The slums of the Underworld did not give birth to heroes; they bred scavengers, vermin, and corpses.
Far beneath the gleaming obsidian fortresses of Lucifaad and the pristine, majestic domains of ancient pure-blood Devil houses like Bael, Gremory, Sitri, and Phenex, the lowest gutters of the Underworld festered in perpetual, suffocating twilight. The air here was heavy, stagnant, and toxic—thick with the acrid stench of burning sulfur, soot, and the lingering iron tang of spilled blood. Above, the sky was a bruised, oppressive crimson, a constant, bleeding sky that reminded every low-born demon that God's light had never touched this dark expanse, and never would.
In a narrow, claustrophobic alleyway where acidic rain mixed with demonic ash dripped continuously from shattered stone eaves, a small, emaciated body lay collapsed against a crumbling masonry wall.
Mikhael opened his eyes.
A sharp, agonizing spasm surged through his throat and lungs, forcing a hoarse, ragged gasp from his dry lips. His chest heaved violently as he drew in the bitter, burning air. His vision swam with dizzying static—fractured memories of a blinding highway light, the horrific screech of tearing metal, and the sickening, wet crunch of bones in a previous life on Earth fading like morning mist over a frozen valley.
That human life was gone. Violent. Abrupt. Erased.
Now, he was here.
Mikhael pulled himself up against the damp, cold masonry, his small six-year-old frame trembling under its own meager weight. His skin was pale with a faint grayish, unhealthy hue, streaked with dark grime and dried mud. Beneath the tattered, filthy rags that barely hung across his shoulders, his ribs stood out like bird bones—malnourished, bruised, and pitifully frail. Yet, as he pressed a trembling, dirt-caked palm against his sternum, he felt it.
Thump. Thump.
It was not merely a heart beating. Deep within his bloodstream, a dark, volatile current thrummed with raw, unrefined energy—Maryoku, the innate demonic power of the Underworld. It was faint, unpolished, and dormant, but unmistakably real.
"I... died," Mikhael whispered. The rasp of his child-like voice startled him, echoing faintly against the wet stone walls before dissolving into the silent, oppressive alley.
Nearby, heavy boots stomped through the slush as two low-class demon guards marched past the mouth of the alley, their voices carrying through the damp stillness.
"Did you hear the news from the upper territory? Lord Sirzechs Lucifer and Lady Serafall Leviathan are consolidating their command over the new Four Satans," one guard grunted, his tone laced with a mix of awe and distant fear. "The pure-blood houses like Bael, Gremory, and Sitri are reorganizing their vassal territories post-Civil War. Up there, pure-blood heirs eat like kings, while down here in the gutters, we're left to choke on sulfur dust."
"Quiet, you fool!" the second guard snapped, brandishing an iron spear. "If a noble overseer hears you speaking the Satan names in vain, they'll turn your soul into raw ash before sunrise. Low-borns like us exist to serve, nothing more."
As their heavy footsteps faded into the fog, Mikhael's crimson irises narrowed in dark realization.
Lucifer... Serafall... Gremory... Sitri... Bael... The Four Satans and the Great Devil Civil War.
He was in the universe of High School DxD.
A cold, calculating stillness washed over his mind. He rapidly processed the information. The mention of Sirzechs and Serafall taking power post-Civil War meant he was currently situated roughly ten years before the canonical plot began. The main figures of the future story—Rias Gremory, Sona Sitri, Issei Hyoudou—were either young children or not yet born into their roles. Kuoh Town, the Rating Games, the Sacred Gear conflicts, and the war between factions were still a decade away.
Here, in the underbelly of the Underworld, there were no noble tutors, no Evil Pieces waiting to grant him instant status, and no inherited clan traits like the Bael's Power of Destruction or the Gremory's raw magic capacity. He was an unaffiliated, low-born demon child rotting in the slums.
Mikhael squeezed his eyes shut, trying to steady his erratic breathing. But as he sank deeper into the dark sanctuary of his mind to examine his soul core, the silence shattered.
