Ignis m (latin)
fire, brightness
passion, glow of passion
I couldn't even imagine that a simple diagnostic item - which isn't even a real System from those gamer fanfics, if anything! - will make my head crackle and sparkle from the amount of - extremely dubiously - necessary information. And since I had no way to save all this somewhere other than my own memory, I still tried hard to digest it all! I'm not stupid enough to ignore the possibility of not arousing suspicion with my ignorance, am I ?!
I really wanted to get away from this hell, to be honest.
Well, not from THE Hell, as in the Underworld, but quite a local hell in the form of a huge reception in honor of Rias' birthday. I won't see most of those present until the next such gathering, and if anything, I wasn't allowed to attend all of those... That is, not me, it was Rias, but because of the attempts to deal with her memories, it sometimes overwhelmed me.
The devils were generally extremely human-like in their ways, which was quite annoying. I was forced to dress up, and it was very good that mother reminded me about this event in advance. I was able to push for a more modest suit and not dress up in any actual dress, and fortunately for me, demonic seamstresses could create anything in the shortest possible time thanks to magic. Because I started doing it right away and didn't put it off, it was perceived as a kind of quirk and a kind of phase, because no one had to redo anything. Still, I felt much more comfortable in pants. And to be honest, the more tightly I'm dressed, the better I feel. The more clothes obscure the burgeoning beauty of this body, the better!
On the one hand, I was even kind of glad that at least I wasn't being controlled in my clothing choices, but on the other hand, I was sure that when I did appear in front of my mother in all my anti-girly glory, I would at least be mentally spanked, and at most verbally crucified.
This lady congratulated me on my birthday, obviously, before I had a chance to try on a suit, that is why, so far, I have culturally shocked only the queen, that is, the visier piece of my dear brother, also his wife. I can't imagine marrying, in fact, the slave, but fuck knows, these role-playing games. In all seriousness though, since I knew exactly what these Evil Pieces were doing to those who absorbed them in, it was difficult for me not to show my attitude in any way. I tried not to jump to conclusions, but still, I was reasonably boiling about it.
For some reason that was unclear to me, her name was half a mystery to me, that is, in the "name" column there was not only "Grayfia Lucifuge", but also some kind of gibberish in two other alphabet systems, which I absolutely could not read, because I haven't studied these kinds of perversions in any of my lives as of yet. She wasn't the only devil with such gibberish in the diagnostic window, and I made a note to rewrite these symbols and Google them in the future.
From the side of this gorgeous white-haired woman - just like me in a previous life! - when I just got dressed and answered her knock on the door, I received only a raised eyebrow and a polite offer to braid my hair if I wish so.
According to the strange feelings of this demonic bod, for some reason I didn't want to turn my back on her, so I politely declined.
I definitely didn't have that feeling with Serafall, even though I'm supposed to have the same ass-feeling all the time. Strange.
Grayfia nevertheless escorted me to a huge hall where everyone was gathered, and together we entered one of the doors.
There was no sign of any, let's say, Prince-of-Darkness-y ball here, and I was definitely not the star of the show, even though it was my birthday. Well, I definitely don't have to shake hands with everyone - my mother is doing it somewhere on the side of the room, and yes, that side would be the last place I go.
My father, who was very noticeable because of his red hair, kept gesturing obscenely with a dashing grin at his old friends, and I hurried to quickly glance somewhere else. Otherwise, he'll feel the attention on him, notice me and call for me, that's for sure! That fucking fiance's papa was probably there as well - pops wouldn't negotiate with someone he didn't know well, I had no doubt about that.
But everything would have been fine if it hadn't been for the unexpected purposeful movement in my direction, by one rather large man, who caused me primal fear instead of any congenial good feelings. And no, it wasn't that eccentric piece of cherry jelly named Sirzechs, who was definitely full of lies, some good intentions, and also some dumb ideas about shoving Evil Pieces into little helpless girls, but he would never in his life have caused his little sister such fear. Even though I was aware of his absolute power and the awe with which other devils treated him.
The man stopped right next to me, took a look at Grayfia, who had been following me for the last five minutes of my stay in this hall and was in no hurry to dissociate herself, and then he looked indifferently into my face.
The diagnostics gave me something that I could identify as Hebrew, but I definitely couldn't read it.
