The silence on the arena was almost palpable. Hundreds of high-society demons watched, holding their breath, at the two figures in the center of the dark, volcanic glass platform. The wedding was forgotten, the ceremony interrupted. All that mattered now was the unofficial duel between the immortal heir of the Phoenix clan and the mysterious newcomer who had dared to challenge him. The air crackled with tension and the anticipation of a bloody spectacle.
...
We stood opposite each other under the crimson sky of the Underworld. Riser Phoenix, wreathed in golden flames, his fiery wings spread wide, his face twisted in rage. He looked like an enraged griffin, ready to incinerate the insolent fool who had dared to doubt his greatness.
And me. Calm on the outside, hands in my pockets. But inside, a cold fire of excitement was building. Finally. Not just sparring, not just scattering small-fry. An opponent with a name, with power, with vaunted regeneration. An excellent opportunity to test myself and dispel some of this suffocating boredom.
"Well, you nothing? Ready to die?" Riser roared.
"Die? I thought that was your privilege—to whimper and revive," I drawled lazily. "Let's just get this started, birdie. The guests are getting bored."
My calmness pushed him over the edge. He roared and lunged, coming at me like a fireball. A fist wreathed in flame shot toward my face.
I caught his fist easily in my palm. CLAP! The flame howled and died, doing me no harm. Riser's eyes widened in shock.
"What?... How?..."
"Predictable," I said, and squeezed his fist. A crunch of bone. He cried out. I shoved him back.
He stumbled away, staring at his broken hand, which immediately began to regenerate, enveloped in golden light. Rage and bewilderment fought on his face.
"You... you'll pay!" He unleashed a barrage of fire magic at me. Orbs, whips, and vortexes of flame filled the space around me.
I stood motionless, letting the fire rage. It didn't harm me. It simply passed through me or extinguished on approach.
"Is that all?" I asked, once the firestorm subsided. "Your fire doesn't even feel warm. It's all show."
Riser froze. His primary weapon was useless. Fear began to seep through his arrogance.
"Who... are... you?!"
"Someone who's tired of waiting," I replied, and decided to play a little.
***
I stopped standing still. I began to move, but not at full speed. I dodged his attacks at the last second, letting the flames singe the edges of my clothes (though my body remained unharmed), sometimes even pretending his blows forced me to take a step back.
Riser, seeing this, regained some of his spirit. Fear gave way to rage and excitement. He decided I was just fast and had some kind of fire resistance, but wasn't actually strong. He doubled his assault, his attacks growing more ferocious, trying to overwhelm me with his power and speed.
"Aha! Scared of my flames, upstart?!" he yelled, hurling fireballs. "I'll roast you alive!"
I continued to "play," dodging, blocking some hits in a way that made it look like I was struggling. I was letting him think he had a chance. Letting his arrogance take over again. The higher he soared in his confidence, the harder the fall would be.
In the stands, the guests grew animated. They saw the "immortal" Phoenix pressing the unknown challenger. The odds were probably tipping back in his favor. Riser's peerage cheered for their master. Rias's team watched tensely; Issei was clenching his fists, not understanding why I wasn't fighting back seriously.
"What is he doing?" he whispered to Kiba. "Why is he just dodging?"
"Maybe... he's studying him," Kiba guessed uncertainly.
Rias and Akeno were silent, their faces impassive. They had seen my power before and understood this was just a game.
I continued my "dance," letting Riser chase me around the arena, letting him waste his energy, fueling his rage. He became sloppier, his attacks less precise but more furious. He was certain he was about to pin me down. The perfect moment to end the game.
***
"Playtime's over," I said, suddenly stopping in the middle of the arena.
Riser, flying at me with another fire-ram attack, couldn't react in time. I took one step to the side, and he shot past. And then I struck my foot. A sharp, snapping kick, straight up into his jaw.
CRUNCH!
Riser's jaw twisted at an unnatural angle. His body flew into the air and crashed onto the dark glass of the arena several meters away. The golden glow of regeneration enveloped his face, setting the bones. But the shock and pain from the unexpected, powerful attack were written clear on his face.
"What...?" he rasped, getting to his feet.
"Warm-up's over," I said, and bent down, easily breaking several large, head-sized shards from the arena's glass floor. The material was tough, magically reinforced, but for my strength, it was no barrier. "Remember Issei's training? The stones? You were spying then, weren't you? Let's see how you like being the target."
And I threw the first stone. My physical strength was enough to give it the speed of a gauss cannon projectile. The stone whistled through the air, leaving a distorted trail.
Riser instinctively threw up a fire shield. The stone hit it... and tore right through, barely slowing. It struck Riser in the shoulder. There was a dull thud and a crack of bone. The golden glow of regeneration flared, but the stone had punched through his flesh, leaving a ragged wound.
"Aaaargh!" Riser howled in pain and terror. He hadn't expected such power from a simple rock.
