show you the Demon Arcs."
What Are Demon Arcs?
"Humans shape their magic through structure—incantations, formations, rituals. Their swordsmanship is based on forms, stances, lineage. All external," Astaroth began, conjuring a flame from nothing. "Demon Arcs are different."
He raised his hand. The flame twisted—not into a ball or a beam, but a spiral of burning will.
"Demon Arcs are internal. You don't cast them—you become them."
I watched, fascinated, as he moved. His body flowed from motion to motion—each strike infused with elemental chaos and focused hatred. No incantations, no circles. Just raw control born from emotion and instinct.
"There are seven known Arcs," he said, "though demons rarely master more than three. You'll learn them in stages, starting with two."
Arc I – Umbra Edge
He summoned a black sword formed from shadow.
"Umbra Edge is the first Arc. A technique that uses your own shadow to create a blade—silent, swift, and invisible in darkness."
"Like conjuring a sword?"
"Not quite. It's a reflection of your killing intent. It manifests when your emotions are focused. Let anger sharpen it. Let fear shape it."
He looked at me. "Try it."
I closed my eyes. I thought about everything—Alex Flame's mockery. The guards' laughter. The pressure of my name. The expectations. The fear.
Then… I felt it.
A pulse from my chest. A vibration through my arms. The shadows beneath me trembled.
And then—it formed. A blade, pitch black, curved like a predator's fang, grew from my palm.
I gasped.
It felt alive.
Astaroth grinned. "Good. Very good."
Arc II – Dread Pulse
"Next is Dread Pulse," he said. "It mimics shockwave magic, but it's driven by terror—not mana."
He placed his hand on the ground. Shadows expanded in a ripple. The stone cracked beneath it.
"Dread Pulse radiates your fear outward, turning it into a concussive wave. The more you're afraid, the stronger it hits. Harness that feeling. Let it explode."
I hesitated.
Then I remembered the night I first saw him. The moment I thought I was losing my mind. The helplessness.
I planted my hand down—focused the fear.
BOOM.
A low wave pulsed outward, enough to crack the stone and send a gust of wind blasting against the cave walls.
I was panting—but smiling.
A Choice of Power
"These Arcs don't replace human techniques," Astaroth said. "They evolve them. Your fire and water artifacts give you range, balance. The Arcs add ferocity. Surprise. Control."
"Why are you teaching me this?" I asked.
"Because you'll need it. Soon."
He turned, shadows coiling around him like a cloak.
"The world still sleeps… but not for long. Others will awaken too—elemental wielders, artifact bearers. Some will be allies. Some will want your head."
Back at the Estate
I returned just as the sun rose. I managed to wash off the sweat and change before breakfast.
Lady Emily glanced at me again. Her gaze lingered.
"You're stronger than yesterday," she said casually.
I shrugged. "Must be the fresh air."
She didn't press. But she didn't smile either.
Edward – Thoughts
Two artifacts. Two Demon Arcs.
I didn't know if I was ready for what was coming… but for the first time, I didn't feel powerless.
Not anymore.