The ORC clubroom felt smaller than usual.
Maybe it was Grayfia Lucifuge standing at the center like a silver blade. Silver hair falling perfectly despite having just teleported. Silver eyes that missed nothing. Maybe it was the twelve magic circles that had flared to life around her, each depositing another figure into the already-crowded space.
Maybe it was the heat.
Actual, physical heat radiating from the man who'd appeared last. Flames licked the air around him before fading to nothing. The temperature in the room had jumped ten degrees in an instant.
Or maybe it was the way he looked at Rias.
Like he already owned her.
Riser Phenex stood amid his peerage like a king surveying conquered territory. Blond hair swept back from a face that belonged on a magazine cover. Cocky smile permanently fixed in place. Suit jacket open to reveal a chest he clearly expected everyone to admire.
Gold buttons caught the light. A phoenix emblem glittered at his collar.
Behind him, fifteen women arranged themselves in formation. Beautiful. Dangerous. Devoted. Each wore some variation of Phenex colors. Each moved with the practiced grace of someone who'd trained for combat since childhood.
A purple-haired woman with an explosive aura. A small blonde who looked barely older than Koneko. Twins with matching chainsaw weapons. A catgirl. A swordswoman. A martial artist.
Fifteen. He'd brought his entire peerage. To a meeting.
Show of force. Pure intimidation.
And from the way Kiba had tensed beside me, it was working.
"Ah, there she is." Riser's voice was oil and fire mixed together. Smooth and dangerous. "My bride."
Rias's hands trembled at her sides. Not fear. Fury.
I could see her knuckles whitening as she clenched her fists. Crimson power flickered briefly before she suppressed it.
Her hands only shake when she's this angry. I noted the observation. Then stopped. When had I learned that?
"Lord Riser." Rias's voice was steady. The trembling didn't reach it. "I've told you. The engagement is-"
"Still valid." Grayfia stepped forward, and the room's temperature dropped ten degrees. Silver hair. Silver eyes. Silver precision. "Lady Rias, Lord Riser. I am here as neutral arbiter, not advocate. The engagement contract signed by both houses remains in effect."
"A child's signature," Rias said. "I was ten."
"A child's word is still a word." Riser spread his hands, magnanimous. "Your parents agreed. My parents agreed. The Great King Faction supports it. The marriage strengthens devil society."
He smiled. All teeth.
"What's one little princess's comfort against that?"
Princess. The way he said it. Diminishing. Dismissive. Like she was a thing to be owned.
I stepped forward before thinking.
Kiba's hand caught my shoulder. Subtle. Warning.
Not yet.
Right. Politics. Ancient devil politics I didn't understand. Rules that could get us all killed if I broke them wrong.
I stayed.
Riser prowled the room like he owned it. Which, in his mind, he probably did.
"Such a lovely little setup you have here, Rias." He trailed fingers along the couch, then wrinkled his nose. "Quaint. Provincial. But I suppose Kuoh is charming in its way. A nice retreat from the real Underworld."
His peerage laughed. Quiet. Practiced. Perfectly synchronized.
"I'll be keeping my territory," Rias said flatly.
"Of course, of course." Riser waved a dismissive hand. "After the wedding, you can visit whenever you like. The Phenex estate has portals to everywhere. You'll want for nothing."
"Except freedom."
"Freedom is a human concept." Riser's eyes flickered with genuine confusion. "You're a devil. A pure-blooded Gremory. Your duty is to your bloodline, not to whatever adventures you've been having here."
His gaze swept the room, cataloging us.
"A former nun. A nekomata. A trauma case. And..."
His eyes landed on me.
For a moment, nothing.
Then: "Ah. The new one." He cocked his head, studying me like I was furniture. "The Pawn Sirzechs mentioned. The one who fought fallen angels."
I met his stare. Didn't blink.
"That's me."
"How cute."
[PHOENIX ANALYSIS: ACTIVE]
[TARGET: Riser Phenex]
[Power Level: 85]
[Regeneration: EXTREME - Apparent immortality]
[Hidden Data: Regeneration pool finite. Depletes under sustained damage.]
