This time, what remained after the conference was no longer mere tension… but a great question.
Peace—at least on paper—had been secured. From the very beginning, the three races had intended to realize it, regardless of the chaos that erupted at the end of the conference. Ironically, it was precisely because of that chaos that the reason to cooperate grew even stronger.
A new enemy had emerged, and the world was no longer as simple as black and white.
Sirzechs Lucifer did not immediately return to the Underworld. Together with Grayfia, he stayed longer in Kuoh—not as a Devil King overseeing a territory, but as an older brother who wanted to confirm the truth.
Rias and Akeno were summoned.
Not for interrogation, but to be asked for explanations.
In a quiet room, far removed from the post-battle turmoil, Sirzechs sat facing them. Grayfia stood at his side, her expression calm as ever, yet her eyes sharp—recording every detail.
"I want to know," Sirzechs said in a gentle yet firm tone, "what you know about Jun."
Rias let out a soft breath before beginning her story.
She told everything as it was. That Jun was just an ordinary friend—or at least, seemingly ordinary. Their meeting had begun with something trivial: a bookstore. Light novels. Coincidentally similar tastes.
From small conversations about fictional stories, their relationship slowly developed. There were no suspicious signs. No threatening aura. Jun was simply a calm human man—slightly mysterious, but pleasant to talk to.
"That's all I know," Rias concluded honestly. "To me… he's just Jun."
Sirzechs nodded slowly. There was no doubt in her story—and that, precisely, was what troubled him most.
Then it was Akeno's turn.
Akeno smiled as usual, her demeanor relaxed, but her words were more cautious. She spoke of most things—of Jun's kindness, of the way he treated others, of the calm he brought even in difficult situations.
But there was a part she skipped.
She did not mention that she had known Jun's identity as Cheon Ma from the very beginning. She did not mention their deeper encounters. She did not mention the emotional bond that now connected them.
Not because she wished to lie.
But because she had made a promise.
Sirzechs and Grayfia exchanged a brief glance. They sensed that something was being hidden—but not with malicious intent. And in a world like this, sometimes, secrets were a form of protection.
"If he is not an enemy, then that is good news," Sirzechs said heavily. Yet his gaze remained sharp, filled with vigilance. "But the problem is… that man knows Rizevim."
The room fell silent once more.
"That old devil," Sirzechs continued slowly, "disappeared before the end of the civil war. His trail vanished completely. For years I searched for him—using every intelligence network in the Underworld—yet found nothing."
He clenched his hand.
"Because I was bound by my duties managing the Underworld after the war, I was forced to put that search aside. And now… that name has been spoken again."
His tone hardened.
"That makes me wary."
Rias and Akeno could only remain silent. They felt the weight of that name, even if they did not fully grasp the horror behind it.
Grayfia, standing at Sirzechs's side, showed the clearest reaction. Her fingers trembled faintly, almost imperceptibly, yet enough to show that she knew who Rizevim truly was. As the chief servant of the Lucifer clan—and a living witness to the era of the civil war—that name was more than a historical record to her.
Sirzechs let out a breath, then looked at Rias and Akeno.
"For now," he said firmly, "if you encounter Jun again… investigate him more deeply."
The tone was not a harsh command, but a request heavy with responsibility.
"Yes, Nii-san," Rias replied without hesitation.
"Yes, Maou-sama," Akeno added with a faint smile, though her eyes reflected seriousness.
Sirzechs and Grayfia exchanged a glance. Without words, they nodded together.
It was time to return.
Serafall Leviathan still had many unresolved matters to handle—residual diplomacy, political repercussions, and the small chaos left behind by the conference. As a Maou and a diplomat, her real work was only just beginning.
...
Elsewhere.
Far from Kuoh.
Far from the light of peace agreements.
A dilapidated house stood in the middle of a desolate area. Its walls were cracked, its roof leaked, and the aura surrounding the place felt unhealthy—a mixture of magic, malice, and ambition unbound by any noble purpose.
This was where one of the splinter groups of the Khaos Brigade gathered.
Though under the great name of the organization, in reality the Khaos Brigade was not a single unified whole. Their goals were fragmented. Each faction sought to exploit the power of Ophis in its own way.
And this group—
Was Vali's group.
Inside the dilapidated house, several figures gathered.
Two of them stood side by side, their auras resembling ancient nobility.
Descendants of the legendary king of Britain—Arthur Pendragon.
And beside him, the descendant of the court sorceress and Arthur's wife—Le Fay Pendragon.
They were siblings, the blood of legend flowing through their veins.
Not far from them, a monkey yokai—Bikou, heir of the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, Sun Wukong—leaned against something with a gloomy expression, far removed from his usual cheerful demeanor.
And in the corner of the room stood a black-haired nekomata yokai, her tail swaying slowly.
Kuroka.
Koneko's sister.
Her eyes were fixed on the simple bed at the center of the room.
There lay Vali.
Her body was limp. Her breathing remained, but unstable. And most striking of all—the effect of the reversal had not yet faded. Her form had still not returned to normal.
Le Fay furrowed her brow, her hands filled with intricate magic circles that slowly faded away.
"…I can't," she muttered in frustration. "This isn't an ordinary curse. Even with all my knowledge, I can't undo this effect."
Silence enveloped the room.
Kuroka clicked her tongue softly.
"Fufufu… how embarrassing," she said, her tone sounding like light mockery, yet unable to fully hide her concern. "Our leader being toyed with like this."
Yet behind her faint smile and playful tone, her golden eyes sharpened.
There was wariness there.
And also interest.
She looked again at the figure lying weakly on the rickety bed—Vali, who usually stood at the summit with an aura of absolute dominance, now appearing fragile, even unfamiliar.
"Oh man…" Bikou ran a hand through his own hair in frustration. "I just finished dealing with those Aesir guys, you know? I thought after that I could relax for a bit. But instead, something this crazy happens in that small town."
He stared up at the ceiling of the dilapidated house, as if seeking answers there.
"I should've been there!"
"Are you seriously saying that now?" Arthur Pendragon replied coldly. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, the dim light briefly reflecting off them. "Look at Vali's condition."
His tone was firm, full of judgment.
"This isn't just a defeat. It's a humiliation… and also a warning."
Le Fay, who had been silent until now, stood beside Vali's bed with a grim expression. The magical symbols that had previously floated in the air had completely vanished, leaving behind unspoken frustration.
"The effect is still active," she said quietly. "And it's not the kind of magic that can be undone with conventional methods. It's as if… the cause itself refuses to be unraveled."
Silence fell.
Only the faint creaking of old wood stirred by the night wind could be heard.
Then—
Vali's eyelids twitched.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
Every pair of eyes in the room immediately turned toward the bed.
Vali opened her eyes.
Her pale blue gaze was blank for a moment, as if her consciousness was still drifting somewhere between dream and reality. Her breathing came in light gasps, her chest rising and falling irregularly.
"…Tch…" a weak hiss escaped her lips.
Kuroka gave a small grin.
"Oh? Finally awake," she said, her voice sounding light again, though her tail moved faster than before. "Welcome back, leader."
Arthur took a step forward. "Vali. How do you feel?"
Vali closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again. Her hand clenched weakly atop the rough sheets.
"…Annoying," she muttered. "Extremely annoying."
That tone—though weak—was the Vali they knew.
But behind it, there was something new.
//--//
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