Sirzechs Lucifer stood before an enormous magical display, his hands clasped behind his back in a pose that was meant to project calm authority.
It wasn't working.
His foot tapped against the floor in an unconscious rhythm. His power flickered faintly around his fingertips, responding to emotions he was trying very hard to suppress. And despite his best efforts to maintain a neutral expression, his green eyes betrayed every ounce of worry churning in his chest.
"Sirzechs-sama." Grayfia's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. "You're going to wear a hole in the carpet."
He stopped pacing, only then realizing he'd been moving at all. "I'm fine."
"Of course you are," Grayfia said, and he could hear the faint amusement in her tone. She stood near the display, her silver hair catching the magical light, looking far more composed than he felt. "Just as you were 'fine' when Rias took her first steps. And when she started school. And when she formed her peerage."
The magical display showed the Rating Game battlefield in perfect detail. A replica of Kuoh Academy where his little sister was about to fight for her freedom.
"This is different," Sirzechs said, resuming his pacing despite her comment. "This is a Rating Game. Against Riser Phenex. If she loses..."
"She'll be engaged to marry him, yes," Grayfia finished. "As was already arranged by your parents. This Rating Game was her choice, Sirzechs-sama. You must respect that."
He knew she was right. Logically, intellectually, he understood that Rias had chosen this path.
But logic didn't ease the protective instincts of an older brother watching his sister walk into danger.
"I should have done more," he muttered. "Should have found a way to cancel the engagement without it coming to this."
"You're one of the Four Great Satans," Grayfia reminded him gently. "The political situation was complicated, and any direct intervention would have caused more problems than it solved."
She paused, then continued, "Besides, Rias-sama isn't a child anymore. She's grown considerably over the past month."
Sirzechs looked at the display. "I know. I just..."
"You want to protect her," Grayfia finished. "As any good brother would. But sometimes protection means trusting someone to fight their own battles."
"Do you really think she can win?" His voice came out quieter than he intended.
Grayfia smiled, confident and sure. "Yes."
Sirzechs felt something ease in his chest. That simple certainty from her meant everything. Grayfia was like that. He was glad she was his Queen. Sirzechs excelled at most things, but when it came to his sister, he became clumsy and worried like any ordinary brother.
A soft chime interrupted the tension. A communication spell requesting his attention.
"Ignore it," Sirzechs said immediately.
"Sirzechs-sama." Grayfia's voice carried gentle reproach. "It might be important. The peace talks are in three days."
The peace talks. Right.
With considerable effort, Sirzechs pulled his attention away from the Rating Game display and activated the communication spell. The image of Azazel, Governor of the Fallen Angels, materialized in the air.
"Sirzechs!" Azazel's casual tone was somehow both irritating and reassuring. "How's the game going? Heard your sister's fighting for her freedom today."
"It just started," Sirzechs said, his voice more clipped than usual. "Was there something you needed, Azazel?"
"Just confirming the final security arrangements for the peace talks," Azazel said, though his golden eyes sparkled with amusement. "But I can see you're distracted. Want me to call back?"
"No, we should discuss this now." Sirzechs forced the words out, though part of him screamed to keep watching Rias's match. He gestured, and another display materialized showing documents and security protocols. "Grayfia, could you...?"
"I'll monitor the Rating Game," Grayfia said immediately, understanding what he needed. "If anything significant happens, I'll inform you right away."
"Thank you," Sirzechs said quietly, then turned his full attention to Azazel's projection. "Alright. Let's review the security arrangements."
"The church sent representatives to coordinate security on Heaven's behalf. I believe they met with Leon earlier today already."
Sirzechs nodded.
"What about threats to the peace talks themselves? Any intelligence on parties that might try to disrupt them?"
"The usual suspects." Azazel shrugged. "Old Maou faction might make noise. Some extremist angels who think we're betraying Heaven's principles. Fallen angels who preferred the status quo. But nothing concrete yet."
"That's what worries me," Sirzechs said, frowning. "The silence. It feels like..."
"Sirzechs-sama." Grayfia's voice cut through, urgent and sharp. "You need to see this."
He spun back to the Rating Game display immediately, Azazel's projection following his gaze.
On the screen, Riser's three Pawns had just made contact with Rias's forces.
And what happened next made even Sirzechs Lucifer's eyes widen in surprise.
The battle was over in seconds.
Only Rias's Knight moved. Kiba was his name. In a single strike, all three of Riser's Pawns were defeated instantly.
Sona's voice echoed across the battlefield, cool and professional.
"Riser Phenex's Pawns... Mira, Ile, and Nel... have been eliminated."
