The silver light of the teleportation circle dissipated like morning fog, and Daniel Hernandez found himself alone in a place that was, and was not, Kuoh Academy.
He recognized every detail: the metal lockers lined against the wall, the sunlight filtering through the lobby windows, the smell of polished wood and chalkboard cleaner. But there was something strange, a slightly unreal quality to the light, to the overly symmetrical perfection of the shadows. It was Kuoh, yes, but a Kuoh reconstructed through magic, a stage meticulously designed for the Rating Game.
"We're in the Underworld, kid," Ddraig's voice confirmed, resonating with that mixture of seriousness and old-timey excitement that only the red dragon could achieve. "I can feel it in the air. It's denser here, more... ancient. Like reality itself is slightly blurred around the edges."
Daniel nodded, though he knew the dragon couldn't see him. His eyes scanned the empty lobby. Grayfia had disappeared as silently as she had arrived, leaving him in what was evidently a waiting lobby, a bubble of space-time suspended before the official start of the fight. Sona must be somewhere in the invisible stands he knew surrounded the battlefield, watching from a distance, her demon heart probably beating faster than her stoic facade would ever allow her to admit.
Before he could dwell on that thought, the air around him vibrated.
"—Attention, ladies and gentlemen of the Underworld. Welcome to the Rating Game that will define the fate of the Gremory House and the Phenex House."
Grayfia Lucifuge's voice filled the space, coming from all directions at once. It was clear, cold, and possessed that unmistakable quality of absolute authority that only someone who had served alongside the most powerful Lucifer of the generation could project. There was no hesitation in her words, no favoritism, no emotion. It was the voice of impartial justice, of the irrevocable verdict.
"—Acting as judge and official commentator for this Rating Game, I, Grayfia Lucifuge, Queen of His Excellence Sirzechs Lucifer, formally declare this contest open. The participants have been verified, the conditions have been accepted by both parties, and the battlefield has been established through magical reconstruction certified by the Underworld's Rating Game Commission."
Daniel imagined the invisible stands filling with demons of all ranks, from the 72 Pillars to the minor nobles who had managed to secure invitations. He imagined Riser Phenex in his corner of the field, probably surrounded by his retinue of female pawns, with that arrogant smile that characterized him. He imagined Rias, somewhere—perhaps in a private box with her brother and parents—biting her lip, her hands intertwined so tightly that her nails left marks on her own skin.
"—The opposing sides are as follows," Grayfia continued. "—In the red corner, representing the Phenex House and with the objective of validating the previously agreed-upon marriage engagement, we have Lord Riser Phenex and his complete nobility, consisting of twelve pieces of various ranks."
A murmur of approval ran through the invisible stands. The Phenex were a respected house, ancient, powerful. Their fire of immortality was legendary. A Phoenix did not fall. A Phoenix was always reborn. A Phoenix was, by definition, unbeatable in a war of attrition.
"—In the blue corner," and here Grayfia's voice hesitated for a microscopic instant—so brief that only someone with Daniel's perception might have noticed it—, "—representing himself and with the objective of dissolving the marriage engagement of Lady Rias Gremory, we have Mr. Daniel Hernandez."
The silence that followed was so dense Daniel could have cut it with his Haki.
Then, like a wave crashing against a cliff, came the reaction.
"—A HUMAN?"
The voice wasn't Grayfia's. It came from the stands, from some narrow-minded noble demon who hadn't been able to contain his indignation. And once the first drop of venom fell, the deluge followed.
"—This is an outrage! A mere human challenging a Phenex? It's a disrespect to all the nobility of the Underworld!"
"—Lady Grayfia, I demand an explanation! How is it possible that such... such... is permitted?"
"—Ridiculous! This Rating Game is a farce! Humans shouldn't even be admitted into our society, let alone participate in our traditions!"
"—Lady Rias must be desperate to resort to this! A human as a champion! What a disgrace for the Gremory House!"
