For the last few weeks, our little group has stayed at a hotel just outside the Vatican City and met Vasco Strada every morning in order to train with him. While the arrangement is far from being ideal, the Sword Sovereign explained this was for our safety as some members of his sect may be eager to do something stupid and attack us in the middle of the night if we were to stay inside the city.
The training is harsh.
The giant of man gazes at my smaller figure with a relaxed yet serious expression on his wrinkled face. The cheap looking wooden sword in his right hand is too small for someone of his size, giving the feeling that he is holding a long dagger rather than a proper sword…not that it would make any difference if that were to actually be the case.
This very same scene has been repeated a lot of times in the last three weeks, the greatest Sword Saint under the sun faced the supreme youngster from Hell, and every time it ended in the way, my complete defeat.
However, there is a slight difference in this sparring session. For the first time since I have arrived at the Vatican, Vasco Strada is the one to make the first move.
The Supreme Sword Emperor steps forward (or maybe he takes half step) and the distance separating the two of us disappears in less than a blink. I bend my whole body to the left and get even closer to him, barely dodging his first thrust, but at that point he suddenly halts his movements and uses the flat of the blade to hammer my ribs from that weird position. A move like that shouldn't cause a lot of damage due to the lack of momentum behind it, but Vasco Strada does not lack power in any shape or form. My ribs are immediately shattered, forcing me to stomp my foot on the ground to create a wall of fire to create some distance between us.
Taking advantage of the distraction, I throw a ball of condensate hot air that he could not hope to see because of the fire.
"Decent." And of course, Elder Strada cut the fire wall together with the air ball with a single swing of his now broken sword, ignoring the big explosion produced by my attack.
I do not have time to react as he grabs my face and slams it into the ground with enough force to crack my skull, putting an end to our little sparring session.
"Well done, you are improving at an excellent rate." Elder Strada helps me to stand up. "Trying to stab my floating ribs with your fingers the moment I grabbed your face would have worked if my arms weren't longer than yours by a decent margin. Next time I recommend using a frontal kick instead."
"This Young Master is thankful for elder's pointers." I barely manage to muster enough energy to bow as it is proper.
"Don't mention it; training regenerator is more enjoyable than I hoped." He is a closet sadist, but I am not allowed to say that aloud unless I want to create a feud between me and the person who can easily kick my ass.
And this is the warming up before the actual physical training.
As a Sword Cultivator with a great focus on his physical body, Elder Strada's teaching style was much more direct and to the point during his lessons than Master Ophis', who could not possibly do the same due to her specialization in the esoteric arts. Intense physical training and some light sparring sessions were the core of his lessons.
Watching Valerie work was a sight for the sore eyes. Elder Strada would have her using the Sephirot Graal on some withered flowers after working in her physical conditioning. A sphere of pale light would shine brightly in her delicate hands, a light which curiously was not as kind as one would expect from a miracle brought into the world but calling it cold would also be a mistake; the light was simply light. That holy emanation was free from any stain, be it sin or virtue. A strange substance that should only be described as pure would then touch the dead flowers and soon purity turned into life. And just like that, the flowers would become healthy once again.
Contrary to Valerie's training, which consisted in practicing multitasking and learning to use the Sephiroth Graal instinctively without even thinking about how it actually works, Gasper's is a bit...simpler.
I glance at the spot where Junior Brother is currently doing some push-ups with a medium sized rock on his back. It is like watching a baby horse trying to stand up for the first time, but way sadder.
After the boy finishes his final set, the Sword Sovereign approaches him. It is nice to know that I will not be the only one getting his ass kicked today.
"Young Gasper, let's try something different today." The strongest swordsman rubs his chin in seemingly deep thought for a moment. "This is the first time I have seen a Sacred Gear like yours, but I suppose that Canis Lykaon is similar enough in nature unless I am remembering it wrong. Weapons like those tend to have instincts and personalities but lack a will of their own. In my personal experience, the best way to tame weapons like those is to keep them on a short leash while making them understand that following your will is the only path available to them for fulfillment... Beating them into the ground both figuratively and literally also works."
That seems like a sensible course of action. Valerie has already confirmed that there isn't any evil body-thief ring grandpa hiding inside Dao Bones, so at most he would need to confront the lost memories that surely are sealed in those Dao Bone.
"I believe that rather than attempting to contain it, learning to guide its apparent sadism during a fight would be more effective. Attack me with everything you have."
Gasper doesn't seem convinced. "What…what if I hurt you?"
"That's the point..." Valerie mutters under her breath behind me; she isn't the biggest fan of all the physical exercise that Elder Strada makes her do.
