Three days passed. The second round of the Rating Game was finally here—and, thanks to Sirzechs's arrangements, the opening match was Tenra versus Diodora.
"Tenra, just use the coordinates Onii-sama sent. You and your peerage can teleport straight into the battle dimension. We'll be cheering for you from the spectator arena."
Rias called out, watching Tenra and his household gather at the teleportation circle.
"Tenra-senpai, good luck!"
"Onii-sama, make sure you teach that creep a lesson!"
Koneko's quiet encouragement was joined by Ravel's indignant fist-pumping—her dislike for Diodora was personal. Between sabotaging Tenra's engagement and hurting his friends, Diodora had earned nothing but contempt from her.
"Don't worry. He won't know what hit him."
Tenra grinned, nodding to Yubelluna. She tapped her staff, and the group vanished in a swirl of light.
Underworld - Rating Game Alternate Arena
Tenra and his peerage materialized, eyes sweeping across the landscape. The arena was modeled after a region of the Underworld—purple, oppressive skies, jagged terrain, and, on a distant rise, a looming temple.
A flash overhead—Diodora appeared, hovering midair, wearing a smile that belonged on a snake.
"Tenra Kamiyo, you're finally here. I've been waiting."
Tenra snorted. "Drop the act, Diodora. We're not friends. That fake smile is making me sick."
Diodora's mask cracked. He erupted into laughter—loud, manic, echoing across the battlefield.
"Tenra Kamiyo! You're as infuriating as ever. Today—today I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"
The venom in his narrow eyes was unmistakable.
Tenra met his glare with a cold smirk. "You? Kill me? Keep dreaming."
Diodora's rage was palpable. That look—Tenra's contempt—had haunted him since their first meeting. How dare this so-called "failure" look down on him, the genius heir of Astaroth?
Today, I'll kill him. No matter what!
"Come forth!"
With a shrill command, magic circles flashed in the sky. Demons wielding long-handled axes poured out—Khaos Brigade, Old Satan Faction insignia gleaming on their armor.
Yubelluna's voice was tense at Tenra's side. "Tenra-sama, those are Old Satan Faction marks."
Tenra's eyes narrowed, fury flickering across his face. "Diodora, what the hell do you think you're doing? The Maou are watching this match. You're colluding with terrorists—are you openly betraying the Underworld?"
Diodora's answer was contemptuous. "The Maou, my family—none of them matter. If betraying the Underworld means I can kill you, so be it. Today is your death day!"
He laughed, wild and triumphant, savoring Tenra's apparent outrage.
Tenra's gaze darkened, watching the swarm of demons gather overhead.
"Don't tell me you think these small fry can actually kill me."
Diodora sneered. "Of course not. I know your strength better than anyone. But they only need to wear you down. I'll be waiting in the temple—waiting for you to drag yourself to me, exhausted. Then I'll finish you myself!"
He laid his plan bare, convinced Tenra would walk right into the trap.
Let the Khaos Brigade fodder drain Tenra's power, then finish him off with Ophis's strength. It was, in Diodora's mind, a flawless strategy.
"Attack!"
With a wave, the sky erupted—demons unleashed a barrage of fireballs, axes gleaming.
Tosca darted forward, Sacred Gear blazing to life. Her barrier shimmered, absorbing the explosions that shook the ground.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The earth trembled, but Tosca's defense held firm.
"Tenra-sama, what do we do?" Yubelluna's voice was steady, but concern flashed in her eyes.
A Rating Game drawing out the Khaos Brigade and Old Satan Faction—this was no ordinary match.
Tenra's lips curled into a smile—no trace of his earlier fury remained.
"What do we do? We take care of Diodora. That idiot just handed me the perfect excuse to take him out in broad daylight."
He'd been waiting for this moment. Before, Diodora's status as Astaroth's heir had made him untouchable, no matter how deep their feud ran. Killing him outright would have brought trouble to Tenra—and to House Phoenix.
But now? Diodora had thrown away every protection. He was fair game.
Just as Tenra was about to elaborate, a magic screen flickered to life. Azazel's projection appeared, casual as ever.
"Yo, kid. How's it looking over there?"
The spectator arena was chaos—Khaos Brigade attacking, Azazel swatting aside enemies like flies.
Tenra shrugged. "What do you think? Diodora's working with the Khaos Brigade. We're under fire too."
Azazel grinned. "Yeah, sorry about that—used you and your team as bait. But, honestly, you were hoping for this, weren't you?"
"Tch. I'll let it slide. Rias and the others—are they safe?"
"Your little girlfriends are holding their own. But the arena you're in is sealed—reinforcements can't reach you. You're on your own for now."
"No problem. I'm not letting Diodora walk out of here."
Azazel's smile widened. "Sirzechs already said—Diodora's chosen his side. He's the Underworld's enemy now. Do whatever you want with him."
"Perfect."
Tenra ended the call, his smile cold and sharp.
No more restraints. No more doubts.
He called forth his Sword Birth—a jet-black blade materialized in his hand, gleaming with lethal promise.
"Tosca, drop the barrier."
He turned to his peerage, eyes blazing.
"Battle starts now."
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