"Nii-sama!" Rias sprinted across the ruined courtyard with her peerage close behind, worry written across her face.
Sirzechs turned, calm as ever despite the chaos around them. "Rias. This place is dangerous. You should take refuge."
"No!" Rias shook her head fiercely. "We can help! Let us fight him!"
"I agree." Sona stepped forward, eyes determined. "I don't want to stand by and watch when we're all in danger."
"Sona-chan…" Serafall's lips curved in a proud, almost teary smile at her sister's courage.
Sirzechs, however, sighed. "Your peerages are still injured from the last battle. How do you plan to fight him in that condition?"
"I—" Rias hesitated, biting her lip. Sona also faltered, realizing the truth.
Then, suddenly, a warm sunlit aura swept over them. Golden light spilled like water across the courtyard, gentle yet overwhelming in presence.
Everyone gasped as wounds began to knit and torn clothes mended themselves.
"This is… my wounds—they're gone!" Issei blinked in disbelief.
"Us too!" Sona's peerage exchanged stunned looks as their strength returned.
A figure stood at the edge of the glow, smiling faintly.
Satria.
"Now you can fight again," he said casually, hands in his pockets. "Show me something decent, you brats."
"Brats?!" Rias puffed her cheeks, glaring. "You're younger than me!"
Amaterasu stepped closer, eyes sharp with curiosity. "That power… healing entire peerages at once with the power of sun. Tell me, boy—how did you do it?"
Satria tilted his head playfully. "Sure~ Call me sensei, and maybe I'll consider telling you."
"You wish!" Amaterasu's beautiful face twisted in restrained irritation. "You want the leader of a pantheon to bow to a human child? Don't push your luck, brat."
Satria shrugged with mock innocence. "Your loss."
"Danna-sama, please don't anger her…" Kiyohime smiled sweetly as she stepped between them, bowing politely. "Forgive him, Amaterasu-sama. He means no harm, he's just… mischievous."
Amaterasu looked seconds away from combusting, but said nothing further.
"We thank you for healing our sisters' peerages, Shin-kun." Serafall smiled warmly at Satria. "We'll be sure to reward you later."
"Sure." Satria nodded like it was nothing.
Azazel stepped forward, clapping once to gather everyone's focus. "Alright, youngsters. You've got your strength back. Show us the results of your training and hold Loki down until Thor's hammer arrives."
"Yes!" Rias and Sona's peerages answered in unison, fire returning to their eyes.
"Rossweisse, go with them," Odin ordered.
"Understood." Rossweisse adjusted her glasses and joined the charge.
"Irina, help as well," Michael said calmly.
"Yes! Finally my turn!" Irina cheered, wings flaring with light.
Satria glanced toward the leaders. "You're not helping?"
Sirzechs chuckled quietly. "No. This is a good chance for them to grow. They can't always depend on us. And besides, you already healed them. We're grateful."
Azazel grinned, crossing his arms. "We'll step in if it turns bad. For now, let's see what the brats can do."
•
Loki's crimson eyes narrowed, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. "What is this? Sending mere brats to fight me? Are they mocking me?"
Rossweisse stepped forward, sword raised. Her voice rang with conviction despite the trembling in her hands. "Loki-sama! For attacking Father Odin, you've gone beyond forgiveness. I won't allow it!"
Loki's laugh echoed like ice breaking. "Oh? Odin's Valkyrie. I've heard whispers of your talent. But talent is dust before divinity. My power is on a level far beyond yours."
"Tch… still unwilling to change your mind, huh?" Rossweisse muttered, bracing herself.
Loki snapped his fingers. "You gnats are not worth my time alone. Come forth—Fenrir! Hati! Sköll!"
A chorus of roars split the battlefield.
The air shook as colossal shapes emerged: a golden dragon, scales burning like fire; Fenrir, the monstrous wolf with jaws wide enough to swallow the sky; his bloodthirsty children Hati and Sköll.
Then the ground trembled. A serpent larger than castles slithered from the rift, eyes glowing green with malice. "Jörmungandr—the Midgard Serpent replica," Rias whispered, face pale. "All of them… legendary monsters."
"Not the true serpent," Rossweisse snapped quickly. "A replica! Don't be afraid—it's powerful, but not invincible!"
"Balance Breaker!!" Issei's crimson armor flared as he launched forward, but Fenrir's fangs came first. With a bone-crunching impact, the wolf hurled him aside like a toy.
