Sirzechs looked almost as battered as Tenra—half his armor and robes blown away, leaving a muscular arm bare to the night. His face twisted in frustration as he summoned his power, and in an instant, his ruined armor and robes knit themselves back together.
"Tenra-kun, I'll admit it—I regret letting you grow unchecked. It was a whim, and now it's come to this mess."
His eyes locked onto Tenra, voice edged with bitterness.
Tenra just smirked. "Too bad there's no such thing as a cure for regret. I'm only going to get stronger from here."
He tilted his head, battle-lust burning in his eyes. "So, what do you say? Want to settle things now? If you pass up this chance, you'll have an even harder time taking me down later."
Tenra's fighting spirit flared, wild and unrestrained. The clash had been brief, but he'd felt Sirzechs's strength firsthand—and that was just the power he borrowed. If Sirzechs unleashed his true self, the God of the Bible, how much more terrifying would he be?
It was a crisis, no doubt. But Tenra couldn't help the thrill that ran through him. At their level, worthy opponents were rare, and the prospect of a real fight was intoxicating.
Sirzechs's gaze turned razor-sharp as he weighed Tenra for a long moment. Finally, he shook his head.
"Not this time. I could probably beat you, but I'd pay dearly for it. My instincts say so."
He floated higher, voice softening. "Tenra-kun, let's make a deal."
Tenra frowned, wary. "What kind of deal?"
"I need time to finish my plans. You need time to grow. Why not leave things as they are for now—no interference, no exposure?"
He glanced at Grayfia and Venelana. "They've defected to you, so you know everything. You'll need my Sacred Gears to grow, and I'll have to eliminate you eventually. Since our showdown is inevitable, let's wait until we're both at our peak."
Tenra considered it. More time to grow meant a better chance at victory—he'd be a fool to throw that away. Still, suspicion gnawed at him. Was Sirzechs playing some deeper game?
Before he could answer, Grayfia's voice cut through his thoughts, icy and resolute. "Accept, Tenra Kamiyo."
Tenra glanced at her. Of all people, Grayfia wanted revenge most—yet she could hold back. Her cold, unyielding expression told him everything. He made up his mind.
"Fine. I accept. I won't reveal your identity or interfere with your plans—but you'll guarantee not to harm me or anyone close to me."
He laid down his terms, clear and uncompromising.
Sirzechs nodded. "Agreed."
A truce, for now.
But Sirzechs's gaze lingered on Grayfia and Venelana. "Still, Tenra-kun—could you return Grayfia and Venelana to me? Without them, things will get… complicated."
The women stiffened, dread flickering in their eyes.
Tenra didn't hesitate. "Not a chance. Your problems are yours. I won't hand them over."
Grayfia and Venelana had never truly feared abandonment, but hearing Tenra say it aloud eased something deep inside. They'd chosen well.
Sirzechs sighed. "So be it… Tenra-kun, you care too much for your women. It's your greatest strength—and your greatest weakness."
Tenra snorted. "That's none of your business."
Sirzechs's voice dropped, almost mournful. "For the sake of peace and light, I did terrible things to them. Their hatred is justified. Tenra-kun, treat these two pitiful women well. If anyone can, it's you…"
He faded into the night, his words lingering—a riddle wrapped in guilt. Tenra was left with questions. What was this 'eternal peace and light'? What did Sirzechs truly want?
And to hear a villain urge him to treat his victims kindly—it was almost laughable. Grayfia and Venelana exchanged looks of disgust.
Still, they'd forced Sirzechs to back down. Relief washed over the trio. If Tenra hadn't shown such fearsome strength, tonight might have ended very differently.
Venelana's mood shifted, a playful smile curling her lips as she wrapped herself around Tenra's arm. "So, Tenra—now that Grayfia and I are both yours, how will you arrange things?"
Since Zeoticus's death, Venelana had cut all ties with the impostor. Those wild days in the Sancta Diabolus Hall had been her only taste of true intimacy in centuries. For Tenra, Venelana was a poison he couldn't resist; for Venelana, Tenra was the same—a dangerous addiction she couldn't shake, no matter how she tried.
She felt a pang of guilt for Rias, but she couldn't deny the truth.
Tenra thought for a moment. "Venelana, stay in the Sancta Diabolus Hall for now. I can't let you appear before Rias yet."
Venelana nodded, understanding. Like Tenra, she wanted to shield Rias from the cruel truths. Let her and Grayfia bear the pain—Rias deserved happiness.
Tenra turned to Grayfia. "And you… you'll be my shadow. Guard my back."
Grayfia arched an eyebrow, a cold smile touching her lips. "Entrusting your back to me? Aren't you afraid I'll betray you?"
Tenra shook his head, earnest. "You won't."
Grayfia snorted, but said no more. She vanished, melting into Tenra's shadow.
Venelana watched, her expression complicated. "Tenra, our Gremory family owes Grayfia so much. Don't let her down."
Tenra brushed a hand over Venelana's cheek, smiling. "I won't let you down either."
Venelana flushed, turning away with a playful scoff. "You're such a bully."
Tenra felt desire stirring again and cursed inwardly—enchantress, pure enchantress. He was falling, and he didn't care to fight it anymore.
With a laugh and Venelana's startled gasp, Tenra swept her up by the waist and, in a flash, whisked her back into the Sancta Diabolus Hall.
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