And I was already throwing the second. The third. The fourth. I was ripping chunks out of the arena and hurling them with incredible speed and precision. This wasn't just a hail of stones like Issei's. This was a deadly storm. The stones tore through his fire shields, ripped his flesh, and shattered his bones.
In the stands, Issei watched with wide-open eyes. He remembered his training. The stones I had thrown at him were children's toys compared to this. They had left bruises, but nothing more. He felt a cold sweat on his back, mentally thanking every god and demon that I had been holding back then.
Riser scrambled across the arena, trying to dodge, raising shields, firing back. But it was useless. The stones found him again and again. His body was being turned into a bloody sieve. Regeneration was working overtime, the golden glow never dimming, but it could no longer keep up with the damage. Blood, the red blood of a Phoenix, stained the arena's dark glass.
"Stop! I beg you!" he screamed, his voice breaking with pain and fear.
"Stop?" I smirked, picking up a particularly large chunk of the arena. "But the fun part just started."
I threw the slab. It flew straight at him. In desperation, Riser threw up all his flame, creating his most powerful fire barrier. The slab hit it... and passed right through, like a knife through butter. It struck Riser in the chest, crushing his torso, breaking his ribs and spine. He was thrown across the arena, slamming into the spectators' protective barrier before collapsing to the floor, motionless.
***
I slowly approached Riser's unmoving body. He was alive. Barely. His body was mangled, bones broken in multiple places. Regeneration was still trying to work, the golden glow pulsing weakly, but the wounds were too severe. He lay in a pool of his own blood, moaning softly. In his eyes, when he managed to pry them open and look at me, there was only primal terror and the expectation of death.
I stood over him. The hall was dead silent. Everyone—demons, aristocrats, Riser's peerage, Rias's team—stared at me with awe. They weren't just seeing a victory. They were seeing absolute domination. Annihilation.
I leaned down.
"Well, immortal one?" I whispered in his ear. "Still want to take Rias? Still think you're all-powerful?"
He didn't answer. Just gave a choked gasp.
"You're a nobody, Riser," I continued, just as quietly, but my words were audible to everyone in that oppressive silence. "An empty space. Your power is nothing. Your name is nothing. Your life… will soon be nothing, too."
I raised my fist. I was going to end it. To erase him. To fulfill my part of the deal with Sirzechs—to win. But I would do it my way. Permanently. So he could never threaten anyone ever again. So his example would be a lesson to all the arrogant bastards in this world.
My fist began to descend, carrying the power to turn his head into a bloody pulp that no regeneration could restore.
"Enough, Izayoi Jin-kun!"
Sirzechs Lucifer's voice rang out, unexpectedly loud and commanding. He was no longer in his box, but standing on the edge of the arena, having stepped through the barrier as if it weren't there. Grayfia was at his side.
Sirzechs was smiling his usual smile, but his eyes were steel.
"You've won, Izayoi-kun. Brilliantly. Crushingly. You have proven your superiority. The wedding will not happen. Riser Phoenix's honor is destroyed. This is enough."
I looked at him, my fist frozen an inch from Riser's face.
"Enough?" I repeated coldly. "He wanted to humiliate Rias. He threatened her friends. He insulted me. I'd say he deserves more than just a defeat."
"Perhaps," Sirzechs nodded. "But understand, Izayoi-kun, Riser is the heir to one of the 72 pillars of the Underworld. He is a pure-blooded, high-class demon. And there aren't many of those left after the Great War and the Civil War. His blood is valuable to our kind. His death could have unpredictable consequences, disrupt the fragile balance of power. I, as one of the Satans, cannot permit the senseless destruction of such an important figure, no matter what a scoundrel he may be."
He walked closer, his smile softening, but his gaze remained firm.
"You have already achieved everything you wanted. You showed your power. You saved my sister from a hateful marriage. Show mercy, Izayoi-kun. Or at least… pragmatism. Let him live. Let him live with his shame. For him, that will be a punishment worse than death."
He looked me right in the eye. A Satan was asking me to spare a vanquished foe. Not ordering, but asking. Citing the greater interests of demon society. What irony.
I looked down at Riser, at his mangled, trembling body. At his terrified eyes. Kill him now? Yes, it would be easy. And, perhaps, just. But Sirzechs was right, too. It could cause problems. Big problems. And I don't like problems. I like quiet. And boredom, which can occasionally be relieved by a good fight.
The fight was over. Riser was broken. The wedding was off. My goal was achieved. Killing him now was, truly, pointless. And uninteresting.
I slowly lowered my fist.
"Fine, Lucifer," I said, stepping back from Riser. "Take your whelp. But if he ever crosses my path or stands against me again, I won't be listening to any Satans. I'll just erase him."
I turned my back on the fallen enemy, on his sobbing parents, on the shocked spectators. I looked at Rias. She was staring at me, tears in her eyes—tears of relief, of gratitude, and perhaps, of something else.
I headed for the portal Grayfia had created.
"My payment?" I tossed over my shoulder at Sirzechs.
"It will be delivered later," he smiled. "Along with your pass. You've earned it, Izayoi Jin.