Training courtyard.
Mordo, with a bandage on his arm, led Aron to a machine that resembled a dynamometer.
"Last night, I was studying some records about demonic powers," he said.
"Actually... compared to ordinary magic, demonic power is much better for tempering the body."
Aron listened silently.
He still didn't understand why Mordo would become a villain in the future.
But the current Mordo, when it came to teaching magic, had to be acknowledged as extremely dedicated.
It wasn't enough just to listen.
That's why Aron did his own research and stayed up all night reading everything he could.
"Your current physical condition already surpasses the limits of an ordinary human. How much exactly, you'll have to test that yourself."
Mordo pointed at the dynamometer.
"We'll start with strength, then follow with speed, endurance, and your ability to take hits."
When he mentioned resistance to attacks...
Aron noticed a pile of weapons on a nearby shelf.
Knives, hammers, maces, and even a Glock 9mm.
...Excuse me?
Why does Kamar-Taj have an arsenal of firearms?
Aron was briefly stunned.
Then he realized that Mordo's "night research" clearly didn't just involve theoretical reading.
This guy... there's something wrong with his head.
"Ahem."
"Let's start the testing."
Mordo coughed and said seriously, "This machine is reinforced with magic. Don't worry, you won't break it."
Aron said nothing. He stepped in front of the machine, clenched his right fist, his muscles tensed like a drawn bow.
Then he swung.
Boom!
The dynamometer shook violently.
The numbers spiked and stopped at over 6,500 pounds.
Nearly three tons.
"…"
Mordo stared at the numbers. His eyelids twitched.
At the peak of his career, Mike Tyson hit with a force of 850 pounds.
Aron's punch was nearly 7.5 times stronger.
"Alright, fine."
Mordo tried to stay composed, but his gaze immediately wandered to the weapon rack.
"Next is the durability test."
"?"
We're not even testing speed or endurance? Just straight to getting hit?
Aron raised an eyebrow. Clearly, Mordo was still shaken by yesterday's punch.
"Alright, I'll do it myself."
Seeing Mordo's impatient expression, Aron grabbed a mace from his hand.
After a few test strikes…
The spikes on the mace were almost dulled, but Aron didn't receive a single scratch.
"Hmm…"
"Looks like non-magically enhanced cold weapons can't do anything to you."
Mordo sat down on a bench and muttered.
At that moment, his eyes slid to the Glock 9mm.
"...Don't even try."
Aron rolled his eyes.
He nervously grabbed the Glock.
Honestly, despite his luxurious life, this was his first time holding a real gun. The metal was cold, but the feeling in his palm sparked a strange excitement.
What kid could say no to a Glock?
Bang!
A shot rang through the room.
But… nothing happened.
Aron opened his palm, the empty shell casing slowly dropped to the floor.
"…"
"Give me the gun. I'm locking it up tonight."
Mordo couldn't take it anymore.
Kid!
You're a natural-born maniac!
Of course, Aron didn't return the gun. He just silently stuffed it in his pocket.
"Is it time to test speed and endurance?"
"No need."
Mordo shook his head.
"Your physical capabilities are already on par with most demons of Hell."
"Aside from not looking like them, you're no weaker than they are."
"To be precise, read this book."
He handed him an old, leather-bound book.
"In it are descriptions of how certain demons from Hell use their abilities. You can use it as reference."
Aron took it and flipped through the pages.
There were many methods for using demonic power.
The most basic was converting power into hellfire, a classic attack from the "city of demons."
More advanced techniques included demagoguery, regeneration of lost limbs, and similar abilities.
But what caught Aron's attention was transformation of the body using demonic power.
"Body transformation?"
Intrigued, Aron immediately began focusing demonic power on a single spot, as described in the book.
He chose his right arm.
A stab of pain.
In an instant, his sleeve tore open, and the arm took on a new, terrifying form, thickened, with sharp claws, covered in red-black scales.
Like a dragon's claw.
Its size was completely disproportionate to the rest of his body, a frightening sight.
Aron swung it.
The nearby weapon rack instantly collapsed!
The weapons on it were slashed apart as if they were made of styrofoam.
"Wait… isn't this demonization?"
At that moment, it clicked.
That form... looked familiar.
Just like the Majin form from Devil May Cry, like Dante!
With raised eyebrows, he focused the power from his arm to his back.
In a second, his arm returned to normal, but then blood-red fleshy wings burst from his back!
With little effort, he soared into the air.
"…"
"Is this guy really a human being?"
Mordo was confused, as if he were witnessing something he should never have seen.
If it weren't for the trust he had in the Ancient One, he probably would've already used the "Eclipse Soul Palm" to pull out Aron's soul and check whether he was human at all.
"It's a shame demonic power isn't enough to transform the entire body…"
After a few tests, Aron gently landed.
A little disappointed.
The demonic energy he "borrowed" from Nastir wasn't enough.
He couldn't fully achieve a demonic form like Dante from the game.
"In the end… it's still not enough."
Humans are greedy.
Now that he had tasted what true power was, Aron couldn't wait to "summon" the next demon.
---
Later that day, after studying magic, he returned to his room.
He immediately took the ancient book given to him by the Ancient One, the one listing dimensional demons.
"If a randomly summoned Hell demon was this powerful…"
"What can dimensional demons even do?"
He opened the book, anticipation in his eyes.
After just a few seconds…
His face darkened.
The group of demons in this book… their summoning rituals were overly complicated and endlessly tedious!?
"Don't any of these guys know what simplicity means!?"