Cooled Passions Chapter 86: The Sleeping Spark

Chapter 86: The Sleeping Spark

As busy as my schedule had become, I still took some time to focus on the development of my own power. Such a thing has become even more important after my awakening of my Lucifer bloodline and the release of the seal on my soul. I wish I had more time to explore just what exactly had changed, but this had come at a very poor time, considering how many meetings and events had been scheduled in the lead-up to Ragnarök.

My Demonic Power was strange, something that I noticed during the Danmaku match with Koishi. It was minor and it still responded exactly as I was used to, but it was still something I was concerned about. Now, having had some time to nail it down, I could somewhat grasp the issue.

It hadn’t meaningfully increased in size, as in my total pool had ‘only’ become larger by about 20%. The big change came from how the energy interacted with my spells and my Power of Binding. It was at once both denser and more fluid. It responded much more eagerly to my commands, not requiring nearly as much focus and effort to get the same results. At the same time, it took a lot less power to cast said spell as well.

This went for all my abilities and spells, as the destruction around me could testify. Whether from Glintstone or Demonic Spells, the boost in efficiency seemed to be consistent. The Power of Binding seemed to be the sole outlier.

The energy efficiency seemed to be about the same, but the visualisation aid was much less pronounced. To Lock something, I had to be able to imagine it, as well as feel it with my Demonic Power. For example, when I Locked Seekvaira’s peerage from approaching me, the concept was rather easy to imagine and I could feel them pushing against the Binding when they tried to move forward.

Which meant that the current spell I was attempting to create seemed to have benefited the least from the boost.

It was rather aggravating.

The visualisation wasn’t the issue, just as it wasn’t before. The problem came from the amount of information I had to keep track of at the same time.

I heard the familiar pitter-patter of petite feet sounding out against the grass, but ignored it as I fixed the pure black orb of nothingness floating above my palm with a glare.

“Lock.” I intoned, watching as the orb started to expand, before fraying at the edges as the influx of information induced a pounding headache behind my eyes, causing me to close them and let go of the spell with a hiss.

I raised a hand and massaged the sides of my nose, the pounding in my head receding slightly as I did so.

A pair of warm arms slid around my shoulders, the hands they belonged to clasping themselves in front of my chest as a soft head perched itself next to mine.

“You are trying to force it.” Selene spoke, her blonde hair framing her as she looked at me with a neutral expression, “Going on any further would do more harm than good.”

“Did you do that a lot?” I questioned, causing her to nod and me to sigh, “I know. I just feel like I should be doing more to prepare, seeing as we are going to war.”

“Silly.” Was her response, as she pulled me gently by the leverage she had with her arms.

I didn’t resist, allowing her to guide me into a laying-down position, my head resting on her lap as she looked down at me, running her hands through my long hair.

“We are here.” She spoke, voice soft, “We are strong. Trust us, don’t just take everything on your own shoulders. You rescued me, give me the chance to do the same to you. Don’t be selfish.”

I laughed at that last part, “Don’t be selfish, coming from you? The second most selfish person I know?”

“Mm.” She hummed, grin revealing her fangs, “I’m selfish, which is why I can tell you that. Listen to me, I command it.”

“Fine, fine.” I sighed, closing my eyes and enjoying her affection, “You win. I’ll stop worrying for a bit.”

“Only for a bit?” Was the disgruntled response, her hand stopping its motion on my scalp.

I smiled, reaching blindly for her, grabbing her head and using the grip to bring her lips down to mine, which she did not resist. The kiss was languid, slow and without hurry. However, it was no less passionate, our connection conveying feelings that mere words could not.

“I am more selfish than you.” I breathed, the kiss ending but her refusing to retreat, “Sorry, but you are mine. I’m going to make sure you stay with me.”

“I don’t hate that side of you.” She replied, closing the distance once more.

---XXX---

“Lunch is ready for you. May I enter?” The voice was nothing but functional, carefully controlled, but Runeas knew the feelings the one speaking held for her.

She might have been too blind to see it before, but many of the things she thought she knew for certain had been shown to be false recently.

“You’ve definitely seen me in worse.” She responded.

It even had the benefit of being true. She didn’t know where the Sagan had found a wardrobe of clothes in her size, but she was thankful for it all the same. The dress, although comfortable and attractive, was not meant to be worn for as long as she had. If she were still in her own house, she would have just gone nude, but she somehow thought her hosts would disapprove of that.

So she instead would graciously accept the fluffy bedgown that they procured for her, as well as a collection of sundresses and other assorted, light, comfortable clothes. Should she be gratified that Damocles paid enough attention to know her size, or insulted that he never seemed to appreciate said assets?