בעַל זכרכורם
Thank you fucking Austin! Thank you fucking bracelet! It didn't really help to deal with fear, to be honest! I would have seen something interesting, but all the bracelet gave me was an inscription in Hebrew.
But I didn't need a diagnosis to identify this man as Zekram Bael, my mother's father, and the likely creator of my problems with the engagement contract.
I've been reading a lot about the Gremory pillar lately, when I realized what kind of a fucked up situation awaits me if I don't do anything and let everything take its course. Well, as a result of searching for answers, I stopped understanding anything at all.
Why would I suddenly be affected by this game in the form of mandatory marriage due to the small number of pureblood devils of the Underworld? And why would I be included in such an engagement agreement, when neither my father, nor my grandmother, nor, moreover, Runeas Gremory herself did such things at all. My brother actually married his former civil war enemy, and he constantly boasted that he was very lucky to find love in the most unexpected circumstances.
It was strange to think that Lilith - and there was no doubt about Lilith's existence in this world - was my not-so-distant ancestor. Lilith - Runeas - Grandmother - Father - Gabrias. And that's on Gremory's side. Zekram Bael is the grandfather and, in fact, Runeas' brother. It would be more unusual if he did not, in fact, scare me with his mere presence. From his face, and from his general habit of bearing himself, it was clear that his power went to his head way back when the original Lucifer was still alive.
Well, now Serafall's comments about Rabu-rabu and Sona-chan didn't seem as... out of nowhere and humorous. It just went very terrifying very fast.
If suddenly Sirzechs suffers from something like that, I will castrate him.
But that's for later. Now, my thoughts have swerved somewhere, because I missed the beginning of Zekram's probably extremely important speech, and therefore the light in my head turned on somewhere in the middle of his monologue. Not that he needed my reaction, other than polite nods and silence.
"... And I hope to see you in the future in this game that young people value so much nowadays, Rias. Watching them can sometimes be boring due to the lack of edge and real danger," the man chuckled disdainfully and looked into my eyes, "but I was informed that you, like many others from your generation, have plans to participate in this rating. You have a lot to learn, and that's what my gift to you on this day is about."
"I... appreciate it." I swallowed and frowned, choosing my words. "Hrm... Lord Bael, I haven't seen the gifts of our esteemed guests yet, but I can confidently say that any gift that can help me strengthen myself in the future would be priceless."
***
Little Ravel was a great conversationalist, despite her young age and her idiot brother. She was a couple of years younger than me, but judging by Rias's memories, we'd only met a handful of times before.
No, this is completely unacceptable!
In the half‑hour since my talk with Zekram Bael, I'd met — or rather, re‑met, depending on how you look at it — a whole bunch of my peers. There were, of course, old friends: Sona-chan, my bestie, and Sairaorg Bael, my maternal cousin, who was a bit older; at some point, their already infrequent contact had nearly dried up. Then there was Sigvaira Agares, with whom little Rias shared a hobby of collecting anime figurines. While Rias genuinely got along with Sona-chan, conversations with Sigvaira mostly revolved around their shared interest.
But why did Rias barely know the rest of them? Well, their personalities sort of answered that question, if I'm honest.
Diodora Astaroth was, of course, a two‑faced bastard — you could smell the phoniness from his smug face a mile away — but at least he kept a polite, neutral demeanor, unlike that jerk from the Glasya‑Labolas pillar, who even at such a young age already looked at women around him like pieces of meat. On the other hand, that Glasya‑Labolas jerk had an older sister with the dangerously beautiful musculature of a warrior amazon — and I wouldn't mind making that acquaintance. It was sort of the same with Raiser: he was a total jerk, and nearly a decade older than me, no argument there — but his sister?
I played the part of an excellent listener, carefully soaking up everything she blurted out. My attentive silence and encouraging gaze practically made her bloom and spill even more info. We barely avoided the idiot brother, but his idiocy oddly calmed me. An idiot with no brains is easier to wipe the floor with, am I right?
Who in their right mind would show up to their supposed fiancée's birthday party arm‑in‑arm with their mistress? No, this was a top‑tier idiot — no marks left to brand him with.
