The next day followed the same rhythm as the one before.
Breakfast together, light conversation, then training.
A short break.
Then more training.
The cycle repeated itself until the sun began to sink behind the trees.
Arthur pushed himself harder than before. Each sparring match was short, but none were wasted. He refined his unarmed combat, tested the flow of his Anti-Magic, and experimented with how [Ruler's Authority] interacted with his body in motion rather than as a static tool.
With every clash, his movements grew sharper and more natural.
At first, his strength had felt like something external, as if he were borrowing power rather than wielding it. Now, it was becoming his own. His body responded instinctively, adjusting balance, force, and timing without conscious thought.
He noticed it most when he stopped relying purely on energy.
His footwork improved. His breathing stabilized. His reactions became cleaner.
Even when he held back, the pressure he radiated was heavier than before.
The others felt it immediately.
They could see him improving in real time.
A week ago, Arthur had already been strong. Now, he was terrifying in a different way. Not because of overwhelming force, but because of control. Every strike landed where it needed to. Every movement had purpose.
Rias watched him closely during breaks, saying nothing, but her expression grew more complicated with each passing hour.
Kiba felt it as well. He could tell that Arthur was no longer simply reacting. He was reading movements, predicting intent, and adjusting before an attack even began.
Koneko pushed herself harder, refusing to back down even when exhausted, determined not to fall behind again.
Akeno smiled as always, but her eyes followed Arthur with sharp focus, noting every change.
They were improving too.
Not at Arthur's monstrous pace, but steadily.
Their teamwork tightened. They covered each other's weaknesses more naturally, communicated with gestures and instinct rather than words. They lasted longer in group battles, even forcing Arthur to adapt his approach.
It was progress.
Asia, however, remained on the sidelines.
She sat near the edge of the training area, hands folded in her lap, watching everything quietly.
She did not dislike what she saw. In fact, she admired it.
But a small knot tightened in her chest as the hours passed.
Everyone had a role.
Everyone was growing.
Except her.
She knew her purpose. She was a healer. That alone was valuable. Twilight Healing had saved lives more times than she could count.
Still, watching the others push forward made her feel strangely left behind.
She did not enjoy fighting. Violence frightened her. Even so, she wanted to help more. She wanted to stand beside them, not just behind them.
Her fingers tightened unconsciously.
A soft green light flickered between her palms.
She looked down in surprise as her Sacred Gear manifested, silver rings forming around her fingers, each set with a faintly glowing teal gem.
Asia had used Twilight Healing for a long time. She understood it better than anyone.
She also knew its limits.
It could mend wounds, close cuts, and repair broken bones. But it could not restore missing limbs. It could not replenish stamina. It could not erase exhaustion or refill energy reserves.
Healing kept people alive, but it did not make them whole.
Arthur's words from before echoed in her mind.
Sacred Gears respond to their host's desires.
The change is rare.
The probability is small.
But it is not zero.
Asia closed her eyes.
She focused on the green light, not forcing it, but listening to it. She thought of the others collapsing from fatigue, of bruises that healed but still left bodies trembling, of the way Arthur continued pushing himself even when he should have rested.
She did not want more power.
She did not want to fight.
She simply wanted to help them stand again.
The green light trembled.
For the first time, it did not feel warm alone. There was a faint pull, like something reaching outward rather than inward.
Asia opened her eyes slowly.
The light between her hands deepened in color, no longer purely green. Threads of pale gold flickered within it, unstable but present.
Her breath caught.
"I want…" she whispered, unsure if she was speaking to herself or to something else. "I want to help them keep going."
The rings on her fingers pulsed once.
Then again.
Asia did not notice Arthur watching from a short distance away, his expression unreadable as he sensed a subtle but undeniable change in the flow of energy around her.
At night, Rias and Arthur continued their special training. Despite losing control of the Power of Destruction countless times, the Anti-Magic surrounding them prevented any real damage to the environment.
Arthur focused intensely, spreading his senses outward.
He was trying to shape his Anti-Magic into a dome, one that would neutralize any hostile energy released within it. The theory was simple, but the execution was difficult. Too much Anti-Magic, and his incomplete Dragon Heart wouldn't be able to sustain the output. Too little, and a powerful attack would break through instantly.
Right now, he could only safely draw on about one-fifth of the Dragon Heart's full capacity. Any more than that, and the pressure on his body became dangerous.
Still, progress was undeniable.
The dark energy shimmered faintly around them, dense but controlled, like a silent sea holding back a storm.
"In just two days," Rias said softly, breaking the silence, "I've grown more than I did in two whole years."
Arthur opened his eyes and looked at her.
"It's all thanks to you."
She wasn't exaggerating. For the first time in her life, she could truly test the limits of her power without fear. She could push, fail, lose control, and try again without consequences. Each time, she felt herself understanding the Power of Destruction more clearly, not as a curse, but as something that belonged to her.
Arthur shook his head slightly.
"Your talent and dedication are the real reasons. I'm just giving you a safer place to experiment."
He wasn't being modest. He genuinely believed it.
Rias was strong. Not just because of her lineage or her power, but because she never stopped trying. The novel had always described her as diligent, but seeing it firsthand made Arthur realize how much she endured behind her confident smile.
"With enough time," he added, "you might've figured this out on your own."
Rias looked at him quietly.
His words didn't feel like flattery. They felt honest.
She had grown up surrounded by people who praised her status, her beauty, her bloodline. Even her friends among the great demon families carried an unspoken distance, shaped by pride and rivalry.
That was why she had come to the human world.
Here, she could be just Rias.
Not a future clan head. Not a political asset. Just a girl.
Even her peerage, whom she loved dearly, looked at her with admiration and loyalty. That devotion made her happy, but it also weighed on her. Sometimes, she felt exhausted from always having to be strong, always having to lead.
Sometimes, she wanted someone else to take that burden.
And lately, whenever she looked at Arthur, that thought surfaced more often than she liked.
She stepped closer, the Anti-Magic field softly humming between them.
"I really am grateful," she said quietly. "You didn't have to help me this much."
Arthur smiled faintly.
"We're friends. Helping each other is normal."
The word lingered in the air.
Friends.
Rias nodded, but her heart reacted differently.
She reached out without thinking and lightly took hold of his sleeve, just enough to stop him from stepping away.
Arthur froze for half a second, surprised, then looked down at her hand.
Rias seemed to realize what she'd done and quickly let go, her cheeks warming slightly.
"I mean… I hope we can keep training together," she said, trying to sound casual. "And… enjoy moments like this."
Arthur laughed softly.
"Yeah. I'd like that too."
For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.
They stood there under the dim lights of the training area, the quiet hum of Anti-Magic surrounding them, close enough to feel each other's presence but not close enough to cross any lines.
Rias smiled.
Not the confident smile of a noble devil.
But a simple, genuine one.
Arthur stared at it longer than he should have.
He quickly looked away, scratching the back of his head.
"…You know," he muttered, "you really shouldn't smile like that."
Rias tilted her head.
"Why?"
"It's dangerous," he replied honestly.
Her heart skipped.
She laughed lightly, pretending it meant nothing, but deep inside, something warm settled in her chest.
As for Arthur, he dismissed the strange feeling as nothing more than fatigue.
After all, he was completely unaware that, without realizing it, he had just stepped firmly into the heart of another heroine.