The silence that descended upon the invisible stands of the Underworld was so absolute it seemed to have sucked the very air out of the venue. Twenty thousand demons, from the humblest servants of minor houses to the proud patriarchs of the 72 Pillars, contemplated the scene unfolding on the magical screens with a mixture of disbelief, horror, and something many of them hadn't experienced in centuries: the birth of respect for a being they had always considered inferior.
Daniel Hernandez, the human, stood facing Riser Phenex, the immortal Phoenix.
And he hadn't broken a sweat.
He hadn't activated legendary artifacts, hadn't summoned allies, hadn't resorted to tricks or deception. He had simply walked through Riser's retinue like a hot knife through butter, taking down twelve trained demonesses with the methodical efficiency of a chess grandmaster sacrificing pawns without even blinking.
"This... this cannot be happening," murmured Lord Bael, the head of one of the oldest and most powerful houses in the Underworld, his fingers, adorned with rings of power, clawing at the arms of his seat. "A human cannot... should not..."
"But he is doing it," replied Lady Astaroth, her voice tinged with a fascination she tried in vain to hide. "And what's worse, he's doing it with an ease that suggests he hasn't even begun to try."
"You exaggerate," Bael hissed, though his eyes betrayed that he knew she wasn't exaggerating. "Riser Phenex is a high-class demon. His Phoenix fire is legendary. He can die a thousand times and be reborn just as many. That human, no matter how impressive his performance against the pawns was, has nothing against a true King."
"No?" Lady Astaroth arched an eyebrow, subtly pointing towards the screen where Daniel waited, motionless, with a patience that seemed as ancient as the mountains of the Underworld. "Then why are you trembling, Lord Bael?"
He didn't answer. He couldn't.
In the Maou's box, Sirzechs Lucifer watched with an intensity he had reserved for centuries only for the most critical confrontations. His Power of Destruction, normally contained with iron discipline, vibrated slightly beneath his skin, an involuntary response to the tension of the moment.
"He's going to win," Rias said, and her voice was so firm that Sirzechs felt a sudden, unexpected surge of pride. "I know it. He's going to win."
"So sure, little sister?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.
"Completely," she replied, and her garnet eyes never left Daniel's figure. "Because Riser fights for pride. For greed. Because he thinks he deserves to possess me like a trophy. But Daniel... Daniel fights for me. For my freedom. And that, brother, is more powerful than any Phoenix fire."
Sirzechs didn't respond. He didn't need to. Because deep down, in that remote place of his being where the Maou gave way to the older brother, he believed it too.
The wind on the reconstructed battlefield had changed.
It was no longer the artificial, controlled breeze of simulation magic; it was a wind charged with ozone and static electricity, the herald of an approaching storm. Daniel felt it on the back of his neck, in the way the small hairs on his arms stood up, in the way the Boosted Gear seemed to beat slightly faster on his left arm.
Riser Phenex descended from the sky like a golden meteor, his wings of fire casting dancing shadows over the debris of the destroyed gymnasium. His face, normally sculpted into a mask of Olympian arrogance, was contorted by a fury so pure it distorted his features almost beyond recognition.
"HUMAN," he roared, and his voice was a thunderclap that shook the windows of the surrounding buildings. "YOU PIECE OF SHIT HUMAN. YOU THINK THAT JUST BECAUSE YOU DEFEATED MY SERVANTS YOU'VE WON? YOU THINK YOU CAN FACE ME, A PHENEX, A HIGH-CLASS DEMON, A TRUE KING?"
Daniel didn't respond. He simply adopted a combat stance, his feet firmly planted on the cracked concrete, his arms relaxed but ready, his eyes—those eyes that Riser would find unsettlingly calm—fixed on the Phoenix's center of mass.
"I'M GOING TO TURN YOU TO ASHES!" Riser continued, his voice rising to an almost hysterical pitch. "I'M GOING TO BURN EVERY CELL OF YOUR BODY UNTIL NOTHING IS LEFT! AND THEN, WHEN RIAS SEES WHAT AWAITS HER IF SHE KEEPS RESISTING, SHE'LL THANK ME!"
"Are you going to attack, or just talk?" Daniel asked, his tone that of someone asking for the time at a bus stop.
Riser's roar was so intense that the flames of his wings expanded violently, carbonizing the concrete around him. And then, without warning—or rather, with the warning his Observation Haki provided three seconds before it happened—Daniel saw the future.
