The moment they stepped onto the alternate-dimension battlefield, Shuo regarded Sairaorg with a calm, almost gentle smile.
"Sairaorg, aren't you going to use your Longinus—the Lion King's Battle Axe?"
Sairaorg's eyes lit up, battle spirit burning bright.
"Thanks for the warning, but since you're fighting me up close, I'll keep things fair and leave it out."
Shuo just shrugged, helpless.
If Sairaorg wanted a clean fight, who was he to argue?
But as he faced Shuo—whose eyes were as tranquil as a midnight lake—Sairaorg felt a chill run down his spine.
He couldn't read this man at all.
Then—without warning—Sairaorg vanished, his strength tearing a crater into the ground. He reappeared in front of Shuo in a blur, fist cocked to strike.
The crowd gasped.
Sairaorg's speed and decisiveness caught even the most jaded Devils off guard.
But his blow passed straight through Shuo's body.
An afterimage?
Sairaorg's mind reeled. Shuo had moved so fast, he'd left a phantom behind.
Suddenly, Shuo's presence materialized behind him.
Sairaorg spun, unleashing every ounce of power he had.
"Rock-Smashing Water Stream Fist!"
But Shuo's response was effortless—a whisper of words, a surge of pressure.
Sairaorg's world went white. A shockwave slammed into him—not even a direct hit, just the force of Shuo's attack.
Blood sprayed from his lips, and he was sent flying, tumbling across the plain like a ragdoll.
Shuo exhaled, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Good thing I held back. Any more and I might've killed him."
Outside the battlefield, the gallery of Devils sat frozen.
"Did… did that really just happen? Sairaorg lost in a single blow?!"
"The Maou weren't exaggerating?! This is insane!"
"He didn't even touch him—just pure force!"
"How can the gap be this wide?!"
All eyes turned to Shuo, worship and awe mingling in every gaze.
Sirzechs let out a low whistle.
"Every time, Shuo-kun finds a way to surprise me. Maybe we really don't have to worry about the Khaos Brigade or the otherworldly threats anymore."
He smiled, pride and relief mixing on his face.
After all, Shuo was Rias's fiancé—his future brother-in-law. Maybe the Gremory family's future was brighter than he'd ever imagined.
Serafall huffed, trying to sound unimpressed.
"Please, we all know how terrifying he really is. If he got even a little serious, his aura alone would flatten Sairaorg."
But her bravado was paper-thin. Inside, she was panicking.
Oh no, Sona-chan, this pervert just keeps getting stronger. One day, your big sister's going to be at his mercy…
Sirzechs nodded, remembering the battered state of the Two Heavenly Dragons after their own encounters with Shuo.
Ajuka, Falbium, and the rest of the Devil nobility could only stare, silent and shaken.
A monster, through and through.
Back in the battlefield, Sairaorg finally managed to stagger to his feet, drenched in sweat and ghostly pale.
His eyes were glazed with shock and a touch of despair.
"If you'd used your Longinus," Shuo said, almost regretful, "maybe it wouldn't have been so one-sided."
He truly admired Sairaorg's courage, which was why he'd pulled his punches.
He'd let Sairaorg attack first, then finished him with a technique—enough to save his pride, if not the match.
Sairaorg managed a weak smile.
"I wanted a fair fight. I just never realized how impossible the gap was. There's a chasm between us I can't even see the bottom of."
He took a breath, then called out, voice clear despite his exhaustion:
"Your Majesty Sirzechs, I concede!"
A familiar chime sounded in Shuo's mind.
Ding! Congratulations, Host. Red gift package awarded.
Back in the real world, Sairaorg was whisked away for treatment—his injuries weren't life-threatening, but he'd need time to recover.
Strangely, his defeat didn't diminish his reputation. If anything, more nobles rallied behind him.
Devils respected strength, but they also admired the courage to challenge it.
The banquet resumed, Sirzechs taking time to emphasize the upcoming Rating Game tournament.
Soon, the gathering of the new generation came to its official end.
Afterward, Sirzechs and the Maou met with Shuo to discuss the dragon phantom.
"My suggestion," Sirzechs said, "is that during the Rating Games, with all the major pantheons present, we reveal both the otherworldly threat and your true identity. It's time to lay all the cards on the table."
Shuo just nodded, unbothered. "Fine by me."
Later that night…
"You're living at little Rias's house, aren't you? Why are you following me home?!"
Serafall glared, cheeks puffed and arms crossed, as Shuo trailed behind her.
The truth was, Shuo had been staying with the Gremorys. Sona and the other girls hadn't seen him in ages, so Sona invited him to the Sitri estate after the banquet.
Shuo, naturally, agreed. Two birds with one stone—he could see Sona, and he could tease Serafall to his heart's content.
He spent the whole walk inventing excuses to get close, hands wandering far too often.
Serafall pouted, looking utterly aggrieved.
Shuo just grinned.
"Anyone I've got my eye on doesn't get to run away. Next time you sneak off without saying goodbye, I'll strip you naked and spank you."
Serafall's face went crimson. "You… you pervert! Hentai! Degenerate!"
Shuo only laughed, letting her vent. When she finally ran out of steam, he leaned in with a wicked smile.
"When we get back to the Sitri house, come to my room. We've still got some magical girl filming to finish, remember?"
He dropped his voice, voice full of playful menace.
"And don't even think about running. You know what I can do. Keh keh keh…"
Serafall's whole body tensed, her face a mask of shame and dread.
Right now, she was powerless—a helpless little lamb about to be devoured.
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