Chapter 2: The Bishop's Gambit
The moonlight over the Gremory estate was a pale, haunting violet. It was the kind of night that invited introspection, or in Lucian's case, a desperate need to figure out if he was going to explode.
Lucian stood in the center of the training clearing, his breath hitching in the cool air. He closed his eyes, reaching inward. In his previous life, "energy" was something you got from a caffeinated drink. Here, it was a literal tide surging beneath his ribs.
Focus. Don't think about the void. Think about the flow.
He extended his hand. Slowly, a circle of standard Gremory mana formed—a stable, crimson crest. It didn't flicker. It didn't drain him. He could hold this all night.
"Okay, the basics are fine," he muttered. "Now for the 'Doomsday' button."
He shifted his intent. The crimson light darkened, turning into a jagged, hungry purple. The air around his hand began to scream as the Power of Destruction manifested. It wasn't a sphere yet—just a coating of erasure energy.
One... five... ten...
At fifteen seconds, his arm began to tremble. At twenty, a sharp spike of migraine-tier pain shot through his temples. At twenty-eight, his knees buckled. He cut the flow immediately, the purple sparks dissipating into nothing.
"Thirty seconds," Lucian panted, wiping sweat from his chin. "Thirty seconds of being a god, followed by a lifetime of being a rug."
It was a clear sign. In the DxD world, relying on a glass-cannon move was a death sentence. He had to prioritize his eyes—the copy ability. If he could mimic the efficiency of others, he wouldn't need to nuke every problem.
He straightened up, focusing on his back. With a sharp rip of displaced air, two black, leathery wings unfurled. They felt like a new limb, instinctive and heavy. He flapped them once, lifting a few inches off the ground, before folding them back with a satisfied nod.
"Step one: Don't die. Step two: Don't be useless. Let's see if I can manage both."
The Departure
Saturday morning arrived with the kind of fanfare only the Gremory family could muster. Lucian was throwing the last of his essentials into a leather trunk when a shadow fell across the doorway.
Sirzechs stood there, leaning against the frame with a deceptive casualness. The crimson-haired Satan wasn't wearing his formal robes, but his presence still filled the room like a physical weight.
"Packing light?" Sirzechs asked. "I suppose you won't need much. Rias is quite the provider."
Lucian paused. "Rias? I thought I was just being sent to Kuoh for 'rehabilitative training' or something equally vague."
"Oh, did I forget to mention?" Sirzechs flashed a smile that was far too bright to be sincere. "As of this morning, you've been officially assigned to her mission. You were technically born for this role, Lucian. A Gremory's branch exists to support the trunk."
Lucian felt a twitch in his eyebrow. Born for it? Translation: I was a backup plan since the crib. This world's bureaucracy is terrifying.
"As my Great Uncle says," Lucian replied, bowing with exaggerated grace, "this junior listens and obeys."
The air in the room chilled by exactly three degrees. Sirzechs's smile didn't falter, but his eyes narrowed. "Uncle? Lucian, we've discussed this. I'm not that much older than you in Devil years."
"Of course, Uncle. My apologies, Uncle," Lucian said, his voice dripping with mock-sincerity. He knew he was playing with fire, but the look of mild irritation on the face of the strongest being in the Underworld was worth the risk.
Rias appeared in the hallway, her luggage already enchanted and hovering. "Lucian? Are you ready? The transport is waiting."
She noticed the tension. "Brother? What are you doing here?"
Sirzechs turned to her, his expression shifting to one of doting concern. "Just checking on our cousin. Tell me, Rias... when did you two get on a first-name basis? I remember you calling him 'The Quiet One' only a few years ago."
Lucian watched the exchange, a realization hitting him. Is the Great Satan... actually petty? He's jealous over his sister's social circle.
"We grew up in the same house, Sirzechs," Rias said, rolling her eyes. "Don't be weird."
Lucian saw an opening. He moved toward Rias, stumbling slightly on purpose. "Ah, the exhaustion... the training last night..."
