The thoughts of doomsday and destruction took a swift kick out of his head.

"I'm thankful that you're so willing, Kyoya. I assure you, it won't take but a moment." Altar nodded to his daughter, after which she stood from her seat and addressed the Miscreant.

"Mister Kyoya, would you please stand?"

He obeyed, rising from his seat and waiting patiently at the edge of the table. Alexandria rose as well, walking to his front and speaking again. "Now, lift up your shirt for just a moment, if you will."

"Right."

The boy lifted his top as instructed, high enough that the palm of her hand could reach just about where his heart lay. A sudden chill made him wince at the first contact.

She jumped at his response, quickly taking her hand away.

"I'm sorry! Are you alright? I didn't mean to hurt you if I did!"

"No, no! I just wasn't ready for it; don't worry."

It wasn't that she'd done something to inflict any sort of pain... No, nothing of that sort.

Alexandria simply had cold hands.

"Thank goodness..." She breathed a relieved sigh. It seemed that the Princess of Altaire was unbelievably gentle, in both character and behavior, albeit a bit quick-to-excitement. He found her compassion reassuring, though: it was a trait that he'd hoped very dearly hadn't been lost to the tests of time.

"I'm ready, this time. You can go ahead."

"Understood."

She placed her hand on his chest once more. This time, Kyoya's anticipation allowed him to take the sudden sensation and not make it look as though she'd pricked him with a needle.

Hypersensitivity set in almost instantly. Even the flow of blood from one vessel to the next had become a detectible sensation—something completely impossible under normal circumstances. Sounds and smells were amplified to astounding sharpness, with even his company's breathing sounding as loud as a wheezing croak.

That was until Alexandria's eyes widened.

"What is it?" Lyric leaned so far forward that any further would have her chair tipping over.

"I suppose it shouldn't come as any surprise that your marks would have been high to have dealt with a Demon like that, but his wasn't expected at all..." The Princess either ignored her friend, or simply didn't catch what she'd said—likely too caught up in whatever it was that required so much surprise.

"Alexandria? Now you've got me anxious." Altar added, adopting a similar leaning position to Lyric.

"Well, you see..." The young miss began, seeming adamant to keep her hand on his torso. "Miss Lyric, I haven't witnessed levels quite like these since I measured yours the last time. In fact, his total Power Level is only 50 points less than yours!"

"...I'm sorry?"

If Lyric's jaw was capable of dropping any further, one would have to think she wasn't human. The Seraph stared blankly at her friend, then at that friend's father, then back. "50 points less?"

Alexandria nodded with a newfound excitement, her eyes shifting from the usual klutzy grey to a glimmering silver.

"What are the individual values? I'm certain that his readings must have an outlier somewhere, especially given his encounter with the Demon!" Altar's eyes adopted a similar commotion, his hands meeting the table with a mighty slam.

The Princess closed her eyes again, reopening them several moments later.

"You weren't wrong, father," she noted. "Magical: 800. Physical: 2,000. Aethereal: 800."

"Unbelievable... A ranking of 2,000 in any one statistic is rare, but to see that his other fields aren't lacking as a result of one being so highly ranked is another story entirely." The King found his conclusion suitable, sitting back down. However, it looked as though Lyric was cooking up another remark.

"Would somebody care to explain to him what exactly those numbers mean, just so he's got some idea of how serious that is?" She looked about them, with Altar taking the initiative to give another explanation.

The Seraph was right on the mark: she'd dug him out of yet another instance of being completely in the dark.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The King cleared his throat after another hearty sip of tea.

"Right. A Reclaimer's Power Level is the numerical value by which any Burst is judged in terms of ability, with three key points of Magical, Physical, and Aethereal being evaluated to form a suitable overall total. The criteria are as follows..."

With the snap of a finger, some sort of light-based chart appeared in front of him, showing three fields with descriptions under each. Now, Guran's techniques for pulling screens out of thin air didn't seem so out of place.

From them, he read: "The Magical Power Level is a measurement of any Burst's magical power; this statistic is a tell of the quality, quantity, and other key properties of a Reclaimer's magic."

"Got it," thought the boy.

Altar continued.

"Second is Physical: the offensive and defensive capability of a Reclaimer's body. This would refer to Reclaimers' tangible physical properties."

"Take notes, Blue. With how finicky your noodle is, I doubt this'll be fresh in the head by the time we even walk outta this joint," snarked the Seraph.

"Sure thing, I'll remember to fix my terrible memory loss on the way out the door," he shot back, Altar having to stop himself from laughing so to continue his lecture.