The attack wasn't an elaborate spell or a refined technique. It was a simple concentrated stream of fire, direct, brutal, designed to incinerate its target before they could even think of dodging. It was the attack of someone used to his enemies falling before his mere presence, someone who had never needed to develop complex strategies because his raw power had always been enough.
Daniel moved one step to the left.
The fire passed so close he felt the heat distort the air beside his cheek, but it didn't touch him. His eyes, thanks to his constantly evolving draconic heritage, had developed considerable resistance to flames; the blinding glare that would have disoriented any other fighter was for him merely a minor annoyance.
"HOW...?" Riser blinked, his fury momentarily displaced by confusion. "NO ONE DODGES MY ATTACKS!"
"Looks like today is a day of firsts," Daniel replied, and closed the distance.
His first blow was a simple straight right, no Haki, no Boost, just the physical strength he had developed through months of relentless training and battles against enemies that would make Riser Phenex cry for his mommy. The fist impacted directly in the center of the Phoenix's chest, right where the wings of fire met flesh.
The sound was that of a steel sledgehammer hitting a ribcage. Riser let out a sharp "oof" and was thrown backward several meters, his feet scraping the concrete in a desperate attempt to maintain balance.
"Grrr...!" he grunted, as the impact area already began to glow with the characteristic golden light of his regeneration. The bruise disappeared, the microfractured ribs fused, the bruised tissue restored to its original state. In less than two seconds, Riser Phenex was as good as new. "IS THAT IT? IS THAT THE STRENGTH OF THE HUMAN WHO HAS YOU ALL SO SCARED? YOU LOOK LIKE AN ANT TRYING TO FELL A TREE!"
Daniel didn't respond. He simply observed, analyzed, memorized.
The regeneration was impressive, yes. Almost instantaneous, almost perfect. But it had consumed demonic energy—a small amount, almost negligible for a high-class demon, but energy nonetheless. And Riser, in his arrogance, hadn't even noticed the cost.
"Good observation, kid," Ddraig commented, his tone of approval barely concealed. "The Phenex never talk about it, but their regeneration isn't free. Every cell they restore, every wound they close, consumes their magical reserve. It's a huge reserve, yes, but not infinite."
"I know," Daniel replied mentally, while dodging another burst of fire. "I also know his regeneration is less effective when his mental state is compromised. Fear. Stress. Doubt. All of it slows the process."
"Ah. I see where you're going with this."
"I'm going to make this Phoenix hate himself for being born."
The war of attrition began.
It wasn't a battle in the traditional sense; there were no spectacular exchanges of techniques or moments of dramatic tension where the outcome hung in the balance. It was, essentially, a session of methodical torture executed with the precision of a Swiss watchmaker.
Daniel hit. Riser regenerated. Daniel dodged. Riser counterattacked furiously, missed, got frustrated. Daniel hit again. Riser regenerated again. A little slower, this time. A little more costly.
"HOLD STILL, DAMN IT!" Riser shouted, unleashing a curtain of flames in a thirty-meter radius. It was a panic attack, not a calculated strategy. Daniel leaped over the flames, using a slab of concrete as a springboard, and landed directly behind the Phoenix.
His kick, now charged with the first layer of Armament Haki, impacted Riser's spine with the force of a freight train. The crunch of fracturing vertebrae was audible even from the stands.
Riser screamed—a genuine scream, of real pain, not theatrical frustration—and fell face-first onto the concrete. The golden light of his regeneration activated immediately, working furiously to repair the massive damage. But this time, the process took almost five full seconds.
Five seconds in which Daniel remained motionless, watching.
"WHAT... WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?" Riser panted when he finally managed to get up. His face was pale, his eyes wide. "MY REGENERATION... IT'S NEVER TAKEN THIS LONG!"
"Maybe," Daniel replied, with a calm that was more terrifying than any roar, "it's because you've never been truly hurt before."
Riser tried to respond, but the words got stuck in his throat. Because deep down, in that remote place of his being where pride gave way to honesty, he knew Daniel was right. He had spent centuries being the golden Phoenix, the immortal prodigy, the demon who could face any enemy and simply... survive. He had won battles through attrition, triumphed thanks to his infinite endurance, built his reputation on the foundation that no one could permanently hurt him.
