The Devils had finished sharing their dreams, hearts still buzzing from speeches about hope and ambition. But as the banquet shifted to its true purpose, the atmosphere changed—tension rippled through every conversation.
The four Maou gathered, voices low and urgent, debating the crisis of the Khaos Brigade.
Suddenly, Sairaorg stepped forward, just as bold as ever.
"Your Majesty Sirzechs, I want to join the main force against the Khaos Brigade—just like Nangong Shuo. Please, grant me permission!"
Sirzechs studied Sairaorg's determined face, his own expression hardening.
"No. Absolutely not. You'll stay in the Underworld and keep training."
Sairaorg blinked, caught off guard. "Why?"
He'd expected approval—after all, his dream was to become Maou, and joining the fight would be a chance to prove himself.
He didn't want more training. He needed real combat, the kind that forged legends in blood and fire.
Sirzechs and the other Maou exchanged rueful smiles, then tried to reason with him.
"Sairaorg, you're strong, but not strong enough. The Khaos Brigade is too dangerous. You're the pride of our new generation—I won't allow you to risk your life."
Sirzechs's tone brooked no argument. They couldn't afford to lose one of the few remaining pure-blood Devil heirs.
But Sairaorg refused to back down, frustration showing on his face.
"Your Majesty, if Nangong Shuo can fight the Khaos Brigade, so can I. If you won't approve me, then let me challenge him. If I win, you have to let me join the battle!"
The entire hall froze.
Shuo, who'd been enjoying the spectacle, suddenly felt every eye turn his way.
How did this end up on me?
Sairaorg's challenge stunned the Maou and high-ranking Devils. Their faces twisted in disbelief.
"Sairaorg, do you even understand what you're saying? You're sure you want to challenge Nangong Shuo?"
Sirzechs's voice was quiet, almost incredulous.
Ajuka Beelzebub chimed in, trying to talk him down. "Sairaorg, be reasonable. This isn't a fight you can win."
You want to face Nangong Shuo? That's not bravery—it's insanity.
Even if every Devil in the Underworld joined forces, they'd be outmatched.
Shuo's strength was already on par with the Dragon God, and that was before he tapped into his trump cards.
Brave?
No—this was something else entirely.
Sairaorg was undeterred. "Your Majesties, please don't try to stop me. I accept the consequences, whatever they may be."
He knew Shuo was strong, but he wouldn't run. Win or lose, he'd face it head-on.
Sirzechs sighed, clearly torn. "Shuo-kun, what do you think?"
Shuo considered, then nodded. "If Sairaorg is this determined, I'll give him the match he wants. Maybe he'll get a sense of just how wide the world really is."
Poor Sairaorg. Don't blame me if I go hard on you—this is for your own good.
The Khaos Brigade isn't just dangerous—they're monsters.
Sairaorg's strength was impressive among the new generation, but against the likes of Cao Cao, Vali, or Levian Lucifer, he'd be outclassed—and maybe killed.
Sirzechs looked relieved. "Thank you, Shuo-kun."
He turned to Sairaorg, deadly serious.
"If you beat Nangong Shuo, I'll approve your request to join the main force against the Khaos Brigade.
But if you lose, you'll stay in the Underworld and continue your training."
The hall erupted. The younger Devils stared in shock, while the elders exchanged whispers.
Who was Nangong Shuo, really?
He sat as an equal with the four Maou, and even they deferred to him.
How strong was he, that the entire leadership believed Sairaorg—champion of the new generation—stood no chance?
Rias, Sona, and the others who knew Shuo best glanced at Sairaorg with pity.
Of all the people to challenge, you had to pick Shuo.
Memories of Shuo's brutal training flashed through their minds. Rias shivered.
Sairaorg, let's hope you don't lose so badly you give up altogether.
A moment later, Ajuka Beelzebub conjured an alternate-dimension battlefield—a vast, empty plain, perfectly suited for the match.
Shuo and Sairaorg entered the arena.
Sirzechs leaned forward, eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"How many moves do you think it'll take Shuo to defeat Sairaorg?"
The other Maou perked up, eager to weigh in.
"If Shuo goes all out, one move is enough!" Serafall declared.
Falbium disagreed. "No, no—even without full power, Sairaorg won't last a single move."
Ajuka nodded. "I'm with Falbium. This isn't going to be close."
The nobles and young Devils gaped at the scene.
Was this really happening?
Sairaorg was the strongest of the new generation—a true Satan-class powerhouse.
And yet, the Maou were betting on an instant defeat, even without Shuo using his full strength.
Faced with the Maou's confidence and the elders' reverence, the crowd's excitement reached a fever pitch.
Every eye was locked on Shuo and Sairaorg, desperate not to miss a single moment.
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