Before he could hit the floor, Rias caught him by the shoulders, her face flushing with concern. "You idiot! I told you not to overexert yourself! Honestly, Lucian, you're so careless."
Lucian leaned into the support, catching Sirzechs's gaze over Rias's shoulder. He gave the Satan a slow, deliberate wink.
Sirzechs's hand visibly tightened on the doorframe. "Rias, dear... why don't you wait by the carriage for a moment? I need a final word with our 'fragile' cousin."
Rias blinked, looked between them, and sighed. "Fine. One minute. Don't be late, Lucian."
As the door clicked shut, the playful atmosphere vanished. Sirzechs didn't move, but the sheer pressure of his aura made the floorboards groan. He pushed his hair back, looking at Lucian with a gaze that could melt lead.
"Listen closely, Lucian," Sirzechs said, his voice a low, dangerous silk. "You have my face. You have my hair. You even have a fraction of my power. But if you think you're going to use that charm to 'play' with my sister in Kuoh... do you have any idea what the 'Power of Destruction' actually feels like when it's directed at a person?"
Lucian broke into a cold sweat. The "Uncle" jokes felt very far away now. "Crystal clear, Big Brother. I'm just the Bishop. A loyal servant of the household."
Sirzechs patted Lucian's shoulder, the pressure returning to a friendly—yet crushing—level. "Good. I'm glad we understand each other. Now, go. Don't keep her waiting."
The Final Farewell
At the main gates, Zeoticus and Venelana stood to see them off. The farewell was brief, as per Gremory tradition—dignified but firm.
"This nephew is departing," Lucian said, bowing low to the heads of the house.
"Remember what we taught you," Zeoticus warned. "Master the control before you seek the power. Don't bring shame to the name by burning down the school on your first day."
Venelana stepped forward, placing a hand on Lucian's cheek. "You have potential, Lucian. Use your head more than your heart. Safe travels."
With a final nod, Lucian followed Rias through the shimmering blue teleportation circle.
The Journey Up
The transition between realms felt like being pulled through a straw, followed by the sudden, sharp scent of rain and city asphalt. They were in a private carriage, moving through the dimensional corridor toward the human world.
Rias sat across from him, looking over a folder of student records.
"So," Lucian started, breaking the silence. "I'm officially your Bishop now. Why that piece? I figured I'd be a Knight, given the... well, the destructive tendencies."
Rias didn't look up from her papers. "A Knight is a blunt instrument, Lucian. A Bishop is about efficiency. You have the raw power, but you lack the endurance. The Bishop piece helps stabilize your magic output. It forces you to think about technique over brute force."
Lucian leaned back. So she noticed. She's smarter than she lets on. "Fair enough. And this 'club' of yours? The Occult Research Club? Sounds a bit... on the nose for a group of Devils."
"It's the perfect cover," Rias replied. "And you'll be expected to participate. We have a reputation to maintain at Kuoh Academy."
Lucian put on his most charming, slightly mischievous grin. "I'll try my best to be a model student. Tell me, though... does the club have any other members? Any... particularly striking women I should prepare my manners for?"
Rias finally looked up, her blue eyes narrowing. "There is Akeno, my Queen. She is... unique. Why? Planning on being a flirt already?"
"Just doing my due diligence," Lucian said smoothly. "I wouldn't want to accidentally offend a high-ranking member of your peerage."
"I trust you, Lucian," Rias said, though her tone suggested the opposite. "But keep your eyes on the mission. Kuoh is a delicate territory."
"You can trust me absolutely," Lucian said, his voice dropping into a sincere register.
Rias stared at him for a long beat before huffing and turning back to her files. "That's exactly why I'm worried. Just... try not to make me regret this by the end of the week."
Lucian watched the swirling colors of the rift outside. He had a petty Satan as an uncle, a suspicious heiress as a King, and a power that could knock him out in thirty seconds.
Welcome to the main plot, Lucian, he thought. Try not to get erased.