"Rias, are you ready yet?"
Tenra stifled a yawn as he called out, impatience clear in his voice. At last, Rias and the girls emerged from their room, every one of them dressed to impress.
"Well, Tenra? How do we look?"
Rias ran a hand through her flaming red hair, her smile dazzling.
She was a vision—born beautiful, now radiant in formal attire. And she wasn't alone: Akeno, Irina, and the others had all chosen gowns that suited them perfectly, each one more stunning than the last. Tenra's heart thudded in his chest, and he felt a familiar restlessness stir.
"Fantastic… really, you all look incredible."
Rias caught the hungry look in his eyes and let out a satisfied hum, looping her arm through his.
"Come on, the banquet's about to start."
Training was over, and they'd returned to the Gremory estate. Tomorrow, Rias and Sona would finally face off. According to Sirzechs, the upcoming summit of the major mythological factions had provided a perfect excuse to invite a big name from Norse mythology to witness the match. Tonight's banquet was in that honor.
They stepped through the teleportation circle and arrived at a luxury hotel tucked deep in the forests of Gremory territory. Staff ushered them inside, where they immediately ran into Azazel's group.
"Tenra-sama! Everyone!"
Gasper, who'd been standing beside Azazel, burst into tears the moment he saw Tenra and the girls. He wailed and sprinted toward Tenra, arms outstretched.
Tenra felt a chill run down his spine. This brat would never shake his weird pseudo-maiden habits. Without hesitation, Tenra kicked Gasper away.
Gasper tumbled across the floor, but popped right back up, crawling over to latch onto Tenra's leg, sobbing like his life depended on it.
"Hey, Azazel, I asked you to train Gasper, not traumatize him. You didn't abuse the kid, did you?"
Tenra shot Azazel a look, watching as Aisha and the other girls tried to comfort the sniffling Gasper.
Azazel raised his hands, feigning innocence. "Don't blame me, kid. I've been giving it my all. You can sense it yourself—Gasper's aura."
Tenra focused, then nodded. Gasper's aura was stronger, more stable. Clearly, Azazel's training had paid off.
"Sona."
Tenra greeted Sona Sitri, who'd arrived with Azazel. She must've taken his advice and trained under the Governor. But when Tenra smiled at her, Sona only glanced at him coolly, refusing to answer.
"Rias, tomorrow's our big day. Are you ready?"
Sona's gaze shifted to Rias, her tone sharp.
"Shouldn't you be asking yourself that, Sona? Don't cry when you lose."
Rias replied with a sweet, dangerous smile. The air between them crackled with rivalry.
"Hmph. Let's see who's smiling at the end."
Sona turned on her heel, leading her peerage into the banquet hall.
"Rias…"
Tenra started to say something, but Rias shot him a glare that could freeze lava. Without a word, she and the other girls walked in, leaving Tenra behind.
He stood there, dumbfounded. He hadn't done anything wrong—so why was he suddenly persona non grata? He could almost hear imaginary crows cawing overhead.
Azazel clapped him on the shoulder, grinning like a seasoned veteran. "Well, kid, looks like your luck finally ran out."
"That's the thing about young men—greed leads straight to the battlefield of love. And trust me, a harem war is scarier than any battle between gods and devils."
Tenra shot him a look. "Anyone else can lecture me—just not you, old man."
Azazel laughed. "Fair enough. But hey, I've got plenty of tricks up my sleeve. Want me to teach you a few?"
"I'll pass. I can handle this myself."
"My, my. So cold…"
—
Inside the banquet hall, Tenra sat alone in a corner, chewing absently on a straw. Ever since Sona showed up, Rias and the girls had given him the silent treatment, as if they'd all agreed to freeze him out. Even Yubelluna and her group had been whisked away by Ravel, that little traitor.
Definitely Rias and Akeno's idea. Just wait—he'd get his revenge later. The poor, isolated Tenra nursed his grudge in silence.
Suddenly, a commotion at the entrance.
"Long time no see, you old country geezer from the north."
"Long time no see, you little Fallen Angel brat."
"Welcome, Odin-sama, chief god of the Norse pantheon."
"Oh, Sirzechs. I came as invited to watch the match. Sounds like you've had your hands full lately—being Maou isn't easy, is it?"
Azazel, Sirzechs, Serafall, and others entered, escorting an elderly man. He was unmistakable: one-eyed, robed, sporting an ancient hat, and a white beard that nearly brushed the floor.
Tenra's expression grew serious. This was Odin, the God-King of Norse legend.
But he didn't quite match the image from the stories. The moment he entered, Odin's lone eye scanned the hall, lingering with suspicious interest on every pretty girl in sight.
Tenra couldn't help but grin. What a character—an unabashed old lecher.
Of course, Sirzechs and the others noticed, but could only pretend not to see. Odin's Valkyrie bodyguard, though, had had enough.
"Odin-sama, please show some restraint! Valhalla's reputation is in tears!"
Odin stroked his beard, utterly unfazed. "You're too uptight, that's your problem. No wonder you haven't caught a single hero."
Apparently this wasn't the first time. The Valkyrie's eyes filled with tears, and to everyone's shock, she burst out sobbing.
"Waaah… I'm just a Valkyrie whose single years equal her age! It's not my fault—I want a boyfriend too! Waaaah…"
She was supposed to be the embodiment of strength and beauty. Was it really okay for a Valkyrie to cry like this?
The whole hall froze in awkward silence. But Tenra felt the worst of it.
Hey, Valkyrie-san, cry if you must—but do you have to do it right in front of me? Don't make it look like I'm the one who bullied you!
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