"Look at you. Pathetic. Lying in the filthy gutter like a beaten animal," a voice boomed within his psyche. It was deep, majestic, and dripping with supreme, unchallenged authority—a regal presence that looked down upon the entire world as insignificant. "The pure-blood fools above strut through obsidian halls, boasting of bloodline talents they did nothing to earn. You carry a far greater fire within your soul, child. Rise and force them to kneel."
Before Mikhael could analyze the regal voice, a second presence hissed from the shadows of his mind—sharp, bitter, and coiled like a striking serpent, radiating intense, poisonous resentment.
"Why should they possess everything?" the bitter voice snarled, its words lacing his thoughts with toxic jealousy. "They inherit wealth, territory, and absolute authority simply by birth, while you starve in the dirt. It isn't fair. It has never been fair. Take what belongs to them. Strip their proud titles away and watch them choke on the same dust you breathe."
Immediately following the second, a third presence stirred—a vast, suffocating void of devouring appetite that seemed to salivate at the very concept of existence.
"Hunger..." the third voice rasped, its tone a low, ravenous growl. "So much magic... so much vitality flowing through this world. Why starve? Consume it all. Devour their spells, drain their bloodlines, and hollow out their power until nothing remains but your satisfaction."
Mikhael gripped his temples, a cold sweat breaking across his forehead as he felt the distinct weight of these three presences pressing against his consciousness. Yet, beneath these three active entities, he could feel four other heavy, slumbering presences sleeping in the deepest recesses of his soul core—a fiery, violent rage; a smooth, gold-lusting opportunist; a velvety, hypnotic allure; and a massive, tranquil ocean of lethargic, compressed potential.
Three awake, four sleeping. Seven entities in total.
"What are you?" Mikhael demanded in the silent space of his mind, his voice hard and analytical. He did not panic. He did not cry out. He maintained a guarded, observant posture.
The first presence—the regal authority—let out a low, dignified chuckle. "We are not intruders, child. We are the dormant seeds of your own soul, forged when your transmigrated essence crossed the Dimensional Gap and bound itself to the laws of this reality. We are desire given form."
"We are your strength," the bitter presence added, its green-tinged shadows flickering. "And your key to pulling down those who look down on you."
Mikhael did not naively accept their words. In a world like DxD, where stray devils, curse magic, and soul corruption were daily occurrences, uninvited voices promising power were often traps. He scrutinized the three active presences, evaluating their influence on his emotions.
"If you are part of my soul, then understand one thing," Mikhael declared, coldness cutting through his thoughts. "I do not care what grand titles or desires you represent. My body is my own. My mind is my own. I will not become a slave to bloodlust, jealousy, or blind hunger. You will serve my survival and my ambition, or you will remain locked in the dark. I set the rules."
The bitter presence hissed in annoyance, but the regal authority smiled—a dark, approving smirk that echoed in his mind.
"Spoken like a true sovereign. Prove you have the power to command us."
As the three presences receded into the background of his soul, a soft, crystalline chime rang directly inside Mikhael's auditory nerves. A translucent, glowing blue window materialized in the air before his eyes, invisible to the cold world around him.
[SYSTEM INTERFACE ACTIVATED]
Name: Mikhael
Race: Demon (Low-Class / Unaffiliated)
Age: 6
Level: 1
Experience: 0 / 100
[STATS]
Strength: 10 Intelligence: 10 Wisdom: 10 Durability: 10 Dexterity: 10 Agility: 10 Mana (Maryoku): 10,000 (+5% per Level)Health: 15,000 (+5% per Level)
[CORE ABILITIES]
Cloning: Chance-based replication; can duplicate objects or construct physical avatars for the Seven Sins. Amplifying: Active multiplier ability. Seamlessly multiplies ANY gains achieved by the user—including EXP gains, stat point yields from training, energy/stamina recovery rates, and item drop quality/quantity (2x–4x quality/stat increase; 5x–10x quantity/EXP increase)—requiring zero energy cost to activate, as its multipliers naturally balance its overwhelming utility. Record: Photographic memory & high-speed tactical scenario simulation via mental calculation. Pause: Time-manipulation space (creates an isolated domain with 100x time-deceleration for training, recovery, and strategic planning). Gluttony (Sin Drain): Consumes physical attacks, magic spells, and living energy/corpses; drains enemy power and analyzes magic formulas. Envy (Desire Control & Shapeshifting): Amplifies the internal desires of targets, controls opponents through emotional leverage, and enables physical shapeshifting. Lust (Charm & Magic Replication): Induces mental disorientation, charm manipulation, and enables rapid spell copying upon visual analysis. Sloth (Power Compression): Compresses raw energy to amplify physical output 10x–100x in single strikes; passively cultivates mana reserves during rest.
