Ajuka Astaroth had seen many baffling things in his long, calculated life. From the northern migration of dragons for elusive, apple-like fruits to the paradox of mixing divine and demonic energies, he had solved mysteries that had stumped scholars for centuries. Yet, none of those puzzles compared to the enigma currently sitting cross-legged before him.
"How long will it take for him to be fully functional?" Sirzechs asked quietly, his crimson eyes locked on Dante's meditating form.
Ajuka turned his sharp gaze to his old friend, arching a single green eyebrow. "You plan on sending him to the front lines? So soon after his release? And adoption, no less? I thought you'd be too busy enjoying your dream come true—a sibling."
Sirzechs let out a breath, a mixture of pride and frustration. It was true; for centuries, he had wished for a brother or sister. He used to imagine what it would be like to share his life, his battles, and his quiet moments with someone who understood the burden of power. Now, that dream had been realized. Dante wasn't related by blood, but something deeper, something ineffable, had tied them together the moment they met. Unfortunately, his newfound brother had the mindset of a soldier and the eyes of a man who had walked through fire. Sirzechs hadn't expected that.
"He asked me if he could join," Sirzechs said finally.
Ajuka blinked. "He asked to go to war? Are all humans that insane?"
Sirzechs chuckled faintly. "I asked him the same thing. He told me, 'Only the royally pissed-off ones.'"
That shut Ajuka up.
As much as Ajuka could rationalize everything with logic and mathematics, there were things even he couldn't reduce to equations. The trauma Dante must have endured... The stories from their intelligence reports were not exaggerations. Some prisoners had been mutilated, others left broken in ways that never healed. Women were often abused for personal pleasure. Men were sold, tortured, experimented on.
Ajuka shuddered. Serafall had once told him, in horrific detail, what happened when she caught a guard committing those atrocities. She described how the man had frozen, from the inside out, over hours. Slowly. Deliberately.
Ajuka shook the memory. He didn't want his aura affecting Dante. He had to stay calm.
"He hasn't spoken about what happened?" he asked.
Sirzechs shook his head. "I didn't ask. When I found him, he had a barrier around himself so dense that it severed one of my Praetorian's arms clean off. I figured pressing him wouldn't help."
Ajuka's interest sharpened. "A barrier? Any sigils? Runes?"
"None," Sirzechs replied. "It was clear. It looked like... like space itself rejected us."
Ajuka rubbed his chin. "Then it's spatial manipulation. He might not even know it. Could be telekinetic manipulation of space at a raw, instinctual level. Like a muscle reflex."
Sirzechs exhaled slowly. "Sounds too advanced for a human."
"Or it could be simple," Ajuka countered. "Old Man Shax used to say that all powerful techniques were, in essence, simple. Just misunderstood."
That drew a smile from Sirzechs. Old Man Shax, a trickster and one of the 72 Pillars, was a maddening teacher but a brilliant one. His illusions could fool even the most perceptive devils. If anyone could manipulate sight and space on a whim, it had been him.
"He fell from the sky, Ajuka. Not figuratively. Literally," Sirzechs continued, his voice growing more intense. "He survived six months of the worst torment imaginable and still had the clarity to ask to join the war effort. That's not just conviction. That's... fate. Or something."
Ajuka rolled his eyes. "Now you sound like one of those melodramatic prophecy nutcases. What's next? You think he's a celestial envoy? Maybe one of the Heavenly Dragons' love children?"
Sirzechs pouted, but his retort died in his throat.
Both of them froze.
Dante was staring at them.
His golden eyes, calculating and sharp, met theirs without a word. There was no judgment, no mockery. Just calm awareness.
"How long were you listening?" Sirzechs asked, a little sheepishly.
Dante smirked. "Since you quoted me."
Ajuka flushed slightly but quickly collected himself. "In that case, did you learn anything about your powers while meditating?"
Dante nodded. "Your theory about cramped energy was close, but not quite right. I wasn't sealed. I sealed myself. Subconsciously. I channeled everything into physical defense. A reflex, I guess. It kept me from being hurt, no matter what they did."
Ajuka leaned forward. "Wait... you were never injured? Not once?"
"Never," Dante confirmed. "Want proof?"
He raised his arm and looked to Sirzechs.
"Try to cut it off."
"What!" screamed Sirzechs. It was a controlled outburst, barely enough to breach the noise-restriction sigil woven into Ajuka's tent, but loud enough to convey his utter disbelief. "Are you crazy?"
Dante rolled his eyes at the reaction, calm as ever. "We've been over this."
Sirzechs fell into stunned silence. Dante sighed but made no attempt to retreat or soften his request. Instead, he reasoned quietly, "The interrogators tried to remove more than just my arm with far more terrifying tools."
His gaze flicked to the crimson blade sheathed at Sirzechs' side. With a simple mental command, the sword floated out of its scabbard and hovered between them. Dante's control was precise, effortless.
