Evening. After dinner. The old schoolhouse.
Warm, amber light filled the first-floor common room. Every girl was present, along with the more senior women: Venelana, Chysis, Runeas.
For once, nobody had made a beeline for the bathhouse after the meal. Tonight, instead of the usual "pool party," they'd all gathered here.
A large screen made of crystallized demonic energy stood at the front of the room, functioning as a magical display.
"Everyone's here?"
Rias stood before the screen, scanning the room. Satisfied, she took a quiet breath.
"Then let's begin."
Soft crimson light began to emanate from around her, the telltale shimmer of the Power of Destruction. But unlike the volatile, annihilating force she wielded in combat, this current was gentle, controlled. She was powering a screen, not obliterating one.
The red motes of energy sank into the crystal surface. Ripples spread across its formerly transparent face, as if a pebble had been dropped into a still pond.
The image sharpened. A handsome young man with flowing crimson hair materialized on screen.
"Oh, Rias. I was wondering who'd be calling at this hour."
Sirzechs's voice came through warm and faintly amused.
"I apologize for disturbing you during what must be a busy schedule, Brother..."
"Come on, come on~"
Sirzechs waved his hand dismissively, his tone easy and informal. The moment his sister opened with that stiff, diplomatic register, he shut it down.
"We're family. Just say what's on your mind."
"Right..."
Realizing she'd been overly formal, Rias's cheeks colored faintly.
"Well, it's like this. I only heard about it from Bokue after he got back from school this evening. Brother, are you aware of the situation involving the Dragon Eater, Samael?"
"I am."
On screen, Sirzechs gave a small nod.
"The Hero Faction's Cao Cao brought it to Itogami Island to attack you. Yes?"
"That's right... wait."
Rias had been about to continue, but the implication caught up with her and she stopped short.
"How do you already know about that?"
"Because Mother called me this afternoon."
Sirzechs answered without thinking, his gaze drifting through the screen to settle on Venelana, seated on the sofa.
"She and Grandmother have been keeping Runeas-sama company on Itogami Island these past few days, so naturally they've been aware of everything happening on your end. Speaking of which, how's the trip going, Mother?"
"Wonderfully. Having the time of my life~"
Venelana smiled at the screen and flashed a peace sign.
As for what exactly "the time of my life" entailed, only she, Chysis, and Runeas knew the full picture.
Sirzechs, despite being a Satan, was not a mind reader. Especially not through a video call. He simply smiled and nodded.
"Glad to hear it."
"Now then. Back to the matter at hand."
Pleasantries concluded, Sirzechs shifted gears. When the topic returned to Samael, the warmth in the young Satan's voice cooled to something considerably more serious.
"This is an extremely grave violation of boundaries. With Odin's recent formal alliance with our Three Factions, numerous other mythological powers have been signaling interest in joining. The Olympian pantheon, led by their chief god Zeus, is among the most prominent."
"Given that Hades is himself an Olympian deity, we need to approach this with extraordinary diplomatic caution..."
"That's way more complicated than it needs to be."
Before Sirzechs could finish, Bokue cleared his throat from the sofa. He'd been silent since the call started.
"I only need to confirm one thing. When are you free, Sirzechs-nii?"
"Free? Tomorrow, actually..."
The young Satan blinked, caught off guard by the question, and answered reflexively.
"That works."
Bokue nodded once.
"Let's skip the political theater. I'll come to you tomorrow, and you can show me the way. Once we're there, you can leave. I'll handle the rest."
He didn't spell it out. He didn't need to.
If Hades won't go quietly, I'll make sure he does.
That was the message.
❁❁❁❁
The next day. The Underworld. Or rather, somewhere beneath it.
The Realm of the Dead. The deepest stratum of the demon world. Resting place of all departed souls.
There was no sky here. No horizon. Only an endless expanse of darkness and desolation. Bone-cold mist crept across the barren earth like a living shroud, and the entire landscape called to mind the underground depths of a ruined kingdom. Nothing alive could survive in this place.
But today, the land of the dead had uninvited guests.
A size-twelve boot crunched down on ground as hard and frozen as Siberian permafrost, then stopped.
"This is it?"
Bokue's voice shattered the silence. He glanced sideways at his companion, then lifted his gaze.
They had descended through every layer of the Underworld, trekked across the frozen wasteland of the Realm of the Dead, and finally arrived at its deepest point.
Before them, a Greco-Roman temple rose from the barren earth like a monument to endings.
The Palace of the Dead.
According to the records, this was the seat of all death gods in the Underworld, and the personal stronghold of the Olympian deity of death: Hades.
"This is it."
Sirzechs confirmed, standing at the young man's side.
"Right."
Bokue exhaled softly.
Their exchange was calm. Unhurried. Two people confirming directions, nothing more.
And yet that mundane, almost friendly cadence sent a sharp, inexplicable sting through Sirzechs's brow.
Because in the next heartbeat, Bokue took a single step forward, and from the point where his foot touched the earth, a barrage of titanic sword-pressure erupted outward. The invisible blades tore through the frozen ground in radiating lines, crossing the remaining distance to the temple in less than a second.
The palace split apart. Collapsed inward. Crumbled to rubble.
When it came to enemies, Bokue had never believed in knocking.
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