[SUB-SYSTEM: FATE GACHA]
Connection: Bound to the Root (Swirl of Akasha). Daily Invocations: 1 Free Roll per 24 hours.
Mikhael stared at the glowing blue text floating in the dim alleyway. His heart pounded with a mix of deep suspicion and profound gratitude.
Suspicion, because an RPG-style System interface was completely alien to the natural laws of High School DxD. Was it a mutant Longinus created by the God of the Bible? A soul-bound anomaly born from his transmigration across the Dimensional Gap? Or something far more dangerous?
Yet, alongside his suspicion was overwhelming gratitude. As a six-year-old low-born demon with a weak, malnourished body, no noble bloodline, and no hereditary magic, the System was his ultimate equalizer. It provided him with a structured path to grow from absolute zero into a force that could challenge high-tier beings.
"Let's verify reality first," Mikhael muttered. He wasn't going to trust text on a floating screen without physical confirmation.
He focused his attention on the [Fate Gacha] sub-system. A golden roulette wheel overlaid with ancient runic script flashed across his vision.
"Initiating Daily Free Invocation..." the System voice chimed softly.
The golden roulette spun rapidly, emitting a soft, ethereal light that warmed his cold hands. After three seconds, the wheel locked into place with a crisp chime.
[GACHA DRAW COMPLETE!]
Item Received:Kirei's Super-Spicy Mapo Tofu (Nasuverse Consumable) — A steaming, crimson-red bowl of intensely spicy Mapo Tofu. Restores 50% Health and boosts physical fire resistance by 15% for 1 hour. Passive Trait Obtained:[Auto-Replenishment (Demonic Power) E-Rank] — Originally a trait of the Avenger Class, adapted to DxD Maryoku rules. Accelerates passive Maryoku regeneration by 20% and gradually expands total mana capacity as the user deepens their alignment with desire.
A steaming ceramic bowl filled with fiery red Mapo Tofu materialized in his small hands, radiating genuine, mouth-watering heat and a rich, savory aroma. Mikhael blinked, looking down at the hot food in the freezing alleyway.
He picked up the spoon and took a bite. The intense, burning spice instantly exploded across his tongue, sending a wave of genuine warmth rushing down his throat and into his stomach. His exhausted, starved body drank in the nourishment, his health and stamina visibly stabilizing.
It's real, Mikhael confirmed, his eyes sharpening. The physical items and passive traits function flawlessly.
Next, he needed to test his core active abilities—specifically Gluttony (Sin Drain) and his key growth multiplier, Amplifying.
Mikhael leaned over and picked up a rusted, jagged iron spike lying in the gutter debris. He held it in his right palm and focused his mind on Gluttony.
Dark, swirling crimson energy enveloped his hand. A subtle suction force activated, pulling at the latent matter and residual environmental magic trapped inside the metal. The iron spike rapidly disintegrated into fine, gray dust between his fingers.
[SIN DRAIN ACTIVATED]
Absorbed: Residual Environmental Iron & Low-Grade Magic. Base Gains: +10 Stamina, +25 Maryoku, +2 EXP.
Mikhael felt a small trickle of energy flow into his bloodstream. Now came the crucial test. He focused on his active ability: Amplifying.
"Activate Amplifying," Mikhael commanded internally.
