Klein remained lying on the concrete for a few more minutes. The sun warmed his face and the wind played with his hair, and despite the throbbing discomfort in his chest regarding his new life, he tried to prolong that moment of silence.
Finally, the metallic creak of the rooftop door interrupted his reverie.
He turned just his face, lazily, to see who had come up here.
It was a girl.
Short, really short, to the point of seeming like the Kuoh uniform was always one size too big. Her white hair fell straight to her neck, but two long strands escaped down past her shoulders, swaying lightly in the wind. Her bangs were uneven, covering part of her forehead, and on each side of her head there was a black cat-shaped hairpin, a detail that broke her serious air with an almost childish touch.
Her golden eyes, however, were anything but childish. They carried a coldness impossible to belong to a girl her age.
They contrasted with her small body, delicate proportions, discreet breasts, slim waist, narrow hips. So light that anyone could mistake it for fragility, but the firmness with which she held her posture debunked that impression.
Her fair skin seemed almost colorless under the light, and there was something in the way she simply stopped there, motionless, that resembled a suspicious cat.
He obviously recognized her the instant he laid eyes on her.
It was Koneko Toujou, one of the most popular first-year students at Kuoh Academy and, at the same time, his kouhai. However, she also carried a hidden identity: she was one of Rias Gremory's servants, occupying the position of [Rook]. In other words, besides being a student, she was also his fellow slave.
Klein raised his body a little, leaning on his elbow, and stared at her in silence for a few seconds.
Koneko, who had turned in his direction upon entering as if she knew he was there, blinked slowly when she realized who it was, and her soft voice broke the silence.
"...Senpai?"
Klein arched an eyebrow at the neutral tone.
"Yeah, it's me..." He replied without haste, adjusting his body until he sat on the concrete. He stretched his arms back, stretching his shoulders, and let out a lazy sigh: "I was just resting a bit. Getting some air. Don't mind me..."
He then turned his body and sat on the edge of the small concrete structure that protected the access stairs, letting his legs dangle outward.
He turned his face slightly, curious.
"And you? What are you doing up here?"
Koneko lifted the small obentō box she was carrying in her hands.
"...Eat."
The response was direct, as if there was nothing beyond that. She walked to the parapet, moving a few meters away from Klein, and sat without ceremony, adjusting her uniform so as not to wrinkle her skirt. She opened the box with slow and meticulous movements, revealing perfectly arranged rice, some pieces of tamagoyaki, and karaage.
Klein observed out of the corner of his eye while Koneko began to eat her obentō; he remembered the type of relationship he had with her or rather, the type of relationship he didn't have.
The old Klein, trapped in his depression, had never gotten close to anyone so deeply. He wasn't hostile, nor friendly. He limited himself to the bare minimum: greetings, polite responses, nothing that extended beyond the obligatory. Koneko, like everyone else, had been stuck in that empty circle of lukewarm interactions, where he offered no opening and, as a consequence, no one insisted after a while when everyone understood that he was that way.
The difference is that, unlike many classmates who ignored him, Koneko seemed to have never harbored any expectations. She simply accepted his existence as part of the scenery, without trying to fill it with forced sympathy. Maybe that's why her presence wasn't uncomfortable. It didn't demand from him an effort of socialization, just coexistence, at least, that's what his predecessor thought.
For him, it was almost a gift. He wouldn't have to force smiles or invent complicated justifications for his pragmatic or cold way. The natural distance that his predecessor kept from everyone already served as the best excuse to remain who he always was. No one would find it strange if he continued quiet, responding simply and distancing himself from unnecessary conversations.
That saved him from a huge headache.
Klein shook his head, as if ending the train of thought that had formed.
"So, enjoy your meal, Koneko...." He said in a neutral tone, getting up from the concrete edge and jumping down.
She just shifted her golden eyes to him, chewing in silence. Klein gave her a short wave with his hand before starting to walk toward the door.
The sound of his footsteps against the floor echoed softly on the rooftop until it disappeared into the interior of the stairs. Koneko, motionless, followed his back until it vanished from sight, with no expression on her face. She just turned her eyes back to the obentō, as if nothing had changed.