Such distractions could not last, as her door was opened and the sight of the Sagan maid revealed itself, the blonde girl pushing through a trolley with a silver tray upon it, a spread of delicious smelling food resting atop.

Whoever cooked for the Sagan made her feel her own family’s employed chefs were a waste of money. Still, she was grateful that she was actually getting good food after assuring Damocles that she understood the position she was in.

She knew that it was just a tactic to make her more disposed to them, considering the power he had he could treat her much worse and she would only be able to smile and ask for more. Still, even if it was not out of any special consideration towards her, she appreciated the restraint.

The Sagan maid bowed the barest possible degree and turned on her heel, readying herself to leave. Runeas hesitated and almost missed her chance, but managed to speak before she had left.

“Naomi, wait, please.” The words cause the maid to pause, but she did not turn back towards her, “I would like to speak to you.”

“I am unsure of what we have to discuss, Runeas.” Was the reply, dropping all pretence, not even mentioning her title or Clan.

Not that Runeas expected anything different.

Nor would she complain or insist on decorum. That would go totally against her current goals. She was starting from a behind position, but she wouldn’t complain or make things harder on herself. She could play the cards she had been dealt.

“How about the distaste you all have for me? I can understand Damocles, but I don’t remember ever acting in any way badly to you.” She decided to be frank, any attempts at subtlety at this point could be misconstrued as obfuscation.

That caused the maid to turn, face carefully controlled but blue eyes flashing with restrained indignation, “Do you think that Damocles’ enemies are not our own? Your family must be rather depressing, in that case.”

Runeas bit back the retort that instantly rose within her at that, not appreciating any attack against her clan. She reminded herself that the Sagan acted very differently from almost all devils, at least in private. The Gremory might call their servants family, but it apparently went much deeper in this household.

“Perhaps I worded that poorly.” The admission did nothing to sooth the girl, but she continued regardless, “It feels as if it’s more personal than loyalty would imply. I don’t wish for bad blood to fester, so if I have offended, I would like to know.”

The girl narrowed her eyes at her, searching for something, although whether she found it or not she did not deign to reveal.

“I question, Runeas, do you treat everyone like this? Are you truly so oblivious?” She seemed to use the chance to vent, “What is the one thing Damocles has consistently asked for? To be left alone. Obviously, his involvement with Rias meant that was unlikely, but to show up uninvited, multiple times? To act so familiar with him, to give unsolicited advice, to be entitled to him playing along with your silly games? Surely you are not so stupid you cannot see disrespect when it is so obvious.”

Runeas’ mouth opened at that, her thoughts whirling as she went over all the interaction she had with the Sagan. She knew that they didn’t like her, but she didn’t realise how it looked from their side. She found herself rather confused, though, why such a disconnect happened.

She didn’t treat Damocles like the young devils of today, all made of glass and requiring special treatment. She treated him like she treated all Devils of old, all the Ancient Devils that she was friends with before the Great War. She had never faced this problem before, everyone knew and…

Wait. That was it.

Everyone knew that was what she was like. Damocles may have been an Old Devil, but he was out of time. He hadn’t interacted with her at all when he was young and she doubted his parents thought to bring her up. She was on good terms with Pandora, but they were social friends, at best, not particularly close.

Without that, she had been treating Damocles as a peer of hers, as an equal. Such a thing was a great honour, a massive boost to his status, her position as an Ancestor of their Race a highly coveted one. Many would kill for such consideration.

Yet, for someone who didn’t care for public regard? Who did not fear any titles? Such a thing could come across as highly presumptuous. More to the point, Damocles was a Lucifer, although he did not know it. A Lucifer and their Pride was always inseparable, the Sin followed their blood around like a shadow. To treat someone of such Pride so flippantly…

She had really put herself in a tough spot here, hadn’t she?

She realised she was alone in the room, Naomi having left after saying her piece. She sunk down on the bed, staring at the delicious food offered to her. She felt as if she ate it, regardless of its quality, right now it would taste much like ash.

---XXX---

The Room was silent, but not hostile. If I did not know any better, I would think the two women before me had become friends when I wasn’t looking, considering how comfortably they were sitting in the same room.

Well, I was never one to turn down good fortune.

My hubris was instantly exposed as I sat down, CC slicing across the couch and perching herself in my lap, leaning back into my chest like a cat who had made off with the cream. As much as I appreciated her incredibly shapely hips resting against my own ,I was not so certain I appreciated this clear attempt to make the other occupant of the room jealous.

Ranni, for her part, merely sipped her tea graciously and did not react overtly.

Instead, she spoke as if nothing was happening, “There is much that needeth discussion, mine Consort.”