But Daniel Hernandez was hurting him. And it hurt. And it hurt more because he didn't understand how.
The second act of the fight began when Daniel activated the Boosted Gear.
There was no dramatic transformation, no blinding lights, no epic proclamations. He simply... activated the power of the Red Dragon of Supremacy, and the world around him changed.
"—What is that energy?"—a noble's voice in the stands, sharp with disbelief. "—That's not demonic magic! It's not any kind of magic I've ever seen!"
"—It's... it's dragon power!"—another demon, this one of higher rank and discernment, recognized the energy signature with growing horror. "—That human possesses a Dragon Sacred Gear! And not just any dragon... that is..."
"—THE RED DRAGON," Grayfia completed, her commentator's voice completely losing its glacial composure. "—MR. DANIEL HERNANDEZ IS THE BEARER OF THE BOOSTED GEAR, THE GAUNTLET OF THE RED DRAGON OF SUPREMACY, DDRAIG."
The silence that followed was so absolute Daniel could hear his own heartbeat.
Then, chaos.
"—DDRAIG?! THE DDRAIG?! THE DRAGON WHO FOUGHT THE WHITE DRAGON FOR CENTURIES?!"
"—Impossible! That Sacred Gear should have been sealed!"
"—The Heavenly Dragon is in the hands of a human! This is insane!"
"—That's why he's so strong! That's how he could defeat Phenex's retinue!"
"—But that means... that means Riser is fighting a Heavenly Dragon!"
Daniel ignored the chaos. His attention was entirely focused on Riser, whose face had gone from fury to bewilderment, and from bewilderment to a fear he desperately tried to hide.
"Boosted Gear," Riser whispered, and for the first time, his voice lacked arrogance. "You... you are the bearer of the Red Dragon..."
"Problem?" Daniel asked, as his fist began to glow with a crimson radiance.
"I DON'T CARE WHAT DRAGON YOU CARRY!" Riser roared, more to convince himself than to threaten Daniel. "I'M STILL A PHENEX! I'M STILL IMMORTAL! YOUR POWER IS BORROWED, HUMAN! THAT DRAGON DOESN'T BELONG TO YOU!"
"Borrowed?" Daniel tilted his head, and in that gesture was more defiance than in any word. "Ddraig isn't a weapon I wield. He's my partner. My ally. My friend. And his power is mine, because he chose to give it to someone who respects him, not to a conceited asshole who treats his servants like disposable tools."
Ddraig's roar resonated in his mind, a sound of pride and approval so intense it made the Boosted Gear vibrate.
"Well said, kid. Now show this peacock what it means to face a real dragon."
"BOOST," Daniel whispered.
The power flowed through him like a river of liquid fire, doubling, quadrupling, exponentially multiplying his physical strength. His muscles, already dense from training, tensed under the wave of draconic energy. His senses, already sharpened by Observation Haki, expanded to encompass not only the battlefield, but the invisible stands themselves, the emotions of the spectators, Rias's accelerated heartbeat, Sirzechs' controlled breathing, Grayfia's barely concealed astonishment.
"BOOST," he repeated.
Riser launched a desperate attack, a torrent of flames so dense it seemed solid. Daniel didn't bother to dodge. He simply... advanced. The fire crashed against his chest, against his arms, against his face, and he felt the heat—he felt it, yes, because his fire resistance, though considerable, wasn't absolute—but he didn't stop.
"BOOST."
His fist, charged with three consecutive power doublings, impacted Riser's right shoulder.
The crack was grotesque, a wet sound of splintering bones and tearing ligaments. Riser screamed—not a battle roar, but a shriek of pure, animal pain—and his right arm fell inert at his side, the shoulder joint completely shattered.
The golden light of regeneration activated frantically, working at a speed Daniel hadn't seen before. But Riser was sweating. His breathing was erratic. His eyes, once full of arrogance, now reflected something he had never experienced in his entire long life: the certainty that he could lose.
"H-HOW?" he panted, as his shoulder slowly reconstructed itself. "HOW CAN YOU BE SO STRONG? YOU'RE JUST A HUMAN!"
"That question," Daniel replied, raising his fist for another blow, "has been asked of me before. The answer hasn't changed."
The next impact broke three of his ribs and dislocated his left collarbone.
The fight continued.