Klein descended the flights of stairs slowly, feeling the cooler air of the upper floor dissipate as he approached the muffled movement of the school. He pushed the door that gave access to the hallway and followed the familiar path to the classroom.
When he entered, there was no one. The silence welcomed him almost warmly. His classmates must be scattered around the courtyard or hallways, enjoying the last minutes of break.
Klein walked to the back of the room, choosing the last seat by the window.
The chair creaked slightly when he sat down, resting his arm on the windowsill and letting his eyes wander outside.
The courtyard stretched out below, full of voices and hurried footsteps.
There were ten minutes left until the end of break.
His thoughts were elsewhere.
He was a [Bishop]. That meant, in theory, that he had enormous magical potential. The original owner of this body, however, had never truly taken advantage of that advantage. He had limited himself to the basics, to superficial instructions, as if magic was just another obligation among many.
Klein frowned slightly, remembering what he had inherited from the brief coexistence with the wife of his 'master's' brother.
Even without effort, even without seeking to master the art, his talent was evident. He understood patterns, formulas, and magic circles as if they were already etched in his mind before he even learned.
It was too natural, it flowed without effort.
And that wasn't common.
Even without training, in magical terms, only Akeno came close to something comparable.
Klein rested his chin on his hand, drumming his fingers against the windowsill.
Magic is a phenomenon that seems to be generated from other forms of energy, and can even be manipulated by humans.
There are countless types of magic: from Norse magic, fairy magic, to completely distinct systems, each based on their own equations, including those used by gods and their respective pantheons.
Among humans, most magical practices derive from the teachings of the legendary wizard Merlin Ambrosius. His arts involved reading the flow of energy and arose from his research on the demonic power of the demons themselves.
All types of magic can be employed for various purposes: attack, defense, support, healing, and even for more practical or everyday purposes.
As a Devil, he possessed his own way of manipulating energy: Demonic Power. Unlike human magic, Demonic Power depends on imagination, creative capacity, and the user's natural instinct. Human magic, on the other hand, is based on knowledge and calculations, the mastery of complex equations that require logical reasoning. Thus, although both powers may seem similar, in essence they are fundamentally distinct.
In any case, magic is something in which the user applies their knowledge and calculations to predict results: "If I do this, that will happen." Of course, there are extremely rare mages capable of casting spells without relying on this rational process, trusting only in talent and intuition. However, such individuals are so extraordinary that it would take putting "super" at least ten times before "rare" to describe them.
He was one of those individuals.
That's why he was considered by the current Lucifer as the "Strongest Bishop in the Underworld" in a decade if he trained properly. In his memories, Rias tried to use those words to get him to train more seriously and not waste his potential.
That title wasn't empty; besides his enormous talent for magic, he possessed a formidable Demonic Power that was practically compared to a High-Class Devil.
All demons, whether high or low class, possess the ability to manipulate Demonic Power. This gift allows them to create and control supernatural phenomena, applying them in the most diverse forms of combat.
Among the Seventy-Two Pillars and the so-called Extra Demons, there are unique powers passed down from generation to generation within each clan, impossible to replicate by demons from outside. As a result of marital alliances between noble families, it is common for descendants of pure lineages to manifest abilities inherited from one of the parents.
To fully utilize Demonic Power, it is necessary to possess imagination, creativity, and good sense. However, the most fundamental requirement is the amount of demonic energy available. Members of noble clans, such as those of the Seventy-Two Pillars, are born with much larger reserves compared to common demons, to the point of rarely needing to train arduously to master their powers. Even more impressive, the direct descendants of the original Four Great Satans possess Demonic Power reserves that surpass even those of the Pillars, with the Lucifer Clan being the absolute pinnacle of this supremacy.
On rare occasions, some demons outside the lineage of the original Satans demonstrate Demonic Power reserves comparable to theirs. Among these exceptional cases are Serafall Leviathan, the current Satan Leviathan, and Diehauser Belial, supreme champion of the Rating Game, whose power is considered equivalent to that of the contemporary Satans.
Even rarer are the so-called Super Devils, irregular individuals born with a Demonic Power that far surpasses even the original Four Great Satans, including Lucifer himself. The magnitude of their abilities is so anomalous that many come to question whether such beings can truly be classified as demons.
