Noel wasn't sure how much sleep he got.
Maybe a few hours.
Maybe none at all.
By the time morning rolled around, his thoughts were still a tangled mess, but at least they had dulled into something distant, something ignorable.
It wasn't like he could do anything about it.
At least not right now, considering how weak he was.
The halls of Kuoh Academy were already bustling with students, their conversations blending into a meaningless background hum as he walked past.
A few people greeted him in passing.
He nodded back, but the responses felt automatic, hollow.
Noel wasn't in the mood to socialize.
Definitely not in the mood for morning class.
He wasn't in the mood for anything, really.
So, he went to the underground training ground.
The moment he stepped inside, he heard a muffled, rhythmic sound.
Looking inside, he saw a petite figure, breathing heavily as she pounded the punching bag with relentless strikes.
Koneko Toujou.
Her normally neat hair clung to the sides of her face, damp with sweat, stray strands sticking together.
Her fair, porcelain skin glistened under the dim light as she relentlessly drove her fists forward, each punch fueling the next.
I walked over and found a seat close to her.
After a few more sets of punches, she finally stopped.
I reached out and handed her a bottle of water.
She stared at the bottle in front of her, momentarily confused.
Then, as she looked up at me, it became clear she had been too focused on her training to notice my presence.
"Take it, I have more than enough for myself," I said, shrugging and tilting my head toward the training bag I always brought.
"Actually, take this as well." I grabbed a towel with my other hand and handed it to her.
She nodded, accepting both before sitting beside me.
Quietly, she drank, taking slow sips, then wiped the sweat from her face.
Just as I thought she was finally resting, she shifted, looking ready to start training again.
"Wait, wait, can't you rest for a while?" I said, lightly reprimanding her.
She shot me a look. "What about you? Since you got here, all you've done is rest."
"Th-that's..." She's right, I had nothing to say.
I cleared my throat. "How about this—you rest first, and then we can spar later?"
She raised an eyebrow looking at me, briefly glancing up and down.
"Hey, look, I might not be the strongest, but I'm still a Rook, you know?" I argued.
"Besides, do you really think all your opponents will just stand there respectfully while you punch them?" I added, pointing at the battered punching target she'd been using.
She mulled it over for a second before finally saying, "Okay."
She sat beside me, waiting silently.
——————✗—————
"Haa... hn... haaa..."
Intense.
That's the only way I can describe sparring with Koneko.
I'm not bad myself—among Sona's peerage, I'm one of the top close-combat fighters. But against Koneko? If she were on that list, she'd easily take first place.
Exhausted, I pushed myself up, supporting my weight with one hand.
The training ground around me bore the marks of our sparring session, the evidence of our clash still fresh.
Koneko had left long ago, while I remained, still catching my breath.
Reaching for my training bag, my eyes landed on two used towels.
One was mine. The other...
I might not be a pervert, but I am a man of—
No. No.
I quickly shoved away any unhealthy thoughts.
As I stepped outside, the doors of the training area had barely shut behind me when—
"Noel!"
A voice cut through the corridor, sharp and urgent.
Noel turned just in time to see Momo Hanakai jogging toward him, slightly out of breath.
He blinked.
What now?
"Is there something?" he asked, brows slightly furrowed.
Momo stopped in front of him, taking a second to catch her breath.
"Sona-kaichou is looking for you."
That got his attention.
Momo didn't wait for a response—she turned on her heel and started walking ahead, expecting him to follow.
Noel did, though not without a sigh.
He could think of only one reason he'd be summoned.
"I skipped class today."
For most devils, training likely takes priority, and skipping class wouldn't be a big deal.
Unfortunately, I'm part of the student council president's peerage.
He straightened his posture, shaking off unnecessary thoughts.
Whatever was coming, he'd deal with it.
——————✗—————
The faint scratching of a pen filled the air.
At her desk, Sona Sitri was writing, focused, efficient.
Beside her, Tsubaki Shinra stood in quiet patience, holding a neat stack of papers.
Noel entered the room, stopping a few steps in.
Sona didn't acknowledge him at first, finishing the document in front of her before setting the pen down.
Then, she took a slow sip of tea and finally spoke.
