Belial standing looking up to the sky''Thing have been going smoothly since i reincarnated to this world'' he paused then let out a soft sigh-not of weariness.But of quiet joy- as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
Elvira raised an eyebrow. hands on her lips ''What are you grinning at like that?come on magic won't learn itself!''
He blinked still caught in the moment. ''I was just nothing.''
She smacked the back of his head-not hard just enough ''Appreciate it after you stop setting the training dummy on fire by accident philosopher-boy.''
He followed her into the training yard tucked at the corner of the estate. still rubbing the spot where she smacked him Elvira didn't miss a beat. '' Unlike your father. who should be teaching you swordsmanship in here you two knucklehead prefer sparring in my garden and destroying my flowers.''
He winced. 'in our defense. The roses dodged first.''
She shot him a look so sharp it could cut steel. ''Roses don't dodge. genius.''
''They did yesterday,'' He mumbled. 'One of them actually pattied.''
Elvira threw her hands up. ''great! first you burn the flower beds now the plant have combat skill. What next a cabbage uprising?''
He grinned. ''you're just mud the dandelions like me better.''
She summoned a fireball in one hand. smiling sweetly. ''keep talking. flower whisperer and i'll teach you magic-close range.''
He coughed. ''Let's...begin the lesson. shall we?''
Belial sat cross-legged on the dusty ground, sweat trickling down the side of his face. Across from him, Elvira stood with her usual calm authority, her robes fluttering in the warm breeze.
"As you know," she began, pacing slowly, "there are four main elemental affinities—Fire, Water, Earth, and Wind. Then there are the rare ones… Void and Creation." She stopped in front of him, meeting his eyes. "Now, close your eyes. I want to know your affinity. This will help you draw mana directly from your core more efficiently."
Belial nodded, doing his best to look serious—though inside, he was struggling not to grin. If only she knew I opened my mana veins back when I was still in diapers. Then again, I doubt she'd believe the story about me meditating in a crib while chewing on the bed sheet.
He closed his eyes, steadying his breathing. His mind reached inward, past flesh and bone, into the swirling sea of energy in his mana core. The response was immediate—a rush of colors, elements intertwining like a symphony: crimson flames, azure waves, emerald growth, golden winds, the shadow of the void, the pure white of creation… and something else, a seventh resonance, faint yet unyielding, like the echo of the first spark in the universe.
When Belial opened his eyes, Elvira was frozen. Her usually steady hands trembled, and her pupils dilated in disbelief.
"…All… of them?" she whispered.
Belial tilted his head. "That's… bad, isn't it?"
"That's impossible," she said, stepping back. "Belial… do you have any idea how rare it is for someone to hold even three affinities? But you—" she shook her head, her voice dropping into something between awe and fear— "you have seven."
She leaned closer, her voice now a whisper only he could hear. "You must not tell anyone about this. Do you understand? Not your friends. If word spreads, you'll draw the attention of people—and things—you don't want looking your way." Her face was pale, the lines of worry making her seem older for a moment.
Belial swallowed, more from the weight of her tone than the words. Seven affinities, huh? Guess that explains why the tea kettle exploded last week when I was just trying to warm it.
Then Elvira suddenly straightened, smoothing her expression into the warm, motherly smile he knew too well. "Anyway…" she said, clapping her hands lightly, "lunch time. I bet you're hungry."
Belial blinked. " That was quick wait, we're just gonna—?"
"Magic can wait. Roasted chicken cannot." She turned on her heel, already heading toward the manor.
He sighed, getting to his feet. Seven affinities and she still treats me like a kid who needs to be bribed with food… though, to be fair, she's not wrong.
As they walked back, Belial noticed the way she kept glancing at him from the corner of her eye, her smile hiding a thousand unspoken thoughts. And though the air smelled of warm bread and herbs, there was now something else lingering—an unshakable sense that his peaceful days were numbered.
The dining hall smelled of roasted chicken, fresh bread, and a hint of spiced apple wine. Sunlight streamed through the tall arched windows, pooling in warm patches across the long wooden table.
Belial was already halfway through his meal, chewing and swallowing at an alarming pace. "Thank you for the food, Mom!" he said between bites, quickly wiping chicken crumbs from his face with the back of his hand.
"Careful—you're going to choke," Elvira warned, her tone that perfect balance between scolding and affectionate.
Belial just grinned. "I'll survive," he mumbled, stuffing the last of the bread into his mouth.
"And where exactly are you going in such a hurry?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Training yard!" he called over his shoulder, already pushing his chair back. Before anyone could stop him, he darted toward the door, boots thudding on the marble floor.
The room fell into silence. The only sound was the faint clink of a spoon dropping onto a plate as Azrael, who had been quietly eating, looked at Elvira.
"What's wrong?" he asked, noticing the tension in her eyes.
Elvira set her spoon down carefully, her voice low. "When I was testing Bell for his elemental affinity… he had all seven attributes."
Azrael froze, then the spoon slipped from his fingers entirely. Slowly, he stood. "I knew it," he said, a faint smile pulling at his lips. "I knew he was a prodigy."
"This is serious, Az," Elvira said, her voice tightening. "You know what that means. He… he's not going to have a normal life."
Azrael walked around the table and stopped beside her. Without a word, he pulled her into his arms. She resisted for only a moment before leaning into him.
"He's a strong kid," Azrael murmured against her hair. "Stronger than either of us were at his age. He'll find his way… and we'll be here, every step of it."
Elvira closed her eyes, taking in the warmth of his embrace. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that their son's path—no matter how dangerous—wouldn't take him away from them too soon.
But as the sound of Belial's training sword clashing against the wooden dummies echoed faintly from the yard, she couldn't shake the feeling that their boy's destiny was already in motion.