Daniel listened to all of this with a calm that surprised him. Months ago, these insults would have hurt him, fueled his resentment. Now, after two days of forced introspection and conversations with Ddraig in the space of his soul, the words of the conservative demons slid off him like water off a dragon's back.
"What a load of crap," he murmured, exhaling a sigh.
"Ha," Ddraig laughed, his tone one of genuine amusement. "Look at these worms squirming. They've spent millennia believing they're the pinnacle of creation, and now a human comes to remind them their throne is borrowed. It must hurt."
"I don't care what they think," Daniel replied, and it was true. "They're not my audience."
"And who is your audience, kid?"
"Rias. Sona. Yasaka, who watched me leave. All of them, who trusted me. And Sirzechs too, even though I don't know him personally. I need him to see that I'm someone he can trust. That his sister is in good hands."
"Good hands," Ddraig repeated, with a tone Daniel couldn't quite interpret. "Yeah. I guess so."
In the VIP stands, Rias Gremory's parents—Lord Zeoticus Gremory and Lady Venelana Gremory—observed the unfolding events with carefully neutral expressions, though their demon hearts raced with conflicting emotions.
Zeoticus, a demon of distinguished bearing with dark crimson hair, kept his hands resting on the Gremory House's command staff. He was a retired warrior, but his instincts had never abandoned him. And at this moment, his instincts were telling him something his mind refused to accept.
"He's... muscular," Venelana, his wife, commented, with that tone of impeccable courtesy that characterized the ladies of the 72 Pillars. "Physically imposing, without a doubt. You can see he's trained his body with dedication."
"The body isn't everything," Zeoticus replied, though his gaze didn't leave the solitary figure in the waiting lobby. "A human, no matter how many muscles he has, is still a human. His magical capacity is inherently limited. His senses, dull. His longevity, a cruel joke."
"Rias speaks wonders of him," Venelana murmured, almost to herself. "She describes him as... exceptional. And Sirzechs too. Even Serafall, who is usually so eccentric, mentioned him in her last letter."
"Young people are easily impressed," Zeoticus countered, but his voice lacked conviction. "A high-ranking demon can simulate power for years. A human, on the other hand... what you see is what you get. And what I see is a kid who's going to be fodder for Phenex's flames in less than ten minutes."
Venelana didn't respond. But her eyes, sharp despite their apparent sweetness, continued to scrutinize Daniel Hernandez with an intensity that contradicted her facade of an idle lady.
In another sector of the stands, completely separate from the common nobles, a man with crimson hair and a majestic bearing watched the same scene with a smile that his fellow Maou couldn't interpret.
Sirzechs Lucifer, the most powerful Maou of the current generation and Rias's older brother, had seen many things in his thousands of years of existence. He had witnessed the rise and fall of empires. He had faced enemies whose mere mention made veteran demons tremble. He had mastered the Power of Destruction to a level that even his own father couldn't match.
But never, in all those millennia, had he seen a human like Daniel Hernandez.
"He's suppressing his power," he murmured, more to himself than to his companions. "Consciously, deliberately. As if breathing at full lung capacity would break something."
"Brother?" Rias's voice, at his side, was a tense whisper. She had insisted on watching the fight from the Maou's box, and Sirzechs hadn't had the heart to refuse. "What do you mean?"
Sirzechs didn't answer immediately. His eyes, capable of perceiving the subtlest fluctuations of demonic and spiritual energy, were fixed on the barely perceptible aura that enveloped Daniel like a second skin.
"When you told me about Nyx," he finally said, his voice carefully calm, "I thought you were exaggerating. Not because I doubted your word, Rias, but because the very concept was... inconceivable. A primordial goddess, even weakened, is still an entity of a conceptual order. It's not something you can defeat with brute force."
"But Daniel did," Rias replied, with a firmness that surprised even Sirzechs. "I saw it with my own eyes. I felt it. His power... it's not like ours, brother. It's not magical, it's not demonic. It's something more primitive, more fundamental."