"I have a job for you."
Not a lecture?
Tsubaki stepped forward, offering him a file.
"Your target is Rufus Vaele, a devil involved in information brokerage. He isn't known for his strength, but his network is becoming a problem. We need him eliminated before he leaks anything important."
Noel flipped open the file, scanning through the photo and details.
"Alone?" he asked.
Sona adjusted her glasses slightly.
"Momo and Tsubasa have already vouched for your strength. You went toe-to-toe with Tsubasa in hand-to-hand, and your magic isn't far behind ours. I believe this will be a simple task for you."
Noel glanced down at the file again, fingers running over the printed paper.
After a moment, he nodded.
"Understood."
With that, he turned and walked out, the weight of the assignment settling in his hands.
——————✗—————
Noel kept his distance, shadowing Rufus Vaele as the devil moved through the dimly lit streets.
The man strode with an air of ease, but something about the way he occasionally glanced around made Noel wary.
A seasoned informant like Rufus didn't survive by being careless.
Eventually, Rufus turned into an abandoned building, its walls cracked and covered in ivy.
Noel narrowed his eyes.
Something felt off.
But orders were orders.
Stepping inside, Noel barely had time to scan the surroundings before Rufus suddenly stopped.
"Young ones these days," Rufus mused, his tone calm, almost fatherly.
"Always in a rush to prove something. Have you thought about what you're doing, boy?"
Noel wasn't interested in conversation.
His eyes sharpened, and magic surged through his body.
Power Boost Spell.
His foot pushed off the ground, closing the distance in an instant.
He swung his fist straight at Rufus's chest—but something was wrong.
No resistance.
No crunch of ribs, no impact of flesh.
Projection Magic.
The illusion flickered.
Before Noel could react, a presence loomed behind him.
"Well, well," a sneering voice echoed.
Six devils emerged from the shadows, encircling him.
Among them stood the real Rufus, his lips curled into a smirk.
"Did you think it'd be that easy?"
Noel's gaze flickered between them, gauging their stances.
They weren't weak.
He'd have to be efficient.
A devil lunged from his left, claws crackling with dark energy.
Noel twisted his body, exhaling sharply.
A burst of wind surged outward.
The impact sent the attacker crashing into a broken pillar.
Another rushed from behind—Noel raised his hand.
Lightning Arc.
A bolt snapped through the air, striking the devil in the chest.
His body convulsed, limbs locking up before he crumpled to the ground.
Two down.
Four left.
Rufus clicked his tongue.
"Don't let him cast!"
The remaining devils attacked at once.
Fire, steel, brute force.
Noel sidestepped a fireball, heat licking his skin.
A blade whistled past his ear—too close.
He barely ducked, the corrupted steel hissing as it sliced through empty air.
Air Cutter.
The invisible slash tore through the attacker's arm.
A pained snarl echoed, but Noel had already shifted.
A fist barreled toward his ribs.
He threw up a barrier—too late.
The hit connected.
Pain jolted through his side as he staggered backward.
A second later, a kick slammed into his shoulder.
His body protested, but his expression remained cold, unshaken.
The last enemy was already moving.
Binding Chains.
Dark tendrils shot toward him.
Noel exhaled.
Enough.
His fingers twitched.
Threads.
Dark strands slithered from his fingertips, writhing like living veins of shadow.
They coiled, hungry, waiting.
The devil sneered, thinking Noel was too slow.
Wrong.
A flick of his wrist—the threads lashed out.
They didn't snap like wires. They flowed, curving through the air, winding around the devil's arms, chest—then tightened.
For a moment, it seemed harmless.
Then they cut.
The threads slipped through flesh like it was nothing, severing muscle and bone with terrifying ease.
The devil never even screamed.
He simply fell apart.
Only Rufus remained.
His cocky smirk was gone, his breath uneven.
His gaze darted from Noel's fingers to the writhing remnants of the threads, still pulsing before they faded into nothing.
"Damn kid…"
Noel exhaled, rolling his sore shoulder.
He was hit, his body hurt—but his mind never wavered.
Magic still crackled at his fingertips.
His voice was even, distant.
"Yeah. It's easy."