{Present, Tannin's Mountain}
[Vial of Dragon Flame: A substance that can be added to an item once to permanently integrate the Dragon Flame ability into it.]
Not a single scratch. That's the level I was at right now. Even with him pushing into Ultimate Class, Bova couldn't leave so much as a mark or a burn on me.
[Pendant of Resistance's Immunity under cooldown: 2 Hours 58 Minutes]
And the pendant came in clutch. Without it, I might've actually failed the quest against his fire.
But now, I definitely had some questions to answer.
"That…" Tannin's eyes were glued to me. "Those flames had no effect on you?"
Even Sirzechs just looked at me in silence, not wanting to stir up more confusion than what was already in the air.
"Those weren't normal flames," Tannin continued, glancing at the unconscious Bova, scales cracked across his head and snout. "Demonic Dragon's Breath would've left a mark on even Lucifer."
That line almost made me smirk.
If the ability even worked on Lucifer, then yeah—I wanted Bova in my peerage no matter what.
But for now, I had to give an answer. Even if it meant admitting to a little cheating.
"Well…" I put on an awkward look, doing my best to sell a guilty conscience. "It was because of this."
I pointed at the pendant. "It's a treasure of my family. It lets the wearer be immune to any kind of fire for a set period of time."
No need for them to know about the other resistances it came with.
"Barbatos or Valefar?" Sirzechs asked, clearly thrown off. "I've never seen either of your parents use something like that."
"Valefar," I lied without hesitation. "It was buried deep in the treasury. There is a high chance my mother never even noticed it. I only found it because I was searching for jewelry with monetary value."
I turned to Tannin.
"And I hope that's not considered unfair." My tone carried a hint of finality. I had no intention of fighting again—but if I had to, I would. "It's part of my family's crafts."
Surprisingly—or maybe not—Tannin grinned.
"No one expects their opponents to fight fair, or come unarmed." His eyes shifted back to his unconscious son. "It was my foolish boy who lost his head and rushed in without thinking. Even with Demonic Dragon's Breath, he would've lost to stronger enemies. He's lucky this was just a friendly match."
His grin broke into booming laughter. "You truly did defeat my son. I can see why Lucifer has been praising your abilities."
Good thing I didn't have to face Tannin himself. I wasn't sure I could win against him.
Dragons like him often had abilities a tier higher than their rank—meaning Tannin probably had Satan Class abilities. And there was no way in hell I could win against Satan Class.
Once it was clear Tannin wasn't offended and had no issue with the match, Sirzechs finally stepped forward.
"So," he said with a calm smile, "what's your answer, Tannin? He defeated your son as required, he impressed you, and you can clearly see he's the same as the Gremorys—we don't mistreat our peerage."
That set the former Dragon King off into another round of booming laughter.
"We are dragons, Sirzechs." He didn't call him Lucifer, just used his real name. "We would rather die than serve in an undeserving peerage. We would kill the master of such a peerage and accept death for it, but we would never follow an unfit master or one who doesn't respect us." His voice dropped lower. "I have no issue with Bova joining his peerage. Just know, Bova can be a handful and cause more trouble than he solves."
"I'm fine with that." I spoke with confidence. "I want someone who isn't afraid to fight and is loyal. Bova seems to be both, and that's more than enough for me."
He was an absolute tank. When I used that hammer, it wasn't just High Class devil strength. I put my entire body into it—strength on the level of an Ultimate Class devil.
And all it did was knock him out. A massive hammer to the head, and all he walked away with were a few cracked scales.
Considering dragon scales regrow in less than a day, it couldn't even be called a real injury.
That's how tough Bova was physically—at this age. I wouldn't be surprised if he reached Tannin's level sooner than later.
"Then I have no worries," the Dragon King said. "Once he wakes up, you'll talk to him. In the end, it's not my word but his. Though as his father, I know he doesn't break promises. And he did say he'd join you if you managed to beat him."
His jaw spread wide, hundreds of teeth bared toward me. "All you need to do is wait for him to wake up."
As for that…
"I might have a way to wake him up," I said confidently. "If you allow me."
Tannin looked confused and turned toward Sirzechs.
Sirzechs, though, looked at me. "He has an ability that hasn't been seen in any of his ancestors. His blood… it has a healing property. It can even cure diseases we once thought incurable."