Was this some kind of provocation from his ancestors, an attempt to test the waters, or just plain apathy? To be honest, it didn't matter much to me — I had no beef with the jerk, at least not yet. As long as he doesn't come at me with those tight embraces he had his girl in, I'm cool. I even caught myself admiring her cleavage and almost gave Raiser two thumbs up — but then I remembered this was supposed to be my enemy, thanks to that contract between our parents. So I just studied her assets a couple seconds too long and opened my mouth to mutter something polite and neutral, but Ravel read the situation wrong and quickly pulled me into her orbit.
"So anyway, after that almost‑successful kidnapping attempt, my brother proposed I become his Bishop, and I'm thinking of accepting!" she finished her tale of recent adventures and set down her empty tea cup — only for dear Sakura‑chan to refill it with her magical tea. "Yubi thinks it'll protect me too, and my brother will be able to find me no matter what, thanks to the connection with the pieces!"
Looks like I'll have to join this chatter after all, not just listen and quietly sip my tea. Because if she's spouting this kind of nonsense, she probably hasn't discussed it with her parents. No normal parent would let their underage daughter take on a slave contract with a guy already building a harem. Though wait — these are old‑school demons; maybe even incest is A‑OK with them.
"I don't know who this Yubi is, but I think you should focus more on individual development. Your brother didn't become a piece for any of his older brothers, right? And females are just as strong as male devils, especially in magic. It's based on imagination, not physical limits, isn't it?"
"Well, yeah," Ravel frowned and muttered. "But I'm the youngest in the family, so they want to protect me…"
"Then their protection shouldn't involve you taking a slave brand onto your neck, Ravel," I scoffed and took another sip of tea, trying to keep my hands busy. "You've got all the makings of a high‑class demon. You've got the same powers as your brother, and in a couple years you'll gather a retinue that can protect you when you can't do it yourself."
"But it's my brother! What difference does it make? I'll still be a pure‑blooded devil of the Phenex clan even if I take on what you call… And it's not really slavery, Rias!"
"Oh, it absolutely is," I frowned and looked her in the eye. "Those pieces are packed with all sorts of stuff, but they force obedience to the owner of the set — otherwise they wouldn't only be given to high‑class demons. You could just chisel off chunks of that magic stone, stuff them with a demonization matrix, and shove them into any creature to demonize them on the spot. But that would lead to…"
"Chaos and potential problems from overpopulation," Ravel chimed in, her eyebrows shooting up — clearly she hadn't considered this angle of her brother's proposal. "So even if I don't reincarnate as a demon like others do, but just accept the Bishop piece's enhancement, I'd still become… a slave? And my brother knew about this?!"
"I honestly don't know," I shrugged and went back to my tea. "He might not know about these implications, but I kinda doubt it… He's an idiot, sure, but this feels like basic knowledge…"
"Rias! Don't talk about my brother like that! He's not an idiot! Why are you so…" Ravel protested, but I cut her off with a perfectly reasonable remark.
"He's literally drowning in his girlfriend's boobs at his supposed fiancée's birthday, Ravel," my tone dripped sarcasm. "Can you imagine a reasonable person with a working brain acting like that?"
"Well… my brother's changed a lot since he started watching anime…" Ravel mumbled thoughtfully, but a few seconds later perked up slightly. "But Jubelluna wouldn't interfere with my brother getting married — she's his Queen, and she hasn't even reached high‑class demon status yet, so they wouldn't let him marry her! So you don't have to worry, Rias!"
I really wanted to call out to the Lord, but I restrained myself — with great effort.
"Ra‑vel…" I drawled, setting down my cup, feeling the familiar surge of magic around my eyes. I couldn't release the power of destruction outward, but I really wanted to.
This wasn't the first time since my actions against those idiotic Shintoists that instead of releasing destruction mist and dark lightning outward, I channeled the energy inward — resulting in golden‑glowing eyes instead of my usual green‑blue ones that shifted hue with the lighting. It felt a lot like what happened in my first world when I was just learning to control energy — except there it was due to lack of full control, while here it was because of an absolutely ridiculous amount of energy.
"Rias…?" the girl said in confusion, glancing at my eyes, nearly inhaling her tea along with the cup. "Oh! My! Satan! What is that?! Wow‑wow‑wow!"
I thought she might be scared, but no! This girl proved her kinship with the idiot Raiser — instead of recoiling from the clearly pissed‑off me, she leaned even closer, practically nose‑to‑nose, and began enthusiastically examining my eyes.
"Wow‑wow‑wow!" she repeated, pressing her hands to her cheeks. "How do you do that? I want to, as well!"
