The Underworld. A realm veiled beneath an eternal blood moon, its crimson glow cascading across scorched black mountains and rivers of magma that seethed like infernal veins. Flaming titans howled from the chasms, and low-hanging clouds—stained red and pulsing with malice—occasionally split open with flashes of violet lightning, revealing the sprawling abyssal palaces below.
And there, nestled among obsidian spires and ancient thrones, stood the ancestral stronghold of the Diablo family—a High-Class Demon lineage feared across all hellish planes.
Within the heart of that castle, past winding corridors and enchanted seals, sat Isamu.
Reclining in a velvet-lined chair within an ornately furnished chamber, he stared silently ahead, brows furrowed in thought. Jet-black hair framed his youthful face—soft yet noble, touched with the faint sharpness of power. His violet-red eyes held a quiet brilliance—calculating, detached, ancient in aura despite his youthful form.
And then, as if drawn by the tension in the air, a silver voice broke the silence.
"Is something troubling you, my lord?"
Isamu turned. Standing with perfect posture, her body wrapped in a black maid outfit tailored like ceremonial armor, was the woman known across dimensions:
Grayfia Lucifuge—the Silver-Haired Extermination Queen.
She was elegance incarnate. Her silver hair fell like liquid moonlight, her gaze calm yet piercing, her presence... otherworldly.
Isamu's mind stirred.
Grayfia Lucifuge—once destined to serve Sirzechs Lucifer and the prestigious Gremory bloodline. And yet, fate twisted cruelly, beautifully. Instead of standing by the side of a Maou, she now served him—a seemingly low-ranking noble boy, but secretly the head of the Diablo family.
And she served with no less than full loyalty.
He found that amusing. No, intoxicating.
The queen of annihilation, now his steward.
"It's nothing, Grayfia," Isamu replied, his lips curling into a faint smile. "Just pondering."
She bowed slightly, her hair cascading like a waterfall.
"My lord, the annual tributes from our contracted human families have arrived. Shall I present them to you?"
Isamu blinked.
"Tributes?"
Grayfia elaborated gently, "Yes, from the ancient bloodlines in the human world. The Diablo family forged covenants long ago. In exchange for our protection, they offer rare and powerful treasures each year."
"...Fascinating," Isamu murmured, a flicker of curiosity dancing in his eyes. "Show me."
She nodded and left with silent grace, returning moments later with several maids—each pushing carts shrouded in crimson silk.
Grayfia peeled the silk from the first cart.
A dazzling trove of rarities unfolded before him: otherworldly artifacts, enchanted weapons, cursed gems, void-infused relics...
They were beautiful.
But to Isamu, they were just… shiny toys.
He leaned forward, prepared to examine the next set of offerings.
Then it happened.
A chilling voice, mechanical and divine, whispered into his soul.
> [Ding! Collectible artifact contact confirmed. Activating Grand Collector System!]
[Ding! Upper-class demon bloodline maturity detected. Diablo Lineage Awakening Commenced.]
The world shook.
A surge of power burst from Isamu's body.
A massive pressure exploded outward, freezing the air, solidifying the room's atmosphere like a spell gone awry. The temperature plunged. The walls trembled. Invisible power lashed out, cracking the floor tiles.
Grayfia stumbled back, eyes wide. "T-This aura… Has my lord's bloodline awakened?!"
> BOOM!
The sheer pressure coiled around Isamu like a cloak of fear incarnate. It suffocated the room like an ancient beast opening its jaws.
Grayfia gritted her teeth. "It truly is the Diablo bloodline...!"
And then came joy.
Rare, pure joy.
The bloodline of the Diablo clan—rumored to have laid waste to pantheons, devoured fallen angels, and waged wars against primordial dragons—was awakening.
To awaken it this early... It was unheard of.
But it was real.
The moment had come.
Within Isamu's soul, memories surged. Visions of chaos. Massacres. Power unimaginable. The screams of angelic legions being crushed beneath demonic warhorses. Thrones of bone and flame. Ancestors cloaked in shadow, reigning over hellscapes where time itself dared not move.
And one word echoed louder than all others:
Fear.
That was the Diablo family's true heritage.
Not fire. Not destruction.
Terror.
Fear was their crown. Their power. Their domain.
Isamu opened his eyes—gleaming red like a devil emperor reborn.
"Master…?" Grayfia whispered.
She saw it. The change. The shift in presence. The magnetic dominance of an apex predator.
She also knew the risks.
The Diablo bloodline… if mishandled… could consume the wielder. Turn them into a mindless reaper, a beast of carnage and torment.
That thought made her tremble. Not out of fear… but reverence.
She said nothing more. She simply stood still—watching, waiting.
This… was only the beginning.
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