[Tactical Note: Standard attacks futile. Must exceed regeneration rate.]
The Fragment's gift from last night hummed behind my eyes. I saw Riser. Really saw him. The flame at his core, eternal and hungry. The regeneration that made him effectively immortal.
But not infinite.
The Phoenix Analysis showed me the limit. Somewhere, deep in that fire, there was a bottom to the well. Hit him hard enough, fast enough, long enough, and the flames would die.
Not that it mattered. His power level was eighty-five. More than triple mine.
Standard attacks futile.
Riser had already dismissed me. He turned back to Rias.
"Your brother thinks highly of you, you know. Talks about your 'potential' constantly. Such faith. Such..." He smiled. "Sentimentality. But then, Sirzechs always was soft on family."
"Lord Riser." Grayfia's voice cut through like frost. "We are here to discuss terms, not trade insults."
"Terms?" Riser laughed. "What terms? The contract is signed. The families agree. There are no terms to discuss. Only a date to set."
He spread his arms wide.
"I was thinking next month. Spring weddings are traditional."
"No."
Rias's voice was quiet. Absolute.
Riser's smile flickered.
"Excuse me?"
"I said no." She stepped forward, and I felt her power stir. That crimson destruction that lived in her blood. "I don't care what contracts were signed. I don't care what the Great King Faction wants. I am Rias Gremory, and I will not be traded like property."
Silence.
Then Riser laughed. Not the polite chuckle from before. A real laugh. Loud and incredulous and somehow more insulting than anything he'd said so far.
"You are property," he said, still laughing. "Your bloodline is property. Your power is property. Even that pretty face is property, leveraged against your family's political debts."
He stepped closer. I smelled sulfur and ash.
"Do you think love matters? Do you think your feelings factor into centuries of alliance?"
The purple-haired woman behind him - his Queen, I realized, the one with the explosive aura - smiled. Cold and knowing.
I moved.
Between them. Between Riser Phenex and his property. My back to Rias, facing a power level thirty-three points above mine. Facing flames that could reduce me to ash in seconds.
"She said no."
Riser blinked. Then his smile returned, wider and more amused than before.
"And who," he asked pleasantly, "are you?"
"Her Pawn."
"How adorable." He looked past me to Rias. "Is this the one who killed fallen angels? The one Sirzechs was so interested in?"
His gaze returned to me. Reassessing. More focus now. Less dismissal.
"I see some fire in you, boy. But you're what, Level twelve? Thirteen at best? I could crush you without breaking a sweat."
"Probably." I didn't move. "She still said no."
His Queen laughed. A low, musical sound.
"Bold. Yubelluna, do you think he actually believes he could stop Lord Riser?"
"I think he's going to die entertainingly," another woman answered. She wore a staff across her back and had the look of someone who'd seen a lot of people die.
Riser raised a hand, silencing them. His eyes never left mine.
"Loyalty. I do appreciate loyalty." He tilted his head. "Tell me, Pawn. Do you understand what you're facing? The Phenex bloodline predates recorded history. Our flames burn eternal. I have died and been reborn more times than you've drawn breath."
He smiled.
"Your courage is admirable. Your delusion is not."
The Fragment stirred.
"Interesting choice."
"Suicidal. But interesting."
Not suicidal. Just stupid.
But I couldn't move. Couldn't step aside. Because Rias was behind me and her hands were shaking. Something in my chest - something that wasn't quite me - couldn't tolerate that.
Riser's eyes narrowed. For a moment, something almost like respect flickered there. Then it was gone, replaced by amusement.
"Grayfia," he said, not looking away from me. "I tire of this farce. My bride's little rebellion has been entertaining, but I have matters to attend to in the Underworld."
He waved a dismissive hand.
"Invoke the clause."
The silver-haired maid inclined her head. Expression perfectly neutral.
"As neutral arbiter between House Gremory and House Phenex, I am authorized to offer an alternative resolution under Section Forty-Seven of the engagement contract."
