Malerion liked silence.
Not because it was peaceful.
Hell never offered real peace.
Silence here was usually just a lie wearing a thin disguise.
But the silence he chose now was different dense, full, vibrating with things most demons would never sense.
Echo ripples.
Emotional threads.
Subtle shivers of energy drifting through his soul-space.
He sat on the rooftop platform of Sin Rouge, high above the neon noise, where no one bothered him unless he called.
Up here, he could think.
Up here, he could feel himself clearly.
For once, Alastor wasn't talking.
He waited.
Listened.
Observed.
Malerion closed his eyes and began the practice that had become his daily ritual stretching his energy through his body as if tuning an instrument.
Echo Qi flowed.
Not like a wave.
Not like a storm.
But like a clean note echoing through four rings.
The Fourth Ring was stable now.
Heavy.
Ready.
Resting like a loaded crossbow waiting for a signal.
Progress was good.
But it could be better.
It always could.
SMALL NEW TECHNIQUES
Echo Step — refined
He stepped — and space shivered.
A soft snap of displaced air, and Malerion appeared three meters away.
Not teleportation.
Not speed.
Just a controlled skip between overlapping vibrations.
Better.
Still imperfect.
Alastor finally spoke, his voice like dusty radio static:
"Closer. Not perfect. But closer."
Malerion accepted the comment without reaction.
Harmonic Body Reinforcement improved
A low hum spread through his bones.
His muscles vibrated in sync.
His skin shimmered with invisible resonance.
He could hold it for two minutes before heat built in his legs.
Still progress.
Compression Strike
He tapped a metal railing lightly with a single finger.
Energy compressed then released.
The railing cracked down the middle like cheap glass.
Good.
Silencing Field small version
A breath.
A pulse.
Suddenly the world around him went quiet.
Neons.
Distant voices.
Street noise.
All gone.
The field was still small just 5 meter wide.
But it worked.
OLD TECHNIQUES — NOW SHARPENED
Echo Pulse precision version
Once, it had been raw force.
Now Malerion controlled it the way a violinist controlled pressure on strings.
He could push lightly…
or smash a demon into a wall…
all with the same gesture.
More importantly he could bend its direction without moving his arm.
As if space itself started obeying his judgment.
Not perfect yet.
But on the right path.
HIS THOUGHTS, HIS OWN PATH
Malerion opened his eyes and studied the district below.
He felt emotions drifting through the air rage, fear, lust, hunger, desperation.
All of it leaking out of demons too tired or miserable to hide it.
For others, emotions were noise.
For him, they were fuel.
He didn't need to sit like monks in cultivation novels.
He didn't need long chants.
He just needed to listen.
And it was working.
"You're changing," Alastor murmured, voice unusually soft.
Malerion didn't turn.
"I know."
"Does it scare you?"
"No. Should it?"
"Only if you care about remaining who you were."
"I don't."
Alastor laughed quiet, approving, dangerous.
"Good. Then everything is going perfectly."
MORE NEW TECHNIQUES
Sound-Thread Manipulation (early stage)
Thin vibrating strands extended from his fingertips into the air.
He could keep three threads active.
Four made his head throb.
But three were enough to sense movement, tension, or sudden emotional shifts in a room.
This would become something deadly later.
Emotion Fracture Sense
He tested it now — analyzing the faint tremors in the air.
Truth and lies resonated differently.
Total honesty vibrated steady.
Lies cracked like splintered wood.
Extremely useful.
Very subtle.
Very his.
HIS WEAKNESSES — THE ONES HE DIDN'T HIDE FROM HIMSELF
His energy was strong, but…
Long usage destabilized his breathing.
His body still lagged behind his spiritual growth.
Soundform transitions gave him chest pain if done too fast.
Emotional overload from the district could hit him if he was already tired.
He acknowledged all of it.
He worked on all of it.
Every single day.
THE BIG THING — A VISION, NOT A TECHNIQUE (YET)
He inhaled.
Slow.
Steady.
And then it happened the faintest glimpse of what his future could become.
Not the Fourth Ring.
Not the Fifth.
Something deeper.
Harmonic Phasing.
Not partial soundform.
Not flickering.
True phasing
body, soul and energy vibrating at one perfect frequency.
Untouchable.
Invisible to physical harm.
Able to pass through attacks, walls, weapons, even some spells.
Too far away to reach now.
But the path was visible.
That alone made it real.
Alastor sensed the shift.
"You discovered something."
"Yes."
"Do you know when you'll reach it?"
"No."
"Does that discourage you?"
Malerion opened his eyes, and the Echo Rings inside him hummed quietly, aligned like planets.
"Not even a little."