That got a small flicker of amusement from Tannin, though he didn't seem to care much.
"If it wakes him, then do it," was all he said.
Every devil who'd learned of my blood was either too shocked or too greedy for it. The dragon? He didn't even care.
Why?
For now, I focused on the unconscious dragonoid.
Slicing my palm with the bracelet—something I'd gotten way too used to—I let the drops of blood drip into his mouth.
The healing wasn't my only goal. Leaving behind the Asura Mark was just as important.
Imagine being stuck in a fight, needing backup. With the Mark: locate, teleport to them, teleport them back with you.
That's why it mattered to leave the mark on allies.
The healing worked perfectly too. The cracked scales didn't fall away like they usually would on a dragon. Instead, the broken pieces mended, sealing back into their original state with no trace of cracks or dents.
"I've never seen a devil with blood healing before," Tannin admitted, clearly impressed. "He might be even more special than your sister—and the rest of the heirs, Lucifer."
Sirzechs didn't comment on that. He hated it when anyone called his sister inferior, but this time? He couldn't deny it.
The bloodlines and the system gave me too much of an unfair advantage over every other devil.
Like now.
It healed whatever internal injuries Bova had, enough to make his eyes twitch and finally open.
The dragon boy's gaze fixed on me as his vision adjusted to the light and the blur.
"I don't believe you feel any pain, do you?"
My question made him frown for a moment before he turned his head, scanning his surroundings while still lying on the ground.
"No," he grumbled. "I feel… fine."
With that, Bova pushed himself up and stood a few feet away from me.
"Gahaha!" Tannin's booming laugh drew his attention. "Not as bad as you expected, is he, Bova?"
Bova muttered something under his breath, kept his eyes on the ground, then finally looked at me.
"You are strong," he admitted. "But I will not serve in your peerage if you mistreat me or anyone else in it. I won't respect you just because you're the master, and I will not bow to others."
Strong demands for someone who just lost.
"But I will fight whenever you need me to. I won't back down, even against someone stronger, and I will protect the peerage even if it hurts me." He straightened his back. "If you agree with that, then I'll join. Otherwise, I won't."
I thought about saying something sharp, but honestly, those weren't the worst conditions.
"I agree to treat you with respect, and I won't force you to go against your beliefs." Then I added the caveat. "But if it's ever between your honor and the safety of the peerage—the people who matter—I will order you to turn against your beliefs."
That's the core of a peerage.
If you can't sacrifice your pride to protect the ones beside you, you're better off not being there at all.
That made the dragon think.
Even Sirzechs and Tannin were watching closely, each with their own thoughts.
"I…" His scaled face twisted into a frown. "I can agree to those terms."
And just like that, he accepted.
"Then," I extended my hand. "I welcome you to the peerage, Bova the Destroyer."
In my palm appeared a glowing chess piece—a rook. It carried the colors of Barbatos, flaring with the glow of Valefar.
"My rook."
Bova stared at it for a full minute, silent, weighing his choice. Then, with resolve, he looked me dead in the eye and clasped my hand, taking the piece.
The rook burst into a swirling light of purple and gold before sinking into his chest—into his heart.
He frowned as the piece fused into him. Pain flickered across his face, but he endured it without a sound. And then, I felt it—his demonic power rising sharply.
[The chosen individual has a high potential capable of consuming both rook pieces if compared by bloodline and demonic power alone.]
[Adding in your potential with the system.]
[Potential of chosen individual within threshold. One rook piece suffices.]
Almost…
No.
[Rank: Ultimate-Class]
He broke straight into the lowest tier of Ultimate Class.
"Gahaha!" Tannin roared with laughter as he felt the surge of power rolling off his son. "Faiser's strength let the piece boost the demonic power inside Bova! An Ultimate Class at such a young age!"
It wasn't really much I did—or even what the piece did. Bova was already on the edge of breaking into Ultimate Class. The piece just gave him the push he needed.
And that push shoved him straight into a terrifying tier.
[Congratulations! You have added your second peerage member!]
[Name: Bova Tannin]
[Race: Dragon-Devil Hybrid]
[Rank: Ultimate Class]
[Abilities: Size Alteration, Scale Defense, Fire Breath, Demonic Dragon's Breath, Demonic Power, Flight, Brute's Rage]
[Items: —]
Not on Ingvild's level when it came to variety, but definitely terrifying in his own way.
