Since his imprisonment, he hadn't heard any news from the outside world. His communication with Le Fay had been cut off completely.
Now, rotting and silenced in this dark, desolate cell, the only form of entertainment left to him was writing.
With a pen and ink of his own making, he meticulously poured every word onto paper, weaving together his life's experiences.
Each stroke of his pen was deliberate, as though he were carving out fragments of his soul onto the pages.
Writing became his solace, a means to kill time in the void of his confinement.
He documented everything—the wild exploits of his life as a playboy, the unforgettable moments of meeting Rias and her family, and the inevitable conflict that erupted with Sirzechs Lucifer.
He recounted how it all led to him fleeing home and even touched on the humiliating rejection he faced twice from the Vienna Academy of Fine Arts, where his dreams of becoming a painter were brutally dismissed.
His battlefield memories also found a place in the book—the searing pain of being blinded by holy light, the long, lonely days spent recovering in a hospital bed.
Every event, no matter how trivial or harrowing, was recorded. Nothing was spared.
He wrote about how he met the love of his life, Le Fay Pendragon, and how she introduced him to the Old Satan Faction. She was pivotal to his rise to power, the bridge that connected him to Rizevim Lucifer.
It was Rizevim who offered him the mantle of leadership over the Old Satan Faction, a position he seized with cunning and determination, cementing himself as their de facto leader.
In those pages, he also unleashed his scorn for the current leadership of the underworld. Sirzechs Lucifer, despite his strength, was in his eyes a weak and ineffective leader.
His policies were a disaster in wartime, riddled with compromises. Sirzechs should have pressed the Angel Faction for reparations, avenged Sona Sitri's death, and exterminated the fallen angels for their treachery. Instead, his weak leadership allowed chaos to fester.
He detailed the issues plaguing the underworld, particularly the favoritism shown toward Reincarnated Devils over pure-blooded ones.
Entire clans, save for their main bloodlines, were cast aside in favor of these so-called peerages.
He raged against this decay of devilish purity, writing that Reincarnated Devils should be treated as nothing more than slaves.
Pureblood devils should remain untainted, their bloodlines preserved and uncorrupted by the inferior races that grovelled for power and immortality through reincarnation.
To him, these reincarnated devils were little more than traitorous mongrels, willing to betray their own kind for fleeting gains.
Adolf Riser, as he saw himself, had no problems about calling these creatures "inferior races." He urged his people to unite as true devils, to resist being influenced by those he deemed beneath them.
His disdain for the Reincarnated Devils and the peerage system mirrored his personal hatred for Hyoudou Issei, who he saw as the very embodiment of everything wrong with the underworld.
He suggested in his book that Sirzechs Lucifer must address this crisis immediately, ensuring that Reincarnated Devils never gained more power or influence.
The devil race, in his view, needed to reclaim its purity, power, and dominance before it was too late.
When his tirade reached its end, he scrawled the title across the cover in bold, unapologetic lettering: "Mein Kampf."
He had poured his raw, unfiltered thoughts into this work, leaving no room for sugarcoating or half-truths.
Unbeknownst to him, this book would go on to become infamous, its contents debated and reviled by future generations.
But for now, as he lay on the hard, cold bed of his prison cell, he closed his eyes with a sense of satisfaction, convinced he had created a masterpiece.
And with that, he drifted off into uneasy sleep, waiting for the next day to come.
...
The Next Day
"Riser..."
The soft voice of a girl echoed in his ears. When he opened his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of a crimson-haired girl gazing at him with a pitiful expression.
He instantly knew who the girl was.
Rias Gremory.
Yes, it was her.
His former fiancée. In the previous timeline—or perhaps even in this life—their relationship had never worked out for some reason.
It made him wonder if their fate was cursed from the very beginning.
"Rias, what do you want?" Riser regained his composure, sitting up on the hard, cold bed of his prison cell.
He crossed his arms and glared at her, his tone filled with suspicion as he questioned why she had come to see him here.
"The war is over," Rias said, her voice heavy with emotion. "Serafall was forcefully brought back to the Underworld by my brother. We lost. My brother has declared that all of our territories in the human world are to be ceded back to the humans."
"That's impossible," Riser snapped, his disbelief evident. "Sirzechs would never make such a stupid mistake."
Sirzechs Lucifer had always been an advocate for peace, but that didn't mean he was foolish. Sirzechs wouldn't sacrifice the interests of the Underworld for the sake of some naive dream of harmony.
None of this made any sense to Riser.
"He didn't make the decision lightly," Rias replied grimly. "Most of the gods from different mythologies have formed a coalition calling themselves the Allied Forces. They threatened my brother, warning they'd wipe out the entire devil race if we continued disrupting human affairs. They demanded we cede all of our lands in the human world. This happened after we killed Kokabiel and pushed the combined forces of the Fallen Angels, the Church Faction, the Hero Faction, and the Yokai Faction into a corner. They felt threatened—felt that we were becoming too strong."
Her tone grew heavier, her words laced with bitterness and regret. "It was a hard decision for my brother. But we stood no chance against them—all of them—humans, gods, fallen angels, and angels, united. They wanted us to retreat from the war and relinquish everything."
Riser clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging into his palms as a surge of anger and frustration boiled within him.
This was injustice.
They had been forced into submission by a coalition of Allied Forces, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"You're free now, Riser Phenex," Rias said, breaking the silence.
Her voice softened, but there was an unmistakable sadness in her eyes. "That's what my brother wanted me to tell you. May fortune favor you, Riser. We may no longer be fiancés in this life, but... I hope that in another life, I can find happiness with you."
With a heavy sigh, Rias turned and walked away, leaving Riser alone in his cell.
But Riser didn't feel any joy at being released.
His freedom felt meaningless, especially when his entire race had been forced to bow to the whims of their enemies.
Staring up at the cold, unforgiving ceiling, he began to ponder.
What should he do next?