Daniel increased his power gradually, like a musician raising the volume of a symphony with millimeter precision. He used the Boosted Gear in short bursts, enough to inflict damage but not so much as to exhaust his stamina. He alternated between blows with and without Haki, sometimes just to cause pain, others to destroy tissue, always measuring Riser's regeneration response.
And the regeneration, as predicted, began to fail.
Not dramatically, not with a spectacular effect. Simply... it slowed down. What used to take two seconds now took five. What used to regenerate perfectly now left minor scars, irregular marks where skin joined imperfectly. The golden light, once bright and constant, now flickered like a candle in a storm.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME?" Riser shouted, his voice broken by panic. He was bleeding from his mouth, his nose, from countless cuts on his once-perfect face. His crimson uniform, symbol of his pride, hung in tatters over his bruised body. "MY REGENERATION... MY REGENERATION CAN'T FAIL! I'M A PHENEX! I'M IMMORTAL!"
"No one is immortal," Daniel replied, and his voice held no hatred, only a terrible calm. "There are only those who haven't yet found someone stubborn enough to refuse to accept their immortality."
His kick, charged with four Boosts and a thin layer of Armament Haki, impacted Riser's abdomen with the force of a meteor. The Phoenix flew backward like a ragdoll, crashing through the wall of the science building, then another wall, then another. Bricks exploded into clouds of dust and debris, and the sound of his body bouncing off the building's internal structures was a grotesque percussion of breaking bones and tearing flesh.
When he finally stopped, buried under a mountain of rubble in what had been the chemistry lab, Riser Phenex experienced something he hadn't felt in over a thousand years: true, absolute, paralyzing fear.
His regeneration... wasn't activating.
He tried to summon it, forcing his demonic energy through the damaged channels of his body. Nothing. Just a faint golden flicker at his fingertips, a pathetic spark that died out almost instantly.
"No," he whispered, and his voice was barely a thread of air. "No, no, no, no, no..."
The rubble over him was removed with terrifying ease. Daniel Hernandez's silhouette stood out against the artificial sky, his Left Arm wrapped in the crimson glow of the Boosted Gear, his expression as calm as if he were out for a walk in the park.
"Surrender," he said.
Riser looked at him. He saw his own dreams of grandeur, his marriage plans, his future as consort of the Gremory House, all reduced to ashes by this... this human. This monster disguised as a human. This dragon in human skin.
"No," he replied, and it was the stupidest word he had ever uttered in his life.
Daniel nodded, as if he had expected that answer. As if, in fact, he had been waiting for it.
His hand closed in Riser's ash-blonde hair, and he lifted him from the ground with the ease one lifts a wet kitten. His eyes—those terribly calm eyes—met the Phoenix's from just a few centimeters away.
"You've treated your servants like tools," Daniel said, his voice as calm as if he were reciting a shopping list. "You tried to marry Rias against her will. You've looked down on humans, believing yourself superior by birthright. You've built your identity on the foundation that no one can truly hurt you."
He paused.
"Let me correct that misunderstanding."
His fist, coated in the combined light of the Balance Breaker and Armament Haki at maximum concentration, impacted directly in the center of Riser's face.
The effect was instantaneous and devastating.
The Phoenix's teeth were sent flying in a rain of enamel and blood. His jaw fractured in three distinct places. His nose, once perfectly sculpted, flattened against his face like clay hit by a hammer. And his body—oh, his body—shot backward like a ballistic projectile, tearing through not one, nor two, but five walls of the science building before emerging on the opposite side and continuing its trajectory across the central courtyard.
The final impact against the ground was so violent that the concrete cracked in a ten-meter radius, forming a perfect crater around the shattered body of Riser Phenex.
Silence.
Then, a sound no demon in the stands had ever heard: Riser Phenex, the golden Phoenix, the immortal prodigy, coughing up blood.
It wasn't a minor hemorrhage, a superficial cut. It was dark, venous blood, gushing from his mouth in spurts timed with the spasms of his diaphragm. Blood from shattered internal organs, from torn major vessels, from a body that had far exceeded its capacity for self-sustenance.
"Please," he whimpered, and didn't even recognize his own voice, so broken, so weak, so human. "Please..."
"Surrender," Daniel said, appearing beside him with that terrifying speed that wasn't teleportation but pure, absolute physical superiority. His voice held no rancor, no sadism, not even satisfaction. Only an infinite patience, like that of a teacher waiting for his slowest student to finally understand the lesson.
