DxD: Devil’s Advocate

I dismissed the clones and sat cross-legged in the center of the training room, catching my breath. My reserves felt depleted, but not dangerously so.

『Energy levels at 43%. Recommendation: Rest period before further experimentation.』

"Agreed." I closed my eyes, processing everything I'd learned. The clones had worked better than expected, even with their limitations. But they were just the beginning.

『Your heart rate remains elevated. Perhaps we should-』

A familiar voice echoed down the stairwell. "Young master? Are you down here?"

Maria. I'd lost track of time.

"Here," I called out, pushing myself to my feet. Her footsteps grew closer, accompanied by the soft glow of witchlight.

She emerged from the stairwell, eyeing the dusty chamber with a mix of curiosity and concern. "The servants said they saw you heading this way. I wanted to remind you that dinner was soon."

"Thanks." I accepted the covered tray she carried. "How did you know about this place?"

"I make it my business to know things." She brushed some dust off a nearby weapons rack. "Though I haven't been down here since... well. It's been a while."

I caught the hesitation in her voice. "You used to train here?"

"Sometimes. Late at night, when no one would notice." Her fingers traced old scorch marks on the wall. "It wasn't proper for someone of my... status... to learn combat magic. But mother insisted I know how to defend myself."

Right. The illegitimate daughter, born on the wrong side of noble privilege. I studied her, noting the careful way she held herself, the shadows behind her eyes.

"What did you learn?"

"Basic defensive spells mostly. Nothing fancy." She shrugged. "Enough to survive, not enough to draw attention."

『Detecting elevated stress markers in subject's voice patterns. This appears to be a sensitive topic.』

"Want to show me?"

She blinked. "I... what?"

"Show me what you learned." I gestured to the practice circle. "I could use a sparring partner."

"That wouldn't be appropriate. I'm just-"

"A valuable ally. "Unless you're worried about hurting me?"

A flash of something - pride? defiance? - crossed her face before she smoothed it away. "Of course not, young master. I would never presume..."

"Maria." I kept my voice gentle. "Drop the servant act. Just for a few minutes. Show me what you can really do."

She stared at me for a long moment. Then her posture shifted, servant's mask falling away to reveal something harder, more focused.

"Don't blame me if you get bruised," she said, stepping into the circle.

I grinned. "There it is."

We squared off, power gathering around us. Her stance was textbook perfect - clearly practiced in secret for years.

"Standard rules?" she asked. "No lethal force, yield ends the match?"

"Works for me." I settled into a ready position. "Ladies first?"

She struck without warning, a bolt of force whistling past my ear. I barely managed to dodge.

"Not bad." I threw up a quick shield against her follow-up attack. "But predictable. You telegraph your moves."

"Do I?" She feinted left, then hit me with a sweep that nearly took my legs out. "Maybe I want you to think that."

We traded spells back and forth, testing each other's defenses. She was good - better than she let on. Each attack flowed smoothly into the next, no wasted movement.

『Analysis: Subject demonstrates significant combat training beyond basic self-defense. Fighting style suggests-』

I tuned out the System as Maria pressed her advantage, forcing me back toward the wall. Her attacks weren't particularly powerful, but they were precise, targeted to slip through gaps in my guard.

"Not bad yourself," she said, deflecting one of my counter-strikes. "But you're holding back."

"So are you."

She smiled - a real smile, not her usual careful one. "Shall we stop playing around then?"

I answered by dropping my shield and charging straight at her. She wasn't expecting that - her eyes widened as I closed the distance.

But instead of dodging, she met me head-on. Power gathered in her palm as she thrust forward...

And passed right through me.

"What-" She spun around to find my real body behind her, hand raised for a finishing blow.

"Yield?"

She laughed, letting her power dissipate. "Clever. When did you swap with the clone?"

"Right at the start." I helped her up. "You never fought the real me."

"Sneaky." She brushed dust off her dress. "But effective. I've never seen that technique before."

"Family secret," I lied. "Still working out the details."

She gave me a look that said she didn't quite believe me, but didn't press. "Well, it certainly worked. Though next time I'll know to watch for it."

"Next time?"

"Unless you'd prefer to go back to proper master-servant dynamics?" The mask started to slip back into place.

"No," I said quickly. "Next time sounds good. Same time tomorrow?"

She hesitated. "Your brother Cyrus usually comes looking for you around this hour..."

"Let him look. This is more important."

"Training with a half-blood servant is more important than your noble brother?"

"Training with a skilled fighter who doesn't try to 'accidentally' maim me?" I raised an eyebrow. "Much more important."

She was quiet for a moment. "He's gotten worse lately, hasn't he? The incidents..."

"Nothing I can't handle." I headed for the stairs. "But having backup wouldn't hurt."

"Backup?" She followed, extinguishing the witchlight. "Is that what I am now?"

"Partner," I corrected. "If you're interested."

We emerged from the hidden door, checking for witnesses before stepping into the hallway.

"Partner," she repeated softly. "That's... a dangerous offer, young master."

"Amon," I said. "When we're alone, just call me Amon."

She smiled - that real smile again. "Careful. People might get the wrong idea."

I handed her the tray. "Same time tomorrow?"

"I'll think about it." She slipped back into her servant's posture as footsteps approached. "Will that be all, young master?"