Sirzechs nodded slowly.
"Yes. That's what worries me. Because that power he's suppressing now... it's significantly stronger than when he used it against Nyx."
Rias caught her breath.
"Stronger?"
"Much stronger," Sirzechs confirmed. "He's grown, Rias. In just a few weeks, he's made a qualitative leap that would take most demons decades, if not centuries. And the scariest part is that he doesn't even seem aware of it. To him, this is... natural."
Both fell silent, watching Daniel's solitary silhouette on the magical screen projecting the waiting lobby.
"Do you think he'll win?" Rias asked, her voice barely a thread.
Sirzechs smiled. It was a sad, almost melancholic smile.
"I don't know, little sister. But there's one thing I do know: if he loses, it won't be because he lacks power. It'll be because something more important is missing. And that, I'm afraid, is something no training can teach."
"—The conditions of the Rating Game have been established and accepted by both parties," Grayfia continued, completely ignoring the chaos her words had unleashed among the conservative nobles. "—If Lord Riser Phenax emerges victorious, the marriage engagement with Lady Rias Gremory will be executed immediately, and Lady Rias will become part of the nobility of the Phenex House. If Mr. Daniel Hernandez emerges victorious, the engagement will be permanently dissolved, and Lady Rias Gremory will retain the exclusive right to choose her own spouse, without interference from prior pacts."
Another murmur, this one more nuanced. Some demons—the younger ones, those with a more progressive mindset—nodded with veiled approval. The idea that a woman could choose her own destiny, even a woman of high nobility, was controversial but not completely unheard of in these times. Sirzechs himself had been a pioneer in many social reforms.
"—Final announcements," Grayfia proceeded. "—The battlefield is a magical reconstruction of Kuoh Academy, with a perimeter of one square kilometer. There is no time limit. Victory is declared when the King of one side is unable to continue the fight or formally surrenders. The use of external artifacts is permitted within reason. Murder is... technically prohibited, although in practice, Rating Games rarely stop for technicalities."
Daniel caught the slight emphasis on the word "technically". A warning, perhaps, or an implicit license. Phoenixes were immortal; Riser could die hundreds of times and keep fighting. He, on the other hand, was human. A mortal wound would be the end.
"—Any last-minute questions from the participants?"
Silence.
"—Then, let the Rating Game begin."
The invisible barrier that had confined Daniel to the lobby vanished with an audible click. The air, suddenly, felt freer, more alive. The battlefield opened before him, an expanse of concrete, glass, and steel that smelled of opportunity and danger.
Daniel took a step forward. Then another. And another.
The hunt had begun.
Kuoh's reconstructed sun—a perfect magical illusion, though Daniel knew there was no sun in the real Underworld—bathed the empty hallways in deceptively peaceful light. He walked with a firm but silent step, his senses expanded to the limit his Observation Haki could cover without conscious effort.
Three presences. Library in the main building. Pawns, judging by the density of their demonic energy. Nervous, expectant, waiting in ambush.
"How predictable," Daniel murmured, as he veered from his direct route towards the library's main entrance.
"Going around?" Ddraig asked, with genuine curiosity.
"No," Daniel replied, and his lips formed a cold smile. "I'm going in through the front door."
And he did.
The three pawns—young demonesses clad in a mix of light armor and revealing outfits that Riser had evidently selected more for aesthetics than functionality—barely had time to register his presence. One of them opened her mouth, probably to shout a warning or perhaps to impress him with her fierceness. She never got to make a sound.
Daniel moved.
He didn't use Boost. He didn't activate his Armament Haki. Just his base speed, which for a being who had traded blows with primordial gods was more than enough. He closed the distance in the span of a human blink, and his fist—simple, direct, unadorned—impacted the first pawn's solar plexus.
She folded like wet paper, her eyes wide with surprise and pain, and fell unconscious before hitting the floor.
