Understanding
He turned to the side, finding a mirror pointing right at him. 'My hair, and eyes! How strange…'
Leon still looked like himself… well, save for the dark, blood red hair and eyes with + slits, along with all the other aforementioned changes, but it was still him.
Out of the reflection, Leon noticed Beelzebub gawking. 'Sir Beelzebub, what is wrong?'
'...just like him…' Beelzebub muttered.
'What?'
'NOTHING! YOU FILTHY IMP! HOW DARE YOU QUESTION LORD BEELZEBUB-'
Another tirade.
'Ahem, this state is far better. You'd do well not to change back to that filthy human form,' he said, making a disgusted face when he said human.
'I can't do that. While staying transformed is something some do, I'm afraid the benefits are outweighed by the annoyances it may bring.'
His current form seemed to… calm Beelzebub down? '...reasonable…'
Bathump~
Suddenly, and without warning, Leon felt an indescribable urge, a feeling. Kill. Maim. Kill. Destroy. Kill-
Changing back in a panic, Leon shoved that feeling away. Instead, he opted to continue questioning Beelzebub, 'Back to the topic of the rank, what are you saying?'
Thinking for a moment, Beelzebub came up with an acceptable and, quite frankly, correct explanation. 'As a demon grows, they eventually evolve. Currently, you are what's known as an Imp, like I said, the lowest form of a Demon. The next stage, and the true beginning where a demon truly becomes a demon, is the Thrall stage. You will grow your horns, which are unique to each individual, and will also attain your [Demon Art], an ability unique to each demon. Many never reach the next stage, but due to the noble and wondrous nature and talent our Lord possessed, I am confident your potential is at the very least General stage, possibly even Lord stage.'
'I can explain the other evolutionary traits of the stages as we reach them, so I will simply list the rest; Acolyte, Knight, Commander, General, Lord. Naturally, both I and our Lord were… well… Lord stage demons. On your silly ranking scale, we would most certainly fall in the "SSS" rank.
It was Leon's turn for his jaw to hit the floor. 'SSS-rank… SSS-rank… SSS-RANK!!!'
BEEP~ BEEP~ BEEP~ BEEP~ BEEP~ BEEP~ BEEP~ BEEP~ BEEP~
Slam!
A young nurse burst through the door at the sound of Leon's heart rate monitor going haywire, "What's wrong-"
"Hm?"
"A-ah! U-uhm… I-I…
"SORRY!"
Slam!
Leon looked down, noticing his hospital gown had unbuttoned, leaving his chest exposed. 'Tsk~ tsk~ tsk~ just like the Lord' Beelzebub shook his head.
Ignoring him, and the nurse's strange behavior, Leon processed the facts he had become privy to. 'This Strand, it has the potential to become a SSS-rank Strand, all I have to do is grow… I can't believe it.'
His entire life, in the matter of one stupid decision, had made not just a 180, it had jumped off planet, soared to andromeda, fell into a wormhole, and ended up in an entirely different plane of existence. The difference between someone with a SSS-rank Strand and someone with no strand at all was like comparing an ant with god himself– on HRT.
He ran his hands through his raven black hair, collecting himself. 'Beelzebub, sir, how am I meant to go about growing? Do demons have some special method?'
'Simple, Imp, you must consume Strands, mana marbles, mana crystals, and mana itself. And yes, there is a method,' he straightened up. 'LOWLY IMP! I HAVE DECIDED!'
"?!"
'In my infinite wisdom and grace, I will take you under my tutelage. BE GRATEFUL! As it was I who taught our Lord from a young age to become the greatest warrior among all of the great demon race! Follow my teachings, and you will no doubt become the greatest being your lowly race has ever seen!'
Leon smiled ear to ear. Bowing his head (half jokingly, half seriously), he said, 'I'd be honored, Lord Beelzebub.'
'As expected. NOW! Let's begin!'
.
.
.
"Report."
The General, Reynolds, and Whittaker were all meeting in his office. "Sir," Reynold said, "it seems the readings were off… I apologize. Instead of an SSS-rank Strand, it seems that the only one we got out of it was a D-rank."
Ever the perceptive man, Cain could tell how disappointed in himself officer Reynold was. Raising his hand, he stopped his self-blaming, "No need, I looked at that data myself. I'm sure even Whittaker here would have done the same… those readings clearly indicated the presence of at the very least an undiscovered S-rank Strand. Though…"
He pulled up some holographic images using his watch depicting the planet in question, "This planet… something's off about it.
"The only area on this planet even remotely magical, or even livable, was the 200 kilometer zone around where we found that kid. Have any of you ever heard of a D-rank Strand capable of creating such a phenomenon on its own?"
The two had no words, and could only shake their heads. The General continued, "I find it… suspicious. Look into the kid for me, I want a detailed history on him on my desk as soon as possible."
Whittaker saluted, "Yes sir! Right away sir." Following suit, Reynold left the room in a hurry.
"Sigh…" the General put his head in his hands, "something's not right…" he mumbled to himself.