"For now." I watched her go, already planning tomorrow's training session.

『Query: Was that interaction wise? Subject's loyalty could be compromised by-』

"Her loyalty was never to the family really," I murmured. "Just to herself. And now, maybe, to me."

『Calculating risk factors...』

"Don't bother." I headed for my room, mind already turning to other matters. "Some things you can't quantify."

The System fell silent, processing that. I had research to do, plans to make. But first...

I needed to figure out how to explain the scorch marks on my clothes to the servants. Maybe Maria would have some ideas about that too.

I made my way back to my chambers, my muscles pleasantly sore from the training session. The old servant quarters provided a shortcut, letting me avoid the main halls where Cyrus might be lurking.

『Warning: Formal dinner in 47 minutes. Recommended preparation time: 35 minutes.』

"I know," I muttered, slipping through a hidden door panel. The shortcut emerged right by my room's entrance.

Inside, I found fresh formal wear already laid out - Maria's work, no doubt. Black and gold, House Beleth's colors. Simple but elegant. She knew my taste.

I showered quickly, washing away the dust and sweat. As I dressed, I caught my reflection in the mirror. Golden eyes stared back, calculating. The formal attire fit perfectly, each piece chosen to project exactly the image I needed - the proper third son, no threat to anyone.

『Detecting heightened cortisol levels. Anxiety response to upcoming social interaction?』

"Just planning ahead." I adjusted my cuffs. "Cyrus will try something. He always does."

『Previous pattern analysis supports this conclusion. Recommended response strategies-』

A knock interrupted the System's analysis. "Young master?" One of the house servants. "Lady Beleth requests your presence in the dining hall."

"On my way." I gave myself one final check in the mirror. Time to play my part.

The dining hall sprawled beneath elaborate crystal chandeliers, their light catching on polished silverware and fine china. Father sat at the head of the table, Mother to his right. Cyrus had claimed the seat to Father's left, as usual. My younger sister, Aria, occupied the middle seat, leaving me to sit near the far end.

"Brother!" Aria perked up as I entered. At eleven, she hadn't yet learned to hide her emotions behind a noble mask. "Did you see the new roses in the garden? They finally bloomed!"

"Not yet." I took my seat, noting how Cyrus's fingers tightened around his wine glass. "Perhaps you could show me tomorrow?"

"If you're not too busy with your... activities," Cyrus cut in, his smile sharp. "I heard the most interesting rumor about a certain gambling establishment in the lower district."

Mother's fork paused halfway to her lips. 

"Ah yes," I said mildly, helping myself to the soup. "Father and I already discussed that matter."

"Did you?" Cyrus turned to Father. "I wasn't aware. The debt seemed rather substantial..."

"It was handled," Father said flatly. "The matter is closed."

"But surely-"

"I said it was handled, Cyrus." Father's tone left no room for argument. "Now, I believe you had news about the eastern territory negotiations?"

Cyrus's jaw clenched, but he took the hint. As he launched into a detailed report about trade agreements, I caught Mother watching me. She gave me the slightest nod - approval of how I'd handled the situation.

The rest of the dinner proceeded according to the usual choreography. Aria described her gardening projects. Mother smoothly directed conversation away from sensitive topics. Father maintained his dignified silence, speaking only when necessary.

And Cyrus kept trying to needle me, each attempt more desperate than the last.

"Speaking of investments," he said during the third course, "I heard the most fascinating story about a certain business venture. Something about unauthorized use of family resources?"

"Really?" I sipped my wine. "Do tell."

"Now now," Mother interjected. "Business talk can wait for another time. Aria dear, didn't you mention something about a new cultivation technique?"

As Aria launched into an enthusiastic explanation of soil pH levels, I studied Cyrus over the rim of my glass. His composure was slipping. The familiar signs were there - slightly too tight grip on his cutlery, the way his left eye twitched when frustrated.

『Analysis: Subject displaying increasing agitation. Probability of violent outburst rising.』

I set down my wine. "If you'll excuse me, I should review some documents before tomorrow's lessons."

"Of course," Mother said smoothly. "Don't work too hard, dear."

I stood, bowing slightly to Father. As I passed Cyrus, I heard him mutter something under his breath. I pretended not to notice.

『Captured audio: 'This isn't over, little brother.'』

"Obviously," I murmured once I was in the hallway. "But you're not ready for what comes next."

I headed for my study, mind already turning to tomorrow's plans. The training session with Maria had been productive, but it was just one piece of a much larger game.

『Query: Should we adjust timeline estimates based on Cyrus's accelerating hostility?』

"No need." I smiled, remembering the look on Maria's face during our sparring match. "Everything's proceeding exactly as planned."

Behind me, I heard the dining room door slam open, followed by Cyrus's angry footsteps storming away. Right on schedule.

Mother would smooth things over. Father would maintain order. Aria would pretend nothing had happened. And I...

I had work to do.

The door to my study closed silently behind me. In the darkness, I allowed myself a small, genuine smile. Cyrus wasn't wrong - this was far from over.

But he had no idea what game we were really playing.

『Calculating success probability of current strategy...』

"Don't bother," I said, settling behind my desk. "Some variables can't be quantified."

The System fell silent as I pulled out my research notes. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new opportunities. But for now, I had preparations to make.

After all, the best moves were the ones your opponent never saw coming.