"Ravel," I repeated, calmer now, after ten seconds of nasal breathing. "I won't be your brother's wife. So I don't need to worry about him having a girlfriend. What pisses me off is his blatant disregard for etiquette, not the pretty girl in his arms. He's deliberately trying to provoke a reaction or humiliate me, and that's just stupid and low."
"Rias, but…" Ravel stammered, clearly at a loss. "Our parents decided…"
"This is just the elder Bael generation's attempt to make me into something other than the Devil of Sloth, Ravel," I said, setting my cup down and crossing one leg over the other so I could rest my chin on my palm more comfortably. "All Gremory, starting with our progenitor Runeas, carry a fundamental vice — and that vice is Sloth. The only exception is my brother Sirzechs, and look what he's managed to achieve simply by not having that limitation and putting ambition at the forefront. They've deliberately set things up so that Laziness would be disadvantageous for me. And since we're in a time of peace, putting me in an artificially created conflict is quite clever — albeit manipulative."
"That's not true! You're just trying to justify…" Ravel began, but I cut her off with an irritated grunt.
"Zekram Bael gave me a teleportation bracelet, accompanied by the wish that I learn something new."
"And… what does that mean?" Ravel asked, clearly puzzled, her expression radiating confusion.
"It means he doesn't see me as just a walking breeding vessel. He wants me, and I quote, to learn something new and win in rating games, dear Ravel," I replied with a sardonic edge, which brought a blush of mingled embarrassment and fury to the little Phenex girl's cheeks.
I had no intention of telling her that I planned to teleport into the depths of this local hellhole, slay monsters there, and teleport back the moment I sensed that continuing the adventure would be suicidal. This was a method that had worked during my training in the world of Grimm monsters, and now I'd been given a little trinket that could simplify that method tenfold — if only because this teleportation bracelet wasn't based on a Pillar Mark, unlike the usual demonic methods of transportation. Yes, if I understood correctly, it only worked one way and couldn't be activated too frequently. But precisely this simplicity led me to believe that old man Bael was merely setting up tests and obstacles for me — not actual problems.
This gift — and Bael's accompanying words, which absolutely did not include any wish for me to hurry up and get married, but rather added layers to his attempt to pressure me — made me more autonomous. It gave me the opportunity to escape danger and make my training as close to real‑world conditions as possible.
The original Rias probably wouldn't have rushed off to open a gift from her malevolent grandfather — the one she feared so much it even sent a shiver down my spine — right in the middle of her own celebration. And she likely would have tuned his words out completely.
Instead, I offloaded Grayfia onto her husband and child — gave Milicas a pat on his chubby cheeks in an unexpected surge of warmth, dodged Sirzech's embrace, and successfully made my escape toward the gift room.
Zekram Bael's attitude seemed to stand in contrast — almost apart — even if Rias's mother, Venelana Bael, was pushing for that abominable contract (which had no precedent in the Gremory Pillar) precisely at his instigation.
Yes, this manipulation was seriously getting to me, and I was certain it wasn't the only intrigue concerning Rias's upbringing and preparation. After all, Zekram, with his parting words about learning, was unlikely to sabotage that very training.
"Still, I think you're wrong about my brother!" the little Phenex declared resolutely, jumping up from her chair. "But I'll think about it."
"If you want to train, give me a shout," I shrugged, leaning back and regarding the flushed girl with equal parts amusement and fondness. "You've got fire in you, Ravel. No less than your brother. And you can learn to protect yourself — without slavery."
"Without slavery…" Ravel echoed, gave me one last look, and then darted off somewhere.
I glanced sideways at Sakura and lifted my cup.
Without a word, she poured me… hmm. Genmaicha? Interesting, but not really my thing.
I continued sipping and thinking about the good and eternal — namely, about training on the edge of losing limbs if I failed. Training that awaited me, eagerly or not, all thanks to Mr. Zekram and his infuriating intrigues. Oh, how I wished I could just be the Devil of Sloth and forget about all this…
***
Sairaorg found me almost immediately after I got up from the chair and headed toward the huge exit to the gardens, glazed with colored mosaic.