A brilliant, silver-blue aura wrapped around his arms and body. Unlike other abilities that demanded raw Maryoku, Amplifying required zero energy cost to invoke—its internal multipliers naturally balanced its overwhelming utility, seamlessly enhancing every gain he harvested.
Mikhael reached out and placed his hand against a second, larger rusted iron beam embedded in the stone wall. He activated Gluttony's Sin Drain while keeping Amplifying active.
The dark absorption energy flared twice as bright. The iron beam dissolved at three times the speed, completely turning to dust as a massive wave of heat rushed into Mikhael's core.
[AMPLIFYING ACTIVE — GAIN MULTIPLIER APPLIED!]
Amplification Factor: 3x Quality & Quantity Multiplier on All System Yields! Amplified Gains:Stamina Recovered: +10 → +30 StaminaMaryoku Absorbed: +25 → +75 MaryokuExperience Gained: +2 → +6 EXP(Experience Multiplied!)
A warm, invigorating rush of vitality poured through his veins. The fatigue in his muscles faded significantly faster, and his System experience bar visibly ticked forward (6 / 100 EXP).
Mikhael's heart pounded with dark excitement as he fully understood the power of Amplifying.
It was not merely an offensive strike booster—it was an all-encompassing growth engine. When activated during training, it multiplied his stat point yields. When activated during combat or absorption, it multiplied his EXP gains and energy recovery rates. When activated during item harvesting or skill practice, it multiplied the quality and quantity of everything he gained.
Because Amplifying operated without draining his Maryoku reserves, every resource he harvested, every quest reward he earned, and every experience point he gained would be directly multiplied, creating an unstoppable compound growth engine.
He sat back against the stone wall, analyzing the environment of the Underworld slums with sharp, tactical precision using Record.
The slums were governed by a brutal, informal hierarchy. Low-class demons, strays, and half-breeds organized into ruthlessly run gangs. Two major mid-tier gang leaders controlled this sector: Dregar, a brutal demon known for heavy-handed extortion, and Galgos, a cruel scavenger who preyed on weak slum children. Above them were high-class overseers sent by pure-blood houses to periodically collect tribute or dispose of trash.
Mikhael focused his gaze on a passing gang thug strolling past the alley entrance. The System's [Inspection] feature activated, but displayed limited information:
[TARGET INSPECTION]
Name: Dregar Gang Lackey Level: 12 Health: ??? / ??? Maryoku: ??? / ???
(Note: Detailed stats are hidden for targets more than 50 levels above the user or shrouded by high-grade warding).
Mikhael noted the limitation. He could not blindly attack targets without reconnaissance; the slums were full of veteran thugs who could easily crush a Level 1 child in a head-on collision.
Sitting in the dim alley, Mikhael formulated his 4-Phase Master Strategy for the coming days:
Phase 1: Safe Physical Conditioning via [Pause]
He would use his Pause ability to enter an isolated time-manipulation domain where time flowed 100x slower than the real world. Inside this space, he would complete his System Daily Quests (100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, 10 km run) without wasting real-world time or exposing himself to slum threats. By activating Amplifying upon quest completion, he would multiply the stat point rewards (+20 stat points base → multiplied by Amplifying). Phase 2: Shadow Hunting & EXP Farming
Using his heightened agility and small frame, he would stalk isolated gang lackeys and weakened strays in the dark alleys. By ambushing them with Gluttony (Sin Drain) and stacking Amplifying, he would rapidly harvest their life force and Maryoku, multiplying his EXP gains to level up at maximum speed. Phase 3: Avatar Infiltration via [Cloning]
Once his stats stabilized, he would use Cloning combined with Amplifying to manifest the physical avatar of Jin Sparrow (Greed). Jin would act as his external face in the slum markets and gang hubs—gathering intelligence, trading looted goods, and securing resources while Mikhael remained safely hidden in the shadows. Phase 4: Undetected Power Accumulation
He would build an untouchable foundation of strength, mastering his core abilities and accumulating stats before the noble demon houses or Satan overseers ever realized a Sovereign was rising in their gutters.
