{Present, Gremory Mansion}
"T-Thank you."
It was fun seeing a powerful lord looking so powerless, helplessly staring at the vial.
What wasn't fun was the bleeding. To fill the vial, I had to make a decent cut, and I'd been cutting myself a bit too often lately. Sure, it healed immediately, but that didn't make it any less unpleasant.
"How do we… use it?" It was Sairaorg who asked, still holding doubt about curing the incurable.
And that was fair. He wasn't at the meeting to know.
I showed him my palm as it began to heal.
"I am not a Phenex," I pointed out, the healing of my palm without using magic proof enough of my words. "To use the blood, pour it in her mouth and make sure it goes inside her body. It should assimilate into her blood and cure the disease."
To sell it better, I had to take Ingvild's help.
When I looked at her, she stepped forward. "I also suffered from the Devil's Sleeping Disease, and I was asleep for almost a century. It was his blood that woke me up."
She looked at me with a grateful smile. I loved how witty and quick she was at reading the situation. She backed me up perfectly.
"S-So, my mother can really be cured?" Sairaorg still struggled to believe me, but Lord Bael seemed eager to take the vial home.
"He is more than capable of that, boy," the Lord said, silencing his son. "This vial is the greatest medicine. Not even Phoenix Tears come close to it."
Did Phoenix Tears help recover demonic power? If they did, then my blood was lacking in that one aspect.
"Thank you, Faiser." He spoke sincerely, holding onto the vial like his life depended on it. "I cannot pay you enough for this."
He didn't have to.
"Just support my potion business and I'll be more than happy to supply another vial or two." I didn't want to bleed more, but there was no victory without pain.
"Do not worry about that," he assured. "I will use my connections and routes to help you." He glanced at his son. "Then, I guess we should get going."
"Already?"
It was Rias. She had returned after helping Venelana. Venelana herself came back with Grayfia, carrying a tray filled with baked biscuits and tea.
"You should stay a while. It isn't often someone from the Bael pillar visits our house." Venelana's soft voice carried just a touch of sarcasm.
He looked hesitant. "Well…" He glanced at Sairaorg, then at me.
Oh, so that's why he brought Sairaorg.
"I'm fine," the Bael heir said. "Though Father hasn't had breakfast yet."
Yes, that was exactly why he brought him.
And I didn't mind his plan. If anything, I wanted to meet Sairaorg sooner or later.
"Then, would you like to take a walk outside?" I asked him. "I can see Rias is more than excited to meet you after so long."
The girl blushed slightly, embarrassed at being called out. But it was true—she was too social for her own good. Almost exhausting. Which meant she'd make a good Lord one day. Being a Lord was mostly about maintaining social ties anyway.
"Ah, yes," Zeoticus nodded. "It's been years since you last came here. Why don't you spend some time with your cousin and Faiser? You're all about the same age anyway."
"If that's fine with you, Father." The boy asked Lord Bael as if it hadn't been the man's plan from the very start.
"Oh, certainly. Just make sure not to be a bother."
Their dynamic was confusing. At times, it looked like Sairaorg hated his father, and Lord Bael treated his son like a tool. And yet, here he was, nearly in tears, desperate for a cure for his wife.
So which was the real Lord Bael?
"Then let's take a walk," Rias suggested eagerly. "We have a newly built fountain in the backyard."
When you were worth half the world's GDP, you could afford little things like backyard fountains.
"Ingvild," I called for my queen. They might leave their queens anywhere, but I didn't.
She smiled softly and walked by my side. Queens usually stayed a step behind their masters, but I didn't care for such formalities.
"So, how come you never visited us after becoming heir?" Rias asked, standing to my left while Sairaorg kept his distance to my right. "I remember us playing as kids, but you stopped visiting after becoming heir."
She hesitated before asking the next part. "I did hear about the things you had to go through, but that didn't stop you from visiting me before. So… what changed after you became heir?"
He clearly wasn't comfortable answering with me there, and I couldn't help him with that.
"Things… changed. Being the Bael heir without possessing the bloodline ability wasn't easy. To maintain this position, I had to bury myself in studies about politics, devil dynamics, and spend even longer each day training." He sighed. "Because of my condition, I have to work twice as hard just to achieve half the results of a regular pure-blood devil."
Maybe he wasn't lying. He was a tall guy, even taller than me, and I wasn't short either. His muscles were visible through his tunic, carved like stone.
He had worked hard—trained for days and nights, possibly without rest.
"I didn't even realize when months passed, when years went by." He seemed sincere. "And the rest of the time I had, I spent looking for peerage members, building a group that could stand alongside me."
Peerage was the core of the devil world. The Leviathan walking beside me, standing between me and Sairaorg, was proof of that.
"Oh, I did hear you found a really strong member for your peerage. Was it your pawn?" Rias asked, recalling something she must have heard.
As for the pawn, I knew exactly who she meant.
The Nemean Lion—the Longinus spirit given physical form and reincarnated as his pawn. Before I learned about that, I didn't even know such a thing was possible.
"I was lucky." He seemed humble, though a little reserved. Different from how I remembered him.
Then again, his situation was different now.
