Part I:
The Underworld's Grand Colosseum was a monument to devil excess.
Carved from obsidian and crimson stone, the massive arena could seat fifty thousand spectators comfortably—and today, every single seat was filled. Magical screens floated throughout the stadium, ensuring perfect views from every angle. The air hummed with excitement, demonic energy, and the kind of electric anticipation that only came before bloodsport.
Well, "bloodsport" was a strong word. Rating Games were civilized bloodsport. Mostly.
In the VIP section—a luxurious box suspended high above the arena floor with the best view, climate control, and a full catering staff—Caelan Lucifuge sat in uncomfortable elegance.
He wore formal devil nobility attire: a perfectly tailored black suit with silver accents that matched his hair and eyes. It was suffocating. He hated it. But appearances mattered in events like this.
Beside him, Kino sat on a specially raised cushion so she could see over the railing, wearing an adorable white dress with ice-blue ribbons that Grayfia had commissioned. Her glacial eyes were wide with wonder as she took in the massive crowd.
"Papa, there are SO MANY PEOPLE!"
"Fifty thousand, approximately."
"That's a lot!"
"It's a major tournament. The young devil nobility doesn't get many chances to prove themselves."
"Will Uncle Lucien fight?"
Caelan's eye twitched slightly at "Uncle Lucien," but he let it slide. Kino had decided that everyone in his family was now her family too, complete with titles.
"Yes. He's fighting in the first match."
"Against who?"
"Sona Sitri. She's a tactician. Very intelligent."
"Will she win?"
"No."
"How do you know?"
"Because I trained her. And I know my brother's capabilities. Lucien is... significantly more powerful."
Kino tilted her head. "That sounds sad."
"It's realistic."
Sharing the VIP box with them were several other notable figures:
Lord Zeoticus and Lady Venelana Gremory sat regally in high-backed chairs, looking every inch the noble grandparents. Venelana occasionally glanced at Caelan with an expression that suggested she wanted to say something but wasn't sure how.
Sirzechs Lucifer stood near the back, arms crossed, watching the arena with the casual posture of someone who could destroy everything in sight but chose not to. His crimson hair seemed to glow even in the magical lighting.
Grayfia Lucifuge stood beside him in her maid uniform, ever-professional, but her eyes kept drifting to Kino with barely concealed grandmother instincts.
Serafall Leviathan had somehow smuggled herself into their box despite having her own Maou seating area. She wore a magical girl costume—because of course she did—and was currently trying to convince Kino that "magical girls are the coolest thing ever."
"And then you pose like THIS—" Serafall struck a dramatic pose. "—and shout your attack name!"
"COOL!" Kino tried to copy the pose and nearly fell off her cushion.
Caelan caught her with one hand. "Please don't encourage her."
"But she's so CUTE!" Serafall squealed. "Can I adopt her?"
"No."
"Pretty please?"
"No."
"I'll give you government contracts—"
"I said no."
Azazel lounged in a corner with a glass of expensive wine, looking amused by everything. The Fallen Angel Governor had apparently invited himself and no one had the energy to kick him out.
"This is going to be entertaining," he said. "Young devils trying to murder each other politely. My favorite kind of event."
Gabriel sat gracefully near the window, her divine presence making the air feel lighter. She smiled warmly at Kino whenever the little girl looked her way.
And Freya, because apparently the Norse goddess had decided she was part of this now, sat with her legs crossed elegantly, radiating that dangerous beauty that made mortal men weep and immortal men nervous.
"I must say," Freya observed, "devil tournaments are far more... elaborate than our Norse combat trials."
"You just throw people into pits with monsters," Azazel pointed out.
"Exactly. Efficient."
"Barbaric."
"Effective."
Down in the regular seating sections, Caelan could see various devil houses and their retainers. The 72 Pillars were well-represented. Political factions subtly positioning themselves. Allies and rivals sitting in carefully calculated arrangements.
It was like watching a chess board made of living pieces.
Part II:
The lights dimmed.
A massive magical projection appeared in the center of the arena—a three-dimensional display showing the tournament bracket.
Then, with a flash of crimson light, Sirzechs Lucifer appeared in the arena center via teleportation.
The crowd erupted.
"LUCIFER-SAMA!"
"THE CRIMSON SATAN!"
"ALL HAIL THE MAOU!"
Sirzechs smiled that politician's smile—warm, approachable, hiding the fact that he could erase everyone present with a thought—and raised one hand. The crowd fell silent immediately.
"Welcome," his magically amplified voice echoed through the colosseum, "to the Young Devils Rating Game Tournament!"
Cheers. Applause. Demonic energy crackling through the air.
"This tournament," Sirzechs continued, "represents the future of devil society. The young nobles gathered here today will shape our world for centuries to come. They have trained. They have prepared. And now, they will prove their worth."
More cheers.