"Issei!" Xenovia and Kiba darted in, blades flashing.
"Durandal!" Xenovia's holy sword carved a blazing arc.
"Take this—Sword Birth!" Kiba's conjured blade skewered Fenrir, driving the wolf back with a roar.
On the flank, Irina's wings of light unfurled in a brilliant display. She struck at Hati and Sköll, forcing the wolf-children to dodge.
"Huh?! Irina?! You're an Angel now?!" Xenovia gawked mid-swing.
Irina winked. "Hehehe, looks good on me, right?"
"Pfft—she hasn't changed one bit," Issei wheezed, managing a chuckle despite his bruises.
Meanwhile, Rias, Sona, Akeno, and Tsubaki faced down the massive serpent. The replica's throat glowed as fire built inside.
"Now, Tsubaki!" Sona shouted.
"—Alice Mirror!" Tsubaki's Sacred Gear unfolded, reflecting the serpent's hellfire back upon its own body. The beast shrieked as flames scorched its scales, though its bulk remained terrifying.
"Crimson Extinction Wave!" Rias unleashed her Power of Destruction, while Sona's water-magic followed—yet both attacks barely scratched the serpent.
On the other side, Saji lunged at Loki, chains of Absorption Line snapping forward. "Got you! I'll drain you dry!"
Loki let him hold for a moment—then snarled. His magic surged, overwhelming the Sacred Gear.
"You brat are really annoying!" A burst of power sent Saji flying. "Freeze in despair!"
A blizzard of snow and storm magic erupted, engulfing the battlefield. Rias and her allies shielded themselves behind shattered stone and barriers, struggling to endure.
When the storm faded, Loki stood untouched, smirking. "Pathetic."
Issei staggered back into the fray, armor flickering. "Not… done yet!" But Fenrir's fangs flashed again, faster than lightning. The wolf sank its teeth into him, tearing armor and flesh alike. "GAAHHHH!" Issei screamed, blood painting the ground as he was hurled into the wall, his Balance Breaker vanishing in a shatter of crimson light.
"Issei!!!" Rias rushed to his side, horror in her voice.
"The Red Dragon is finished," Loki sneered, gathering his magic. "Now… it's your turn."
He raised his hand—dark energy swelling into a killing spell.
____
[Ding! Group Quest Activated]
Objective: Stop Loki the God of Mischief before he destroys the Underworld.
World: BangSat World
Required Participants: 0/1 member
White Lady: "God? We're actually fighting a god?!"
Robin: "Details, please. What are we walking into?"
BangSat: "Some emo wannabe 'God of Mischief.' He's picking fights with Odin and wants to start Ragnarok. Typical drama. Don't sweat it."
Frost Dragon Empress: "I'll go."
Evil Spirits: "Ara~ that was quick. You miss him that much?"
Frost Dragon Empress: "Of course not. I'm just bored, and this looks entertaining."
BangSat: "Heh~ they won't see this coming."
_____
Rias closed her eyes, bracing herself for unimaginable pain—but the world split open with light.
A portal shimmered into existence, and from it stepped a woman with silver-lavender hair, a golden headband resting elegantly above her blue eyes. Her presence carried an aura like the heart of winter: sharp, regal, absolute.
The killing spell aimed at Rias dissolved into frost before it touched her.
Everyone froze.
"Who… who is that?" Amaterasu whispered, her usual divine pride giving way to genuine caution.
Jeanne's lips curved into a relieved smile. "Ah… Velzard-san. You came at the perfect time."
Kiyohime hid her grin behind a fan, her voice lilting with dangerous amusement. "Fufu~ One of Danna-sama's friends. And trust me… she is very strong."
Velzard's gaze fixed upon Loki, calm and merciless as the abyssal cold. Frost spread from her feet in rippling waves, sealing cracks in the earth, turning corpses into flawless ice statues.
"Who are you?" Loki demanded, his sneer already strained by unease.
Velzard raised her hand—no chant, no flourish. Just a gesture.
The Midgard Serpent replica writhed as its scales frosted over. In a single heartbeat, the colossal beast was entombed, its roar muffled behind walls of ice thicker than castle fortresses. It thrashed once, twice—then silence. A creature that had forced Rias and Sona into desperation was erased as though it had never lived.
"Wha—" Rias's voice broke.
