The Gremory estate's study room was heavy with silence.
Scrolls lay across the long table like evidence in a trial. A half-burnt quill sat in an inkwell that smelled faintly of peaches and ozone. On one side of the room stood Kael's tutors—each with strained expressions and twitchy eyes. On the other sat Venelana, her fingers steepled, her posture like the calm before a magical hurricane. Grayfia stood behind her, icy and poised. Kael's father, casual and composed, nursed a cup of tea with the weariness of a man who'd seen it all—and then raised it.
Kael hovered above his chair, upside-down, legs crossed and humming a tune that didn't exist.
"We've reached a consensus," said the lead tutor. "Your son is… a reality disruption in humanoid form."
Venelana's gaze narrowed. "Speak plainly."
The man adjusted his collar. "He's unteachable."
A second tutor—a woman with tangled hair and ink on her face—unrolled a scorched scroll and placed it down.
"This was his response to a question about the Three Pillars. He answered: 'Ask the duck. He was there.' Then he drew a duck in a toga wielding a spear."
Kael slowly rotated and landed in his seat, upright. "And yet you still don't trust the duck."
Grayfia's brow twitched.
A third tutor produced another ruined sheet. "This was his practical spellcasting exam. He didn't cast a spell. He summoned… a rotating cube with floating text that whispered forgotten languages and sprayed glitter on the test proctor."
Kael grinned. "It was a learning tool."
"It learned nothing. It tried to bite me!"
"I never said it was well-adjusted."
Venelana exhaled slowly. "What about physical education?"
A fourth tutor raised a trembling hand. "He refused to walk. He levitated in circles around the arena and whispered quotes from ancient philosophers. Then, he pulled out a paper fan that whistled whenever anyone told a lie."
"It's still doing that," another tutor added miserably. "It's following me home."
Grayfia's voice was low and sharp. "Where does he get these items?"
Everyone looked to Kael.
He smiled innocently. "They… find me."
The room fell uncomfortably quiet.
Venelana stood, her expression unreadable. "We will be re-testing him. Thoroughly. In every subject. And if he fails again, there will be consequences."
Kael tilted his head. "Define failure."
"Grayfia," Venelana said, without looking.
Grayfia moved in a blur, hand already mid-swing.
Kael disappeared before she could connect—reappearing calmly upside-down near the window with his arms folded behind his head.
"Really now," he called back, "if you're going to slap me, at least catch me first."
Grayfia's expression barely changed. "One day."
"Not today."
Venelana sat again, already regretting everything.
Kael's father took another sip of tea and nodded toward the tutors. "We appreciate your honesty. Prepare your materials. Exams begin tomorrow."
The tutors bowed—some reluctantly.
Kael floated back toward his seat, brushing dust off the air like he was tidying an invisible cushion.
"Should I bring my own test scrolls?" he asked. "I've got a few that self-grade in riddles."
Grayfia stared him down. "You will use the scrolls we provide."
Kael nodded solemnly. "Understood. But if they scream, that's not on me."
The following morning, Kael arrived at the Gremory examination hall floating half a meter above the ground, arms crossed, wearing what looked like formal robes stitched together from multiple house colors—none of which matched.
Grayfia was already there, standing like a disciplinary statue next to a long table stacked with scrolls, ink, and enchanted quills. The tutors sat behind it, looking haunted.
Venelana sat in a chair near the back, hands folded. Beside her, Rias happily munched on biscuits and kicked her legs in rhythm with Kael's floating bob.
"Today," Grayfia said, "you will take formal examinations in magical theory, history, etiquette, and practical spell usage. You will follow directions. You will answer correctly. And you will not summon anything."
Kael raised a finger. "If something appears on its own, is that technically summoning?"
Grayfia blinked once. "If something appears, I will make it disappear. Understood?"
Kael gave a two-finger salute and lowered himself gently into the seat. The chair groaned, as if already exhausted.
Exam 1: Magical Theory
The quill hovered before Kael, ready to transcribe. The first question appeared magically above the scroll:
"Explain the function of a magic circle and its elemental affinity system."
Kael tapped his chin. "Good question."
He began writing:
'A circle is round. So is the sun. But the sun is fire, which implies that circles are fire. But water extinguishes fire—meaning water is dominant. Yet ice is more solid than water, which suggests time. Thus, the answer is: yes.'
The tutors stared. One started twitching.
Exam 2: History
Kael opened the scroll and saw the prompt:
"Describe the war between the original Satans and Heaven."
He wrote:
'War is the extension of politics by other means. But when angels and devils argue, the sky burns and books write themselves. Sirzechs is red. That's all that matters.'
Then he drew a very accurate stick figure of Sirzechs vaporizing a mountain.