I had no idea how anything could grow here, especially under that purple sky, but I had plans to get the hell out and test the bracelet. My hands were itching — that little bracelet was practically burning a hole in my pocket. I hadn't put it on yet, of course, but I'd scanned it with my makeshift system. Since it hadn't failed me yet (except with the names of ancient demons and Latin translations), I trusted that this gift could take me wherever I wished — provided I had enough power.
My diagnostics showed that the device was extremely simple and not tied to the magic of the Pillars, which was both great and kind of cheating — and dangerous, if I thought about it carefully. The Pillar's seal didn't just simplify the use of magic and reduce its consumption (which was more important on Earth than in the Netherworld). A stationary seal linked transfer locations to one another and reduced consumption even further.
According to the description, this thing could take me wherever I wanted and then bring me back — but only if the bracelet's, let's say, accumulator was refilled. And it consumed a ton of energy during transfers, given the lack of a Pillar's seal — basically gobbling up power like there was no tomorrow, if I understood correctly.
I wanted to test a transfer to my own room just to figure out how badly I'd be affected afterward, and I needed a place where no one would see me for at least half a minute. That's why I headed for the gardens.
But no, the Baels couldn't leave me alone today.
"Rias!" the young man exclaimed joyfully, barely holding himself back from throwing his arms around me. I flinched slightly — he'd already started moving, though he stopped himself in time. "Happy birthday again! My mother wanted to thank you for the invitation!"
"And you?" I mocked him a bit, patting him on the elbow. "Aren't you going to thank me? Such an audacity! Audacity, I say!"
His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets — he'd clearly taken my words seriously but couldn't find an immediate reply. That, in itself, bought some time: for his mother to step in and smooth things over with her pleasant, gentle laughter, and for me to start giggling at his suddenly crestfallen expression.
His mom was a pleasant woman — Misla Vapula. If I remembered correctly, she belonged to the Pillar that could turn Hell's monsters into obedient little service dogs, given enough effort. She was petite, especially compared to her towering son, who looked like a spitting image of Grandpa Zekram — minus the beard and that unnerving aura of impending doom he always carried. So petite, in fact, that she was barely taller than me. Unlike her son, she didn't hesitate to give me a hug, which made it easy to see that we differed in height by just half a head. And mind you, I was turning twelve today — not centuries, but years. So I still had some growing to do, judging by my parents, who were both well above average in height.
And yes, the moment I was released from that embrace, my briefly improved mood was instantly ruined.
From somewhere to the side, my mother sauntered over like a satisfied cat and called out to this surprisingly gentle woman, who practically radiated homely comfort, by her name. I turned to look at Misla, expecting to see something politely neutral — but honestly, both of them surprised me. Rias had rarely noticed such things, since she mostly attended these events in one of two states: lost in her own thoughts or engaged in lively conversation with her peers — most often Sona-chan, which usually devolved into a mild squabble. But now, being unusually attentive, I found myself right in the middle of their exchange of ardent glances, and I made sure not to let on that I had any suspicions.
I'd never seen such an animated expression on my mother's face before. The way she reached out first to take Misla's hand, and how Misla allowed it — they were clearly very close friends, no doubt about it.
So there we were — me and Sairaorg, practically shoulder to shoulder — watching this unexpected, seemingly out-of-nowhere display of affection. He looked on with satisfaction; I, with growing bewilderment. The last time I'd seen such a soft expression on my mother's face was when she was cuddling her grandson. But even little Milikas could make me go all «aww», so that wasn't exactly a rare sight.
"Ah, it's a shame Father didn't let Aunt Venelana let us move in with you! Mom's really happy in her company — it'd be great to see her so pleased more often, don't you think?"
The scruffy boy nudged me with his elbow, and in that moment I promised myself I'd grow to at least 180 cm. Being the short one — even if I was a feisty one — had been annoying me for about three lifetimes now.
"I don't know," I shrugged, then added quietly, "Because of the marriage contract, I don't get along with my mother all that well. Usually I just see her with this universal look of exhaustion from my stubbornness."
"Hmm… You are training, right? I recently managed to take down an alpha hound with an elbow strike. Got anything new up your sleeve?"
Sairaorg suddenly changed the subject, and that's when I realized this relative was, in some ways, a kindred spirit — we were going to be friends.