"I did hear about your condition," I finally joined in. "Seeing how much you've trained your body, I don't think you'd lose to any High-Class devil."
He was a monster.
[Race: Pure-Blood Devil]
[Rank: Ultimate-Class]
One would think Ultimate Class was easy to reach, considering the powerhouses I'd been meeting or surrounded by.
But no. Only a devil who truly worked hard could explain just how insane Sairaorg's achievement was.
It made sense. He was called the strongest of the Non-Satan Generation, the next generation of devil leaders.
"I heard you're an Ultimate Class as well." He smiled confidently. "And you taking down Katerea Leviathan—that's not something just any Ultimate Class devil can do."
There was some truth in that. Every class had tiers, and Katerea had centuries of experience over me. She should've been stronger.
And she was. It's just that my abilities aren't fair.
"So, I was the last to hear about you killing Katerea Leviathan?" Rias sounded annoyed.
"I only learned recently from my father, cousin." Sairaorg chuckled, looking more at ease without his father around. "But I do admire that feat. It's an amazing achievement. I don't think I could have done that."
Rias nodded in agreement. But she was mistaken.
Sure, she would've been killed instantly by Katerea, but Sairaorg was different. He was selling himself short, or maybe just being overly humble.
Katerea would've been a tough opponent for him, but with his pawn… she wouldn't have won.
That's how much of a monster he is—and that's without relying on magic.
"Be honest," I smiled at him. "You're not really interested in this tour, are you?"
Maybe if it was another heir, sure. But Sairaorg? He didn't care how other devils decorated their houses. The disinterest was written all over his face.
"Well…" He looked awkward at being caught, which surprised Rias.
"You could have said so!" She sighed. "We could've done something else. I even got some limited-edition games from the human world."
She was addicted to games and anime.
"Games are nice," I admitted. "But how about something better?"
That made me curious. "Such as?"
Ingvild, who had been silent all this time, finally spoke. "Are you sure the Lord and Lady Gremory will be okay with that?"
She hadn't known me long, but she was already getting used to the way I thought.
"Don't worry, I won't overdo it."
"What are you suggesting?" Rias asked, curious too.
"Well…" I cracked my neck. "It's been a while since I had an actual fight. Sorry, Rias. But I'd love to see how the heir of Bael, an Ultimate Class fighter, fights."
This caught him off guard. He looked confused for a second.
"You… aren't kidding?" He seemed amazed at my serious look. "You want to fight?"
I could tell his father had sent him here to make friends with me. From the Bael pillar's point of view, that was beneficial. And honestly, I didn't mind being friends with Sairaorg either.
And what better way than a brawl to establish friendship?
For the first time, I saw him grin. Like a feral beast, eager to bare his fangs.
"No going back on your words." He grinned wildly.
* * *
{Gremory Training Ground}
—Sairaorg Bael—
When his father asked him to win over Faiser, he didn't expect much. He knew it wasn't easy for him to make friends with snobbish heirs, and things only got worse when he heard Faiser talking to his father about his potion business.
He figured Faiser was more of a politician, a businessman — a field where he himself was poor at. So he expected to fail at establishing a friendship.
Still, he hoped to find some common ground while walking. But who would have guessed that Faiser would end up suggesting his favorite thing?
A brawl.
"This does not seem smart," Rias complained, standing outside the training ground.
"Agreed." Even his queen didn't seem too happy with the idea.
But Faiser had the same mentality as him.
"There's no better way for two guys to connect than by throwing hands," he said with a grin. "Don't you agree?"
"I do." Sairaorg couldn't agree more. "But are you sure about not using two of your abilities?"
He did feel a little disrespected hearing that Faiser would be skipping out on two of his abilities, but he couldn't force him. He still had to make friends with him.
"It's not that I don't want to," Faiser explained. "It's that I can't. One skill can only be used to kill, not to fight. And the other doesn't suit a brawl or a duel."
"If that's the case…" If those skills weren't suited for fighting properly, then there was no point using them. "Then that's fine."
"But," Faiser smirked, "if you're willing to show me your trump card, then I don't mind using them either."
'Does he know about the Longinus?' Sairaorg was caught off guard. 'No, that can't be. Not even Rias knows. And there's no reason to use that here, in a training session.'
"That's fine," he said, warming up his joints. "We can decide later."
"Is it fine if I use a weapon?" Faiser asked, turning his bracelet into a sword. It caught Sairaorg's interest. "Don't worry, it doesn't have any special magic effects other than changing shape. It's just like metal, nothing more."
"It's fine," he grinned. "Use whatever you want."
He was excited to see what the devil who killed a known terrorist was capable of.
"Are you both ready?" his queen asked, acting as the judge.
"Yes."
"Mhm."
"Then, begin!"
Faiser didn't waste a second. He lunged toward him, pitch-black sword in hand, swinging it directly at his face.
It was crude, without real technique, and felt desperate. Surprisingly, it was a style that worked — one that matched the wild fist style Sairaorg used.
"You're fast!" Sairaorg laughed, stopping the sword with his bare hands.
Polished styles were suited for specific situations. They had counters, and they countered other styles in turn. But wild, frenzied styles with no fixed pattern were hard to counter because they were unpredictable.