[Size Alteration: Freely alter body size to extreme limits—both massive and small.]
[Scale Defense: Draconic scales grant a defensive layer ten times stronger than steel, reducing impact force along with physical and magical damage.]
[Fire Breath: Expel fire capable of burning through most materials.]
[Demonic Dragon's Breath: Superior fire, a fusion of dragon and devil essence, able to burn through nearly all matter—including holy power.]
[Brute's Rage: Temporarily shuts down pain receptors and boosts physical and magical power to extreme levels at the cost of sanity.]
That pulled a smile out of me.
[Peerage: Ingvild Leviathan (Queen)(+), Bova Tannin (Rook)(+)]
With a grin I couldn't quite hide, I announced:
"Congratulations, Bova Tannin. You're now a part of my peerage," I said. "The Rook of Faiser Valefar-Barbatos."
And I was damn sure I'd turn him into the strongest dragon to ever exist.
* * *
{Same Time, Barbatos Manor}
—Ingvild Leviathan—
Ingvild had spent the past few days buried in books, studying the history of the last hundred years—both in the Underworld and the human world. She hadn't realized before just how much devil interaction with humans had multiplied over the century. And now, there was a high chance she'd be going to the human world alongside Faiser in a month or so.
Studying didn't mean she ignored everything else.
She was still Faiser's queen. And while he never asked her to do anything, she always took note of his schedule, his habits, his likes—anything that could help her accommodate his needs whenever he wanted something.
Like now. Even though he wasn't here yet, she knew he'd recently developed a taste for rosemary tea. And he loved her baking, which was why she'd decided two days ago to try the internet—something she was already getting a little addicted to. She dove into French recipes: macarons, canelés, mille-feuille—the last one being the hardest for her.
Still, she made sure all of it was prepared for when he arrived.
She also tracked his plans—at least the ones he actually shared with her, like the visit to Tannin's mountain. As for the rest? She'd given up.
Faiser was unpredictable. His likes and dislikes, she could mostly figure out. But his plans? They never lined up. No patterns, no hints. Every time she thought she had him figured out, he went in a completely different direction. So she stopped trying, choosing instead to focus on helping him in other ways.
With the maids and butlers handling cleaning and gardening, she spent her days cooking, reading, and training to master her powers.
Some days she'd visit the parlor or go shopping with Rias. Other days she'd study alone or help Sona with water magic.
Helping Sona helped her too—she learned how Sitri manipulated water and picked up strategies she'd never considered before.
All in all, she was happier than she'd ever been. For the first time, she felt like she belonged somewhere.
And she was rarely alone now.
"Ingvild-chan!"
Because right on cue, a certain Satan had a habit of dropping in uninvited.
"How are youuuuuu!"
Serafall's chest pressed against her face as she popped out of a teleportation circle and latched onto her.
"I missseeeddd youuuuu!"
Ingvild felt suffocated, but she didn't complain. It was nice that Serafall came to check on her, and in a way, treated her like a younger sister.
"S-Serafall." She finally managed to push her back enough to breathe. "Good evening."
Over the past few days, Serafall had insisted Ingvild call her by name. Even when Ingvild resisted, the Satan threw such a fit that she eventually gave in—at least when no political figures were around.
"Whatchu' doing?" Serafall asked, peering around the room. "Faiser's not here yet?"
"He's still at Tannin's Mountain," Ingvild answered, watching the overly curious Satan. "And I wasn't doing much. Just reading a few books."
Serafall flopped onto the couch, stretching out like she owned the place. "The office was soooo boring I had to run away!"
She said it almost proudly, which made Ingvild blink at her a few times.
"Wouldn't that… get you in trouble?"
Serafall waved her off, "Eh, I'm used to the complaints."
'That… isn't a good thing, is it?' Ingvild thought, but kept it to herself. Instead, she asked, "Would you like to try some macarons?"
That made Serafall's eyes sparkle. "Of course!"
Smiling at her enthusiasm, Ingvild walked toward the pantry while Serafall slouched back on the couch.
Ingvild brought out six macarons and four mille-feuille, the latter having taken her twice as long to make.
When she returned with the sweets and tea, Serafall was lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling.
Setting the items on the table, Ingvild sat close by.