Riser looked at him. He saw his own reflection in those dark eyes: a broken, bleeding, humiliated man. A king without a kingdom, a phoenix without wings, an immortal who had discovered that immortality was merely an illusion sustained by arrogance.
"No," he whispered, and even he didn't believe the word.
Daniel sighed. It was a sigh of genuine disappointment, as if Riser were a brilliant student determined to fail the final exam.
"As you wish."
This time, the blow was to the abdomen.
Daniel used a technique that Tamamo had taught him during their nightly training sessions: a penetration of energy that not only damaged the physical body, but directly attacked the opponent's energy channels. It was, essentially, a primitive form of his advanced Armament Haki, the Ryou that allowed one to damage an enemy from the inside.
Daniel's fist didn't break Riser's skin. There was no external blood, no visible fractures, no obvious deformations. But the Phoenix felt something inside him—something that wasn't organs or bones or muscles, but the very essence of his demonic being—tear apart under the force of the impact.
His scream wasn't of physical pain, but of something much deeper: the sensation of his own immortality being ripped from his chest in chunks.
His body flew backward, crashing through the few buildings still standing in that section of the battlefield. The sound of his final impact was a muffled thunder that shook the ground beneath the feet of every spectator.
When the dust settled, Riser lay in the center of a triple crater, his body trembling uncontrollably, his eyes fixed on the artificial sky with an expression of absolute disbelief.
His regeneration, once again, wasn't activating.
"See?" Daniel said, appearing beside him with that terrifying calm. "Your fire is going out. Your magic is running dry. Your body can no longer sustain you. Everything you are, everything you've become, is crumbling because you chose to face someone you couldn't beat."
He knelt beside him, not in a gesture of mercy but of simple convenience. His eyes, those terribly calm eyes, met the Phoenix's for the last time.
"Surrender," he said. It wasn't a plea. It was an order.
Riser opened his mouth. He was going to say "no" again, was going to cling to that last vestige of pride, was going to refuse to admit defeat even though his body could no longer hold itself up.
Then he heard the voice.
"Brother, enough!"
Ravel Phenex was on her knees beside him.
He didn't remember how she had gotten there. One moment she was outside the battlefield perimeter, watching the fight with a mixture of horror and fascination, wondering how long it would be before the human finished what he had started. The next, her knees were sunk into the crater's cracked concrete, her hands—small, delicate, designed for signing administrative documents, not for stopping fights—pressing uselessly against her older brother's shattered chest.
"Please," she said, and her voice was a thread of air, a plea as fragile as a butterfly's wings. "Please, Mr. Hernandez. That's enough. There's... there's no reason to continue anymore."
Daniel looked at her. In his eyes, for the first time since the Rating Game began, appeared something that wasn't strategic calm or cold determination. It was... tiredness? Compassion? The recognition of a limit he didn't even know he had?
"Miss Phenex," he replied, and his voice was softer now, though no less firm. "Your brother hasn't surrendered yet. As long as he doesn't, the fight continues."
Ravel turned to Riser. Her brother. The golden Phoenix. The prodigy of the Phenex House. He lay before her like a broken doll, his face—that face that had always radiated confidence and superiority—disfigured by blows, his eyes—those eyes that had never reflected anything but pride—now full of tears and fear and something she had never seen in him: shame.
"Brother," she whispered, and her voice trembled. "Brother, please. It's enough. We... we've already lost."
Riser blinked. His eyes, with difficulty, focused on his younger sister's face.
"Ravel," he managed to articulate, the word distorted by his fractured jaw, barely intelligible. "You... you shouldn't be here. You should have... fled..."
"Fled?" Ravel laughed, but it was a bitter laugh, without joy. "Where to, brother? What place in the Underworld could I flee to where the shame of what you did today wouldn't reach me?" Her hands clenched in the bloodied fabric of Riser's shirt. "You taught us that the Phenex are superior. You taught us that no one can defeat us. You taught us that our fire is eternal and our will unbreakable. And you lied to us."
"I... I didn't lie..." Riser protested weakly.
