Inside the luxurious preparation room, everyone was gathered around a table laden with tea and pastries.
"How disappointing… I thought Odin was an exception, but it turns out the others are no different. How do guys like that even become chief gods?"
Holding a steaming cup of tea, Yoru spoke with an exasperated smile.
"Well, that's just how it is. Gods with eternal life would suffocate if they stayed uptight forever. So most gods and devils find their own hobbies. For example, I developed an interest in Sacred Gear research."
Azazel's words weren't boasting—he was the Governor of the Fallen Angels, a name no less weighty than those chief gods. But his expression quickly soured.
"Of course, there are exceptions—like the Norse evil god Loki you met, or that skeleton old man earlier… These types cling to their so-called dignity, refuse peace talks, and are a pain to deal with! If only they could all be a little more easygoing!"
Azazel's distaste for war was obvious. Under his leadership, the Fallen Angels' bad reputation had long since faded.
"Well, uncooperative people can just be removed. We don't have dirt on him yet, but if we get some, I'll have no problem dealing with him."
Yoru swirled his tea confidently. Azazel had long since gotten used to this kind of overconfidence.
"It's not your strength I doubt—it's just that Hades is an important figure in the Greek pantheon. Even if they knew he was connected to the Khaos Brigade, the Greek gods wouldn't just hand him over."
"Then we could just wipe out the entire Greek pantheon."
"See, this is what I mean… You go too far sometimes. Don't say things like that so casually."
"I know. If I did that, I'd be no different from the Khaos Brigade, and I don't want to be branded a terrorist."
He spoke lazily, then let a sly smile creep onto his face.
"Relax. If Hades keeps opposing me, I'll just take him out quietly. If the Greeks won't hand him over, we'll just make sure they never know how he died."
"Fine, do as you like. Just make it clean—don't leave any evidence, or we'll be in trouble too."
Azazel shook his head in resignation, essentially giving his approval.
After a brief rest, it was finally time for them to appear. Rias stood with confidence, raising her hand to address her team.
"Is everyone ready?!"
"Yes!!!"
With Rias's spirited call, her peerage clenched their fists, determination blazing in their eyes.
"Good! This fight means a lot, but all we need to do is focus on our own battles. No matter what happens in the match, defeat the enemy in front of you—that's the only goal! Understood?"
"Yes!!!"
"Then get ready! We're up soon, and there'll be a huge crowd—don't let it scare you!"
Even as she spoke, the arena outside erupted with a roar that shook the ground.
"And now, the battle of the century begins! Entering from the east gate—Sairaorg Bael's team!"
The magically amplified announcement echoed through the entire venue, and the moment Sairaorg's side appeared, the cheers exploded like a tidal wave.
The noise was loud enough to reach even their preparation area.
"I… I'm so nervous!"
"It's fine, Asia. Just stay in the back and focus on healing."
Gently patting Asia's tense face, Yoru was probably the most relaxed of them all. To him, this fight was just a game.
The announcer's voice rang out again.
"And now, from the west gate—Rias Gremory's team!!!"
The atmosphere ignited once more, the deafening cheers giving the nervous girls enough courage to straighten their backs.
"Come on, don't overthink it. We can't let the enemy see us cowering! Let's go, my dear servants—let's win this!"
"Yes!!!!"
Led by Rias, the entire peerage walked out of the tunnel into the blinding lights.
"And now, would the Gremory peerage please proceed to your positions."
At the host's cue, everyone looked to the center of the arena. Two massive floating rock platforms hung in the air—Sairaorg and his peerage stood on the eastern platform.
Ascending the spiral staircase to their own platform, the Gremory team was greeted by the sight of a man in lavish attire with a headset mic, his image broadcast on the enormous magic screen overhead.
"Good evening, everyone! Tonight's match will be brought to you live by me—Naudwood Carmikin of the former 72 Pillars' House of Carmikin!"
The crowd erupted in cheers once again—having such a well-known figure provide live commentary was thrilling for the audience.
"Tonight's judge will be Diehauser Belial!"
A silver-haired young man appeared from a magic circle in the air, exuding elegance. Diehauser Belial, ranked 7th in the Rating Games—a former human reincarnated into a high-class devil, and the only one in the top ten to have done so.
"And as our special guest commentator—we are honored to have the Governor of the Fallen Angels, Lord Azazel!"
The magic screen showed a familiar face.
"Not at all, it's my pleasure."
"Lord Azazel is well-known for his close ties with Lord Sirzechs and other faction leaders, as well as for his expertise in Sacred Gear research. As the Gremory team's special advisor, what are your thoughts on tonight's match?"
"Well, I just hope things don't get too out of hand. It'd be best if both sides kept it friendly."
Azazel shrugged as he spoke. Yoru knew exactly who he was talking about—he glanced at Rias, then at the God-slaying Wolf, Fenrir, standing beside her.
Right… he had almost forgotten about that wolf. Maybe he wouldn't even need to lift a finger—this was already going to be a tough fight for the other side.
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