Draconis didn't hold back—not for a second.
His fist connected, and Riser's face twisted grotesquely under the impact.
Riser flew sideways, a sharp whoosh slicing through the air.
He skidded across the ground, carving a trench nearly twenty meters long before coming to a stop, half his face pulverized.
Then the phoenix bloodline kicked in—flames erupted across his ruined features, burning away the damage until his face was whole again, as if nothing had happened.
Draconis flexed his knuckles, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
This guy was built to take a beating.
"I knew you wouldn't go down that easily."
He spoke softly, then flashed forward, grabbing Riser by the collar and hauling him upright.
A spinning kick slammed into Riser's chest, sending him flying once more.
Riser lay crumpled for a few seconds before dragging himself up, pushing his phoenix blood to the absolute limit.
His wounds vanished, replaced by eyes burning with fury and murder.
"You bastard… I'll never forgive you…"
Draconis's voice was calm, almost bored.
"I don't need your forgiveness. Throw whatever you've got—I'll take it."
He strode forward, unguarded and utterly unfazed.
To Riser, it was the ultimate insult.
He was a noble phoenix—how dare this upstart treat him with such contempt?
Riser roared, magic surging.
A torrent of flames shot skyward, coalescing into a phoenix totem that dove at Draconis with monstrous force.
Any high-class devil would have flinched.
The flaming phoenix crashed through the air, its bulk dwarfing Draconis—he looked like a speck of dust in a hurricane.
But Draconis didn't budge.
He stood his ground, letting the fire swallow him whole.
Flames raged, engulfing him—but not a hair was singed.
Some mysterious power shimmered around him—no matter how the fire attacked, it couldn't touch him.
With Citadel of Endless Dusk active, Draconis was locked in stasis.
His body, his state—fixed, untouchable, until the ability faded.
He walked out of the inferno, step by step, not even a strand of hair out of place.
Riser stared, slack-jawed.
Impossible.
Refusing to accept it, Riser gathered magic again.
This time, power flared in rainbow hues, and wings of near-solid fire unfurled behind him.
He unleashed everything—an attack fiercer than any before.
"I hate to admit it, but you really are a monster now. I'm actually scared. But I don't care anymore—burn to ash in hellfire before your master's eyes!"
In ancient legend, Riser's kind were called phoenixes, immortal firebirds whose flames could burn through dragon scales—creatures meant to stand toe-to-toe with dragons.
Among the onlookers, the heavyweights exchanged glances.
"Finally using hellfire. No earthly impurity can resist that."
"Heh, that reincarnated devil's gotten cocky. Maybe he needs a lesson. Just make sure he doesn't actually die."
They watched the broadcast, eyes gleaming with interest.
A dual-class Evil Piece—no one had ever seen it before.
In centuries of devil history, Draconis was the first.
They'd protect him—if only to study what made him different.
This could change everything.
Inside the alternate dimension, Draconis narrowed his eyes.
He faced the hellfire head-on, feeling its terror.
Without Citadel of Endless Dusk, he'd have no answer for it.
But he'd prepared for this.
From the start, he'd planned how to counter Riser.
The clone made things easier, but even without it, he'd have found a way—though at a cost.
Now, with the Citadel active, there was no suspense.
Hellfire swept over him, and every spectator watched, expecting a spectacle.
But their smiles froze.
Draconis was untouched.
Expression unchanged, he walked through the inferno, step by step, straight toward Riser.
In stasis, even hellfire couldn't touch him.
"Impossible! Everyone has sin, everyone has karma—hellfire should burn anyone. How can you…"
Riser was finally panicking.
As Draconis approached, Riser's bravado cracked.
"You—you need to think this through! My marriage to Rias is for the future of the devil race. You have potential, sure. Once I'm Rias's husband, I'll train you, help you become a top-tier fighter. That'll be our shared glory!"
Draconis tilted his head, almost pitying.
"…You really don't get it, do you?"
His voice was low, even gentle, but it squeezed the air tight.
"What?"
"Devil glory? Honestly, I couldn't care less."
Draconis put a hand on Riser's shoulder, patting him like a friend.
"I'm just a reincarnated devil. I don't get the pure-blood obsession, so I don't care. If you want to keep your bloodline pure, go ahead—I've never opposed it."
"Then why—" Riser tried, but Draconis raised a hand, silencing him.
"The reason's simple. Rias doesn't like you."
His grip tightened, fingers digging into Riser's shoulder.
"She doesn't like you. Marrying you won't make her happy. Is that clear enough?"
"If you want pure-blood devils, go find one who actually likes you. Don't force Rias—a girl who doesn't want you."
His hand squeezed harder, pain twisting Riser's face.
Draconis's words stayed calm, but his right fist rose, magic swirling around it.
"Pure-blood devil, high-class devil—none of that matters. To me, Rias is just a girl who needs help."
"You self-righteous bastards—what gives you the right to decide someone else's lifelong happiness?"
He finished, and his fist crashed into Riser, blasting half his body into bloody mist.
Bang.
Riser's side exploded—blood and fire and silence.
—
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