"Of course, bro. Now my power isn't just those inescapable ink‑balls — it's an endless fog with crimson lightning, if I want it. Like a cloud of destruction, but it only corrodes what I want it to. And I have no idea if that's normal, because nobody cares," I chuckled and nudged him back. "We don't get along because they're throwing every possible wrench in my gears, stopping me from developing freely so I can get out of this contract as soon as possible. But Grandpa Zekram gave me the order today to "keep learning something new" — and he didn't say a word about any marriage obligations. So let's listen to Grandpa Zekram and train like there's no tomorrow, until we win."
"That's definitely not normal, Rias,"
Sairaorg said slowly, clearly trying to restrain himself from asking to see it or begging for a demonstration — though his face said it all, even to me.
"I mean, the selectivity of the destruction. I'm no expert, but…"
"Yeah, it'd be cool if you could live with us,"
I wrapped things up quickly, saying it much louder than the rest of our conversation, because our mothers had finally pulled apart a little and were approaching us with satisfied smiles — still holding hands, mind you.
"Yeah, we could train to our hearts' content!" he chimed in without much thought, confirming my inner conviction that this was my spiritual bro, and we were going to get along great.
"Bro‑o‑o!"
I extended my fist, shrouded in the power of destruction, and he, without hesitation and with a pleased grin, bumped his fist against mine.
Misla gasped in surprise and instinctively leaned forward, but then stopped short, looking stunned, and swayed a little — which surprised me greatly. My mother frowned in my direction, but clearly not because we'd been joking, but because of her friend's sudden weakness. Her gaze lingered on me for just a couple of seconds before she immediately shifted her attention back to Misla, catching her by the waist with one hand and grasping her wrist with the other — clearly checking either her pulse or something magical.
"It's all right, Lana, dear, this happens sometimes,"
Misla turned her palm in my mother's hand so their fingers intertwined, and I got the distinct feeling that we — me and Sairaorg — were very much in the way here.
We exchanged a glance, my spiritual brother and I. I don't know about him, but my ears were already turning red with the flood of assumptions racing through my mind. So I took a deep breath and blurted out, tugging Sairaorg by the elbow and turning decisively, determined to get as far away from this scene as possible.
"Moms! We're going for a walk in the garden! I want to show Sai one of the gifts I really liked!"
The women were clearly in their own little world, and thanks to my earlier chat with Ravel in the alcove near one of the exits, their privacy was unlikely to be interrupted. I'd sent Sakura away shortly before Sairaorg showed up, so we — me and Sai — made our escape from this… situation, as quickly as we could.
"Do they always act like this?"
I finally let go of his sleeve once we'd reached some sprawling, thorny monstrosity I couldn't immediately identify.
"Uh, what do you mean…"
Sairaorg began to mumble, making a half‑hearted attempt to fool the "kid", but sorry, bro, my experience gave me confidence in my assumptions.
"Brother, I'm going to hit you if you keep playing dumb," I warned, locking eyes with him. "Spill it. Now."
He narrowed his eyes and shifted into a fighting stance.
"Go ahead and try… sister. I don't know anything, and I'm not saying anything."
If not for my experience and the confidence that I'd at least half‑restored my previous training results — where I'd beaten up vampires, far less human‑like demons, and Grimm — I might have hesitated.
Luckily, I'd had plenty of time since arriving here, and my demonic body had absorbed the physical memory from past lives far more easily than it had in my previous world. There, I'd had to train based on what I remembered, or sometimes just go with random flashes of insight. Here, I was recalling and rebuilding everything much faster.
Even if I couldn't squeeze a confession out of him — which I didn't really need anymore, especially given his interesting reaction — this sparring session would show me just how right I was in my assessment of my abilities without the Power of Destruction.
***
To my horror and regret, I managed to redirect Sairaorg's first attack aimed at me, and the lad slammed headfirst into a thorny demonic baobab. A thorn ripped his jacket at the shoulder. He touched the threads sticking out of the fabric, let out a heavy sigh, and looked me in the eye — a look that made me want to apologise. But that moment quickly vanished as his gaze turned serious. My simple manoeuvre had clearly made him reassess my hand‑to‑hand combat skills — perhaps even overestimate them.
I barely managed to sense and dodge his next strike. This already felt like a breakthrough, as he had noticeably picked up speed. He wasn't just trying to trap me in a bear hug and force me to surrender anymore — which was why it had been so easy to redirect him and send him flying. Sairaorg was now dead serious about giving me a concussion. I wasn't sure about the brain part — starting to doubt its existence after picking unnecessary fights for fun — but I could clearly feel that if his fist connected with my skull, even if there was nothing in there to concuss, I'd still be knocked out cold.