Mikhael closed his eyes, drawing a deep, steady breath. The sulfur smog, the cold rain, and the dark whispers of the sins surrounded him, but his mind was crystal clear.
In ten years, the canon story of High School DxD would begin. Angels, Devils, Fallen Angels, Dragons, and gods would collide in a war for the world.
When that day arrived, Mikhael would not be a pawn in anyone's game.
He leaned his head against the cold stone wall, a sharp, cold smirk cutting across his pale face as his crimson eyes glowed in the twilight.
"Let them keep their noble titles," Mikhael whispered to the dark alleyway. "I will build my throne from the shadows."
The oppressive atmosphere of the Underworld slums pressed down like a lead anvil. Every breath Mikhael drew tasted of ancient ash, calcified sulfur, and the foul runoff of demonic alchemy spilled from the upper districts. It was an environment designed to crush the weak and starve the powerless. In the human realm, society maintained laws, institutions, and moral illusions to shield the fragile from the predators. Here, no such pretense existed.
If you possessed bloodline magic—the crimson flames of the House of Gremory, the terrifying annihilative power of the House of Bael, or the temporal and ice mastery of the House of Sitri—you were hailed as a prodigy of the 72 Pillars. You were given tutors, enchanted armor, and private training grounds. If you were born a nameless, low-class demon in the gutters of Lucifaad, your life was valued less than the iron nails holding together the slum shanties.
Mikhael looked down at his small hands. The fingernails were cracked, stained with dark grease, and trembling slightly from low blood sugar. Yet beneath the weakness of his six-year-old mortal shell, his soul vibrated with an ancient, terrifying potential.
He examined his mental landscape again. The space within his subconscious resembled a vast, pitch-black cathedral without walls, suspended in an endless abyss. Floating within this dark expanse were seven monolithic pillars of crystal, each glowing with a distinct color corresponding to one of the Seven Sins.
The three active pillars—Pride, Envy, and Gluttony—pulsed with radiant, intense light, sending subtle waves of emotion directly into his conscious mind. Pride tried to instill an arrogant disdain for everything around him, urging him to look upon the gang thugs and noble overseers as mere insects awaiting his footstep. Envy whispered bitter, venomous thoughts, pointing out how unfair it was that pure-blood devils rested in luxury while he shivered in acid rain. Gluttony hummed with an unending, hollow ache, prompting him to devour every scrap of magical energy, flesh, and matter within reach.
Yet Mikhael's mind remained an impenetrable fortress. In his previous life on Earth, he had learned the hard way that emotion without control was a fatal liability. A hot-headed fighter was easy to bait; an envious strategist made foolish mistakes; a greedy predator fell into obvious traps.
"You can whisper all you want," Mikhael spoke aloud into the dark alley, his voice small but steady. "Your instincts are tools. Nothing more. I will draw upon your hunger when I need to consume, your envy when I need to identify what my enemies value, and your pride when I need to stand firm against high-class pressure. But the hand on the reins belongs to me."
Within his mind, the regal pillar of Pride flared brightly. The dark, dignified laughter echoed once more through his soul core.
"Wise words for a child rotting in rag garments," Pride murmured, his voice echoing with profound interest. "Remember them when you stand before the Satan thrones."
Mikhael turned his attention back to the glowing blue System interface floating before his eyes. The glowing text hovered silently, perfectly visible even through the thick sulfur smog.
He tapped mentally on the [STATS] tab, carefully analyzing every numerical value:
Strength: 10 — Representative of basic physical force. At 10, his six-year-old body was barely capable of lifting a heavy iron pipe. Intelligence: 10 — Governing cognitive processing speed, memory retention, and spell composition logic. Wisdom: 10 — Influencing mental fortitude, aura control, and resistance to mind-affecting magic. Durability: 10 — Determining physical toughness, bone density, and resistance to blunt force trauma. Dexterity: 10 — Controlling fine motor skills, hand-eye coordination, and weapon handling precision. Agility: 10 — Dictating movement speed, reflex speed, and acrobatic balance. Mana (Maryoku): 10,000 — The fundamental energy resource of the Underworld. Unlike a normal low-class demon child whose pool might hover around a few hundred units, Mikhael's transmigrated soul core provided him with a colossal starting reserve of 10,000 units, expanding by 5% with every level gained. Health: 15,000 — His vitality pool, scaling alongside his durability and level growth.
