Two years passed in the blink of an eye.
In that time, Rain had largely stagnated, watching Syme grow from an untalented first tier swordswoman to a third degree warrior of the church.
She was truly a diamond in the rough.
These years, under strict monitoring from the church, he could do little as the feeble child he disguised as except train and learn beside Syme.
But, despite that, he tried to distance himself so that he could eventually distance himself. The roles of mother and son could not apply anymore as it would only become a burden to his growth as his servant would now take up a different role in his grand scheme.
Today was his day of awakening as the disguised human child.
A few members of the church gathered to watch, but it was no spectacle. The circuit had barely lit when he first began to channel his mana.
This, however, was all according to plan as he soon commanded Syme to try to send him away to another place that would take him. And on the way, he would run away.
So, in a separate conference room at night with only Syme and Myra a conversation sparked.
"Are you really okay with sending him away like this?" asked Myra, questioning their relationship slightly.
"Yes, it would be for the better. He's not really my son and he wouldn't fit in our work now." Syme and her instructor had come to know greatly about one another. Sharing their views was not uncommon amongst the two.
"I had only encountered him by happenstance, and it would be better if he were to live a normal life. I, too, was a struggling adventure at some point, I would know."
"Hmm. If that is so, then it shall be. We'll arrange for him to have a family in a provincial town going inland towards the capital."
"Good." Syme said with a certain calm in her eye.
Meanwhile Rain celebrated mentally. He could finally get out of here. The pleasantries, the niceness, the worship, and especially the light, it was too much for him as a devil that opposed all these things. Worst of all, he couldn't ever grow in an environment like this. At least not in the church of a small Barony like this one where things were generally standard.
***********
A few weeks later.
In heavy downpour, a carriage was seen troddling through the mud and thicket. The carriage protected the passenger from much of the water, but it wasn't perfect, the intensity of the rain seeping through and dripping down slightly.
There was only one passenger, a young, blond child with a pale complexion. Before leaving, the church had provided him with a small storage treasure that firmly rested upon his neck. It could really only fit a medium stack of clothes but it would be helpful.
He had taken the blood-charged gem he had retrieved from the cave with him, something he had been hiding in a mana-containing box Syme got for him with her newfound influence in the church.
He had waited all these years, biding his time, until he could escape and use it to ascend beyond the lesser-imp stage.
And now was his time to make his escape.
Unravelling his human disguise and returning to his pale white demonic form, he struck the carriage driver from behind, killing him instantly.
He then dragged his body away, making it seem like a monster had run off with 'Rain', the child.
The actual rain falling would be the perfect excuse that wiped away the blood.
He ran far… far, far away from the main road where he found a small hole in an elderlime tree that towered high into the sky.
Retrieving the red gem from his locket, he swallowed it.
And in that instant, a powerful surge of bloodlust, the residual life force of all the victims that had died near it, rushed through his veins and mana circuit.
It was violent and unending; it felt like his head was going to burst as veins began to pop.
His skin which was always deathly pale began to swell in redness like the cheeks of an alcoholic.
He gritted his teeth and rapidly circulated his mana, using his dark mana to suppress the unending bloodlust that was being pumped into his mind.
It was manageable, but it would be a long battle.
So, cradled in that tree cavity, he groaned and squirmed and rolled around restlessly, until the final hour of his absorption came around and mana-like silks formed a dark cocoon around him just like the first time.
This time, however, there was a red, blood-like glow that permeated through the slight transparency of the cocoon, giving it an ominous look.
He had chosen this area of the forest because it was relatively void of strong lifeforms that could threaten him in his metamorphosis.
And as the cold winds blew by the tree unperturbed, he began to grow.
He couldn't see, but he could feel his body melting and being reformed.
All his organs had shut down seemingly except for his heart which began to beat at an impeccable pace; If any human's heart beat that fast, they would certainly die ten times over.
But for the esoteric evolution style of the devil race that varied so dramatically from one to another, it wasn't exactly unorthodox because there was no standard. Some devil's transformations caused them to completely disintegrate while others would cause barely noticeable changes.
It was indeed a peculiarity; but it was one that made the devils so potent. They were all so different.
The day would pass into the night and back to day. Throughout this time, the cocoon had begun to grow even darker in shade of crimson, incarnadine like a warring battlefield.
Yet, despite the warmth of the blood circulating throughout the whole silk contraption, cold streams of dark mana could be seen exfoliating from the outer layers.
The cocoon, under both intense heat and cold, began to ossify, forming a fragile but hard shell.
Like that, a few more hours would pass before–like breaking an eggshell–a black-iron claw broke through, spilling the blood-liquid inside down the elderline tree.
After the first hand was the next, then the head, still those formidable eyes, one dark, the other a soft lilac like the flowers in the garden. Upon his head, his horn had grown to almost 15 centimeters with streaks of blood-red running down in archaic rune patterns.
Finally came the body as he pulled himself out of the cocoon and stared out towards the horizon. He was noticeably taller, around 150 centimeters–still short for a male human, but certainly not a child anymore.
Digging his claws into the tree, he slid down the tree, cutting through it like paper and leaving a trail of black ice particles in its wake.
His breath was much colder now, and he seemed to possess a certain disposition towards a cold-natured dark mana talent. It was likely his inborn talent, the one that had just awakened as a sign that he had advanced to the second stage of power: Greater imp.