How right he was.
.
.
.
'What are you doing now, Imp?' Beelzebub demanded.
For the past five hours, Leon had been learning a meditation method taught to him by Beelzebub that would allow him to consume latent/ambient mana in order to advance his growth. Within just an hour of beginning, Leon found the process came naturally to him.
By pulling in the mana of his surroundings towards his heart and integrating it into his blood, Leon's demonic Strand would naturally siphon off a portion of it. In addition to manually doing this, coaxing in mana through a special breathing technique allowed him to "smuggle" in mana particles by "attaching" them to the air he breathed, dropping them off in his blood alongside the oxygen his body naturally did.
The entire process, once he understood it, could be done while doing other activities. Naturally, this took a lot of concentration, yet Leon was finding that he had an abundance of that.
'I am exercising,' Leon responded. 'This mana consumption technique can be done passively, as you said yourself, so I decided to do some exercise.'
'Why would a demon need to… exercise? Growth and evolution is all we need to become the strongest race of all!' he argued pompously.
'I understand that, but this is something based in fact. I'm not doing this for no reason.'
Beelzebub raised an eyebrow. 'Explain.'
'If I were to describe humanity; we are a race obsessed with understanding everything. Naturally, when our race as a whole was exposed to Strands, research was immediate and fruitful. One finding that relates to me is the fact that manaless, physical strength is the basis on which mana multiplies. Simply put, the stronger the being, the more of an effect mana will have as you are exposed to it. Honestly, the fact I never had a Strand up until this point may have been a blessing, not a curse…'
Leon sighed, 'Regardless, this fact is much more noticeable during transformations, and since my Strand is a transformation type-'
'ALRIGHT, alright, I'll trust you for now Imp,' Beelzebub cut in. 'But after you are done with this exercise, we will begin practicing martial arts, followed by a lesson in [Eternal Flame] magic.'
Both of those prospects sounded infinitely more interesting than the limited bodyweight exercises he could do trapped in a hospital, but he decided that he should at least warm up before he began.
Roughly 40 minutes later, Leon had built up a light sweat. 'I'll stop there for now,' he thought to Beelzebub. 'Exercising past a certain point of strength with just your body is inefficient, time wise. Right now, I'm pressed for time, so learning martial arts and magic will be a better use of time.'
Pressed he was, for next week held the most important day of any reasonable person: Military Academy Invitation Examinations, or the MAIE's. They were one part standardized test, which Leon was confident in acing, and another part money barrier… well… Strand rank barrier. If one didn't have at least an E-rank Strand, they would never get an invitation to Military Academy, no matter how perfect their test scores were.
It was the one system Leon didn't understand. Why don't the military take promising individuals who might not have a good Strand, or none at all, and sponsor them? Who knew when the Zenolists– or the retaliating force of the Galactic Federation– would invade the solar system? Why on Earth would they ever pass up good candidates?
'Good choice, Imp. Your training starts with the basics. Sadly, I am not physically able to instruct you, so you will have to make due with copying my movements, and learning from my masterful instruction.'
Beelzebub's first lesson consisted mostly of explanation, with some demonstrations. This martial art named "Royal Demonic Art of the Body" was evidently as complex as it was surprisingly advanced, seeing as it was invented millions of years ago. Even just the basic underlying structure required Leon to control parts of his body he never imagined would matter.
Naturally, his legs, feet, torso, and arms all had to be properly balanced, positioned, and moved, but that wasn't the end of it. Each individual finger, toe, and even his tongue had to be positioned correctly.
'Transform into your demonic form, Imp,' Beelzebub demanded. Leon obliged.
Naturally, as it was a martial art made by a species with a tail, that was an integral part of the movements. For the next few hours, Leon struggled and struggled to get these basics down, struggling especially on getting his tail to do what he wanted. Eventually, after many tirades and extremely critical assessments, Leon managed to achieve a "respectable" result.
Though… that feeling he got whenever he transformed into his demon form, it was unsettling. He felt that at any moment, he could, and would, rip the heads off the nurses who had been peeking into his room more and more often throughout the day. Leon could only force this feeling to subside through sheer willpower.
'I'll give you this, Imp, you are a… decent… learner.'
Leon smiled, knowing better than to tease the uptight Beelzebub and risk his mood returning to normal, 'Thank you, Lord Beelzebub.'
'NOW! BACK TO WORK!'
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.
.
Leon's training continued. Every now and again, Leon noticed a nurse, sometimes more than one, peek into his room, giggle, and scurry away. Even more confusing was Beelzebub's strange mumbling and head shakes every time it happened, saying something about 'population boom' or 'repopulating demonkind'.
Leon had too much on his plate, and was too focused on keeping perfect Royal Demonic Art of the Body (RDAB) form on top of constantly using the mana consumption techniques he had been taught.
Eventually, exhaustion and nightfall forced him to bed. He went out like a light.
The next morning came almost like he had skipped time. Like the day before, Leon woke up to a surprise.
"LEON!"