Of course, that also meant they didn't counter anything specific either. In a match like this, the one who was wilder—and quicker to figure out the other's patterns—would win.
Faiser kicked at Sairaorg's leg and used the force to push himself away from the brawler.
In terms of raw strength, Sairaorg was far superior. But because of his weight, Faiser had a slight edge in speed.
"You're strong," Faiser admitted, amazed that his sword hadn't even left a scratch.
Sairaorg grinned and decided to go on the offensive. He pushed his feet down as hard as he could, cracking the floor beneath him.
He knew he lacked speed, so he made up for it with strength.
The force under his feet propelled him forward like a bullet. He raised his fist, and if it landed, it would shatter more than concrete.
But Faiser didn't dodge. He took the hit.
"Gah!" It landed on his chest. "That's rough."
He was pushed back a few feet, but he didn't crash. He couldn't.
He had raised his defenses, finally tapping into his Ultimate Class strength and durability.
Sairaorg threw another punch, and this time Faiser dodged.
"Some punches and kicks won't cut it," Faiser reminded. Even if there was a difference between them, it wasn't enough that either couldn't block.
Fighting without using abilities or energy would always end in a draw.
Both jumped back, creating distance.
"So, are you going to get a little more serious now?" Faiser asked, as Rias and his queen looked on in awe.
Rias was only able to stand against High-Class devils, and Ingvild had just recently reached Ultimate Class, so she couldn't even think of tanking hits like those.
"I apologize," Sairaorg laughed. "Now let me fight seriously."
As he said that, he unleashed an energy Faiser didn't recognize. It wasn't demonic energy. It was something else—something new.
Sairaorg was shrouded in a golden-purple glow, similar to the signature of Faiser's pillars, but with more gold than purple.
"His strength…" Faiser heard Ingvild and Rias gasp. "It's rapidly increasing."
It wasn't just a feeling—he could see it.
The aura was violent. The ground shook and cracked beneath Sairaorg as his strength rose at monstrous speed.
He was no longer just at the base Ultimate Class level. He was amped up.
"Here I go," Sairaorg shouted, charging with his full strength. "Touki!"
Faiser could barely react. Sairaorg's speed had skyrocketed to absurd levels.
"Be careful!" Ingvild yelled.
Faiser knew he had to get serious.
He released his demonic energy, trying to match Sairaorg, but fell short.
The Bael's fist shot toward his face, forcing the Barbatos heir to rely on his abilities.
He teleported, dodging the punch, and appeared behind Sairaorg. He swung his pitch-black sword, striking him directly—
But it did nothing.
"That's weak!" Sairaorg roared, spinning and kicking at him.
Faiser teleported again, reappearing to the side. This time, he shifted his sword into a whip.
The whip lashed out, not at Sairaorg's torso but at his ankles.
Upon contact, Faiser pulled with all his strength, breaking Sairaorg's balance and sending him slipping.
The whip's connection let Faiser activate his second Barbatos ability—Traverse. In an instant, Sairaorg was teleported hundreds of meters above the training ground.
Faiser swung his whip again, wrapping it around Sairaorg and restraining his wings.
The devil came crashing down, slamming into the ground with a thunderous impact that left a crater.
Cautiously, Faiser walked toward the rising dust cloud—
That was his mistake.
"Careful!"
Through the dust, he couldn't see. It was enough cover for Sairaorg to burst through and land a punch straight to his face.
Faiser was sent flying, nose cracking as he smashed into the ground.
Sairaorg stepped out of the dust, blood on him as well. His Touki had absorbed most of the fall, but it hadn't left him unscathed.
The buffed devil charged again, fist cocked to knock Faiser out. But his opponent summoned his whip back in time, morphing it into a shield.
"Gah!"
The punch didn't break Faiser's jaw, but the shockwave was brutal, leaving him badly hurt.
Yet it wasn't without cost. The force Sairaorg used against the unbreakable shield nearly shattered his own fist.
To his surprise, Faiser teleported again, standing steady with a bloody grin. His wounds healed at a ridiculous speed.
"That item isn't fair," Sairaorg said with a dry chuckle.
"It's soul-bound. It's a part of me," Faiser countered. "And I told you—you can use everything. But you're not."
"Neither are you." Sairaorg looked at his trembling fist.
"You can't break my shield, and my healing outpaces your damage," Faiser said. "And I can't win either, not without using my full power."
Rias looked confused, but Ingvild's eyes widened.
"No!" she shouted. "Don't push yourselves so far!"
But it was already too late.
Sairaorg laughed like a madman, and Faiser's grin twisted.
"Summon!" Sairaorg roared, finally going all out. "Longinus: Regulus Nemea!"
The entire place shook as a golden glow engulfed everything.
And in that moment, Faiser's whip lashed out, wrapping around Sairaorg's right arm.
And then, he used a skill he didn't expect to use.
Causing Sairaorg's arm to hit the ground, cleanly severed.
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{A/N:A/N: Got a pat reon named RedLamp01 with 30+ chapters.
Pat reon spoiler alert: MC is finally Satan Class wohoo! And the arc ends soon. }