On the display, they could see Riser in the principal's office, frozen in shock, his wine glass forgotten in his hand.
Sirzechs felt something unknot in his chest. Pride, relief, vindication all mixed together.
"Well," Azazel said, his voice carrying clear amusement. "I think your sister just sent a message."
Grayfia's expression held quiet satisfaction. "I told you..."
Sirzechs couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. "She's not a child anymore, is she?"
"No," Grayfia agreed softly. "She's not."
"Looks like the peace talks might have some interesting spectators," Azazel said.
"We should continue our security review," Sirzechs said, though his eyes remained fixed on the Rating Game display. "But Grayfia, keep monitoring the match."
"Of course, Sirzechs-sama."
As Azazel launched into details about guard rotations and barrier protocols, Sirzechs found his attention split between duty and brotherly concern.
"One more thing," Azazel said, pulling Sirzechs's full attention back. "I've heard rumors about disturbances in Kyoto."
Sirzechs frowned. "During the peace talks? That's concerning timing."
"Very concerning," Azazel agreed, his tone growing serious. "I'm sending some people to investigate."
They exchanged a look of understanding. The peace talks were crucial. Centuries of war potentially ending in a treaty. But that made them a target for anyone who benefited from the continued conflict.
Sirzechs nodded. "Let me know what you find."
Azazel laughed, the sound rich and unbothered. "Of course. Now go watch your sister kick Phenex's ass. I know you want to."
"The security arrangements..."
"Will still be there in an hour," Azazel finished. "Besides, I'm curious to see how this plays out. I've got money riding on this match."
"You bet on my sister's Rating Game?"
"Of course I did. Fifteen-to-one odds against her. I couldn't resist."
Azazel grinned. "I put down a fortune."
"You're incorrigible."
"I prefer 'opportunistic,'" Azazel said cheerfully. "Now shut up and let me watch. Your sister's about to make me very rich."
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Kiba POV
"Kiba. I trust that you can handle them?"
Rias's faith in him never wavered. It was one of the things he cherished most about serving her. That absolute trust. That certainty in his abilities.
"Of course, Rias-sama."
I won't let you down. Not now. Not ever.
He stepped into the hallway, He felt them before he heard them. The enemy always announced themselves somehow. In their footsteps. In their breathing. In the careless way they spoke when they thought themselves safe.
Training under Yoriichi Tsugikuni. Dying. Over and over again. Getting killed in a hundred different ways, each death teaching him something new about his limits, about his weaknesses, about the gaps in his technique that he'd never even known existed.
Tsugikuni-sensei had cut him down in less than a breath. Kiba hadn't even seen the blade move. One moment he was alive, the next he was staring at his own body from above, understanding with cold clarity just how far he had to go.
Each death had been a lesson. Each revival had been a chance to learn. His instincts, which he'd thought were already sharp, had been honed to something beyond what he'd originally possessed. His swordsmanship, which he'd been proud of, had been refined into something approaching art.
Kiba couldn't help but smile at the memory. It should have been traumatic. It should have broken him. But instead, it had forged him into something stronger. Something better.
"Do you think they're really here?"
"Lord Riser said to check this building."
"I still think this is a waste of time. Rias Gremory doesn't stand a chance."
The words hit something deep in Kiba's chest.
Anger
How dare they dismiss Rias-sama so casually? How dare they think her beneath them?
I'll show them exactly how wrong they are.
He turned the corner, and there they were. Three girls in matching uniforms, flames dancing around their hands. Pretty. Young. Confident in their numbers.
They saw him. Recognition flickered across their faces.
"Only one?" The tall one recovered first. "Lord Riser warned us about the Knight. Don't underestimate him."
"He's just one person. We're three. We can take him."
You really believe that, don't you?
Kiba smiled. Polite. Gentle. The smile he always wore before battle. "I appreciate your confidence. Unfortunately for you, numbers don't always matter."
Let me show you what happens when you underestimate Rias Gremory's Knight.
Sword Birth activated. The hallway transformed. His will made manifest. Steel blooming from nothing, surrounding them, trapping them. He watched their confidence crumble into fear. Watched them realize their mistake.
This is for Rias-sama. This is for everyone who ever thought she wasn't worth believing in.
Then he moved, and thought became action.
Three opponents. Three heartbeats. Three victories.
When it was over and Sona's voice announced their defeat, Kiba stood alone in the quiet hallway. His breathing was steady. His hands were clean. His conscience was clear.
Rias-sama, I hope this pleases you.
He turned back, already thinking of the next battle, the next challenge, the next opportunity to prove his King's worth.
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