"I've grown numb to the idea of losing limbs," he said flatly. "Because I can't. An ultimate-class devil—or whatever she called herself—tried and failed. She tried everything."
His emotionless blue eyes met Sirzechs' shocked turquoise ones. "So go ahead. Try and succeed where she failed."
Sirzechs, his mouth pressed into a line, took hold of the floating blade. Without much strength, he brought the edge down upon Dante's wrist.
TING!
The sound rang out like a hammer striking an anvil. The blade, forged from dragonite—a rare ore saturated with the residual energy of destructive dragons—was said to cut through steel and spirit alike. But here, against Dante, it halted.
A transparent film of light-blue energy coated Dante's wrist. Ripples shimmered along its surface like water disturbed by wind. Even as Sirzechs pressed the blade slightly, the sound of metal grinding against an immovable surface sang through the air.
Dante, unconcerned, lifted the blade with his other hand and let it drop to Sirzechs' side.
"I don't know the mechanisms," he admitted, scratching the side of his jaw. "It just works. I think it, and it happens."
Ajuka, who had recovered from his earlier shock, nodded slowly, clearly still processing the display. The calm, reserved young man they'd welcomed minutes ago had just tanked a blow from a god-forged blade without so much as a wince.
"So you managed to release the hold on your powers?" Ajuka asked, still trying to move past what had just transpired. Sirzechs, meanwhile, remained silent, eyes locked onto Dante like he was trying to make sense of a puzzle that refused to reveal its edges.
"Yes," Dante said, rolling his shoulders until they popped. "I had to borrow some of the energy in the room to do it, but it worked."
Then he turned his eyes on Ajuka. "Now, are you going to scan me for abnormalities, or am I cleared for deployment, Doc?"
Ajuka didn't comment on the sarcasm. The tone may have been dismissive, but the restlessness behind it was unmistakable.
"Please hold still and steady your breathing," he instructed.
Dante complied. Ajuka waved his hand, conjuring a network of squared green seals that orbited around Dante's form. For a moment, Dante felt an odd numbness crawling up his limbs, then it passed. The seals disappeared.
Rolling his neck, Dante stood and stretched. "That was... strange."
Ajuka nodded, recognizing the question hidden in the comment. "Side effect. I'm still refining the scanner formula. The numbness only lasts a few seconds."
Sirzechs finally rejoined the conversation, his voice a bit steadier. "What did you learn?"
Ajuka raised his left hand and conjured a hexagonal platform of green light, which rose into a vertical display. A full holographic projection of Dante appeared, glowing in intricate green detail.
"It's best I show you," Ajuka said, walking toward the projection with the enthusiasm of a scholar on the verge of discovery. "From what I've gathered, Dante's body is in a permanent stasis. His internal organs, nervous system, and even bone structure—they're all locked in place, like time itself was halted for them."
Blue energy flickered to life across the projection's nervous system, flowing like calm water.
Ajuka pointed to Dante's organs. "His metabolism is near nonexistent. I'd wager his need for food is minimal. More likely, he substitutes energy from the environment—like earlier."
Dante nodded slowly, confirming what he already suspected. He hadn't eaten in months, yet felt perfectly fine.
"What about my bone structure?" he asked, still watching the glowing replica of himself.
"Harder than devil bone," Ajuka replied without hesitation. "Stronger than obsidian. Possibly because of your affinity for telekinetic power. I believe you're unconsciously reinforcing your body."
Dante turned his gaze to the nervous system where arcs of blue lightning crackled between points like a neural thunderstorm.
"And this?"
"That," Ajuka said with rising interest, "is your nervous system running beyond devil-grade efficiency. Normally, such functionality would require enormous caloric intake, but your substitution with ambient energy negates the need. Your reaction speed, your mental processing... it's like you're engineered to survive."
Sirzechs, clearly intrigued, leaned forward. "Engineered for what?"
Ajuka zoomed the hologram into Dante's brain. The lightning-like energy pulsing within it made the others fall silent.
"Humans and devils share similar biology, but devils use about 50% of their brain's potential due to magical and sensory needs. Humans supposedly use only 10%."
Dante cut in. "That's a myth."
Ajuka blinked. "How so?"
"Human brains evolved for efficiency. The 10% myth is false. We use 100% of our brains, just not all at the same time."
Ajuka stilled. Then his eyes widened in comprehension. "That explains it! Devils need more power to run more systems. But your human brain is already optimized. It doesn't just adapt—it excels."
"I learned it in university," Dante added, a bit sheepishly. "Biochemistry and some minor neural study."
Ajuka blinked again. "I've never heard of human academia that advanced. Is it witchcraft?"
Dante stiffened.
"What year is it in human time?" he asked, dread creeping into his tone.
Ajuka looked to Sirzechs, who hesitated.
"It's been 430 years since the death of Christ. One hundred and fifty years since the end of the second major celestial conflict. So... in human terms, it's roughly 432 A.D."