As it turned out, all my invaluable experience hunting vamps and beating down Grimm monsters could be safely tossed in the trash — at least when it came to fighting a devil like him, from this world. Yes, remnants of my reflexes helped, but Sairaorg was, firstly, older, taller, and stronger; secondly, unarmed combat just didn't suit me at all! My hands itched to grip the hilt of something sharp, but no! Goddamn it, why did I even come up with this idea? He'd knock me out and claim I was like that all along!
"Maybe we shouldn't do this?!" I yelled in response to another shattered tree, still persisting since I'd already started.
"You brought this on yourself, Rias!" And he had the nerve to laugh joyfully through it all.
I used the tree branches in this vast garden as makeshift platforms to move around, because if I started using my wings, he'd definitely decide to fly as well. And then I'd have to break the unspoken rule of this fight — to avoid using the Power of Destruction.
"I don't want to ruin my suit, Sairaorg! Why couldn't you just answer me?!"
"You shouldn't have said you'll hit me if I wouldn't confess to…" He faltered but continued. "Anyway, you have to answer for your words, Rias!"
"No problem, but can I answer later, after I change my clothes?!" I dodged his leap and then his knee.
"What are you doing?!" A completely unfamiliar voice came from somewhere to my lower right, forcing me to inexcusably lose focus. "Such destruction! Who gave you the right?! I'm going to call the Gremory Pillar Guards!"
Of course, if this were a real fight with actual danger, such a distraction wouldn't have happened so easily. But despite Sairaorg's destructive capabilities, I'd never once felt like I was about to be finished off. He wasn't fighting like it was his last stand, and he certainly wasn't trying to truly maim me.
That's why he didn't punch me full force in the nose, but at the last moment changed direction and only lightly grazed my ear.
That was enough to send me crashing to the ground.
I managed to twist — my ear throbbing painfully — and awkwardly landed on my feet, right in front of the devil who distracted me.
"What do you think you're…"
The devil, initially full of outrage and a some weird thirst for order, met my gaze, then looked higher, at my crimson hair, and immediately silenced himself.
"Dear friend, I don't know your name, but you know mine, so please turn o-o-over there, towards the fountain, and go‑go‑go."
"Lady Rias, please…"
"We're just playing around, you shouldn't interfere," I waved him off. "Ask for whatever you need another time, yes? Yes. Do go on, scram, let us kids stretch our legs — we haven't seen each other for half a year. Be a dear, yeah?"
The man swallowed, blinked a few times as if it were his first time doing so, and then, with wooden movements I couldn't quite understand, followed my advice.
"Weird one," I commented and looked up at Sairaorg. "If he wants to complain, I'd let him complain — if this was his garden. Surely he got some real fragile psyche for the Underworld, honestly."
"What if he's the gardener?" Sairaorg laughed, folding his arms.
"He's not the gardener," I snorted and motioned Sairaorg with a palm, Bruce Lee style. "Are we continuing or not?"
"How do you know that, Rias?" Sairaorg jumped right onto my head, spun in mid‑air, and forced me to dodge a rather rude heel aimed at my forehead. "If you really don't want to dirty your suit, maybe we should stop? I'm generally…" He grunted, trying to switch to a grappling technique, but I dodged again and jumped back. "Ugh! I'm generally not opposed."
"Because I know the gardener's face," I rolled my eyes, answering his first question, then lowered my tone and dropped my arms. "Sai, I have eyes. And I want to help them if I can. She looks happier."
"I don't understand what you're talking about," Sai narrowed his eyes.
"A happy mother means less time chewing my brain out. Clear now?" I grumbled and reached into my pocket. "This is what I wanted to show you. I told Moms I had something, right?"
"That gift?"
"Yeah, a teleportation bracelet, but without the Pillar magic."
"Hmm," Sairaorg scratched his chin and made a fair assumption. "This thing must have serious drawbacks. Nothing comes that easily."
"Yes, see these stones?"
I put on the bracelet and dismissed the System's notification about adding this teleportation module to the System.