The second pawn tried to retreat, to conjure a defensive spell. Her fingers traced half a circle in the air before Daniel's hand, moving with an economy of motion that bordered on artistic, caught her wrist and twisted it sharply. The spell dissipated in a shower of harmless sparks. A sharp blow to the nape of her neck, and she joined her companion on the floor.
The third pawn, at least, had the common sense to try to flee. She turned and ran towards the library's back exit, her heels—heels? In the middle of a fight?—echoing like gunshots on the marble.
Daniel didn't pursue. He simply... waited.
The pawn reached the door, her hand reaching for the handle, and then Daniel spoke.
"If you run out, Riser will punish you when this is over," he said, his voice a whisper that traveled through the library's silence with crystal clarity. "But if you stay to fight, you'll end up like your friends. Your choice."
She stopped. Her body trembled visibly, even from a distance. Slowly, very slowly, she turned to face him.
"I... I didn't want this," she stammered. "Lord Riser said it would just be a formality. He said the human would surrender when he saw us. He said..."
"Your Lord Riser," Daniel interrupted her, with a calm that was more terrifying than any shout, "is a liar and a coward. Lower your defenses. I won't hurt you more than necessary."
She hesitated. Her eyes scanned the motionless figures of her companions, then Daniel's inscrutable face. Finally, with a sigh that was pure relief, she let her shoulders drop and knelt.
"I... I surrender."
"—The Phenex House pawn, Yule Gertsburg, has surrendered! She is officially out of the Rating Game!"
Grayfia's voice, for the first time, contained a hint of... approval?
Daniel gave a brief nod towards the kneeling pawn and left the library without looking back.
"Three down," he murmured. "Nine to go."
His Observation Haki expanded, now covering the entirety of the reconstructed battlefield. It was like having a constantly updating mental map, an omniscient vision that penetrated walls, ceilings, and magical barriers.
Two presences in the gymnasium. A knight and a rook, by the energy signature. Defensive position, waiting. An obvious trap.
Three presences in the outer courtyard. Two pawns and a bishop, moving in a search formation. The vanguard.
Two more presences, static, in the northeast corner of the field. Riser's queen and... Riser himself. The Phoenix hadn't moved from his initial position. Arrogant. Confident.
The remaining pieces—one knight and the special bishop, Ravel Phenex—were moving through the hallways of the science building, apparently en route to his position.
Daniel traced his strategy in milliseconds. The isolated pieces first. Then the gymnasium trap. Then the stragglers. And finally, the King.
"I'm going to clear the board," he announced, and Ddraig laughed with satisfaction.
"That's the spirit, kid. Show them what it means to face a true predator."
The outer courtyard was an open field, ideal for ambushes and coordinated attacks. The three demonesses patrolling it—two pawns and a bishop, as he had detected—moved with a discipline that contrasted sharply with the panic of their comrades in the library. These had trained. These knew how to fight.
It didn't matter.
Daniel emerged from the shadows of the main building like a specter, silent and relentless. The first pawn never even saw him coming; a blow to the base of her skull and she fell like a sack of potatoes. The second pawn managed to let out a warning cry before a spinning kick caught her, sending her crashing into an ornamental fountain that shattered on impact.
The bishop—an older woman, with a serious expression and prematurely gray hair—showed why she had reached that rank. Her spell was fast, precise, a net of energy designed to immobilize rather than harm. Daniel dodged it by millimeters, his Observation Haki singing the trajectory of the attack before it materialized.
"Interesting," he conceded, as he closed the distance. "But slow."
His fist connected with the bishop's defensive shield, which cracked like glass. The second blow sent her to the ground, unconscious.
"—Two pawns and one bishop of the Phenex House have been defeated! The total casualties of the Phenex faction amount to six!"
The stands, which had remained in tense silence during the first minutes of the fight, erupted in a clamor of disbelief.
"—Six?! Already?!"
"—That human hasn't even broken a sweat!"
"—Impossible! Phenex's pawns aren't weak! I've seen Yule Gertsburg in combat, she's a competent warrior!"
