Gasper's POV
Another week had passed since the Bael gathering, and life in the Gremory estate returned to its ruthless rhythm. Training, sparring, system updates, quiet manipulations—my usual.
But today's sparring match wasn't routine.
Today, we faced Grayfia Lucifuge.
Rias's peerage had made immense progress. Koneko's blows could crack enchanted stone, Kiba's blade sang like lightning, Akeno had mastered dual-layered spells, and Rias herself commanded destruction like a composer did an orchestra.
And me?
I wasn't just the timid Bishop hiding behind barriers anymore.
I had God of Acting.
That ability had become more than a mask—it was my canvas, my battlefield. Today, I planned to test it in combat like never before.
We stood across from Grayfia in the arena. Her silver hair was tied back, combat uniform pressed to perfection, gloves fitted like they were part of her skin.
Her expression? Calm. Distant. Imperial.
"Begin," she said.
The air cracked as Rias opened with a feint—two fireballs arcing toward Grayfia's left while Kiba blitzed right.
I moved in sync. Not to attack, but to set the stage.
My internal system pinged the ability.
[God of Acting: Active]
I dropped my posture, narrowed my shoulders, and let false fatigue wash over my features. My hands trembled slightly—just enough to look real.
My acting was more believable because we had been training for hours now.
The acting was seamless. None of my allies suspected it.
And then I made the first move of my plan.
Plan Phase One: Setup
Let Grayfia see me as weak support. Lag behind. Draw her toward Rias and Akeno while I circle wide with "erratic" barrier casts.
Phase Two: Fake Injury
Near the fifth minute of battle, I overcharged a minor teleport glyph, let it rupture, and flung myself back with a yelp.
Smoke. Dust. Cracked ground.
I groaned and rolled onto my side, clutching my arm.
Grayfia's red eyes flicked in my direction—but only briefly.
Perfect.
Phase Three: Blind Spot Strike
Behind the smoke, I whispered a wind channel spell and muted the sound of my steps. The moment Rias landed a full-powered strike that Grayfia blocked with her forearm—I moved.
I blinked forward using short-range teleportation, aiming directly for her exposed back flank.
My palm pulsed with compressed light—a knockout spell, dense and sharp. I aimed for her neck.
Almost there.
Three meters. Two. One—
And then…
She moved.
Not turned. Slid.
Like a phantom, she twisted her torso with no warning, caught my wrist with the gentlest motion—
And hurled me into the air.
I crashed with a heavy thud onto the training platform. Wind knocked out. Vision swimming.
A shadow loomed overhead.
Grayfia's foot pinned my chest gently, almost mockingly.
"You're very good, Gasper," she said quietly. "Almost flawless."
I stared up at her, stunned.
How?
She leaned down, brushing my cheek with two fingers.
"But I taught you that trick."
Later – Training Concludes
We were all laid out on the ground. Defeated. Sore. Rias panted beside me, bruised but grinning.
"She's still impossible," she muttered.
Akeno groaned, "I'd complain, but I love a good spanking."
Kiba just wheezed, "Remind me… never to fight her alone…"
Even Koneko looked annoyed, arms crossed while her tail flicked behind her.
But I wasn't disappointed.
No.
I was thrilled.
I had executed every move perfectly—timing, angles, manipulation, even feigned exhaustion. And still, I lost.
Grayfia was a storm hiding in a teacup.
Which meant I still had much to learn.
And I would.
Soon.
Venelana's POV
I stood at the balcony overlooking the training field, hands folded, lips tight.
It happened again.
Gasper and Grayfia.
At first I thought it was imagination—a flash of contact, a soft look, a touch too gentle.
But that day at the Bael party, I had seen everything.
Hidden in a velvet alcove near the main corridor, I had witnessed her kiss him.
That wasn't a joke or a game.
That was… her.
My heart twisted with disbelief.
Grayfia—cheating on my son. With a boy.
But the worst part?
I understood.
I had grown fond of him, too.
Gasper was different. More composed than his years allowed. Gentle, sincere, yet unreadable. He listened when no one else did. Stood still when others fled.
And lately, I had started calling him to "training" sessions more often. Pointless, really. He'd already perfected etiquette, tea service, posture.
But I wasn't ready to stop seeing him.
And now… after what I saw…
I made a decision.
I wouldn't lose him.
Not to her.
Scene Change – A Quiet Afternoon
Gasper knocked once and entered my chamber.
He was dressed in a tailored butler uniform—pristine as always. He bowed gently.
"Venelana-sama," he said. "Here for my training."
I nodded from the couch. "Pour the tea."
He obeyed.
I watched his movements closely. Fluid. Controlled.
He's not a child anymore.
We spoke little during the session. I corrected his stance once, teased his hair when he bowed too low—but I could feel the tension rising.
Outside, the estate was quiet.
Sirzechs and Grayfia were at the capital.
Zeoticus—off rutting with some exotic succubus.
Rias was training with the others.
We were alone.
"That's enough for today," I said.
Gasper stood to bow and turned toward the door.
But I moved.
Fast.
I reached him in two strides and slammed him lightly but firmly against the polished wall. One hand over his chest. The other gripping his chin.
His eyes widened in shock.
"I know," I whispered. "About you and Grayfia."
He froze.
I leaned closer. "Do you think Sirzechs will forgive betrayal from the boy he raised as family?"
He swallowed.
"I could expose you, you know," I continued, my voice honeyed and venom-laced. "One word. That's all it takes."
He trembled.
"…You'll do everything I say. From now on."
He nodded slowly, eyes wide, lips parted.
Perfect.
Gasper's POV
Venelana's fingers clenched my collar and she was licking my ears.
She smirked as I squirmed under her administrations.
Her words were sharp—poison-tipped threats, delivered with elegance.
And I?
I played the part of the cornered deer.
[God of Acting: Active]
My body trembled. My eyes shone with false fear.
But inside?
I was laughing.
I hadn't expected her to make the first move.
She was finally mine to break.
"Strip," she whispered, eyes devouring me.
I hesitated—on purpose—then began to undo the buttons of my vest.
Venelana's fingers grazed my chest. Her breathing hitched. Her touch was slow, reverent, desperate.
She was falling.
And she didn't even know it yet.
End of Chapter 13