Chapter 163: The Gathering Shadows and the Warning from the Great Red
"Yo, Sirzechs."
He was no longer the heir of the Gremory House. Not since assuming the mantle of Lucifer. The name Sirzechs Gremory no longer applied—he now stood as Sirzechs Lucifer, sovereign of demonic order.
By tradition, relinquishing his surname meant he'd also surrendered claim to the Gremory patriarchate. That title would one day fall to his sister.
Sirzechs gazed into the rift in the sky, a jagged tear that separated worlds. "What's the situation?" he asked, voice heavy with purpose.
Beside him, the Fallen Angel Governor Azazel exhaled. "Nothing. No turbulence. No signs of battle."
So… had the Infinite Dragon God, Ophis, been repelled again?
Possibly. But Azazel wasn't convinced it was a clash between Ophis and the Great Red this time. The shock in the dimensional rift might have stemmed from something more sinister.
"The truth is, I don't know," he admitted. "I only arrived a minute ago. Whatever happened, it's already passed."
The dimensional boundary—the Dimensional Gap—was the wall that divided realms: human, celestial, and infernal. It was said to be the space between spaces, a vacuum of utter void.
Azazel had opened a gate in one of the easiest access points. Here, the Great Red often passed in flight, safeguarding the equilibrium of all dimensions. If anyone knew what had happened, it was the dragon.
"If Michael detected that shockwave, Heaven's already investigating," Azazel added.
Sirzechs nodded. "Let's hope he brings good news."
They shared a sigh—not out of distrust toward the angel, but from the weight of their collective burden.
All three factions—Heaven, Hell, and the Fallen—longed for peace. Sirzechs, Azazel, and Michael labored endlessly to mend centuries of war. Yet among their ranks lingered hardliners and zealots—those who saw reconciliation as betrayal, and peace as weakness.
Some still dreamed of a final war. One that would finish what the last conflict couldn't.
Azazel squinted upward. "Looks like our guest is early."
A shadow passed through the sky. Ten seconds later, something massive emerged from the rift.
A crimson dragon, over a hundred meters long. Radiant. Ancient. Terrifying.
One of the two Dragon Gods.
The Great Red.
"Great—" Azazel started to call out.
But the voice that responded wasn't spoken. It rang directly in their minds.
"Mechanical incursion. Enemy: Evil God Rahu Sept. Unable to defeat. Enemy has withdrawn."
The psychic transmission sent a chill down Azazel's spine.
That was all?
Couldn't the dragon clarify?
The Great Red had never been one for conversation. Possibly incapable of it. Perhaps isolation had impaired its communication instincts—or simply rendered them irrelevant.
And just as suddenly, the dragon soared onward—its massive wings tearing open space, its body vanishing into the gap. No further explanation. No answers.
Azazel sighed. He'd long suspected the dragon couldn't linger. Its constant motion maintained the equilibrium of the gap itself. If it ever stopped, the balance might collapse.
Which was why so many opposed Ophis's return. Her prolonged contact with the mortal realm had changed her—perhaps dangerously. Some feared she'd disrupt the gap entirely if reinstated.
Sirzechs's voice dropped into a growl.
"This is bad, Azazel."
Indeed. The dragon's cryptic warning carried devastating implications.
'Mechanical incursion.'
Where? Why?
And worse—
'Evil God Rahu Sept.'
This entity had fought the Great Red. And the dragon hadn't won.
The most powerful being in the dimensional void… calling its opponent a "worthy foe"?
Unacceptable. Terrifying.
"We need to convene a Tri-Faction Summit," Sirzechs said grimly.
Azazel already had a location in mind. It was a site he'd been monitoring recently—one tied to unusual intelligence. He'd been too busy investigating Ophis to follow up.
Now, it would serve as the battleground of decisions.
And perhaps, of revelations.
Chapter 164: The Fourth Pillar Arises—Sona Shitori's Pact
Back at the Occult Research Club, the atmosphere had shifted completely.
A petite blonde with glittering twin-drill ponytails bounced on the balls of her feet, her face practically glowing with excitement. Her eyes shone as though her idol had descended from myth into arm's reach.
Reveil Phoenix—daughter of noble lineage, and by all accounts, an enemy of the divine—was giddy. Childlike. Infatuated.
She stared at the man before her: Solomon, the once-legendary King of Magic, now resurrected amid chaos.
Though she was of demonic blood and had every reason to fear him, her heart knew no such limits. This man was a living legend.
And she had a wish.
"I want to serve you," she beamed. "Let me be one of your Seventy-Two Pillars, Lord Solomon!"
"Granted," he replied without hesitation.
Reveil's twin-tails quivered—not from her movement, but as if animated by magic itself.
Solomon summoned a glowing sigil, casting it like a parchment at her feet. A mystic circle bloomed around her.
Then came the cards—dozens of them, swirling like fireflies. One expanded, hovering before her.
A vision: a burning phoenix, reborn in eternal flame.
The card shattered into motes of light that drifted into her body.
Power surged.
Reveil felt herself change—felt the bond between her and the King take root.
Rias blinked, her voice lost to disbelief. "She… She's become a High-Class Devil?"
No—not just high-class.
Reveil radiated pure demonic power. More refined than Rias's own. Like nobility forged in ancient flame.
Rias frowned. Was she falling behind?
Could she trust this man—Solomon—the one who changed fate with a single gesture?
"Lord Solomon," Revel said brightly. "I'll send my idiot brother home and return immediately. He'd just get in the way."
She finally understood why Rias and Sona had attacked him so abruptly earlier. Her brother's temperament could shatter diplomacy—and ruin the fragile chance they'd been given.
Now, though, Revel's dream had begun.
She had joined the story. Not merely as an observer—but as a chosen one.
She would stand by Solomon's side. She would become indispensable.
As the Phoenix siblings vanished, Rias released a breath, her thoughts tangled.
This world was under siege. The enemies were overwhelming.
And she… She was just a High-Class Devil.
Barely a match for the weakest of their invaders.
The feeling wasn't fear of death.
It was helplessness.
"I…" someone spoke.
It was Sona Shitori, head of Kuoh Academy and Rias's childhood friend.
She looked conflicted. Determined—but hesitant.
Then, biting her lip:
"Please… Let me become one of your Seventy-Two Pillars as well."
Rias's eyes widened.
Sona had always been reserved, tactical. Not the sort to make impulsive declarations.
But something had shifted.
Perhaps it was seeing Shinku already transformed. Perhaps it was gratitude for being spared. Or perhaps it was strategic.
Solomon's power was undeniable. The mechanical invaders had cowered before him. He could safeguard her house—her realm.
This was a decision borne of logic and faith.
Solomon smiled. "Welcome, Sona Shitori."
Their eyes met. Sona blushed slightly.
Another magic circle. Another burst of light.
And another transformation.
First—High-Class Devil.
Then—more.
"No… This is…" Rias whispered.
She felt it in her bones.
Sona's power now exceeded her own.
Not just high-class.
Devil King level.
Even Shinku, newly ascended, could sense it. Her President had surpassed her.
"You… You became a Devil King?" Rias gasped.
Sona blinked. "I… think so?"
It felt surreal.
Power like that came with responsibility—but also with danger.
She would need time to master it. Experience. Training.
"Wow. That's… tempting," said Akeno Himejima, Rias's graceful retainer.
Her tone was playful, teasing—but her eyes burned with genuine longing.
Yet she would not move without Rias's permission.
No betrayal. Not yet.
And so, as the pillar of Solomon's host grew stronger, a new chapter prepared to unfold. One in which ancient magic and modern myth would collide.
And the fate of realms would be rewritten—by those bold enough to kneel.