"—Competent isn't enough, apparently."
Lord Zeoticus Gromory had dropped his cane. He didn't notice. His eyes were fixed on the screen, on the figure of Daniel Hernandez walking away from the courtyard without haste, as if he'd been out for a morning stroll instead of tearing through three trained demonesses in under thirty seconds.
"Venelana," he said, his voice a hoarse croak. "Was that...?"
"Yes, dear," his wife replied, with a calm that belied the wet gleam in her eyes. "I think he just earned the right for us to take him seriously."
The gymnasium smelled of burnt rubber and sweat, though it was a reconstructed, artificial smell. Daniel crossed the threshold with the tranquility of someone entering his own home, knowing perfectly well that two enemies were waiting for him in the shadows.
The knight attacked first, as expected. Fast, lethal, her sword tracing arcs of demonic light that could split steel. Daniel simply tilted his head, and the blade whistled past his ear without touching him.
The rook charged immediately after, her massive body turned into a battering ram of flesh and armor. Daniel jumped, using the rook's own inertia to propel himself and land gracefully behind her.
"Coordinated tandem," he commented, while dodging another slash from the knight. "You've trained this. How many times? A hundred? Two hundred?"
"Shut up!" the knight shouted, her frustration evident in every increasingly erratic movement.
"The problem," Daniel continued, unfazed, spinning to avoid a thrust that would have pierced his chest, "isn't your technique. Your technique is solid. The problem is you've spent your whole lives training against demons."
His fist—without Haki, just base strength—impacted the knight's side, and she was sent flying into the metal stands with a crash that echoed throughout the gymnasium.
"And I," Daniel said, turning towards the rook, who stared at him with wide eyes, "don't fight like a demon."
The rook tried to retreat, to conjure a barrier. Daniel was on her before she could complete the spell. A blow to the jaw, and the demoness fell like a felled tree.
The three reserve pieces, who had been waiting in secondary positions, emerged from their hiding spots when it became clear the trap had failed. Two pawns and an additional rook, these last ones with expressions of poorly disguised panic.
Daniel sighed.
"Seriously? You still want to continue?"
The additional rook—the youngest of the group, perhaps recently promoted—audibly swallowed. Her eyes darted to the motionless figure of her comrade, then to the knight groaning amidst the debris of the stands.
"I... I..."
Her pawn companion had no such doubts. She shouted something unintelligible and charged, her fists wreathed in demonic flames. Daniel dodged her effortlessly, caught her outstretched arm, and with a fluid motion, sent her crashing into the wall.
The second pawn attempted a coordinated attack, but her heart wasn't in it. Daniel knocked her out with a clean blow to the temple.
Only the young rook remained, trembling from head to toe, her eyes full of tears.
"Please," she whispered. "Please, don't..."
Daniel looked at her. He saw a girl—because that's what she was, a girl, probably not much older than Asia—who had been thrown into a fight she couldn't win, against an enemy she couldn't comprehend, by a King who saw her as disposable cannon fodder.
"Get down," he said.
She blinked, confused.
"Get down and cover your head," Daniel repeated, his voice softer now. "This is going to hurt a little, but it'll be quick."
She obeyed. Daniel raised his hand and, with surgical precision, applied pressure to the exact nerve point that induced instant unconsciousness. The young rook crumpled, but her fall was cushioned by Daniel, who gently laid her against the wall.
"—The knight, the rook, two pawns, and an additional rook of the Phenex House have been defeated! The total number of casualties now stands at eleven!"
A deathly silence fell over the stands.
Eleven casualties. Eleven trained, experienced demonesses, backed by centuries of tradition and magical prowess. All defeated by a single human. In less than ten minutes. Without breaking a sweat. Without using any significant artifacts. Without even breathing heavily.
"—My God," someone in the stands murmured. "—This kid is a monster."
Lord Zeoticus Gremory retrieved his cane. His hand trembled slightly.
