Sirzechs trudged into the Gremory dining hall, and the faint aroma of freshly cooked food instantly melted away his lingering exhaustion.
The long mahogany table gleamed under golden chandeliers, and maids moved quietly to set out the dishes.
On his plate, a perfectly grilled cut of beef rested, seared brown on the outside yet dripping with juicy tenderness inside.
It was coated with a delicate glaze of crimson wine reduction, sweet with a hint of tartness. Beside it sat roasted potatoes, crisp on the outside, fluffy on the inside, sprinkled with herbs that released a comforting fragrance.
A side of sautéed vegetables—vibrant carrots, green beans, and zucchini—added both color and crunch. For bread, there was a warm slice of buttered brioche, its surface glistening, practically melting in his mouth when he bit in.
Finally, the dessert was already waiting on a silver tray: a small, chilled custard tart with a glossy caramel top.
Sirzechs dug in without hesitation, savoring every bite as though he hadn't eaten in days. Training always made food taste twice as good.
He licked his lips and downed a glass of chilled fruit nectar, sighing in satisfaction.
"Maybe being a devil isn't so bad after all," he muttered to himself.
After eating, Sirzechs retreated to his chambers. The maids had already laid out his clothes for the occasion. Today wasn't a day for sparring attire—it called for something proper, befitting the heir of Gremory.
He slipped into a finely tailored deep-crimson tunic, its fabric smooth like silk but durable enough to allow free movement.
The tunic had subtle golden embroidery tracing along the sleeves, forming elegant patterns resembling flames—an homage to the Gremory Clan's fiery power.
Over it, he wore a sleeveless black vest with silver buttons, fitted perfectly to his slim but toned frame, giving him the air of someone both noble and sharp.
His trousers were jet black, crisp and neatly pressed, tucked into knee-high boots of polished leather that gleamed faintly under the light.
The boots bore small silver clasps shaped like a dragon's claw, a touch of flair without being gaudy. Around his waist, a slim belt with a ruby-studded buckle secured the outfit.
Finally, he draped a short cloak over his shoulders—dark red lined with velvet on the inside—that fluttered as he walked. Standing before the mirror, Sirzechs adjusted his collar and smirked.
"Not bad. Definitely not goblin-like."
The Gremory living room was spacious yet warm. A chandelier of crystal hung from the ceiling, scattering light across polished marble floors.
Velvet couches in shades of wine red and royal black circled around a low ebony table carved with sigils of the clan. Tall windows framed with golden curtains let sunlight stream in, painting the room in soft warmth.
A fireplace at the far end glowed faintly, despite it being unnecessary, adding comfort more than heat. Portraits of past Gremory heads lined the walls, their stern gazes softened by the lively energy of the room itself.
The doors swung open.
Ajuka Astaroth entered first—a boy of slight build, with emerald-green hair that framed his sharp face and striking jade eyes that seemed far too calculating for his age. He wore a neat navy-blue robe stitched with arcane symbols, and a small book was tucked under his arm, as if he had brought homework to a playdate.
Behind him, skipping rather than walking, came Serafall Sitri. With midnight-black hair tied in twin pigtails and sapphire eyes sparkling with mischief, she looked every bit the playful girl she was. She wore a frilly sky-blue dress with ribbons at the hem and matching slippers, a wand-shaped hairpin glinting on her head.
"Zechs~!" Serafall called, coming towards him dramatically and jumping into his arms.
"Your queen of cuteness has arrived!"
Ajuka rolled his eyes. "Correction: the disaster of noise pollution has arrived."
Sirzechs smirked, spreading his arms to hug her back.
"Well, well. The tactician and the menace. Took you both long enough."
Serafall puffed her cheeks.
"Menace?! Rude! I'm the star of the Sitri Clan, future idol of the Underworld, and number one cutie in all the realms!"
She spun around with her arms spread wide.
"Ta-da!"
Ajuka didn't even look up from the book he had already opened while walking toward the couch. "Stars usually burn out quickly. Quite symbolic, actually."
"Wha—! You meanie!" Serafall stomped her foot, glaring at him.
Sirzechs chuckled. "Don't worry, Sera. Ajuka doesn't know how to compliment people. If he says you'll burn out, it probably means you shine brighter than anyone."
Serafall instantly brightened. "Aww, Zechs! You're the best! See, Ajuka? That's how you treat a lady!"
