The next seven days passed way too quickly. I'd expected them to drag, but instead found myself racing against time as departure day approached. Between packing, organizing our Earth accommodations, and finalizing arrangements, I barely had time to reflect on how drastically my plans had changed in just two weeks.
I stood in the training arena, sweat dripping down my back as I held the final position of a complex shadow manipulation sequence. Around me, a dozen shadow constructs hovered in perfect formation—wolves, serpents, and birds of prey, each maintaining distinct form despite their proximity.
"Impressive control, Young Master," Ariel said from her position at the edge of the arena. "Your precision has increased significantly."
I released the constructs, watching them dissolve into wisps of darkness that slithered back to merge with my shadow. "Necessity breeds improvement. Kuoh won't be as forgiving as the Valac estate."
"You expect trouble?"
"I expect politics disguised as education." I grabbed a towel from the nearby bench, wiping my face. "Rias and Sona will be watching every move, measuring every word."
Ariel approached, her crimson eyes assessing my condition with professional detachment. "Your Magic has evolved considerably. The casting speed alone has improved by thirty percent."
"Not good enough." I tossed the towel aside.
"You've been training for ten hours straight." Ariel's tone remained respectful but firm. "Even with your stamina, there are limits."
I started to argue but caught myself. She was right. I'd been pushing myself relentlessly all week, driven by a nagging sense of inadequacy. Kuoh represented unknown territory with unclear expectations, and my instinct was to prepare for worst-case scenarios.
"Fine. We'll continue tomorrow." I rolled my shoulders, feeling the pleasant burn of exertion. "What's next on today's agenda?"
"Lady Astaroth requested a call at four. She mentioned something about a breakthrough in her formula research."
I glanced at the clock on the wall. Three forty-five. "I'll need a quick shower."
"I've already prepared fresh clothing in your chambers." Ariel fell into step beside me as we left the arena. "And arranged for privacy during your call."
"Efficient as always."
"It's my duty to anticipate your needs, Young Master."
The subtle emphasis on "needs" didn't escape my notice, nor did the way her eyes lingered on me a moment longer than necessary. Since our first accidental Essence Drain experience, our dynamic had shifted in ways neither of us fully acknowledged aloud. The boundaries between master and servant, between professional and personal, had blurred into something more complex.
We'd continued the Essence Drain sessions—for training purposes, we told ourselves—but the intensity of our connection during those moments belied any pretense of clinical practice. Each time, the exchange of energy created a feedback loop of pleasure that left us both breathless and wanting more.
I'd caught her watching me during training, her normally composed features flushed with more than just professional pride. And I'd found myself noticing details about her I'd previously overlooked.
In my chambers, I showered quickly, letting the hot water wash away the sweat and tension of training. As I dressed in the clothes Ariel had selected—casual but well-tailored pants and a deep purple shirt that complemented my eyes—I thought about Latia.
Our daily calls had become the highlight of each day, evolving from discussions of magical theory and travel preparations into something far more intimate. What began as intellectual exchange had gradually transformed into confessions of desire, whispered promises of what awaited us on Earth.
Latia, it turned out, possessed a surprisingly creative imagination behind her composed exterior. Her scientific precision extended to describing, in exquisite detail, exactly what she wanted to explore with me once we had proper privacy. The contrast between her clinical terminology and the heated intent behind her words never failed to leave me simultaneously amused and aroused.
I settled into the private communication room adjacent to my chambers, activating the magical circle that would connect to Latia's similar setup at the Astaroth estate. The air shimmered, and then she appeared—not physically present, but projected with enough fidelity that I could see the subtle changes in her expression as she noticed me.
"You've been training again," she observed, her eyes taking in my damp hair and the lingering flush of exertion on my skin.
"How could you tell?"
"The micro-tension patterns in your shoulder muscles suggest recent high-intensity activity followed by incomplete recovery." Her lips curved into a smile. "Also, your hair is still wet."
I laughed, leaning back in my chair. "And here I thought you were just admiring the view."
"I can make multiple observations simultaneously." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "For instance, I've noted that particular shirt accentuates both your coloring and musculature quite effectively."
"Ariel picked it out."
"She has excellent taste." Latia adjusted something off-screen. "Speaking of taste..."
"I thought you wanted to discuss your formula breakthrough?"
"Oh, that." She waved dismissively. "I finally solved the problem I asked you about this morning. The issue was in the binding matrix, not the energy conversion sequence as I'd initially hypothesized."
"Congratulations." I meant it sincerely. She'd been working on that particular problem for weeks. "That's a significant achievement."
"Thank you." Her expression softened momentarily before shifting to something more speculative. "But I've been thinking about a different kind of experiment since then."
"What kind of experiment?"
"One involving certain theoretical applications of magical resonance between compatible partners." She leaned closer to the projection circle, lowering her voice. "Specifically, I've been calculating the potential energy transfer ratios for your… ability during sustained physical contact."
"That sounds like an area worth exploring."