"Venelana," he said, and his voice had regained some of its usual composure, though there was a new respect in it. "When this is over, I want us to invite Mr. Hernandez to dinner."
"Of course, dear," Venelana replied, and her smile was radiant. "Of course."
Daniel left the gymnasium and found himself face to face with the two remaining pieces of Riser's retinue.
The knight—the only knight he hadn't yet faced—was a woman with a severe expression and ornate armor, her hand resting on the hilt of a long sword that emitted a faint violet glow. Her posture was aggressive, defiant, but her eyes betrayed the fear her training couldn't hide.
The other was Ravel Phenex.
Daniel recognized her immediately, not by her physical appearance—though the ash-blonde hair identical to her brother's was unmistakable—but by her presence. She wasn't a combatant. Her demonic energy was dense but docile, oriented towards administration and strategy, not direct combat. She was a bishop in the most classical sense of the term: a support piece, not an attacker.
"Miss Phenex," Daniel greeted, with a courtesy that surprised even Ddraig.
Ravel blinked. Evidently, she hadn't expected to be recognized, much less treated with respect.
"You... know who I am?"
"I know who you are," Daniel replied. "And I know you're not here by your own will."
Ravel's eyes narrowed.
"How dare you insinuate I would disobey my brother?"
"I'm not insinuating it. I'm stating it. You're his sister, not his servant. And yet, he's dragged you into this Rating Game without caring that you have no combat experience. How many times have you set foot on a battlefield before today?"
Ravel didn't respond. Her silence was more eloquent than any denial.
"If you fight me," Daniel continued, "I'll hurt you. I don't want to. I gain nothing by humiliating someone who shouldn't be here. So I propose something: surrender. Now. And when this is over, if your brother punishes you for it, come find me. I'll help you."
The knight stepped forward, her sword partially drawn.
"Don't listen to his lies, Lady Ravel! This human is trying to weaken our morale!"
"Your morale is already weakened," Daniel replied, without looking away from Ravel. "I can see it in your hands. They're trembling. You don't want to be here. You don't want to fight me. And you're right: you shouldn't."
The knight charged.
It was a desperate attack, driven more by panic than strategy. Daniel dodged her with a lazy lateral movement, caught her wrist in mid-air, and using her own momentum, threw her to the ground. A sharp, precise blow, and the knight stopped moving.
"—The knight of the Phenex House has been defeated! The total number of casualties now stands at twelve!"
Ravel hadn't moved. Her eyes were fixed on the unconscious figure of the knight, then on Daniel, then on her own empty hands.
"I can't fight," she said, and her voice was barely a whisper. "I don't know how to fight. My brother always said my place was in the rear, designing strategies, managing resources. That my worth wasn't in the sword, but in the mind."
"Your brother is an idiot," Daniel replied, without inflection. "But on this, he's not wrong. Your worth isn't in the sword. It's in your ability to see the whole board, to anticipate moves, to find solutions where others only see problems. That's more valuable than any combat skill."
Ravel looked at him. For the first time, her eyes held no fear, but a more complex emotion, harder to name.
"Why...?" she began, but the words got stuck in her throat.
"Why am I being kind to you when your brother wants to marry my friend against her will?" Daniel offered an ironic smile. "Because you're not your brother. And you deserve to be judged by your own actions, not his."
Ravel lowered her head. Her shoulders trembled slightly.
"I... I surrender," she whispered.
"—Lady Ravel Phenex has surrendered! She is officially out of the Rating Game!"
Grayfia's voice, for the second time, contained that indefinable nuance. Approval? Surprise? Something deeper?
Daniel nodded towards Ravel.
"Good decision. Now get out of here. This is going to get ugly."
She obeyed, walking towards the perimeter of the battlefield with hesitant but firm steps. Before crossing the barrier that would transport her out of the Rating Game, she turned one last time.
"Mr. Hernandez," she said, and her voice was clear now, with no trace of her earlier insecurity. "My brother... he is strong. His fire is legendary. But he is proud, and pride blinds him. Do not make the mistake of underestimating him just because his servants were not up to your level."
