Kuoh Academy.A quiet autumn morning where the mundane students bustled unaware that devils walked among them. For most, today was just another school day. For Riser Phenex, heir of the immortal Phoenix clan, it was the beginning of a personal conquest.
His long coat swayed behind him as he walked through the academy gates, ignoring the stares from the human students who whispered at his otherworldly aura. His golden eyes scanned the campus with an edge of curiosity—but not for the one he was "supposed" to meet.
"The Gremory heiress, Rias… tsk. A vase with a beautiful frame but nothing inside. Not worth my time today."
He chuckled to himself, brushing aside the faint irritation of the arranged marriage. Instead, his stride carried him toward the Student Council room. His target was different—more rational, more deserving.
When he pushed open the doors, the atmosphere inside immediately shifted. The Student Council sat around their desks, Sona Shitori at the head, her glasses glinting as she looked up in surprise. Her peerage tensed at the sudden arrival of a devil noble radiating power.
"Phenex…" Sona's calm voice cut through the murmurs. "This is unexpected. You are supposed to be here for Rias, not for me."
Riser gave a mocking bow, his phoenix flames faintly licking at the edges of his coat as his Haki leaked in subtle waves—pressure that made lesser devils in the room feel stiff.
"Lady Sitri," he said smoothly, his voice confident and sharp. "I came not for that spoiled child, but for you. They say you only acknowledge a man who defeats you in chess, do they not?"
Sona narrowed her eyes. She had heard many arrogant words in her time, but there was something different in his tone. Not empty bravado, but a mix of will and… sincerity.
"You… want to challenge me? To chess?" she asked cautiously.
"To chess," Riser confirmed, stepping closer, his gaze locking with hers. "Because if I am to choose a wife, it should be the most ideal noblewoman in the Underworld. Independent, intelligent, and worthy of respect. And if I am being honest…" He allowed a rare smirk. "I find myself liking you a little, Sitri."
His blunt confession startled her peerage, murmurs rippling through the room. Sona, however, kept her composure. Her heart beat faster, but her face remained cool.
"…And what of your engagement with Rias?" she finally asked.
That broke Riser's restraint. He laughed—loud and sharp, flames sparking at the edges of his armor. His laughter wasn't the hollow arrogance many expected. It carried scorn and amusement in equal measure.
"Rias Gremory? Forgive me if I sound rude to your best friend, but tell me, Sitri… what is she worth?"
The room chilled at his words, but Riser pressed forward, his eyes burning.
"She disdains me, looks down on me. But what has she ever done to deserve that confidence? Has she ever won a Rating Game? No. Has she ever supported her clan? No. Has she contributed anything to the Underworld? No! She is nothing but a spoiled little girl—" his voice hardened, "—a vase, with a pretty face and figure, and nothing else."
He leaned in slightly, his golden eyes piercing through Sona's glasses.
"She has no power, no achievements, no dreams to serve our world. Without her family name and her brother, the Maou Lucifer, she is nothing. Do you know the only Gremory I respect? Sirzechs himself. He has earned his place. The rest? Nothing but shadows under his wings."
Sona's peerage bristled at the venom, but Riser's Haki kept them frozen, the weight of his will pressing down.
"And your friend, the so-called heiress, hides behind illusions of freedom. Never awake to the reality of what it means to be a noble in the Underworld. Never awake to responsibility. She is—" his lips curled, "—truly just a big chest with no brains."
The room went dead silent. Even Sona flinched slightly, not from the insult itself, but because she could not immediately deny the harsh truth behind his words.
Then, as his words settled, Riser straightened, his laughter fading back into composed confidence.
"…But you, Sitri—you are different. You built your peerage, nurtured it, led it with discipline. You already understand the weight of leadership. If I am to claim someone as my wife, it should be you—not some child living in a dream."
Sona inhaled slowly, regaining her composure. Her voice returned sharp and cool:
"…Then prove it. Sit. Let us play chess."
A faint smile tugged at Riser's lips. He walked toward the board with the air of a king approaching his throne.
The Phoenix had made his choice.
And this time, the game of fate would not begin in the Occult Research Club—it would begin on a chessboard, under the cold and calculating gaze of Sona Sitri.