Sona's glasses fogged, her eyes wide with calculation and disbelief. "She… sealed it instantly…"
Even Sirzechs, far away, narrowed his eyes, his usual warmth fading into steel. "This presence… it rivals a Dragon God."
Loki snarled, lashing out in desperation. "Fenrir! Tear her apart!"
The wolf lunged with fury—only to falter mid-stride. Velzard's gaze shifted. The air itself froze. Fenrir's growl choked into silence as ice sealed his throat shut. Hati and Sköll yelped, frost racing up their limbs, trapping them like insects caught in amber.
"Im… impossible," Loki rasped, beads of sweat crystallizing on his brow.
Velzard finally spoke, her voice smooth and unhurried, yet carrying the weight of an executioner's verdict. "You are loud. I dislike loud things."
She extended her fingers. A circle of spears—pure, crystalline ice—erupted around Loki in a dazzling corona, each one thrumming with lethal intent.
Rossweisse gasped. "That density… it isn't magic—it's like her will is rewriting the world itself…"
Issei, clutching his wound, stared wide-eyed. "…What is she?"
Ddraig rumbled within her, unsettled. "She's not human. Not devil, not angel, not god… She smells of a dragon. But not one I have ever known. Just who is this woman?"
Amaterasu bit her lip, her eyes narrowing with reluctant respect. "She is a monster in the truest sense… a being even gods should not provoke."
Loki, pride bleeding into fear, layered barrier after barrier in frantic defense. The spears shot forward—no wasted movement, no mercy. His defenses shattered like brittle glass, detonating into cascades of frozen shards. Loki reeled, his arm sliced open, blood spraying before freezing midair into scarlet ice.
The battlefield fell silent, save for the creak and crack of frost consuming the ground.
Velzard lowered her hand, eyes never leaving her prey. Her tone was calm, almost bored. "Shall I continue… or have you already learned fear?"
None dared breathe too loudly. Devils, angels, and even Odin himself stood frozen—not by her ice, but by the suffocating weight of her overwhelming presence.
Even Serafall, who cloaked every moment in playful bravado, whispered breathlessly, her voice trembling between awe and fear. "…She's terrifying… and beautiful."
"It's time, Earthlings."
A voice slithered from the shadows behind him, cold and sharp like a knife in the dark.
Loki froze, then threw back his head and laughed madly. "You think this is enough to stop me? You've only seen a fraction of my hand!"
A colossal magic circle burst open above the battlefield, layered with runes so ancient even Odin's eyes widened. Loki's power swelled as he roared them:
"Long live the Dark Four Heavenly Kings… Lord Mefilas!"
•
Far away, in a hidden chamber deep within the DxD world, a being stirred. His body was humanoid but alien, dark skin textured like armored scales. His legs were bulky, ridged like stone, his chest segmented with ridges that pulsed faintly with energy.
Alien Mefilas.
He watched the battle unfold through a rippling projection, his voice calm yet laced with malice.
"Where are you, Ultraman? I know you're here… in this universe. Did you think you could humiliate me and simply disappear? No… it won't be that simple." His eyes glinted as he studied the supernatural factions below. Devils, angels, gods. "Hm… 'Supernatural creatures,' they call it? Useful… very useful. They'll serve His Majesty well."
•
On the battlefield, Satria narrowed his eyes, his smirk almost hidden. His words were quiet, spoken only for the woman at his side. "Mefilas… so he really chased me this far."
Kiyohime tilted her head, her fan hiding a sly smile. "Ara, Danna-sama… you know this creature?"
"Yeah," Satria replied, his gaze never leaving Loki. "This is no longer a local problem. This is a multiverse conflict. Be ready… because from now on, this world's fate is about to be turned upside down."
•
The magic circle trembled, its light warping into crimson and black. From it, something colossal clawed its way into existence.
An abomination of myth.
Two titanic heads snarled in unison—one wreathed in fire, the other frozen in eternal ice. The body was a fusion of molten muscle and jagged frost, a contradiction made flesh. Surtr, the fire giant of Ragnarok, and Ymir, the progenitor of frost giants—merged into one blasphemous body.
The ground shook as it rose, the very air screaming from the clash of heat and cold.
The gods and devils alike recoiled. Even Odin, who had seen countless horrors, went pale.