"Do you think Faiser is pushing himself a bit too much?" Serafall asked out of nowhere, surprising her. "Like… he could slow down and still get everything he wants, but instead he hasn't taken a single day off. He's just burying himself in work."
Ingvild didn't know why Serafall suddenly asked that, but she couldn't deny the truth either. Faiser had been pushing himself.
"He said he woke up only a few days before me," she recalled. "And he was frozen in time four hundred years longer than I was. Yet… he doesn't seem out of place."
"He's forcing himself to adjust," Serafall admitted.
"He wants to hurry, so he belongs," Ingvild agreed quietly. "Maybe he thinks if he doesn't, everyone else will move further ahead… and then it'll be even harder to catch up. Harder to connect."
Serafall stayed silent for a while before finally picking up a pastry. "But even so, what else is he pushing for? I can tell there's something more. A sense of urgency. But what's the reason behind it?"
Both of them knew it wasn't just about adjusting or being left behind. Faiser had secrets—ones even the Satans and the Elders didn't know.
It was troubling. But forcing the answers out of him wasn't an option.
"Please," Serafall sighed, biting into the pastry. "Let me know if he says anything. I'm… worried about him."
She paused, then smiled at Ingvild. "And these pastries are lovely~"
Ingvild smiled back, though something weighed on her mind. Something she had noticed but hadn't figured out how to ask until now.
"Serafall," she said carefully, looking at the lazing Satan. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure~" Serafall popped a macaron into her mouth, finishing it in one bite. "This is amazing!"
Ingvild didn't waver.
"What do you feel about Faiser?" she asked, watching closely as Serafall's face froze.
"Faiser?" Serafall blinked. "What do you mean?"
Ingvild narrowed her eyes slightly but kept her expression calm. "I mean… how do you feel about him as an individual."
The Satan looked surprised. Still, she thought about it.
"How do I feel…" Serafall's gaze drifted back to the ceiling. "I obviously care about him. He's the son of my mentor. I have a responsibility to keep him safe and help him when I can."
"As a…" Ingvild clarified, "man."
That made Serafall pause again. This time even longer. She looked conflicted—almost confused by her own feelings.
"Be honest," Ingvild pressed. "I may be younger than you, but I've been around older devils all my life. Older than you—and devils who hid their emotions constantly, Serafall."
The Satan pressed her lips into a thin line. She wanted to laugh it off, to lie. But she couldn't. Not here. Not with Ingvild.
And she knew it too—Ingvild was more mature than Rias or any other devils her age.
If she lied, Ingvild would know.
So, with uncertainty heavy in her voice, Serafall finally answered.
"I'm confused," Serafall admitted. "I obviously care for him, but I don't know if it's entirely because of his mother. Sometimes… I come here not to honor Lady Isolde, but because I just want to spend time with Faiser. Genuinely. I want him to succeed, to be happy, to have what he wants just because… he's Faiser." She looked at Ingvild. "I care for him. But in what way… I'm still not sure. Does that make sense?"
Ingvild didn't answer right away. She couldn't explain Serafall's feelings either. But she did know one thing.
"I like Faiser," she said honestly. "Not just as his queen, or as someone indebted to him. I like him as a man. The way a woman likes a man."
"Oh." That was all Serafall could manage, unsure what else to say, or what to even feel.
"It isn't because he saved me, or because I owe him," Ingvild continued. "It's because he's kind, sweet, and caring. When I'm around him, I know I won't be hurt. I feel safe, secure… even happy. I like him as a man, and I don't think that will change." Her tone carried quiet confidence.
Serafall stayed silent.
"But I also know he doesn't have to feel the same way about me." Ingvild smiled softly. "Whoever he likes—whoever he falls in love with—I'll support it, even if it isn't me." Her voice stayed steady, honest. "So Serafall… think about him. Not me, or anyone else."
"What do—"
"You know what I mean." Ingvild held her smile, though Serafall could see the nervous edge behind it.
Serafall kept staring at her, still unsure how to respond.
"I see." That was all she could manage. "I'll… keep that in mind."
She was conflicted. And she knew this wasn't something that could be solved quickly. It was something she would have to figure out herself—and it would take time.
Devils rarely had honest feelings. Most of what they felt was superficial.
But the rare times they truly did feel something—it was hard to understand. Harder still to accept.
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{A/N: Got a pat reon named RedLamp01 with 30+ chapters. }