This was all very interesting, of course, but reading something in the air right in front of another person was the height of stupidity. The possibility of integrating an inventory module into this System immediately crossed my mind — artefacts like the Bag of Holding from D&D definitely existed here. The System couldn't be removed from me — I tried — the only thing I could do was make the bracelet visible, but those creepy‑looking crystals would definitely raise questions and attempts to figure out if it was a Sacred Gear or not. So I decided to read the new System description later — it was the first time I tried on this little gadget.
"Storage of Magic," Sai chuckled, hands on his waist. "So you can't use it many times in a row, even if you wanted to. Useful, but not that much. So what's the real value?"
"You're absolutely right — there's this perk that could be seen as some sort of drawback!" I claimed and smirked at his expectant, anticipatory expression. "This thing can teleport you to places you've already been."
"Without… without limitations? Apart from the energy ones, I mean…" Sairaorg began uncertainly, furrowing his brows and seeming to deflate in just a couple of seconds.
"If I find out, I'll tell you, but it seems like…" Then I realised the reason for his mood shift and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Come on, these are just temporary difficulties! You'll take down brother Magdaran when the time comes! I believe in you…"
I was rudely interrupted by a ball of fire, nearly meeting Sairaorg's shaggy head, but I managed to raise a shield of Destructive Power. We both turned in surprise towards the approaching idiot, accompanied by all the curious and/or stunned onlookers, amidst the upturned chunks of earth and broken trees around us.
"You should step away from my future bride, Bael," Raiser Phenex said with a mocking undertone, seemingly oblivious to my shield having devoured his fireball with ease.
But his Queen, this time not drowning Phenex in her bosom, gave him a concerned look right after my shield of Destruction disappeared. She'd clearly noted how quickly I raised it — I had nothing much to but play around with this power. So it was well on its way to becoming an unconscious reflex, to be honest. Things were far, far worse with that Imagination magic Austin had promised me, and even more so with soul magic, which genuinely interested me because of what Austin had done to me — or rather, because I didn't understand at all what he'd done.
But the Power of Destruction was quite sufficient for self‑defence. She realised that since I didn't need any Pillar Seal for this magic, I could keep absorbing his attacks without breaking a sweat. That's when a thoughtful expression appeared on her face. Predictable — if she could use magic, she clearly wasn't the dumbest devil in the Underworld by definition.
"You should fuck off, Phenex," I advised. "This isn't your business at all. It's how we communicate. Also called friendship. I realise such things aren't familiar to you, but…"
"Do you think I'll let you make him your Piece?" Phenex chuckled, igniting flames in his palm again. "Or do you think I don't understand that someone like him would never agree unless you defeat him? So let me claim this victory for myself, Rias."
"You've got it all wrong, Raiser," Sairaorg said in confusion, but tried to shift position and assume a fighting stance.
"My name is," I narrowed my eyes and yanked Sairaorg back behind my shoulder. My altered hands, dark mist, and black lightning reappeared as my rage surged, "Gabrias Gremory. 'Rias' is only for close relatives and friends. You're nobody to me, so you'd better hold your tongue — shove it right into that chicken arse you mistakenly call head. To be more precise."
The snickers from the drama‑loving crowd around us pushed Raiser over the edge — and triggered my System to notify me about calibrating the sins of Pride and Wrath.
This idiot decided to go hand‑to‑hand, but I certainly wasn't going to pull my punches or avoid using the Power of Destruction. However, I hadn't counted on Sairaorg — like any proper older brother, even if only a cousin — trying to protect me, even if he knew it wasn't necessary. So instead of devouring this half‑witted near‑immortal's limbs with my power as planned, I was distracted by Sairaorg.
And by the damned System, which once again popped up a notification right before my eyes, asking me to add the teleportation bracelet as a module.
"Yes, yes, just fuck off," I muttered, watching a wave of fire engulf my Aura of Destruction, which had become a shield not only for me but also for Sairaorg within its bounds. "God, what an idiot this guy is…"
"Ow, ouch!" Sairaorg hissed out, clutching his temples and wincing in pain. "Rias, how did you…"
MODULE CONNECTED
… SEARCHING FOR MODULES…
… SEARCH…
MODULE DETECTED
COORDINATES
…
"What the fuck is this…"
I looked at Sairaorg, who had stopped cringing, but he saw the panic in my eyes and even opened his mouth in response to my cursing.
I didn't get to finish swearing.
…
TRANSFER INITIATED