"Let me introduce our competitors!"
Seven teleportation circles flared to life across the arena floor.
From the first circle: Rias Gremory and her full peerage. She wore her formal battle attire—elegant red armor that accentuated her figure while providing protection. Her crimson hair billowed dramatically as she stepped forward, the Power of Destruction crackling faintly around her hands.
Behind her stood her team:
Akeno Himejima, wearing her priestess-style battle outfit, looking serene and dangerousKoneko Toujou, in a modified combat version of her school uniformRossweisse, in Valkyrie armor that showed off her impressive figureYuuto Kiba, looking pretty as always in knight's armorXenovia Quarta, carrying Durandal across her back, the holy sword gleamingGasper Vladi, peeking nervously from behind AsiaAsia Argento, in white robes with healing symbolsIssei Hyoudou, wearing his Scale Mail gauntlet, looking pumpedRavel Phenex, in modified Phoenix family colors adapted for Gremory crimson
The crowd roared for the Gremory heiress.
From the second circle: Sona Sitri and her Student Council peerage. She wore elegant blue battle robes, her glasses catching the light as she surveyed the crowd with tactical precision.
Her team stood in perfect formation:
Tsubaki Shinra, her Queen, in traditional combat kimonoGenshirou Saji, looking nervous but determinedThe rest of her precisely coordinated team (Lazy Author)
From the third circle: Sairaorg Bael.
Even standing still, the man radiated power. He was built like a tank—pure muscle wrapped in red-and-gold armor. His Pristine hair was tied back, and his eyes held the intensity of someone who had fought for everything he had.
His peerage emerged behind him, each member looking absolutely deadly.
The crowd went INSANE. Sairaorg was a fan favorite—the underdog who overcame his lack of inherited power through sheer willpower and training.
From the fourth circle: Lucien Gremory.
Caelan leaned forward slightly.
His twin brother stepped into the arena light, and the resemblance was... striking. Same height maybe a bit taller. Same general build. But where Caelan was winter, Lucien was fire. Crimson hair that matched their father's. Golden eyes that gleamed with confidence. He wore armor that blended Gremory crimson with Lucifer gold, a statement of both his heritage and his position.
The Power of Destruction emanated from him in visible waves—crimson and black energy that distorted the air.
Behind him emerged his peerage:
Seekvaira Agares, his Queen—beautiful, intelligent, wearing elegant battle robes in the Agares family colors. Her eyes scanned the arena with tactical assessment that rivaled Sona's.
Tannin the Dragon King—in humanoid form, towering over everyone else. The massive dragon in devil's skin wore minimal armor, his scales providing natural protection. He was one of the most powerful Rooks in existence.
Kuroka—the SS-class criminal, recently pardoned. The black-haired nekomata wore a modified kimono that showed off her curves, her cat ears twitching as she surveyed the crowd with lazy amusement. As a Bishop, her Senjutsu abilities were legendary.
Mira—a human Bishop, surprisingly. A young woman with brown hair and glasses, wearing simple mage robes. Lucien had reincarnated her after she'd proven herself as a Sacred Gear researcher.
Ruval Phenex—Riser's older brother, serving as Lucien's Knight. The Phenex son had been traded to Lucien's peerage in a political arrangement. He wore Phenex gold mixed with Gremory crimson, his flames flickering around his armor.
And several Pawns—five in total, each one carefully selected:
Lint Sellzen, a former exorcist who'd been excommunicatedMil-tan, a muscle-bound man in a magical girl costume (yes, really)Bennia, a Grim Reaper who'd been recruitedNakiri, a young swordswomanGressil, a former street fighter from the devil slums
The crowd's reaction to Lucien was LOUD. The Crimson Prodigy. Sirzechs' adopted son. The golden boy of the new generation.
"LUCIEN-SAMA!"
"THE CRIMSON PRINCE!"
"GREMORY! GREMORY! GREMORY!"
Up in the VIP box, Kino tugged on Caelan's sleeve.
"Papa, everyone's cheering for Uncle Lucien."
"Yes."
"Why aren't they cheering for you?"
"Because I'm not competing."
"But you're his brother!"
"Twin brother. And it's... complicated."
"Do you want them to cheer for you?"
Caelan was quiet for a moment.
"No," he said finally. "Let him have his spotlight."
Kino looked at him with those too-knowing glacial eyes—remnants of Kinoe's ancient wisdom, perhaps—and said nothing.
From the fifth circle: Riser Phenex, looking as arrogant as ever, his all-female peerage arranged behind him like trophies. The crowd's reaction was... mixed. Lots of male cheering. Lots of female booing.
From the sixth circle: Diodora Astaroth, wearing a gentleman's smile that didn't reach his eyes. Something about him made Caelan's instincts scream wrong, but he had no concrete evidence of anything.