“Yes.” I answered, giving CC a look that she ignored, merely adjusting herself to be more comfy, “I apologise that the past few days have been so busy.”

“You have nothing to be contrite for.” Her tone was calm, “Yet the fact remains that a great change hath taken place within thee, Consort. Whatever was contained within thy seal, it held within it a Divine spark.”

“So Damocles is a God now?” CC asked, her voice relaxed, as if talking about the weather.

“As Mine Consort, he has always laid claim to such a title. Nay, in the manner of how Divinity is considered by the people of this world, he remains a mere Mortal in substance. However, the seed is there, ready to grow into it’s own.” The Goddess explained.

“That does make sense.” I spoke, causing CC to look up at me, her head resting on my shoulder, “Lucifer was the son of a god, or at least a creation of his. Yet at the same time, I don’t think he himself ever became a God in his own right.”

“Indeed, this is my understanding as well.” Ranni nodded, eyes narrowing at the green-haired woman, “Although he had the worship of the race he created, this alone was not enough to allow him to attain full divinity. Thy spark, it seemeth, will require a specific stimulus in order to bloom.”

“What would the effects of such a thing even be?” I asked, “Sirzechs is not a God, yet he could kill most of those that exist. So it doesn’t appear to be based on power. I’m also worried about the mental effect of whatever happened when the Seal released.”

“Godhood does not change the fundamentals of thy being.” Ranni broke her one-sided staring contest with CC, looking down to her cup, “Power, ultimately, has little to do with it. Divinity elevates your being, turning you into something more than you were. What your deepest traits, your core of self is, that is what ascending to Godhood magnifies.”

I looked at her, trying to work out what she meant, before sharing a glance with CC and asking, “So, from what we know, there is some sort of Divinity that was sealed by whoever placed the seal on my soul, which could unexpectedly turn me into a God, which will make me… What?”

“More.” She answered, looking me in the eye, “Tis a difficult thing to explain to one that has not experienced it. The change does not occur to thy power, or thy thoughts, but at a deeper level. It is the soul that changes, that solidifies, that becomes more. That is what I wished to accomplish with thee in our meditations, Damocles.”

“Should you not be able to ascend him yourself, if he wants to?” CC asked, looking contemplative, “That should give us at least some control over when the change occurs.”

“I’m also interested in the answer.” I confirmed.

“I could certainly do such a thing, it is very much in my power. However, I refuse to do so.” Ranni crossed her hands in her lap, resolve in her voice, “The ascension of a God is no small matter. To do such a thing, it would require deep connection to mine Order. The Order of which Damocles is the Consort. Such a thing would influence him, especially with his soul in such a state of flux. I wish, deeply, for you to come into your own, without being twisted by my own desires.”

The last part she delivered towards me passionately, causing me to reflect. So, ascension, the ability to become a God. It won’t change who I am, except if it was influenced by another Divine being in some way. My biggest problem is that this is another thing that I will have to keep in mind. The pile of those was growing rather worryingly large.

“However.” Ranni spoke, bringing me out of my thoughts, “That does not mean I cannot advise thee at this juncture. The Greatsword is thine, a weapon that is bound to and attuned with thy soul. The power which it absorbs from those it slays will be as if your own, thus should you slay many Gods or Divine beings with it, that shall hasten thine ascension.”

“So, I have a choice to make. If I use your Greatsword to slay my enemies in Ragnarök, I can become a God. But if I wish to avoid that, I can fight without it.” I spoke, causing CC to nod in thought and Ranni to stiffen up slightly.

“If I may, Consort.” She spoke, slowly, carefully choosing her words, “I would rather thou… that thee decide… That…”

She took in a deep breath, held it, and then spoke, “I would that you become a God, that you gain Divinity of your own. Should you do so, I shall be able to aid you much more than I have, without fear of my presence bringing you harm.”

“If I become a God, I can resist the effect of your Order?” I asked, to make sure.

“That is mine understanding, correct.” She nodded, the conversation drifting to an uneasy pause.

Which was broken in a few heartbeats by my lounging Queen, who wondered out loud, “What sort of Domain would you claim, Damocles? I don’t know whether there already exists a God of Womanizing, but you would be perfect for the part.”

Ranni, contrary to how serious she had been for the conversation, let out a burst of laughter at that, her hands coming up to hide her smiling lips, “O-oh my! Indeed, that would be most fitting!”

I rolled my eyes, smiling despite myself as I wrapped CC up in my arms and started squeezing her tightly, “I rather think I should be a God of Patience, for dealing with you all constantly.”

“Come now.” She giggled, trying to wriggle out of my grasp, “You are not nearly as convincing as you hope.”