Chapter 10: The Battle Begins, The Mighty Shin Akira!
Time flowed steadily toward the next morning. Today, the House of Bael was uncharacteristically bustling with activity.
In one of the ancient fighting arenas belonging to the Bael family, Sairaorg stood in the center, his eyes closed as he stilled his mind. Surrounding him was a large crowd that had gathered to watch. The entire arena was draped in a deep crimson hue, built from materials as black as pitch.
Anti-Magic Stone—a mystical substance forged through ancient sorcery. It possessed an extraordinary resistance to magical assaults.
In theory, no attack below the Transcendent level could shatter the defenses of Anti-Magic Stone. However, the methods to create it had long been lost to time, making it a rare treasure held only by a few Great Houses.
This arena had been commissioned by the King of Bael during the family's golden age. Furthermore, that deep crimson staining the walls wasn't the material's original color; it was the pigment of dried blood. Originally, the arena had been pure black.
Ancient Devils had a long and dark history. Thousands of years ago, the race was not as it is today. Evil, cruel, brutal, and bloodthirsty were the words synonymous with Devils back then. In those times, the internal hierarchy revolved around a single pillar: strength.
Power was everything. Authority, status, wealth, women—everything could be obtained as long as you possessed the strength to take it. If you lacked something but someone else had it, and you were stronger than them, you simply seized it.
That was the cold, harsh reality. In those days, this arena was the place where the House of Bael slaughtered their own.
Here, day after day and year after year, countless gallons of blood had been spilled. Over time, the arena changed color, soaked in a gore that would not fade even after centuries had passed.
Tap— tap— tap—
The sound of footsteps echoed through the space. Sairaorg opened his eyes, and a smile of genuine excitement spread across his face. On the opposite side, a silhouette was approaching, stepping forward one pace at a time.
Many of the Devils in the surrounding stands instinctively felt a tremor of trepidation as they looked upon Akira. It wasn't for any petty reason; it was purely due to the overwhelming power of the man before them.
Even though he was "merely" a human in their eyes, he had reached the level of a Maou. He had surpassed every genius and rising star in the Underworld.
Not only that, but he had captured the heart of the Maou's younger sister and held the status of the Maou's future brother-in-law. In terms of both power and influence, he was an object of intense envy and resentment for them.
"You've finally arrived..."
Sairaorg smiled as he watched Akira approach.
"If I had known you were going to turn this into such a spectacle, I never would have agreed," Akira remarked, casting a displeased glance at the surrounding spectators. He didn't appreciate the feeling of being watched like a monkey in a show.
"My apologies. I must ask for your forgiveness regarding this. I kept the details hidden because I needed to borrow your reputation to help solidify my own standing."
"Hmm? You're telling me this to my face?"
"What I have done, I have done. I, Sairaorg, am not a man who hides from his actions."
"Just this once..."
"You have my gratitude."
No more words were needed, but Sairaorg understood that his opponent had granted him a significant amount of respect. To allow a Maou-class fighter to cooperate—and even be utilized—was something that would normally trigger a blood feud with anyone else.
Meanwhile, on a high VIP platform, a group of women had gathered. At the center of all the attention was Tiamat, who had insisted on coming along.
When she first learned that her son had been challenged to a fight, Tiamat could barely restrain herself from wiping the House of Bael off the map with her Chaos Tide. When it came to doting on her child, Tiamat was second to none. Daring to challenge my son... you must not know how to spell the word 'death.'
Eventually, after an explanation from Akira, Tiamat had calmed down. However, she still tagged along with a single resolve: if Akira was in even the slightest danger, she would intervene immediately.
"Is that Akira's opponent?"
Looking down at Sairaorg, Tiamat knit her brows slightly. Her first impression of this "little devil" was poor. No, it would be more accurate to say it was abysmal.
"That's right, Mother. He is Onii-chan's opponent."
"He is no match for Akira."
"That goes without saying! Onii-chan is the strongest. Even the Great Maous couldn't possibly defeat him."
"Uh—"
The mother and daughter pair spoke as if no one else was present. Rias, standing beside them, wiped a bead of cold sweat from her forehead.
It was fortunate no one else was nearby; if these words got out, Akira's reputation might actually suffer. One could not underestimate the authority of the Maous within the Devil race. Their status was equivalent to "God" in Heaven. In the Underworld, a Maou was absolute and beyond reproach.
Finally, under the watchful eyes of the crowd, the battle began.
Boom!
Mana began to boil within Sairaorg's body, and his muscles tightened instantly. Unlike other Devils, Sairaorg possessed no innate magical genius or extraordinary talent. All he had was a powerful physique tempered thousands of times over.
Since childhood, he had been mocked for his low mana and bullied by his peers. After constant encouragement from his mother, he stopped crying and subjected himself to hellish training to obtain "power." He had succeeded. He didn't rely on spells, mana capacity, or raw talent, but on his own grit.
"Here I come..."
Bang!
The moment the words left his lips, Sairaorg lunged forward like an arrow shot from a bow. His speed was immense, carrying a terrifying destructive force. His opening strike aimed straight for a vital point.
Bang!
A heavy punch landed squarely on Akira's body. Akira didn't even bother to dodge, taking the blow directly. Sairaorg's face, which had been full of fighting spirit, suddenly stiffened.
Even though that punch was just a test, the fact that his opponent took it without a single scratch proved just how vast the gap was between them.
"Put everything you have into it. Don't disappoint me, Sairaorg," a calm voice rang out.
Sairaorg's lips curled into a smile—a grin filled with both madness and joy. Unparalleled power was exactly why this challenge had to happen. Even if he was destined to lose, even if victory was impossible, he would still give it his all.
"Of course, Lord Shin Akira!"
Whoosh!
This time, Sairaorg held nothing back. Both his physical strength and his mana were pushed to their absolute limits.
Bang!
The attack connected. Just like before, Akira stood as firm as Mount Tai, not budging an inch.
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