Next, he examined the [Fate Gacha] interface. The connection to the Root (Swirl of Akasha) was a staggering concept. In the Nasuverse lore, Akasha was the origin of all concepts, heroic spirits, noble phantasms, and mysteries. Having a direct pipeline to draw items, traits, and skills from that cosmic wellspring meant his arsenal would never be constrained by the local rules of the DxD universe alone.
"One free roll per twenty-four hours," Mikhael mused, eyeing the countdown timer ticking softly at the corner of the screen: [23:54:12 until next invocation]. "A daily gamble that costs nothing, offering passive traits and consumables that could bridge the gap between low-class physical weakness and high-class supernatural dominance."
He took another bite of Kirei's Super-Spicy Mapo Tofu. The fiery chili oil cleared his sinuses completely, and the passive trait [Auto-Replenishment (Demonic Power) E-Rank] worked quietly in the background. He could feel a faint, cool stream of Maryoku constantly trickling back into his bloodstream, replacing the small amount of energy he had expended testing Gluttony.
Now, his mind focused intensely on his primary growth engine: Amplifying.
In any RPG or supernatural progression system, raw numbers determined victory. If a normal demon trained for ten years to gain 100 stat points, they were bound by linear growth. But Amplifying broke linear scaling entirely.
Because Amplifying required zero Maryoku activation cost, it acted as a passive-active multiplier layer across his entire existence. Every time he earned experience points, Amplifying scaled the yield 5x to 10x. Every time he completed a System quest, the stat point rewards were multiplied 2x to 4x. Every time he consumed a corpse or item via Gluttony (Sin Drain), the recovered stamina and Maryoku were boosted threefold.
"This is exponential growth," Mikhael calculated, his crimson eyes gleaming with cold tactical excitement. "While the pure-blood heirs of Gremory and Bael rely on natural maturation and formal academy training over decades, I can compress years of conditioning into months using Pause and Amplifying."
He looked out toward the entrance of the alleyway. The rain was beginning to slacken, leaving behind a slick, greasy sheen on the stone pavement. The distant sounds of the slum sector were growing louder—shouted curses, the clashing of iron blades in distant alleys, and the heavy thud of gang enforcers collecting their daily taxes from starving merchants.
It was time to begin Phase 1.
Mikhael closed his eyes and focused on his core ability: [Pause].
"Domain Activation: Pause," he commanded mentally.
The air around him suddenly froze. The falling droplets of acidic rain stopped mid-air, hanging suspended like tiny glass beads. The distant shouts of the gang thugs instantly cut out, replaced by a deep, dead silence. The crimson sky above dimmed into a static, monochrome hue.
Mikhael stepped out from the wall. The time-manipulation domain was active. Inside this isolated space, time moved 100x slower than the external Underworld. For every one hundred minutes he spent training, resting, or planning inside Pause, only one minute would pass in the real world.
A new blue window flashed before his eyes:
[DAILY QUEST AVAILABLE: BASIC PHYSICAL CONDITIONING]
Objective: 100 Push-ups 100 Sit-ups 100 Squats 10 km Run Base Rewards: +20 Free Stat Points, Full Health Recovery. Amplifying Integration: Available upon completion!
Mikhael looked down at his small, malnourished arms. 100 push-ups, sit-ups, squats, and a 10 km run would be a grueling challenge for a frail six-year-old body. But inside Pause, he had all the time in the world. And with the stamina boost from Mapo Tofu and Auto-Replenishment, he had no excuses.
He dropped down onto the damp stone floor of the alleyway, placed his palms flat against the cold ground, and began his first repetition.
"One," Mikhael grunted.
The journey of the Sovereign of Desire had officially begun.