Daniel smiled.
"I'm not underestimating him, Miss Phenex. I'm waiting for him."
Riser's queen attacked when Daniel least expected it.
Not in the sense that his Observation Haki hadn't detected her—he had sensed her positioning herself in his blind spot for several minutes, accumulating magic with a patience that betrayed years of training. The surprise was that she went to so much trouble.
She was known, according to the fragments of memory Daniel retained from his previous life, as the "Queen of Bombs." Her specialty was area-of-effect spells, massive explosions designed to annihilate entire armies. She wasn't a front-line warrior; she was a weapon of mass destruction with legs.
And now, that weapon was aiming directly at Daniel.
"There!" Ravel shouted, but it was already too late. Riser's queen emerged from her hiding spot, her hands wrapped in an orange glow so intense it seemed like a second sun.
Daniel felt the energy buildup. He saw, with his Observation Haki, the form the attack would take: a sphere of compressed fire that would expand into a conical explosion, covering a forty-five-degree angle and a radius of thirty meters. He also saw the exact point where the explosion would be most intense, and the exact point where it would be weakest.
He saw all this in the millisecond it took the queen to complete her spell.
And then he moved.
Not backward, as she expected. Not to the sides, seeking cover. Forward, directly towards the epicenter of the explosion, moving in a trajectory that made the most of the detonation cone.
To a normal observer, he simply... vanished.
"—Where is he?"—a noble's voice in the stands, sharp with disbelief. "—He disappeared!"
"—Teleportation? Some displacement artifact?"
"—I don't know... I didn't see any magic circle!"
The explosion detonated with a violence that shook the entire battlefield. The gymnasium, already damaged from the previous fight, lost its roof in an eruption of flames and debris. The ground cracked. Windows in the surrounding buildings burst into cascades of molten glass.
Riser's queen surveyed her handiwork with barely concealed satisfaction. It had worked. The human had been vaporized, reduced to ashes mixing with the charred remains of the gymnasium. It was a shame she'd had to sacrifice her comrades to achieve the perfect positioning, but Phoenixes always prioritized victory over casualties.
"Lord Riser will be pleased," she murmured, as the shockwave began to dissipate.
"Pleased about what?"
The voice came from behind.
From directly behind.
The queen spun so fast she nearly lost her balance. There stood Daniel Hernandez, less than two meters away, without a single smudge of soot on his uniform, without a single drop of sweat on his brow. His expression was one of mild boredom, as if he'd just witnessed a child's magic trick instead of a spell that could have wiped an entire city block off the map.
"That was close," he said.
Riser's queen opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"H-HOW?" she finally managed to articulate.
Daniel shrugged.
"You're fast at preparing spells, but slow at executing them. I had plenty of time to move into your blind spot while you were channeling the explosion. Good technique, poor situational awareness."
She screamed—a scream of frustration, of disbelief, of pure existential terror—and launched another spell, this one more direct, a spear of fire that tore through the air at supersonic speed.
Daniel tilted his head. The spear grazed his left cheek.
"No," he said.
She launched another. Daniel moved a step to the right.
"You can," another step to the left.
"Do it," a hip rotation.
"Better," a heel lift.
His fist, when it finally connected, was almost an act of mercy. A clean blow to the chin, the exact amount of force to induce instant unconsciousness without causing permanent damage. Riser's queen fell like a ragdoll, her eyes still open but empty, her mind already floating in the pleasant darkness of the knockout.
"—THE QUEEN OF THE PHENEX HOUSE HAS BEEN DEFEATED!"
For the first time, Grayfia's voice lost its glacial composure. It wasn't a scream, not exactly, but there was an edge of genuine astonishment that cut through the stands like a sword.
"—MR. DANIEL HERNANDEZ HAS DEFEATED THE ENTIRE RETINUE OF LORD RISER PHENEX! CONFIRMED CASUALTIES: TWELVE PIECES, INCLUDING THE QUEEN AND THE KING'S SISTER! ONLY LORD RISER REMAINS!"