"YOU LIED TO US!" Ravel shouted, and her eyes, once full of tears, now burned with a fury Riser had never seen in her. "YOU TOLD US WE WERE IMMORTAL, BUT HERE YOU ARE, BLEEDING LIKE A MORTAL! YOU TOLD US OUR FIRE WOULD NEVER GO OUT, BUT YOU CAN BARELY KEEP A FLAME! YOU TOLD US YOU WERE A KING, BUT LOOK AROUND YOU! YOUR KINGDOM IS RUBBLE, YOUR SERVANTS ARE UNCONSCIOUS, AND I, YOUR SISTER, HAVE TO BEG FOR YOUR LIFE!"
The silence that followed was heavier than any of Daniel's attacks.
Riser looked at her. He saw, for the first time in centuries, his little sister not as another piece on his board, nor as an extension of his own glory, nor as a tool to manage his resources. He saw her as Ravel Phenex: a young, intelligent, loyal demoness who had dedicated her life to serving a brother who had never truly valued her.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. He didn't know if the words were for Ravel or for Daniel or for himself, but he said them anyway. "I'm so sorry..."
"Then surrender," Ravel said, and her voice was now a plea, not a demand. "Please, brother. Don't make me watch you die. Don't make me carry that for the rest of my life. Please..."
Riser closed his eyes. In the darkness of his eyelids, he saw his own reflection: not the golden Phoenix, the immortal prodigy, the pride of the Phenex House. He saw an arrogant man, blinded by his own ego, who had mistaken immortality for invincibility and tradition for entitlement.
He saw, for the first time, the truth.
He opened his eyes. He sought Daniel Hernandez's gaze.
"I surrender," he said. And in those two words, spoken with a voice broken by pain and humiliation, there was more honesty than in all the centuries of his existence.
Daniel nodded. There was no triumph in his gaze, no satisfaction, not even relief. Only a quiet acceptance, as if he had known from the beginning that this would be the end.
"I accept your surrender," he replied. And then, addressing Ravel with a surprisingly gentle tone: "Take care of your brother, Miss Phenex. Seems like he finally learned something today."
Ravel nodded, her tears falling silently onto Riser's bloodied face. She said nothing. There were no words that could express what she felt at that moment: relief, gratitude, and a deep sadness for everything her brother had lost.
"—ATTENTION, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN OF THE UNDERWORLD," Grayfia Lucifuge's voice resonated throughout the venue, and although her tone was formal, there was a barely perceptible tremor in her words, the mark of an emotion her training couldn't completely suppress. "—LORD RISER PHENEX HAS LAID DOWN HIS ARMS AND DECLARED HIMSELF DEFEATED. IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CONDITIONS PREVIOUSLY ESTABLISHED AND ACCEPTED BY BOTH PARTIES, I OFFICIALLY DECLARE THIS RATING GAME CONCLUDED."
She paused. The silence in the stands was so absolute that the collective heartbeat of twenty thousand demon hearts could be heard.
"—THE VICTOR IS MR. DANIEL HERNANDEZ. AS A RESULT OF HIS VICTORY, THE MARRIAGE ENGAGEMENT BETWEEN LORD RISER PHENEX AND LADY RIAS GREMORY IS PERMANENTLY AND IRREVOCABLY DISSOLVED. LADY RIAS GREMORY RETAINS THE EXCLUSIVE RIGHT TO CHOOSE HER OWN SPOUSE, WITHOUT INTERFERENCE FROM PRIOR PACTS OR EXTERNAL PRESSURES."
Another pause. Longer, this time.
"—THIS DECISION IS... FINAL."
The chaos that followed wasn't the chaos of disbelief or protest. It was the chaos of a paradigm collapsing, of truths held for millennia crumbling like houses of cards. The conservative demons, those who had built their identities on the foundation of the innate superiority of their species, stared at the screens with expressions of vacant horror. The progressive demons, those who had advocated for decades for greater integration with other supernatural races, watched with a mixture of astonishment and cautious hope.
And in the midst of it all, a girl with crimson hair and garnet-colored eyes cried tears of happiness while her brother, the most powerful Maou of the generation, held her in his arms with a smile he hadn't worn in centuries.
"He won," Rias whispered, over and over, as if the words were a mantra, a prayer, a miracle. "He won. For me. He won."
"Yes, little sister," Sirzechs replied, and his voice was softer than any demon outside his inner circle had ever heard. "He won. And he did it because you believed in him."
On the battlefield, Daniel remained motionless.
