Demon's Virtue

Shimour stared down at the figure of Eiro as he stood there in the form of a common imp, practically indistinguishable from any other. Whether it was his appearance, the structure of his body, or even the amount of magic he carried inside of him; this was truly a Lesser Imp in every single way, excluding the mind. After all, that mind still belonged to Eiro.

"That's... what you used to look like, or something?" Shimour tried to clarify, and the demon quickly nodded his head. He wanted to try and avoid speaking as much as he could, since his own voice was disgustingly rough and grating to him, but he still had to explain things one way or another.

"Yes. As I said, this is my body from when I was born. Specifically, it is equal to when all of my physical stats were '10'," he said, "I figured this would be a good point. Weak enough to get you a clear view of my techniques, but not too weak to jeopardize said techniques."

Slowly nodding, Shimour squatted down, as if to get a closer look. Right now, Eiro was the size of a young child, after all, "That's truly incredible... do you have the ability to transform to this degree in your real body as well?"

Eiro quickly shook his head, "No, this is just because this body is a duplicate. I can change and alter the things I recreate through the mirror quite a lot, and when it comes to recreating my own body, I can tap into aspects of my mind and recreate those memories themselves. In this case, this body is a fusion of the 'aspect of stealth' and my form as a lesser imp."

Curiously, the stealth master nodded his head, continuing to glance at different parts of the demon's body, "I see... in that case, let's get started. I'm pretty curious to see what you can do now."

The demon slowly nodded. He sat down on the ground, cross-legged. He wasn't particularly flexible in his body, so it was quite annoying, but it was doable at least.

Usually, he would have just shown Shimour his technique while standing up, since he would have the control over his body to be completely still, but with the body of a lesser imp with such low stats and stat values, that wasn't a privilege he could enjoy.

Just standing still, there was a constant shaking and swaying underlining his motions. It was pretty annoying, and felt almost like he was suffering from some kind of freezing cold. However, it was really just the natural state of this body, as if the existence of this body in itself was placing him into some kind of deep existential fear.

But once he sat down, Eiro could start working against that. Despite the low amount of mana that he had, he could still circulate it throughout his body somehow. His mana circuitry wasn't particularly developed, but there was still enough to allow him to do what he needed to do.

His mana began to flow through the mana circuits inside of him, and his muscles naturally started to relax, stopping the twitching. This was the first step that he had to do; making sure that his body was at a good 'neutral' point for the techniques.

And what followed were the techniques themselves. Eiro's senses were incredibly weakened, but he was still able to sense what was directly around him, at least to some degree. He could feel the wind on the exposed parts of his skin, and the rough dirt under his body. He could feel the cloth rubbing against him, and his heart beating in his chest.

That in particular was something he wasn't used to anymore. It was a natural function that he lived with until quite recently, but it was just so much more comfortable to not have to deal with that kind of weakness that he got used it almost immediately.

That being the case, the heartbeat still had some kind of benefit, since it was a good point of reference for himself. Not to mention, with this level of mana that he had, a heartbeat was a good tool for mana distribution. Luckily, he was still allowed to make use of the full extent of his mana manipulation techniques, since that was basically what Shimour was trying to test, anyway.

A wave of weak but refined mana was starting to flow out from the demon's body, quickly pulling back in. With every pulse, the mana reached a little further before being pulled back in. And with every one of those pulses, Eiro's presence was being stretched thin along with his mana. This continued on and on, until the pulse's radius was one meter, then two, then five, and then ten.

It took a good while, since Eiro had so little to work with, but it was still quite effective. In the end, it didn't really matter exactly how fast Eiro was working. Instead, only the quality of his technique mattered right now. Or at least, that's what Eiro figured Shimour was trying to evaluate for now.

If he wanted to see the speed of the demon's technique, then Eiro shouldn't have to change his body, or so he figured.

Before long, Eiro's presence was stretched thin an incredible amount. This in itself was already strong enough to count as the stealth technique of most experts, but it wasn't the end yet. Eiro knew that Shimour's technique didn't end there. After stretching his presence thin, he had to intertwine it with the presence of the world around him.

Slowly, the demon focused on the space around him. He once more tried to feel the dirt and the wind, smelling the scent of the nearby grass and flowers. But Eiro concentrated not on how he sensed them, but on the fact of their existence itself. The undeniable fact that they were there and that they were real. The tangibility of the world around him.

And after holding onto that presence, Eiro began to mix it in with his own. They fused together, as Eiro's presence became that of this small section of the training grounds. It was like they were one and the same. If one tried to sense Eiro, they would sense the training ground, and if someone sensed the training ground, they would also sense Eiro.

But with the demon's presence being stretched so thin, his existence was completely overshadowed by that of the training ground.

Those with particularly strong senses, those that knew how these techniques worked, or those with a mixture of both, might be able to see through it. Even Shimour could be seen through to an extent by Eiro, after all.

Experience tales at m-vl-e-mpyr

"Oh?" Shimour let out, as though surprised, "That... your raw technique is already incredibly refined... seriously, do you even need my help? With just a bit of time, you should be able to get to the point you want."

Eiro carefully let go of the control of his technique, his presence quickly fading back into existence, "I don't believe I have the leisure of time. With your assistance, I should be able to grow farther and faster than I could on my own. Even if it's not any particular tips or vocal instruction, let me observe you. Let me learn from you. Let me... steal from you."

Shimour looked at the demon with a baffled expression. Hearing something like that from the body of a lesser imp was more than just unusual, and he couldn't help but be a bit prideful.

"You really think you've got what it takes to steal from me?"

Eiro nodded without a moment's hesitation, "Of course. I'm a pretty greedy collector, after all."

The master of stealth let out a quiet laugh, "Fine. Get back into your regular body, and then we can get started," Shimour grinned, squatting down in front of the imp, "If you want to try and steal from me, then give it your best shot. Thievery is something not quite foreign to me, you know?"

Eiro slightly tilted his head to the side, bearing his crooked, rotting, and yellowed teeth, "Don't worry, I know."

Seeing the knowing stare in the Demon's eyes, Shimour almost flinched back. It was like he was being seen through; as if he was being read like a book, and everything about his being was laid completely bare in front of Eiro.

For the first time in his life, Shimour was actually afraid he would be stolen from.