Exam 3: Practical Spell Use
Grayfia led him into a courtyard where magical targets floated in the air.
"Begin," she said.
Kael raised a hand… then paused.
From his sleeve, something plopped into his palm.
A small orb shaped like a baby onion with legs. It hissed and fired a beam of pure light that obliterated the target, then vanished into sparkles.
Everyone stared.
Kael shrugged. "Accidental success is still success."
Exam 4: Etiquette
Back at the table, Kael was given a list of noble titles and asked to address them in proper order. He bowed—perfectly—and said:
"To the Grand Archduke of Mid-Abyssal Economies, I say: your hair is nice and your budget terrifying."
He turned to the next tutor.
"And to the Sub-Lord of Left-Forking Protocol: your title is a war crime."
Venelana put a hand to her face. Rias giggled into her biscuit.
When the final scroll vanished in a puff of evaluation magic, the room was silent. The enchanted quills tallied scores on their own. One caught fire, then reformed into a glowing question mark.
Kael stood, brushed off his robes, and smiled politely.
"Let me know if I passed. Or broke the system."
He floated away backwards, waving.
Grayfia sighed. "I don't know if he failed… or redefined the criteria."
One of the tutors looked down at the flaming question mark and muttered, "I think he graded us."
The next day, the Gremory estate's formal dining hall had been converted into a miniature battlefield—disguised as a noble etiquette examination. Polished silverware, embroidered napkins, imported cloth runners, and gold-accented dishes sparkled under floating chandeliers.
At the head of the table stood Lady Drevalia Nix, the Underworld's most notorious etiquette instructor. Rumor said she once made a noble cry because he used the wrong spoon to threaten someone.
Grayfia stood beside her with clipboard in hand, stoic and sharp.
"This is your final test," she told Kael, who was—naturally—floating in upside-down from the ceiling.
Venelana whispered to her husband, "I'm starting to miss the years when he couldn't fly."
He nodded grimly.
Kael landed gracefully in his seat, dressed in formal noblewear… though something was immediately off.
His suit was flawless. His posture impeccable.
But the silver spoon on his left shoulder was humming. It vibrated faintly, as though awaiting judgment.
Lady Drevalia narrowed her eyes. "Why… is that utensil attached to you?"
Kael patted it. "He prefers to be part of the conversation."
The spoon chirped: "Long live symmetrical chaos."
Lady Drevalia twitched.
The meal began. Courses were served. Rias sat nearby, eyes wide and full of wonder. Grayfia signaled for Kael to demonstrate each action properly.
Kael did. Technically.
He bowed with mathematical precision—exactly 45.000 degrees.
He placed the napkin on his lap… using telekinesis.
He used the correct fork—to levitate his peas into a perfect spiral before eating them midair.
Lady Drevalia's left eye started to drift.
Then came the teacup.
Kael lifted it gently. It purred.
Rias squealed with delight. "Nii-san, your cup is purringgg!"
Venelana closed her eyes in horror.
Lady Drevalia approached Kael slowly. "Explain."
Kael sipped the tea, then smiled. "This one came to me this morning. Appeared in my sock drawer. Said it wanted to be helpful."
Grayfia muttered, "We checked his room for summoning circles. There were none."
The spoon began whistling.
At dessert, Kael calmly summoned a folded napkin from inside his sleeve. It unfolded itself midair, turned into an origami swan, and gently wiped Rias's mouth before bowing and vanishing.
Rias clapped. "Swan napkin!"
Lady Drevalia dropped her clipboard.
When the test concluded, Grayfia escorted the etiquette instructor to the sitting room.
"How did he do?" Venelana asked.
Lady Drevalia, face pale and trembling, spoke in a whisper: "He followed every rule. Flawlessly. But with… wrongness."
Grayfia translated. "He passed. Somehow."
Rias poked her head in from the hallway, proudly wearing Kael's enchanted napkin as a cape. "I'm gonna be just like Nii-san when I grow up!"
Venelana stared into the void. "Dear Satan no."
Meanwhile, Kael was floating upside-down outside the window, drawing air glyphs with a glowing spoon.
He looked inside, grinned, and mouthed: "Etiquette complete."
Then vanished in a poof of polite smoke.
The Gremory estate's private parlor was quiet.
Venelana sat at the center table, back straight, hands folded—an image of noble control. Her expression, however, betrayed a building storm. The Gremory patriarch sat beside her, contemplative, sipping wine as if it were a calming potion. Grayfia stood to the side, skimming a series of finalized examination reports.
The tutors had all left by now. One had run away. One muttered something about "the tea screaming at him." The third had simply vanished—either through teleportation or sheer willpower.
Kael, notably absent from the meeting, was currently floating in the courtyard, lying on his back in the air while rearranging tiny floating blocks into cryptic phrases like "Nobility is just advanced cosplay."