From the seventh circle: Zephyrdor Glasya-Labolas, young and eager, his peerage looking determined despite being clear underdogs.
Sirzechs gestured grandly. "These seven competitors will battle for glory, honor, and recognition! The tournament bracket has been determined!"
The magical projection shifted, showing the matchups:
FIRST ROUND:
Rias Gremory vs. Sairaorg BaelSona Sitri vs. Lucien GremoryRiser Phenex vs. Diodora AstarothZephyrdor Glasya-Labolas (bye)
"The first match," Sirzechs announced, "will begin in one hour! Sona Sitri versus Lucien Gremory!"
The arena erupted in excitement.
Up in the VIP box, Sona's older sister Serafall suddenly looked much more serious.
"So-tan's fighting first," she muttered. "Against the Crimson Prodigy."
"She's going to lose," Caelan said flatly.
"Have some faith!"
"I have statistics. Lucien is low Ultimate-class with a perfectly balanced peerage that includes a Dragon King and an SS-class criminal. Sona is high-class with excellent tactics but inferior firepower. The match will last approximately forty-three minutes."
"That's... oddly specific."
"I calculated multiple scenarios. Forty-three minutes is the median."
Serafall looked like she wanted to argue, but couldn't find a logical counter.
Because deep down, she knew he was right.
Part III:
The hour passed quickly.
The arena transformed—a dimensional battlefield materialized, replicating a section of the Underworld with varying terrain. Forests, clearings, stone ruins, a small lake. Multiple tactical options.
In the preparation rooms beneath the arena, both teams made final adjustments.
Sona's Preparation Room:
"Remember," Sona addressed her peerage, adjusting her glasses with that characteristic precision, "Lucien fights like a grandmaster. Every piece has multiple roles. We need to be unpredictable."
"How do we be unpredictable against someone who plans for everything?" Saji asked nervously.
"By making choices even we don't understand until we make them," Tsubaki suggested. "Controlled chaos."
"That's not a strategy—"
"It is now."
Sona took a deep breath. "We trained for this. Caelan-sensei gave us tools. Now we use them."
Lucien's Preparation Room:
Lucien stood calmly, the Power of Destruction swirling lazily around his hands.
"Standard formation," he said. "Seekvaira, you'll coordinate from midfield. Tannin, you're our anchor—nothing gets past you. Kuroka, Mira, provide support and harassment. Ruval, you're our speed striker. Pawns, you know your roles."
"Seems almost unfair," Kuroka purred. "They're so outmatched~"
"Every opponent deserves respect," Lucien countered. "Sona Sitri is one of the best tactical minds of our generation. Underestimating her would be stupid."
"But you're still going to win," Seekvaira observed.
"Yes. But respectfully."
Tannin rumbled with laughter. "I like this one. Confident but not arrogant."
"Let's just get this over with," Ruval said, flames dancing around his fingers. "I want to see if Rias can actually beat Sairaorg."
Part IV:
The arena screens flared to life.
Grayfia Lucifuge appeared as the official referee, her voice magically amplified across the colosseum.
"This is an official Rating Game between Sona Sitri and Lucien Gremory. Standard rules apply. Victory is achieved by defeating the opposing King or forcing surrender. Retired pieces will be teleported to medical facilities."
She raised one hand.
"The match begins... NOW."
Both teams spawned into their respective starting positions on opposite ends of the battlefield.
Sona immediately began issuing commands. "Formation Delta-Seven! Tsubaki, establish forward position! Saji, with me! Everyone else, scatter and establish information network!"
Her peerage moved like a well-oiled machine, spreading across the battlefield in calculated positions.
On the opposite side, Lucien simply raised one hand.
"Seekvaira. Analysis."
His Queen's eyes glowed with tactical magic. "Scanning... They're using a distributed information network. Trying to track our movements while staying mobile."
"Kuroka. Disrupt their communications."
"Nya~ With pleasure~"
The nekomata vanished into the forest, her Senjutsu allowing her to mask her presence completely.
Within two minutes, Sona's carefully constructed information network started failing. Magical communication links cut out. Scouts stopped reporting in.
"What—" Sona's eyes widened. "They're disrupting our coordination!"
"Sona-sama!" One of her Bishops called out. "I've lost contact with—"
An explosion of black energy.
Kuroka appeared behind the Bishop, grinning. "Peek-a-boo~"
"One of Sona Sitri's Bishops has been retired," Grayfia announced.
The crowd roared.
Up in the VIP box, Kino watched with wide eyes. "Papa, the cat lady is scary!"
"Kuroka. Yes. She's an SS-class criminal for a reason."
"But she looks so cute!"
"Appearances are deceiving."
Back on the battlefield, Sona gritted her teeth. "Reform! Defensive formation around—"
The ground erupted.
Tannin burst from beneath the earth, his draconic power sending shockwaves across the arena. Three of Sona's pieces scattered—one wasn't fast enough.