The silence that followed was so absolute Daniel could hear his own heartbeat.
Then, chaos.
"—UNTHINKABLE!"
"—A HUMAN HAS ANNIHILATED A COMPLETE RETINUE!"
"—THE PHENEX... THE PHENEX HAVE BEEN HUMILIATED!"
"—This is historic! No human has ever achieved anything like this in the entire history of the Underworld!"
"—Forget history! This is a massacre!"
In the VIP box, Lord Zeoticus Gremory had abandoned all pretense of maintaining his composure. His cane lay forgotten on the floor, and his hands—the same hands that had mastered the Power of Destruction for millennia—trembled uncontrollably.
"Venelana," he said, and his voice was a hoarse croak. "That boy..."
"I know, dear," his wife replied, and her eyes shone with unshed tears. "I know."
Rias Gremory, from her position beside her brother, said nothing. She couldn't. Her heart was beating so loudly she feared everyone in the stands could hear it. Her hands were intertwined so tightly that her nails had left red marks on her palms.
But she was smiling.
Sirzechs Lucifer watched the screen with an expression his fellow Maou couldn't interpret. It wasn't surprise—he already knew, or at least suspected, that Daniel possessed this level of power. It wasn't relief—the main fight was still to come, and Riser Phenex was not an adversary to be taken lightly. It wasn't concern—Daniel's power was undeniable, and his control was exceptional.
It was, Sirzechs thought, something more akin to pride.
"I knew it," he murmured, so low that only Rias could hear him. "Ever since you told me about Nyx, I knew it. This kid is different. Not just because of what he can do, but because of what he is."
"And what is he, brother?" Rias asked, her voice a thin thread.
Sirzechs smiled. It was a sad, almost melancholic smile, but also hopeful.
"Someone who is going to change our world, little sister. For better or worse. And I think... I think for the better."
On the battlefield, Daniel waited.
The smoke from the explosion still hung in the air, mixing with dust from the debris and residue from the spells. Around him, the unconscious figures of the twelve pieces of Riser's retinue lay scattered like chess pieces after a devastating checkmate.
But the King was still standing.
Daniel spun on his heels, his senses focused on the only presence left on the field besides his own. Riser Phenex's demonic energy burned like a sun in the far northeast corner of the reconstructed campus, a flame of fury and humiliation so intense it was almost visible to the naked eye.
"Come on, Riser," Daniel murmured, as he began to walk slowly towards his final destination. "No more places to hide. No more excuses. Just you and me."
"Kid," Ddraig said, and his voice was unusually serious. "What's coming now won't be like the rest. Phoenixes are immortal. You can kill him a hundred times and he'll keep getting up. His endurance is almost infinite."
"I know," Daniel replied, without stopping.
"He's also arrogant, reckless, and blinded by his wounded pride. But that doesn't make him weak. A cornered enemy is the most dangerous."
"I know."
"So, what's your plan?"
Daniel smiled. It was a cold, predatory smile, the smile of a hunter who has finally cornered his prey.
"My plan," he said, "is simple. I'm going to give Riser Phenex the beating of his life. I'm going to break every bone in his body. I'm going to burn every feather on his wings. I'm going to make his Phoenix fire work overtime just to keep him alive. And when he finally surrenders, when he finally admits that a 'mere human' has defeated him without even trying..."
He paused.
"...then, and only then, will I allow him to understand that you don't mess with a man's family."
Ddraig's silence was the most eloquent of all roars.
"...You're terrifying when you want to be, kid."
"I know," Daniel repeated, and his footsteps echoed on the concrete as he walked into the flames that were already beginning to sprout from the northeast corner of the battlefield.
The Phoenix King awaited him.
And Daniel Hernandez was ready to prove why dragons had been, since the beginning of time, the supreme predators of all mystical creatures.
Fire could burn.
But the dragon always won.