Sylvester appeared inside the bubble of reality, his eyes lingering on Azrael longer than they ever had before.

Azrael stared back, head facing in order to look at Sylvester.

After what felt like an eternity, Sylvester finally spoke

"What grade is your core?" He asked, voice firm.

Azrael gulped at the question. Not because he was scared of telling the answer, it was because of how scary Sylvester looked.

"Infernal," he stuttered.

’I suspected as much,’ Sylvester thought.

But he still found it difficult to accept.

There was no precedent for a demon possessing an Infernal core at his stage. It defied every standard he understood.

"Are you certain about this?" Sylvester asked again, raising an eyebrow.

Azrael nodded calmly, almost lazily.

"Let us test it properly," Sylvester said, placing a scale like device on the table.

It looked different from the one Alaric had used during his original assessment.

"All you need to do is infuse this with a small amount of essence."

He paused, glancing around briefly before narrowing his eyes.

"Actually, we will do this first thing tomorrow. Your essence is already too diluted in the surrounding air right now," he said after a long thought.

He preferred if Azrael was at his peak for such a thing.

Azrael simply nodded.

This was more than he had ever heard Sylvester speak to any single student.

It was also the first time he had seen Sylvester engage one on one with anyone in class.

"Continue with the exercise," Sylvester said.

He was gone before Azrael could even register the movement.

’So cold. He did not even look back,’ Azrael thought.

[The upside is that once your core is officially reassessed, your benefits will increase considerably.]

’If I ever start a business, I am hiring you. You always find an angle.’

[Guilty as charged.]

A smirk emoji accompanied the reply.

’Let me focus on the exercise now,’ Azrael said, turning his attention back to the essence drifting around him.

It circled him like he was the center of a small orbit, planets of mist suspended in slow rotation.

With a single wave of his palm, the essence began drifting toward the point he had designated.

At first it was simple. Everything moved as expected.

Then a sudden jolt hit him.

It felt like a nail had been driven straight through his skull.

Azrael nearly screamed but held it back, clenching his teeth until his lips split and blood began to drip from them.

The pain did not stop there.

With every second the essence continued condensing, it intensified.

"Stop," Azrael yelled, tears threatening at the corners of his eyes.

It was agonizing. Worse than anything he had endured before.

The essence stopped flowing.

No one outside the bubble could hear him, the space was fully soundproofed, but they should have at least seen the strain on his face.

They could not.

They were not doing any better themselves.

If anything, Azrael was handling it better than most.

[You are attempting to compress your entire being into a single point. I am not sure what you expected.]

The system sighed.

"It is painful. Very painful," Azrael managed.

[Endure it. Mastering this comes with real benefits.]

"I know," he said slowly.

Azrael pushed himself up onto one knee.

His essence had already scattered the moment his focus broke.

He looked toward the row of potions on his desk and finally understood why Sylvester had given them so many.

The cold, distant demeanor Sylvester carried no longer felt simply cold. It felt closer to someone who genuinely enjoyed watching others suffer through it.

[Do not overthink it. This will also benefit your skills, especially Singularity Generation, since condensing essence this precisely will make it far easier to enhance your attacks with it.]

The system explained.

Azrael’s attention briefly drifted from the discomfort.

’Why are you suddenly being this insightful?’ He asked.

The system did not respond.

’And you have been quieter than usual too.’

[Consider it an update of sorts.]

’You update?’

[More like a shift in how I view you. Nothing significant.]

’Oh, so you finally realize how impressive I am?’

[No. I finally understand how lonely your previous life must have been.]

’Insult or compliment?’ Azrael asked, raising a brow.

[Take it however you want.]

Azrael smiled and nodded.

Just then he noticed a presence in front of him.

"I noticed you drifted off. What happened?" Sylvester asked, his smile somehow more unsettling than comforting.

’Do you think he can read minds? Could he hear us talking right now?’ Azrael asked the system quickly.

[No. Every conversation between host and system is fully shielded. Nothing external can detect it.]

Azrael exhaled, relieved.

"Nothing. I was thinking through what I did wrong," Azrael replied, climbing back to his feet.

He stood noticeably shorter than Sylvester but did not let it bother him.

"Understood," Sylvester said, then vanished, reappearing back on the elevated platform.

"This also comes with the downside of being constantly watched," Azrael muttered.

[Only temporarily. Once the novelty wears off, people stop paying as much attention.]

’Fair,’ Azrael replied, nodding slowly.

He sat back down and uncorked a fresh vial.

’This smells even worse than the one you gave me in the training plane,’ he muttered, sniffing it briefly.

The system did not respond.

He drank it in one motion, his face contorting against the bitterness.

"Sometimes I genuinely wonder which is worse. Something bitter or something painful," he mused.

[We could test that directly. The shop has items capable of producing both at matched intensity, if you want a real comparison.]

’No need.’

Azrael felt his core refilling rapidly.

Within moments it was brimming with pure essence again.

He exhaled.

"Here we go," he muttered, releasing the essence outward once more.

Empty again almost instantly.

He stared at the surrounding mist.

The memory of what had happened minutes earlier surfaced briefly, but he pushed it down just as quickly.

The essence began to tremble, drawing toward a single point.

It was the same sensation as before. Nothing for the first few seconds.

Until he was halfway through.

Creak.