Ajuka finally looked up, deadpan. "First, you'd have to be a lady. Currently, you're closer to a hyperactive pixie."
Serafall gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "How dare you insult me in my presence! Zechs, punish him for me!"
Sirzechs leaned back in his chair with a smirk. "Hmm… I don't know. He's not entirely wrong."
Both turned on him at once.
"Traitor!" Serafall cried.
"Finally, some logic," Ajuka muttered.
Sirzechs laughed, holding up his hands. "Relax, relax! You two haven't even been here for five minutes and already I feel like I'm babysitting."
"Excuse me, Mister 'I'm-so-serious-all-the-time'," Serafall retorted, sticking her tongue out. "I came here to have fun, not to listen to Ajuka's boring lectures!"
"I didn't lecture you," Ajuka said calmly. "I made an observation. A very accurate one, I might add."
"Ughhh! Zechs, tell him to stop using those big smarty words! They make my brain hurt!"
Sirzechs snorted. "Big words like… observation?"
"Exactly!" Serafall nodded fiercely.
Ajuka pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is what I put up with. Incredible."
Sirzechs, grinning ear to ear, leaned forward. "Well, you both came here for me, right? So let's compromise. Ajuka, you keep your genius commentary to a minimum. Sera, you keep your noise down by… at least fifty percent. Deal?"
Serafall crossed her arms. "Fifty percent is impossible. But maybe… ten."
Ajuka said flatly, "Zero."
"Fine," Sirzechs sighed dramatically. "So much for compromise."
Serafall suddenly perked up. "Oh! I brought sweets! Want some?" She pulled out a pouch and tossed it open, revealing colorful candies.
Ajuka looked unimpressed. "Sugar. Excellent. That's exactly what you need."
Sirzechs chuckled. "You know what, give me one. Might as well sweeten the headache you two are about to give me."
The living room buzzed with a chaotic energy only children of noble households could create.
Serafall had claimed one entire couch as her "idol stage," balancing on the cushions with both arms spread dramatically. "And now, for my next performance, the future Supreme Queen of Cute presents… Serafall the Magnificent!" She twirled, nearly tripping on her own ribbon.
Sirzechs clapped lazily, lounging in his seat. "Bravo, bravo. Ten out of ten for enthusiasm. Minus five for almost face-planting."
"Mean!" Serafall pouted, sticking her tongue out.
Ajuka, sitting cross-legged on the carpet with his book open, didn't even look up. "Minus ten for attempting to weaponize cringe."
That earned him a cushion straight to the face.
"Take that, smarty-pants!" Serafall declared proudly.
Ajuka peeled the pillow off his head, sighed, and muttered, "If this is what being heir to a great house entails, perhaps extinction isn't so bad."
Sirzechs nearly choked laughing. "Don't let your clan hear that, Ajuka. They might actually take you seriously."
The green-haired boy finally shut his book and gave a sly smirk. "You two underestimate me. While you waste time playing and eating sweets, I've already designed a dozen formulas for barrier magic. In ten years, I'll leave you both in the dust."
"Oh please," Serafall huffed, hopping off the couch. "You'll be buried under your books before then. Meanwhile, I'll be dazzling everyone with my magic and my charm!" She spun again, sparks of water magic shimmering around her like glitter.
Sirzechs leaned forward, his eyes glinting. "You're both missing something important. Strength. Doesn't matter how smart or cute you are—if you can't win a fight, you're nothing." His hand flared with crimson demonic power, filling the room with heat.
The atmosphere shifted, the playful mood giving way to something sharper. Three heirs, three futures, clashing already in childhood.
Serafall smirked, summoning a water sphere into her palm. "Careful, Zechs. I can put that fire out."
Ajuka rose to his feet, green runes lighting up around him. "And I can dismantle both of your spells before you finish blinking."
For a moment, power rippled through the room, like the crackle before a storm.
Then—
"Children!" Venelana's voice rang from the doorway, sweet but laced with steel. "This is not a battlefield. If you destroy the living room, you will clean it yourselves."
Instantly, the three froze. Serafall's water fizzled out. Sirzechs dimmed his aura. Ajuka coughed, pretending he hadn't done anything at all.
Venelana raised a brow. "Good. Now, sit. If you want to prove yourselves, do it with words, not by wrecking my house."
The three obeyed, but as they sat down again, their eyes gleamed with silent determination. Rivals, friends, maybe even future comrades—but none of them would back down.
For the first time, Sirzechs realized… this was fun.