Among the known Super Devils are Rizevim Livan Lucifer, Sirzechs Lucifer, and Ajuka Beelzebub. Of these, Sirzechs and Ajuka stand out, as their power places them among the Ten Strongest Beings in Existence.
But that doesn't matter....
Although it is natural for Demonic Power to manifest in all demons from birth, there are rare cases where demonic children present difficulties in controlling it or are even born without it. This was the case of Sairaorg Bael, a high-class demon who, despite being pure-blood, was born without any trace of his clan's characteristic power.
Among the nobles of the underworld, pride and hierarchy are rigid, and those who possess low Demonic Power are usually despised, including by their own family members. Sairaorg is a notable example of this: rejected by the House of Bael, he was exiled by his own father to a remote region, along with his mother, in order to hide his "condition" from the other demons.
From what he remembers of the original story, it is possible to increase Demonic Power through arduous and constant training, although the exact method to strengthen this energy is still unknown. In addition to training, there are alternative means to expand it, such as using the [Ophis Snake] or the [King Piece], a special variation of the Evil Pieces capable of multiplying an individual's Demonic Power by a factor ranging from ten to a hundred times.
As for weaknesses, demons are naturally vulnerable to the light powers of angels and to sacred weapons or objects linked to the system created by the Biblical God. However, those who possess exceptional amounts of Demonic Power can develop partial resistance against such forces. At even higher levels, this demonic energy can even passively suppress and disperse sacred power.
The natural weakness of demons against light powers or sacred weapons wasn't a real problem for him. His Longinus eliminated any vulnerability of that type, making that weak point irrelevant.
As for increasing Demonic Power, there were obvious but complicated paths. The [King Piece] could multiply his energy by ten, perhaps even a hundred times. The [Ophis Snake], through which he could further increase his potential, required joining the Khaos Brigade, not impossible, but it demanded planning and care.
Possibilities… but not options. Not now.
Because, deep down, he already had some ideas gestating.
He didn't need to limit himself to repeating the path others followed. He wasn't Sairaorg breaking rocks with his fists, nor a desperate heir trying to forcibly extract inherited power. What he had was… a range of advantages. His Longinus, his absurd talent for magic, his condition as an "anomaly" in this world, and mainly, the advantage of having knowledge not only of this world, but of many others that he could draw inspiration from in abilities or powers.
He quickly thought of several ideas he was eager to try after class.
Amid thoughts, the ten minutes slipped away like sand in an hourglass.
The muffled sound of the courtyard, which before seemed distant, grew until it transformed into a constant flow of voices and footsteps. The doors opened suddenly, and the tranquility Klein had enjoyed evaporated.
First came some scattered groups, classmates laughing loudly at inside jokes or exchanging fresh gossip from break. Then, like an inevitable wave, the buzz took over the room.
The Perverted Trio made their theatrical entrance, laughing and whispering about something that, by the malicious tone, obviously involved some unlucky female victim. Issei, in front, gestured with exaggerated enthusiasm, while Motohama and Matsuda seemed to have been born just to make secondary comments.
Right behind, Aika Kiryuu appeared carrying that lazy and naughty smile that was her trademark. Her glasses shone in complicity with any joke that arose, and her voice easily cut through the boys' conversation, like someone playing at stoking fire with gasoline.
The two girls from the kendo club entered next.
The environment filled with noise, chairs dragging, notebooks banging on desks, laughter echoing.
Klein paid no attention to any of them.
His expression remained unchanged, his eyes turned outside the window as if the world inside the room was just a blurred background.
It was only when the door opened again, this time in a firm and unhesitating movement, that he minimally shifted his eyes.
The History teacher entered, carrying the same usual air of seriousness. Her heels tapped rhythmically on the floor, imposing immediate silence on the chaos that reigned seconds before. She rested a stack of books on the desk and adjusted her glasses with an automatic gesture.
"Open your notebooks..." She said, her voice neutral and practical, cutting off the remnants of conversations: "Today we're continuing with the Meiji Era...."
The noise died.
The break was over, and the monotonous flow of classes resumed.
Klein let out a discreet sigh, returning to rest his face on his hand while the board filled with dates and names he already knew, but that, for him, meant nothing...
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