Venelana finally broke the silence. "I don't know whether we should punish him… or frame his behavior as modern genius."
Grayfia lowered one of the reports. "He passed all subjects."
Venelana's eyes narrowed. "How?"
"By technically meeting the magical criteria, despite warping every answer into something absurd. His spell diagrams shouldn't work… but they do. His etiquette was flawless… but surreal. One of the enchanted quills used for grading committed spontaneous self-combustion after writing: 'We yield.'"
The Gremory patriarch chuckled behind his glass. "I knew he'd pass. Just not in a way anyone would be able to explain."
Grayfia set the final scroll down. "He's unpredictable, disrespectful, and completely unconcerned with tradition. But… I believe he knows far more than he lets on."
Venelana paced slowly toward the window. "He's evasive. He trolls his instructors. Mocked both you and me. And yet somehow, he hasn't gotten worse—just weirder."
Grayfia hesitated. "We've never seen him truly train."
That made Venelana stop. "You're right."
The Gremory patriarch nodded. "I've never caught him in the courtyard. Or the library. Not once."
"And yet he keeps improving," Grayfia added. "Passing tests, mastering new magical principles… with no formal practice. He never asks questions. Never reads aloud. Never trains with others."
Venelana frowned. "So where is he learning it all?"
"Privately," Grayfia said. "Secretly. On his own terms. Possibly outside the estate altogether."
Venelana turned to the window, where Kael was now lazily spinning in midair, his blindfold pristine and serene.
"He's hiding something."
Their patriarch raised a brow. "Power?"
Venelana nodded slowly. "Power. Intent. Purpose. Maybe all three."
"Do we intervene?" Grayfia asked.
"No," Venelana said softly. "We observe. For now."
Just then, Kael poked his head through the open window—still floating horizontally.
"I'd like to request extra credit," he said with a smile.
"For what?" Grayfia asked flatly.
"For dramatic flair."
He vanished before she could throw a scroll at him.
Rias ran in a moment later with a glowing feather behind her ear. "Nii-san made me a hat! It sings!"
Venelana stared at her.
The feather let out a soft "la~" and turned into a tiny trumpet.
Venelana sighed. "Grayfia… prepare wine."
"Already did."
The dining hall had been converted once more—but not for lessons. This time, it was a war council.
Venelana, seated at the head of the table, looked over a parchment labeled Kael Gremory: Official Academic Review. Her face was unreadable.
Grayfia stood beside her with crossed arms and a distinct twitch in her left eye. Rias sat nearby, swinging her legs and humming a song that sounded suspiciously like it had been taught by a sentient spoon.
The Gremory patriarch, calm as ever, spoke first. "So. What's the final verdict?"
Venelana held up the scroll. "Passed. Everything. Barely. But undeniably."
"He did so in a way that broke two grading systems," Grayfia added.
"And one etiquette instructor," Venelana sighed.
Kael wasn't present. He had "excused himself" fifteen minutes earlier by floating out the window while announcing, "I have a date with a cloud."
Venelana placed the scroll down and tapped the table.
"I've come to a decision. One I believe we all already agreed on, just not out loud."
She looked between them.
"No more noble functions. No more diplomatic playdates. No more dragging him into polite society to 'fix' him."
Grayfia raised a brow. "So we isolate him?"
"We protect the Underworld from him," Venelana corrected. "Unless his presence is absolutely required, Kael Gremory is not to be brought to any royal or noble event."
The patriarch nodded once. "Reasonable."
"And word's already spreading," Grayfia added. "Most of the other houses… agree. After the Sitri incident, and now this? They see him as unpredictable. Potentially dangerous."
Venelana closed her eyes. "They're not wrong."
A knock came at the window.
Everyone turned.
Kael was floating there, completely upside-down, holding a scroll that unfurled itself and began singing an off-key rendition of "We Are the Champions" in demonic tongue.
Venelana stared.
Kael waved. "I heard the decision. No more events? Great. Saves me time."
Grayfia narrowed her eyes. "You were eavesdropping."
"I was listening proactively."
Rias clapped. "Nii-san's scroll can sing!"
Kael floated inside and hovered over the table. "Don't worry, I won't cause trouble. I'll just… stay in my room. Float around. Train. Maybe summon a few things."
"You're not allowed to summon in the house," Venelana snapped.
Kael grinned. "What if they summon themselves?"
Venelana stood.
Grayfia moved.
Kael vanished.
A second later, a glowing sign appeared over the fireplace.
"You've made the right choice. Yours in chaotic neutrality, Kael."
Venelana sat back down.
The Gremory patriarch took a long sip of wine. "We should write a book. How to Raise a Reality Hazard."
Grayfia nodded. "Chapter One: Don't."