"No… this… this should not exist. This is—"
"ODINNNNNN!!!" the abomination thundered, its two heads roaring in broken unison. "PREPARE TO MEET YOUR RECKONING… AND YOUR END!!!"
The battlefield drowned in fire and ice, despair spreading like wildfire.
Loki threw his head back, laughing like a madman. "Behold! My new master's gift! Even gods will kneel before the new age!"
•
"What should we do, Shin-kun?" Serafall's voice trembled—not with fear, but with urgency.
Satria deadpanned, arms crossed. "Why are you asking me? That pervert old man from the Norse should be doing something! That oversized popsicle-flame combo looks like his number-one fan." He jabbed a thumb toward Odin, his face twisted in annoyance. 'Seriously, what the hell are they thinking, dumping their mess on me? I'm not some shounen MC who jumps into every brawl the moment a enemy shows up…'
Odin let out a nervous laugh, scratching his beard. "Ehehe… well, he is technically my problem…"
"Technically?" Sirzechs snapped, rolling his eyes.
The abomination—two heads roaring in chaotic unison—lifted its arms. Fire and ice swirled into a single destructive storm. The air cracked, stone fractured, and the sky itself seemed ready to collapse.
The blast hurtled toward Rias and Sona's groups.
"Rias!"
"Sona!"
Before impact, a crimson barrier flared—Sirzechs appeared, his aura of destruction unraveling the blast at the edges. Beside him, Serafall's ice wings spread, her magic freezing and dispersing the firestorm. The two sisters stared wide-eyed as their siblings shielded them.
"Don't worry," Sirzechs said firmly, his voice calm but resolute. "We won't let anything harm you."
Serafall winked at Sona, though her tone was sharp. "Leave the big stuff to us, okay?"
One by one, the great powers stepped forward.
Michael's twelve wings unfolded, golden light cascading across the battlefield.
Azazel's sacred light weapons hummed into existence, orbiting him like blades of judgment.
Odin tightened his grip on Gungnir, his eye gleaming with battle fury.
Amaterasu's divine flames shimmered, rising like the dawn.
Devils, angels, fallen, Norse gods, and Shinto deities—all aligned, standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Their auras collided, forming a wall of light, fire, frost, and divine wrath against the titan looming before them.
Even Velzard, who had been watching in silence, allowed the faintest smile. "… Perhaps this world isn't entirely weak."
The abomination bellowed, its two voices splitting the skies. "I AM JÖTUNNSKELDR… THE END-BRINGER OF ASGARD AND THE WORLD!"
The united forces faced him down, their combined resolve blazing brighter than the storm.
Satria lounged back in his chair like he was watching a late-night drama instead of Ragnarok unfolding. One leg over the armrest, a glass of milk tea in hand, he swirled it as though it were fine wine. The battlefield shimmered in a projected screen before him, Jötunnskeldr's roars shaking the land—but he only smirked.
"Hahaha… oh, this is rich," he drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Let me guess… use that clown and muscle-head as bait, smoke me out, and squeeze me for intel? Am I right? Am I riiight? Heh. Too bad, so sad~"
His wives, scattered around the lounge, traded glances. Jeanne exhaled slowly, resting her cheek on her palm. "He's enjoying this far too much."
A shimmer of frost announced Velzard's arrival. She appeared without ceremony, folding her arms, her expression unreadable.
Satria tilted his head with a grin. "Oh? Done with your ice-sculpting show, Miss Velzard? Or maybe…" His tone dropped into mock drama. "…you just missed me~?"
Bonk!
"Gah!" He flinched, rubbing his head where she had smacked him. "At least pretend to be gentle! You're wasting all that goddess-tier charm, what a shame."
Velzard's pale cheeks faintly colored, but her scowl held firm. "…Behave, you dolt."
"Cold as ever…" Satria sighed theatrically, then perked up. "Excuse me, one sec—I need to check in on my adorable catgirl."
He whipped out a glowing multiversal phone and dialed. The projection flickered to life: Fran, still in her adventurer's gear, standing in what looked like a ship. Her ears twitched, her blue eyes narrowing the instant she saw him.
"Fran! My precious wife! How are you today? Did you eat well? Did you sleep well? Want me to send over the brand-new Pocket Hot-Spring Generator™? Or the Self-Cleaning Combat Robot with built-in Wi-Fi? Ooh, ooh, I just finished a Food Synthesizer—"
"No." Fran cut him off flatly.