"Someone is worried about accidentally hurting me?" Vasco asks, quite amused by the mere notion. "I haven't heard that one in a while. "
As a Young Master, it is only right to motivate my followers when they are asked to risk their lives for my future benefit.
"He is the Sword Sovereign. If Junior Brother actually manages to hurt him, I shall offer him a boon of his choice…within reason." As long as it doesn't involve Ravel, it would be fine. I won't tolerate Junior Brother acting as a toad lusting after swan flesh...even if said swan loves to use him as her personal dress-up doll.
Gasper nods with a troubled expression on his face, shyly looking at the elder.
"Do you know that I was Durandal's previous wielder? Some call it the strongest holy sword. To be honest, there is not that much difference between Durandal and a regular blessed sword. The only reason I decided to wield that blade was because I could swing it freely without having to worry about breaking it by accident."
The Sword Saint chuckles at his own joke before continuing.
"At the end of the day, Sacred Gears are nothing more than a well-made tool. They can only be called strong when their wielder is strong." He offers an encouraging smile at the dhamphir . "Don't worry about hurting me. You are still not strong enough for that."
With those words, Junior Brother's hesitation came to an end as he gulped but raised a hand toward Elder Strada.
Shadow figures of all shapes and form began to rise from the ground while shivering in a grotesque fashion; their movements were unnatural and forced as if it were a puppet controlled by someone who didn't understand how bodies were supposed to work. The figures stood still as dark tendrils emerged from the ground and started tearing them apart until something could be seen in the broken husks of the shadows. Red eyes stared emotionless at Vasco Strada as the tendrils slowly approached the old man.
Vasco Strada doesn't bother to raise his sword. Instead, he punches the air putting all his weight behind his fist, dissipating the eyes with the wind pressure alone.
"Not bad, maybe one hundred of those shadows will actually hurt me." Elders Strada teases, making the dhampir blush. "Let's try again."
Senior Sister Serafall was wise in sending me here. Training under the Sword Saint has proved to be very beneficial for our growth. The Elder is an experienced teacher who was quick to realize that the best way to get Gasper to do anything is to offer him tangible proof that he would be unable to scratch his opponent even if he desired to do so. Junior Brother is the kind of MC who has an easier time fighting against opponents somewhat stronger than himself.
While I don't believe that my personal understanding of the universe has become any deeper since I put a foot here, things seem scarier than before.
Cultivation is not just a matter of guts and talent, even if I am peerless in both aspects. According to the holy book, strength happens when experience meets effort in the right circumstances. Maybe these are the circumstances for someone like me.
Despite the soreness of my body, I am filled with gratitude. Training with others is different from cultivating by myself. It is way more tiresome and hurts quite a lot...and I am honestly having fun.
"This Riser Phenex pays his respects to Elder Strada, who chose to take him under his wing despite the enmity between the Church and the Devil Empire." I tell him one day after training. "I recognize you as my half-teacher."
This is one of the biggest honors I can offer since I am already Master Ophis' greatest pupil. This Sword Saint should be proud of himself for being given this title.
Vasco Strada doesn't immediately reply.
"A teacher?" He muses aloud. "Young Riser, what do you think faith is?"
"A mixture of trust and belief."
There is no need to think too deeply about the answer. If I am wrong, the Sword Saint will correct me by saying something both profound and insightful that will boost my cultivation to new levels.
"Some people will tell you that faith is having trust in others, but naivety and blind trust can bring you down to a path of pain and regret." He imparts this lesson while inviting me to sit on the floor beside him. "Others will define it as the act of believing in something greater than yourself and then justify their recklessness and the pursuit of their personal beliefs with that."
I wish I had brought my notebook with me, but my peerless memory and impossible high IQ should be enough to memorize this.
"I am not saying that your answer is wrong per say; I just wanted to point out some of the dangers that said answer could bring if carried to its logical extreme." Strada scratches his chin, pondering. "For me, faith is an act of love. It is not supposed to be painful all the time; sometimes it will be hard; it will be confusing; you should meditate about it every now and then; but faith can never lack love."
"I love what I can empathize with and recognize the fact that I shall not always be able to truly understand it." It is hard to associate Vasco with that sheepish smile he's currently showing. "My apologies in advance for this. I must admit that I probably wouldn't have loved God if it weren't for the fact that He decided to live and die like a human two millenniums ago."
My head starts hurting a little at the mention of the god of the bible, but my brain is still working perfectly fine.
"Is because of that notion of faith that you take us under your wing?" I hope so, I don't want to meet my end at his hands anytime soon.