"And, lastly, Aethereal: the hidden capabilities of a Reclaimer and their Burst. This statistic encompasses the latent ability present in all users of magic. It essentially serves as a measurement of the hidden potential that can be realized upon the meeting of certain criteria. Once met, that latent power manifests into either Physical or Magical power."

"Alright, that's easy enough to follow." Kyoya nodded. Yet, he'd only just noticed that Alexandria had still yet to take back her hand. "Right... Don't take this the wrong way, but are we still not done?"

"The reading is complete, but something about the flow of your magic is... irregular," she added dryly.

Lyric raised an interested brow.

"Irregular?"

"Normally, magic flows in a uniform manner... His comes in waves, peaking at some points and mellowing out at others—similarly to yours. I haven't any explanation for this, so," she cast a look to her father, "would I be right to instate a brief visit to the training area?"

"I would be in agreement," Altar approved. It even seemed as though he'd been waiting for such an inquiry.

He snapped his fingers once more, Kyoya's vision blinking to pure white for no more than a heartbeat before reappearing in another room, though this one was more of an expanse. Easily dwarfing the training ground at Guran's homestead, this area boasted hilly terrain, a winding river complete with rapids and a waterfall, and several lines of stick-and-straw training dummies.

They stood upon a stone platform nestled in the center of the expanse, next to an all-purpose weapon rack, and even a serve-in refreshment vendor at the entrance next to them. Its operator waved a warm greeting as they appeared.

"This is where I usually get my workouts in. Maybe I can show you the ropes when we're not chasing some myth by the tail, sound good?" Lyric took to the front, confidently strutting to the training dummies, with the rest of the group arriving just afterward.

Alexandria walked to Lyric's side, the pair in front of one such tool.

"Mister Kyoya," She began, "I'd like you to observe miss Lyric's ability as she strikes this training dummy."

"Getting right to it, then?" Gloated the Seraph. "Fine by me."

The Princess stepped back a few feet, and Lyric took that as her cue to begin.

The electric polearm from before manifested in her hands, and she executed several quick sidesteps before bringing its thunderous steel down upon her target. Upon impact, sparks and static hissed away from the dummy's form, being drawn back into her weapon. Once all of the energy was absorbed, the electricity flowing around both her and the staff grew in intensity.

Alexandria nodded.

"That effect you just saw would be her Affinity: Synapse Storm. The Hope's relentless combat style brings her more than a faster pace; as Lyric fights with any elementally-based moves, each blow empowers her form with a supercharged aura."

Alexandria gestured to the arcing energy that surged around Lyric. "The effect drastically increases her speed through the absorption of kinetic and electrical energy from the impact of her hits. There is a point at which it can't exceed, even though it's well past the point that hurricanes can be cast with so much as sprinting in a circle..."

Kyoya briefly thought over her explanation. In a way, it seemed similar to his Critical Ascent, but instead of amplifying the strength of her physical attacks, it overflowed her Magic Power Level and increased her speed with each successive elemental hit.

She continued. "...So, Power Levels capable of fluctuating so drastically are often to blame for irregularities in flow during evaluations—a similarity from her sharing your trait of irregular flow. And, considering your tendency to build a string of attacks in battle, it leads me to believe that you harbor an ability similar to hers. Would I be right in that assumption?"

"Spot on. I've got an Affinity in that range, but it's physical," he answered.

Breaking his silent streak, Altar walked to Lyric's side. "Would you please demonstrate it?"

Kyoya nodded and approached his own dummy, entering a stance with his fists up.

"So, I just... hit it?"

"Yep, go nuts. Alexandria's already read your Levels once, so now she can see it without having to touch you. Crazy, right?"

The Miscreant returned his attention to the puppet. He centered his focus, reared back, and delivered a single blow.

Nothing happened, other than the patchwork smile of the dummy flopping back to mock him.

"That's... odd." The Princess tilted her head.

She appeared... disappointed. "Certainly powerful, but not as staggering as I'd expected. I suppose reinforcing the dummy may not have been necessary, then—"

Lyric smirked with narrowed eyes.

"Give the guy a sec; he's got stage fright," the Seraph laughed. "Hey, Blue, bash 'em a few more times and do that thing you did before. They put a spell on these things to keep 'em from getting broken..."

Just as she said that, a fiery glint resurfaced in her eyes.

That girl put any crack of thunder to shame with the show of sheer willpower in her demand. "So break it!"