"Two Pawns retired."
"FALL BACK!" Sona commanded.
But Lucien was already moving.
The Power of Destruction manifested in his hands—not wild like when he was younger, but precise, controlled, surgical. He carved through Sona's defensive barriers like they were paper.
Tsubaki intercepted him, her sword flashing. "I won't let you reach Sona-sama!"
Their blades clashed—her Sacred Gear Mirror Alice activating, trying to reflect his attacks back.
Lucien smiled. "Impressive. But you're thinking two-dimensionally."
He vanished.
Reappeared behind her.
The Power of Destruction touched her shoulder—gentle, almost apologetic.
"Sona Sitri's Queen has been retired."
Tsubaki was teleported away before she could even process what happened.
The match had been going for eight minutes.
Sona was already down a Queen, a Bishop, and two Pawns.
"This is a massacre," Azazel observed from the VIP box.
"It's a tactical dismantling," Caelan corrected. "Lucien is systematically eliminating her key pieces while conserving his own energy. He hasn't even used his full power yet."
"Cold," Serafall muttered. "Effective, but cold."
On the battlefield, Saji tried desperately to create an opening. His Sacred Gear—Vritra's power—activated, generating absorption lines.
"If I can just drain his energy—"
Seekvaira appeared beside him with perfect timing.
"Good try."
Her magic hit him like a truck.
"One Pawn retired."
"NO!" Sona watching her peerage get picked apart piece by piece was agonizing.
She had to do something. Anything.
She charged forward, water magic swirling around her, preparing her most powerful attack—
And ran directly into Lucien, who had been waiting.
He caught her wrist gently. Almost sadly.
"You fought well," he said quietly, so the microphones wouldn't pick it up. "But this was over before it began."
The Power of Destruction manifested. Not to hurt her. Just to demonstrate the gap between them.
Sona looked into his golden eyes and saw the truth.
She'd never had a chance.
"...I surrender," she said.
"Lucien Gremory wins by surrender. Time elapsed: Seventeen minutes, forty-two seconds."
The crowd EXPLODED.
"LUCIEN!"
"GREMORY!"
"THE CRIMSON PRODIGY!"
Part V:
In the medical bay, Sona sat with her head in her hands while her peerage recovered around her.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I failed you all."
"Sona-sama, no—" Tsubaki started.
"I had a plan. Multiple strategies. Contingencies. And he dismantled them all in less than twenty minutes." She laughed bitterly. "Caelan-sensei was right. I was pathetically outmatched."
A knock on the door.
Lucien entered, still in his armor, looking apologetic.
"Sona-sama. That was an excellent match."
"Don't patronize me."
"I'm not." He sat down across from her. "Your tactics were sound. Your peerage was well-coordinated. But..." He hesitated.
"But I'm not strong enough," Sona finished. "I know. I've always known. I'm a tactician in a world that values raw power."
"That's not—"
"It is." She looked at him. "You're low Ultimate-class. You have the Power of Destruction mastered. Your Queen is a genius. Your Rook is a Dragon King. You have everything I don't."
Lucien was quiet for a moment.
"You remind me of someone," he said finally. "Someone who built an entire territory through intelligence and planning when everyone said he was worthless because he lacked power."
Sona looked up. "Caelan."
"My brother. Yes." Lucien smiled slightly. "He's proof that raw power isn't everything. You'll get there, Sona-sama. You just need time."
"And a miracle."
"Those happen more often than you think."
He stood to leave, then paused. "For what it's worth—you made me work harder than I expected. Not many people can say that."
He left.
Sona sat in silence for a moment.
Then smiled slightly.
It wasn't much.
But it was something.
Part VI:
"Seventeen minutes," Caelan observed. "Faster than my median prediction."
"Your brother is terrifying," Azazel said with genuine appreciation. "That level of control at his age is insane."
"He was trained by the Four Great Satans," Sirzechs said proudly. "And he's earned every bit of his reputation."
Kino tugged on Caelan's sleeve. "Papa, Uncle Lucien is really strong."
"Yes."
"Are you stronger?"
Everyone in the box went silent.
Caelan looked at his daughter—at those glacial blue eyes that held no guile, only genuine curiosity.
"I don't know," he admitted. "We've never fought."
"Maybe you should!" Kino said excitedly. "Then we'd know!"
"That's not how it works."
"Why not?"
"Because..." Caelan trailed off.
Because he was broken. Because his King piece was shattered. Because even if he wanted to fight his brother, he couldn't participate in Rating Games.
Because the world had decided long ago that Lucien was the prodigy and Caelan was the failure.
"It's complicated," he said finally.
Kino pouted but didn't push further.
Down in the arena, preparations were beginning for the next match.
Riser Phenex versus Diodora Astaroth.
This was going to be interesting.