"But—"
"I'm adventuring. Not picnicking."
"…Eh?" His face crumpled like a rejected puppy.
"I'll call you later. Don't do anything stupid." Click. The call ended.
"…She hung up on me." Satria slumped, clutching his chest. "Is my catgirl… in a rebellious phase?"
Kiyohime fanned herself with a sly smile. "Ara~ That's what you get, Danna-sama. You spoil her too much."
Jeanne leaned forward, hands braced on her knees. "Honestly, Honey… you're supposed to support her journey, not turn it into one of your tech expos."
Koneko, sitting cross-legged on the couch with a bowl of snacks, deadpanned. "You're annoying when you hover. She's strong. Let her breathe."
Velzard delivered the final blow, voice cool and precise. "…Try acting like a normal person for once."
Satria collapsed back into his chair, groaning. "Ouch. Betrayed by all my girls in a single evening. Have mercy on me…"
"Drama queen," Koneko muttered, tail flicking.
Kiyohime chuckled, leaning against him. "Still… it's cute you worry so much. Just… tone it down, yes?"
Satria glanced between them, a sly grin creeping back. "…So what you're all saying is… I should double down next time."
"NO!" all four snapped at once.
The roar of Jötunnskeldr echoed through the projection again, shaking the foundations of the battlefield. Satria sipped his milk tea with a smirk. "Haha. Even Ragnarok isn't as scary as my own wives."
The battlefield was chaos incarnate.
Every strike against Jötunnskeldr was meaningless. Wounds that should have crippled simply closed as though the giant were mocking them. Each step split the land itself—one half igniting into rivers of molten fire, the other frosting into glacial wastelands.
Rias and Sona's peerages fought valiantly, blades and spells clashing with Loki's illusions, but even united they were only stalling. Victory was far beyond their grasp.
Rossweisse, Irina, Xenovia, Kiba, and Gasper stood as mid-tier support. Irina's angelic form shone brilliantly, her sword carving arcs of light—but not even Heaven's blessing could pierce Jötunnskeldr's hide.
Sirzechs, the mightiest of the Devils, hurled his Power of Destruction, colliding with the giant's frostfire aura in a clash that warped the air itself. Serafall unleashed storms of absolute zero, but Ymir's legacy in Jötunnskeldr simply laughed at her cold.
The gods rallied. Odin, long past his prime, still lifted Gungnir with shaking hands and defiant eyes. Michael's holy brilliance seared the sky, though restrained—too much risk to Heaven's system. Amaterasu shone like the morning sun, her flames gilding the battlefield, yet her strength was no warrior's edge like Susanoo's.
"Now!" Sirzechs roared, his crimson aura swelling. "Everyone, combine your power!"
Magic circles blazed to life. Sirzechs's annihilation, Azazel's tactical seals, Serafall's storm of snow and crystal, Michael's radiant judgment, Amaterasu's sunfire, even Odin's Gungnir, all converged into a single, overwhelming symphony of skills.
The Hell's split. A titanic seal wrapped the giant, compressing his form with divine and demonic chains. For one fragile heartbeat, the impossible seemed real.
Silence fell.
Jötunnskeldr roared, the sound muffled by the prison of light. The world itself seemed to hold its breath.
"…Did it work?" Xenovia gasped, Durandal trembling in her grip.
The answer came with a sound like shattering glass.
The seal broke.
From the ruin rose Jötunnskeldr, more furious than before. In his right hand, a sword of blazing fire that devoured the horizon. In his left, a shield of living ice that froze the earth in an instant. Together, they radiated Ragnarök—the fire to burn the world, and the frost to preserve its corpse forever.
Even the Maou paled. Hope bled from the battlefield like water through sand.
"Senpai…" Koneko whispered, her fists trembling, her tail bristling. "At this rate… everyone will die."
Jeanne stepped forward, golden light trembling across her armor. She bit her lip, eyes fixed on the projection. "…Darling. Please. They need you."
Satria exhaled slowly. He set down his half-finished glass of milk tea with deliberate calm, the clink of glass on room somehow louder than the roaring sky. His eyes lingered on Jötunnskeldr, then on his wives' desperate faces.
"…Yare-yare daze," he muttered, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the weight of boredom. His smirk was both playful and inevitable. "In the end… looks like I have to join this circus too, huh?"
To be continued...