"I am just an old man who is tired of this conflict. I chose to train you because I wanted to try empathizing with you, so when the time to finally make peace with your people finally arrives, I will truly mean it." He sighs. "I hope that by the time we have to say our goodbyes, both of us will have a bit of faith in the other… which is why I decided to ignore the last part of Leviathan's request."
For the sake of my peace of mind, I decide against asking him about the request.
"I hope I did a good job explaining myself. I would be a lousy teacher otherwise."
I am inspired.
This Elder is trying to teach me, a Young Master from a Sect he used to hate, that the concept faith is also above good and evil, which fits my own Dao like a glove. Unfortunately, it is clear that I am missing a key piece of information to fully internalize this concept into my Dao.
I plan to rectify that right now.
In order to fully understand the lessons imparted Sword Sovereign, I need to act like him... and since there aren't any random young devils around for me to punch under the excuse of training them, I do the second-best thing and the morning after our sparring sessions I follow him to pray the rosary with some other elders.
Vasco Strada raises an eyebrow in sheer confusion, before his expression morphs into understanding as he continues with his prayers. The others elders don't raise a fuzz about having a literal devil joining them in their morning prayers, electing to trust their most capable comrade
As a Young Master, I respect the god of the bible as a most ancient and powerful cultivator who mastered the art of refining heavenly defying weapons as none before nor after him, but there isn't any love in that admiration. Since I don't have faith in the god of the bible, my prayers are a proof of my faith in myself and my potential to surpass the will of heavens who imposed these limits upon my bloodline.
It hurts quite a lot and the rosary burning my hands isn't making this any better, but this is a neccesary step on the path to immortality.
"Amen."
This Young Master is nothing if not as resilient as a cockroach. In the same way that I have already conquered sin by being born with a devil bloodline, I will also surpass the Holy and… I am probably losing consciousness because of the very intense pain.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The first thing I see when I open my eyes is Valerie dressed in a very elegant witch outfit; that pointy hat fits her quite well.
"Are you hurt? Do you want some potions for the pain? Which ones should I give thou? Will they be enough? How much does it hurt? Gasper and I were really worried; I don't want to go back to eating rats. Can you drink normally? Is the couch comfy enough? Are y…"
It seems that my little moon fae is so worried about me that she forgot to speak like a proper witch mistress. Is that even a thing? Shamans are a thing in the world of cultivation, and witches are basically shamans with some extra steps. Yes, witches are cultivators who focused on the elemental and soul arts!
"I was trying to gain immunity to the holy and become a being above both good and evil."
"Oh, just that?" She tilts her head.
Valerie touches my forehead with her fingers, letting a light that could only be described as stainless embrace my whole body before dissipating into nothingness.
"Done."
That just happened.
"Did you just-"
"I altered your soul so it wouldn't be weak to the Holy anymore."
I stare at her for almost a full minute without blinking, especially at her boobs. Her new witch outfit is giving me a nice view of her cleavage, which Valerie must have just noticed because she immediately goes red and use her hat to cover her body.
"Little wife, What do I need to do for you to agree to share my bed tonight?" I am so happy that I shall not point out that she probably has already done this to herself and Gasper a while ago.
"Too soon, too soon, too soon." She crosses her arms in panic. "I still need to take my tango lessons before starting with the morally ambiguous love potions and the serenades."
I should avoid drinking anything she offers me in the future...unless it is for kinky stuff. I am honestly fine with the kinky stuff.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It feels so good to not have to worry of getting permanently castrated by MCs wielding holy weapons anymore. It has been a week since I was reborn as the Holy Devil Sage from the Phoenix tribe, and the elders have grown used to my presence during the morning prayers. It is only a matter of time before I fully integrate the concept of faith taught to me by Elder Strada himself into my foundation and-
"What is a devil doing here?!"
Praying in order to prove myself above good and evil since the elders would get angry if I were to pee on a bible here. Of course, I shall not say that aloud since that is probably a rhetorical question.
In front of me stands a sexy young blue-haired woman with amber eyes pointing at me with the ugliest giant sword I have ever seen. Given that nobody is commenting on the fact she is wearing a skin-tight black suit that leave very little to the imagination and offer so little protection in the middle of a sect known for their conservative views on sex and the sanctity of life, I assume that she is an exorcist.
"Don't worry, I will cut this fiend down before he can hurt anyone."
Ah, she must be a Sword Saintess kind of female lead. That would explain why she decided that attacking the innocent Young Master was a good idea when none of her elders seemed to mind my presence.
I should keep an eye open for those MCs trying to seduce her. Just because I can regenerate, it doesn't mean that I want to be castrated by holy weapons.
Appearance-wise, Xenovia is my favorite girl in DxD.
...
Please, stop asking about Riser’s power level or what Aureos Core means.