"Odin-sama, Sirzechs-sama."
"Yo, Azazel!"
Summoned by message, Tenra stepped into the room, greeting the trio inside.
The first two took it in stride, but Azazel's mouth twitched, a flicker of indignation in his eyes.
This brat calls Sirzechs and old man Odin with full honorifics, but I'm just "Azazel" now? Seriously?!
"Tenra-kun, sorry to drag you here at a time like this, but we've got something important to ask." Sirzechs gestured for Tenra to sit.
"Of course, Sirzechs-sama." Tenra nodded, though he didn't commit to anything just yet.
"You're already aware of the attack on Odin-sama. When Loki retreated, he threatened to crash the upcoming summit of the gods. This meeting is crucial—if it goes well, the Norse pantheon can finally establish relations with the Eastern gods. We can't let Loki sabotage it."
Tenra remembered Odin mentioning this before—Sirzechs and Michael had helped arrange a summit with the local pantheon, and Tenra himself was invited.
"So, what exactly do you want me to do, Sirzechs-sama?"
He had a hunch, but clung to a shred of hope.
Azazel clapped Tenra's shoulder with a laugh. "We want you to keep Loki busy during the summit. Make sure he doesn't mess up the talks."
Tenra's face fell. He'd seen this coming, but hearing it out loud still soured his mood.
"I've heard Loki's a handful, but aren't there plenty of heavy hitters among devils and fallen angels? Why me?"
Sirzechs gave a diplomatic smile. "True, we have people who could restrain Loki, but with the Hero Faction running wild, everyone's tied up. You're the only one we can count on."
"Even so, I've got my own issues…" Tenra grumbled. Loki was bad enough, but then there was Fenrir—the magic wolf, even more dangerous. Who knew what other monsters Loki might bring? Tenra wanted no part of this mess.
It was risky, and for what? Loki wasn't his enemy. Even if Tenra beat him, what did he get? Nothing worth the trouble.
The three leaders exchanged knowing glances, clearly amused by Tenra's mercenary logic.
"Tenra-kun, you…" Sirzechs shook his head, then let his smile fade.
"After the Old Satan Faction incident, all of Diodora's peerage disappeared. You hid them, didn't you?"
Tenra winced. "Well… they're my spoils of war. I have the right to do as I please, don't I?"
Why bring this up now? His stomach twisted.
He could try to bluff, but lying to these old foxes was pointless. He could only admit it.
"Given your achievements, it's fine for you to keep Diodora's peerage. But according to Underworld law, the Evil Pieces inside them are valuable assets—they need to be reclaimed."
Sirzechs nodded, a glint of amusement in his eyes.
Tenra sighed. "Just say what you want, Sirzechs-sama."
He knew his brother-in-law's real target wasn't Seraselbes and the others, nor the Evil Pieces. Might as well lay his cards on the table.
"Then I'll be direct. You've noticed, haven't you? Those girls can't use their Pieces to boost their abilities."
"Yeah. Their original King's dead, so the Pieces stopped working."
Seraselbes and her group had lost a lot of power after the pieces went dormant. Tenra found it a shame.
"Each set of Evil Pieces must be registered to a King at the Chess Monument in Maou Territory to function. If the King dies, the Pieces deactivate—it's a safeguard against stealing peerages by killing the King."
Sirzechs's tone turned businesslike. "If you help restrain Loki and keep the summit on track, I'll register that set of Pieces under your name. They'll become your peerage."
Tenra's eyes sparkled. That was a tempting offer.
"One King can have multiple peerages?" he asked, mind already racing.
If so, maybe he could collect more sets in the future!
Sirzechs chuckled. "Don't get greedy, Tenra-kun. This is an exception among exceptions."
"And even if I register those Pieces for you, that peerage is strictly your private force. For Rating Games or official matches, you can only use your original peerage."
He'd seen right through Tenra's ambitions.
Tenra felt a twinge of disappointment, but having another peerage was still a big deal. As far as he knew, no one else had managed it.
"Alright, Sirzechs-sama. I'll help out—but…" Tenra turned to Azazel, a sly grin spreading across his face.
"Azazel, I want something from you too."
"Why me?!"
Azazel gaped, then scowled.
"You're here, aren't you? No goodies, no deal!" Tenra shot back, all shameless bravado.
If they wanted him risking life and limb, he'd be a fool not to squeeze out every benefit he could.
Sirzechs coughed lightly. "Azazel, you should contribute something."
Odin thumped Azazel's back, his expression saying, Your problem, not ours.
Azazel's eye twitched. These two were going to be the death of him.
"Running into you is my bad luck, brat. Here—take it!" Azazel grumbled, tossing Tenra an object shaped like a scepter.
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