"I thought you might be interested." Her fingers traced the edge of her fan. "I've developed several hypotheses that will require thorough testing."
"How thorough?"
"Exhaustive." Her eyes locked with mine through the projection. "I believe multiple sessions will be necessary to gather sufficient data. Possibly extending late into the night."
I shifted in my chair, suddenly finding it less comfortable. "And what variables would this experiment measure?"
"Endurance. Frequency. Intensity." Each word came slightly slower than the last. "Reciprocal response patterns under varying conditions."
The temperature in the room seemed to have increased significantly. "You've given this considerable thought."
"I'm methodical by nature." Her tongue darted out to moisten her lower lip. "I've prepared detailed notes on positions—I mean, procedural positions—that might yield optimal results."
"I'd be very interested in reviewing those notes."
"Would you?" Her voice dropped lower. "They're quite explicit."
"I appreciate thoroughness."
"Do you?" Her eyes gleamed. "Then you should know I've been conducting preliminary research. For baseline measurements."
Damn, this woman is a freak.
"That's very... scientific of you," I managed.
"Science requires dedication." She smiled, slow and deliberate. "A few more days until we can conduct proper experiments."
"I've been doing some preparation of my own," I admitted, leaning forward. "Testing certain techniques for efficiency and effectiveness."
"Have you?" Her eyes widened slightly. "Care to elaborate?"
"I've been exploring various approaches to energy manipulation." I kept my tone conversational, as if discussing weather patterns. "Particularly the controlled application of pressure to sensitive nodes."
"Nodes?"
"Points of concentrated magical and physical sensitivity." I traced a pattern on the table before me. "The human body contains several dozen. The devil body, even more."
Her breath caught audibly. "And you've... mapped these points?"
"Thoroughly. Both through research and practical application."
"With Ariel?" There was no jealousy in her tone—just curiosity, perhaps even excitement.
"Some aspects of training require a partner," I acknowledged. "But I've saved the most promising techniques for you."
"How considerate." Her fan snapped open, though whether from genuine need for air or as a distraction, I couldn't tell. "Perhaps we should compare notes when we meet. For scientific purposes, of course."
"Of course. Scientific purposes only."
We both maintained straight faces for approximately three seconds before dissolving into laughter. The tension broke, replaced by genuine warmth and connection that transcended the physical distance between us.
"I miss you," she said, surprising me with the sudden sincerity. "Which is illogical, since we've spent relatively little time in each other's physical presence."
"Logic has its limits."
"A heretical statement from an Astaroth."
"Perhaps you're a bad influence."
"I certainly hope so." I grinned. "Just a few more days, Latia. Then no more projections, no more distance."
"I should warn you—my patience has definite limits."
"As does mine." I leaned closer to the projection. "When we finally have privacy, don't expect gentlemanly restraint."
Her eyes darkened to emerald. "I would be severely disappointed by restraint of any kind."
The remainder of our call balanced precariously between intellectual discussion and thinly veiled innuendo, leaving me both mentally stimulated and physically frustrated when we finally disconnected an hour later.
I found Ariel waiting in my chambers, organizing the items we would take to Earth. She looked up as I entered, her expression carefully neutral though her eyes betrayed her curiosity.
"Was your call with Lady Astaroth productive?" she asked, folding one of my shirts with precise movements.
"Very." I watched her methodical packing, noting the tension in her shoulders. "She's made significant progress with her formula research."
"I'm pleased to hear it." Ariel's tone remained professional, but I caught the slight tightening of her fingers on the fabric. "Your formal attire for Lady Gremory's birthday celebration has been prepared. We'll need to depart by noon tomorrow to arrive punctually."
I moved closer, stopping just behind her. "You've been extraordinarily efficient this week, Ariel."
"I merely fulfill my duties, Young Master." She continued folding, though her movements had lost some of their fluid grace.
"Your duties." I reached out, lightly touching her shoulder. "I really appreciate you."
I glanced at the nearly packed luggage. "Now, about Rias's birthday celebration tomorrow..."
"All arrangements have been confirmed. The gift has been appropriately wrapped and the Phantom prepared for the journey."
"Excellent." I stretched, suddenly feeling the full weight of the day's training. "It should be an interesting evening."
"Indeed." Ariel's expression turned thoughtful. "Lady Gremory's birthday celebration will be attended by most of the young devil aristocracy. It presents an excellent opportunity to establish certain impressions before your departure to the human world."
"My thoughts exactly." I moved to the window, looking out at the purple twilight of the Underworld sky. "Tomorrow we begin setting the stage. One final appearance before we leave for Earth."
One more day of devil politics and social maneuvering. One more day of maintaining the careful facade I'd built. Then, finally, Earth—and the freedom to pursue my true agenda away from the watchful eyes of the Underworld elite.
Tomorrow would be a performance. But for tonight, I allowed myself a moment of genuine anticipation for what awaited beyond it.
Rias Gremory's birthday celebration. The perfect backdrop for my final act in this particular devil drama.
Showtime, indeed.