She paused.
"A Rating Game."
Rating Game.
I'd heard the term. Devil combat sport. Formalized battles between peerages, with rules and points and predetermined victory conditions. The Underworld's answer to war. A way to settle disputes without actually killing valuable pure-bloods.
Akeno had mentioned it once. Said it was like chess, if chess pieces could bleed.
"The terms," Grayfia continued, her voice like winter wind, "would be as follows: Lady Rias's peerage against Lord Riser's. Full-team elimination format. If Lady Rias wins, the engagement contract is voided. If Lord Riser wins..."
She paused.
"The wedding proceeds immediately."
Immediately. Not next month. Not next week. Immediately.
Riser's smile widened.
"Acceptable." He didn't even hesitate. "I have fifteen pieces, all trained since birth. My Bomb Queen alone has more Rating Game victories than Rias's entire peerage combined."
He spread his arms.
"This will be entertaining."
"There is a mandatory preparation period," Grayfia added. "Standard Rating Game rules grant both parties-"
"Ten days," Riser interrupted. "I'll give her ten days."
His smile widened.
"I'm generous like that. The great and powerful Gremory heir should have at least a week to teach her servants which end of the sword to hold, yes?"
His peerage laughed again. The Bomb Queen. The twins. The martial artist. All of them, perfectly synchronized. Perfectly mocking.
Ten days.
To prepare for a team that had trained together for decades.
Rias stepped around me. Her hands had stopped shaking. In their place was something colder. Harder. The King I'd seen face down fallen angels.
"I accept."
Riser laughed.
"Perfect! Ten days to prepare your little group for slaughter." He turned, snapping his fingers. His peerage fell into formation behind him with practiced precision. "I look forward to it, my bride. Try not to disappoint me too badly."
Fire swirled. Magic circles appeared beneath his feet and his peerage's. The heat in the room spiked, then vanished.
"Oh, and Rias?" He glanced back, already half-faded into the transport. "The new one. The Pawn with the attitude."
Another smile. Predatory and amused.
"Bring him to the Game. I want to see his face when he watches you lose."
Then they were gone. Flame and teleportation, leaving nothing but heat haze and the smell of sulfur.
Grayfia remained a moment longer. Her eyes swept the room. Rias's rigid posture. My clenched fists. The barely-contained lightning crackling around Akeno's fingers.
"I will ensure the formal terms are filed with both houses," she said. "Lady Rias... Lord Sirzechs sends his regards."
A pause.
"And his faith."
Then she, too, vanished in a flicker of silver magic.
Silence.
The kind of silence that came after bombs fell. After the fire stopped. After there was nothing left but ash and the weight of what came next.
Akeno was the first to move. Already preparing tea with hands that crackled faintly with suppressed lightning. Her smile was gone. The first time I'd seen her without that practiced mask.
Kiba stood by the window. Hand touching the scar on his palm. A gesture I'd seen but never understood. Some old wound I'd ask about when we weren't facing annihilation.
Koneko had positioned herself near Asia. Small and tense and ready.
Asia's hands were clasped in prayer. Old habits. The light in her fingers suggested she was doing more than just praying. She was checking everyone for injuries that hadn't happened yet.
And Rias stood in the center of the room. Staring at the space where Riser had been.
"We're going to lose."
Her voice was flat. Not defeated. Just stating fact. The way you'd say water was wet or fire burned.
"Rias-" Akeno began.
"Don't." Rias turned. Her eyes were dry, but I could see the cost of keeping them that way. "Fifteen pieces. All trained for Rating Games since childhood. Riser himself is a Phenex. He regenerates from anything short of complete molecular destruction."
She shook her head.
"His Queen alone could probably take our entire peerage. We have ten days and half a roster."
"Ara ara." Akeno's voice was soft. "Half a roster that defeated fallen angels."
"Raynare's group was disorganized. Desperate. Riser's peerage is neither." Rias closed her eyes. "They've fought in twelve Rating Games. Won ten. The two losses were to peerage champions with centuries of experience."