The Balance Breaker deactivated gradually, the crimson light of the Boosted Gear dimming until it became a faint glow on his left arm. The Armament Haki retreated from his skin like a snake returning to its lair. His breathing, which he had kept controlled throughout the fight, finally released itself in a long, deep sigh.
"Good job, kid," Ddraig said, and his voice, for the first time since Daniel had known him, was tinged with something that could only be described as paternal pride. "Today you've shown not only your power, but your wisdom. Not many bearers of the Boosted Gear would have understood that true victory isn't in destroying the enemy, but in making them understand why they must surrender."
"I didn't feel satisfaction," Daniel replied mentally, and it was a confession, not a complaint. "Just... relief. That it was over. That Rias is free. That I didn't have to take it further."
"That, kid, is what sets you apart from monsters. Monsters enjoy the suffering of others. Warriors only seek for the fight to end as soon as possible, with the least damage necessary. Today you were a warrior."
"Thank you, Ddraig."
"Don't thank me. Just keep being who you are."
Daniel nodded. Then, very slowly, he turned towards the point in space where he knew the VIP stands were located. He couldn't see Rias, or Sirzechs, or Rias's parents, or Sona, or Grayfia. But he knew they were there. He knew they were watching him.
He raised his right fist—not the left one, not the Boosted Gear one, the other one, the human one—and clenched it tight.
A simple gesture. A silent promise.
Mission accomplished.
Somewhere, in the darkness between worlds, an ancient presence observed the unfolding events with a smile that didn't reach its eyes.
Kokabiel had seen enough.
The human was more dangerous than he had anticipated. Not only because of his power—although that power, fueled by the Red Dragon and tempered in battles against gods, was certainly impressive—but because of his ability to influence the hearts of those around him. Rias Gremory, once a docile princess resigned to her fate, was now a rebel with a champion. Ravel Phenex, once a loyal servant to her brother, had now defied his authority to beg for his life. Even Riser, that arrogant Phoenix, had learned humility through defeat.
All because of a human who refused to know his place.
"Interesting," Kokabiel murmured, his wings of dark light slowly unfolding behind his back. "Very interesting."
He wouldn't attack today. Not directly. The Rating Game had drawn too much attention, and the entire Underworld had its eyes on Daniel Hernandez. Any move against him at this moment would be... inconvenient.
But there were other methods. Other pieces on the board. Other events he could manipulate to wear down his enemy, to isolate him, to force him into making mistakes.
The war was just beginning.
On the battlefield, Daniel felt a chill run down his spine.
It wasn't the cold, nor exhaustion, nor the residual adrenaline of the fight. It was something deeper, older, more sinister. The sensation of being watched by eyes that didn't wish him well, but his destruction.
"Kokabiel," he whispered, and the name tasted like poison on his tongue.
"You feel it?" Ddraig asked, and his voice was grave, alert.
"Yes. He's out there. Watching. Waiting."
"He won't attack today. He's too smart for that. But this isn't over, kid. The Rating Game was just a battle. The war hasn't begun yet."
Daniel nodded. He knew it. He had known it from the beginning, from that night he first felt Kokabiel's presence, from when Grayfia appeared in his room to take Rias away, from when he accepted Riser's challenge knowing it was only the prelude to something much bigger.
But that was a problem for another day.
Today, he had won.
Today, Rias was free.
And that, for now, was enough.
Grayfia's magic circle appeared beside him, its silver light outlining his silhouette against the devastated battlefield. The silver-haired maid, for the first time since Daniel had known her, didn't wear her habitual expression of cold neutrality. There was something in her eyes—respect? curiosity? something deeper?—that hadn't been there before.
"Mr. Hernandez," she said, and her voice was formal but not distant. "Your performance today has been... remarkable. Lord Sirzechs wishes to speak with you. And Lady Rias..."
She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't need to.
Daniel smiled. It was a tired smile, but genuine.
"Let me guess," he said. "She wants to see me right now?"
Grayfia inclined her head, a gesture that in anyone else would have been a polite affirmation, but in her was almost a bow.
"Yes. Immediately, if possible."
Daniel nodded. He took one last look at the battlefield—the destroyed buildings, the craters in the ground, the traces of his fight against Riser scattered across the reconstructed campus—and then stepped forward, into the teleportation circle.
The silver light enveloped him.
And Daniel Hernandez, the human who had defeated a Phoenix, the bearer of the Boosted Gear, the champion of Rias Gremory, vanished from the battlefield forever.