"Then we train harder," I said.
Everyone looked at me.
Rias looked at me. Something flickered in her expression. Hope, maybe. Or exasperation. Or both. Maybe annoyance that I didn't understand how hopeless this was.
"You don't understand. Riser has been Rating Game champion in his bracket for decades. His strategies are flawless. His peerage covers every tactical angle. Fire support. Close combat. Healing. Crowd control."
She shook her head.
"Ten days isn't enough. Ten months wouldn't be enough."
"Then we'll find a way to win anyway."
The words came out before I could stop them. Stupid. Arrogant. Empty bravado against an enemy I'd just watched walk through our defenses like they weren't there.
But something cold burned in my chest. Cold rage that wasn't entirely mine.
I'd felt Rias's fury when Riser dismissed her. Felt it echo through whatever connection we shared. Whatever piece of her the Fragment had absorbed. And now that fury had mixed with something else. Something older. Darker.
The Fragment's memory of beings who thought themselves immortal.
The Phoenix Analysis humming behind my eyes. Showing me the truth beneath the legend.
Regeneration pool finite. Depletes under sustained damage.
"We'll find a way," I repeated. Quieter. More certain. "He's not immortal. He just thinks he is. Every Phoenix has a limit. We just have to find it."
"...and hit it hard enough," Koneko added quietly. First words she'd spoken since Riser arrived. She was watching me with something that might have been respect. "Repeatedly."
"It would take more damage than any of us can output," Kiba said. But his hand had dropped from his scar. "The sustained assault required to exhaust a Phenex's regeneration... theoretically possible. Practically..."
He shook his head.
"Theoretically possible is enough to start with," Akeno said. Her smile had returned. Not the practiced one, but something sharper. More dangerous. "I've been wanting to test my limits. Ten days seems like excellent motivation."
Rias studied me. For a long moment, no one spoke. The weight of ten days pressed down on all of us. The impossibility of it. The absurdity of even trying.
Then something changed in her eyes. Not hope, exactly. Not confidence. Something more fragile than either.
Decision.
"The Gremory training grounds. In the mountains." She straightened, and something of the King I'd seen face down fallen angels returned to her bearing. The trembling was gone. In its place, steel. "We leave tomorrow at dawn. Akeno, contact my brother. We'll need the estate unlocked and stocked for extended training. Kiba, prepare the gear. Training weapons. Combat supplies. Medical kits."
"I'll have everything ready by midnight," Kiba said. Already moving. Purpose replacing despair.
"Koneko, Asia..." Rias paused. "Rest. You'll need it."
"...already rested," Koneko said. But she nodded anyway.
Asia clasped her hands tighter. "I'll pray for us."
"Pray if you want." Rias's voice was gentle. "But train harder. We're going to need your healing more than any god's blessing."
Everyone moved. The clubroom that had felt like a prison moments ago became a command center. People with purpose. People with plans.
I stayed where I was. Watching Riser's peerage materialize behind my eyes. Fifteen pieces. Fifteen trained killers with decades of Rating Game experience. A Bomb Queen who could level buildings. A regenerating immortal at their head.
And somewhere in the Fragment's gift, a weakness I'd need ten days to exploit.
The Fragment stirred again.
"The Phoenix approaches. And now you understand his fire."
"Understanding is not victory."
"But it is a beginning."
Beginning. Right. Beginning with a power gap of thirty-three levels and odds that made our fight against Raynare look like a training exercise.
But Rias was moving now. Issuing orders. Her hands steady.
And something in my chest - the part that wasn't quite me anymore - refused to let that determination be wasted.
Ten days. Against an immortal Phoenix with a full peerage. Against centuries of political expectation. Against a power level more than triple my own.
I looked at Rias. At her trembling hands finally still. At the tears she wouldn't let fall. At the King who'd chosen to fight even when fighting meant almost certain defeat.
"Ten days," I said. "That's enough."
It wasn't. We both knew it.
But what choice did we have?