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"Welcome, everyone," a venerable voice announced. It was an elder of high standing among the devils.
"You six represent the next generation of devils, impeccable in lineage and strength. Therefore, I propose a series of sparring matches before your formal debut, to foster growth and camaraderie."
So, this was the purpose of the gathering.
Even the Four Great Satans were present, indicating the importance of this event.
However, Badr knew their presence was primarily a deterrent against the Khaos Brigade and any potential schemes from the Norse pantheon. This competition was merely a sideshow.
"Will the victor have the opportunity to join the fight against the Khaos Brigade?" Sairaorg Bael inquired, his voice booming.
"Sairaorg, your courage is commendable, but this is reckless. Sending those still in their formative years onto the battlefield is something I've striven to avoid. I hope for your steady and safe growth."
"…Understood." With the Maou having spoken, Sairaorg could only acquiesce.
"Now then, let the challenges begin," Sirzechs declared with a subtle smile.
Badr couldn't shake the feeling that the Maou's smile was directed at him. A sense of foreboding washed over him.
His premonition proved correct. Someone stepped forward immediately.
"Lucifer-sama, regarding the Holy Sword gifted by the angels, which was bestowed upon a devil… is the recipient present?"
"Indeed. He is a member of my sister Rias's peerage."
"With all due respect, Lucifer-sama, and to the esteemed Maous present, I believe that such an honor, a symbol of friendship between devils and angels, should be entrusted to a young, high-class devil like myself!" Zephyrdor Bael declared, his tone respectful, yet laced with arrogance. Even he, the "Delinquent," wouldn't openly disrespectful before the Four Great Satans.
Sirzechs smiled faintly. "So, you wish to challenge Rias?"
"Precisely! My Knight is a high-class devil. It's unfitting for someone who doesn't even have a high-class devil in their peerage to wield such an important Holy Sword."
Rias's eyes flashed with anger as she rose to her feet.
"Zephyrdor, you have some nerve to target my servant!" she snapped, accepting the challenge head-on. "Very well, I accept!"
Behind her, Badr's lips thinned. 'Here we go again…' he thought.
His "brother-in-law" was definitely getting back at him.
There was nothing he could do now. He had anticipated this scenario.
'Might as well get it over with.'
Badr stood up calmly, the eyes of everyone in the hall turning towards him.
He unbuttoned his formal attire, shrugged off his jacket, loosened his tie, and with a flash, he appeared on the arena stage, looking sharp in his dress shirt.
"I am Badr, Rias Gremory's [Knight]. The Holy Sword you speak of is right here."
He casually planted Ascalon in the center of the arena.
Looking up at Zephyrdor, Badr offered a calm, easy smile. "You're welcome to try and take it."
Zephyrdor snorted. "Hermes, you're up."
A female devil materialized behind him, a sharp sword in her hand.
"Hermes, [Knight] of Zephyrdor-sama, Don't say I didn't give you a chance. Pick up your sword." Hermes spoke coldly, her tone dripping with disdain.
"The Holy Sword is at stake. I can't use it," Badr replied with a faint smile. He pulled a silver toothpick from his pocket, holding it delicately between two fingers. He smiled at Hermes. "I'll use this."
…
His words echoed across the vast arena.
The reactions among the devils varied.
Many wore amused smiles. A bit of conceit wasn't frowned upon among devils, and Badr's display had piqued their interest.
Zephyrdor's face darkened.
While this was a battle between servants, it reflected directly on the masters' reputation.
Badr's actions were a blatant insult to him.
As expected, Hermes's initially attractive face twisted into a mask of fury. She glared at Badr, her eyes burning with killing intent.
"Bastard! you humiliate me! I'll kill you for my master!" she snarled.
She lunged at Badr, her form a blur.
With a surge of demonic power, Hermes appeared before Badr in a flash. Her sword, glowing crimson with demonic energy, descended towards his head!
Badr remained unfazed. He flicked the toothpick he had picked up from the banquet table.
Without even a flicker of demonic power, he effortlessly blocked Hermes's ferocious strike.
Hermes was stunned. A wave of humiliation washed over her as she attacked again, her sword a blur of motion.
But no matter how she attacked, Badr parried every blow with a single hand, his upper body remaining perfectly still.
As he deflected her attacks, he even had the leisure to speak. "I'm not trying to humiliate you. I simply believe this is enough to defeat you."
Hermes was a mixture of shock and rage. She couldn't comprehend the level of Badr's power. He was like an immovable mountain, her attacks no more than a gentle breeze.
The humiliation was unbearable. It wasn't the prospect of defeat that infuriated her, but the silent mockery.
One moment she was looking down on this low-class devil, the next she was being completely outclassed without him even seeming to try.
Hermes snapped.
"Die! Die! Die!" she shrieked, her face contorted, her veins bulging as she pushed her demonic power to the limit.
Badr's black eyes reflected the image of the now-unhinged woman, his expression remaining calm.
As Hermes unleashed a furious barrage of demonic slashes, Badr raised his right hand, the silver toothpick between his fingers suddenly gleaming brightly.
He flicked his fingers. The toothpick transformed into a silver streak, moving too fast for Hermes to react. It pierced her heart in an instant.
Hermes froze, a silver trail of demonic energy lingering in the air, leaving the onlookers bewildered.
"Go on, it's just a toothpick through the heart. She'll live. Zephyrdor, your servant is weak. She can't even win when someone's going this easy on her."
Someone in the crowd taunted, adding fuel to Zephyrdor's burning rage.
"Concede, or your servant will die," another devil said with a cold smile. "That devil's magic has already taken control of Hermes's heart. Feel free to let your servant continue if you doubt it."
The devil's observation was accurate.
With that single, condensed strike, Badr had channeled a significant amount of demonic power into Hermes's heart.
The silver line wasn't residual magic. With his [Absolute Mastery] ability, he wouldn't waste magic like that. It was a carefully crafted thread of condensed demonic power, a conduit.
And at the other end of that conduit, within Hermes's heart, was a ticking time bomb.
Badr held his hand steady, the silver thread wrapped around his index finger. A simple twitch was all it would take to detonate the magic within Hermes's heart.
Hermes's movements ceased. The threat of imminent death sent a chill down her spine. She couldn't believe that a single attack from Badr had placed her life in his hands.
But if she surrendered, her master would never forgive her… her fate might be worse than death!
She instinctively took a step towards Badr.
Badr's expression remained impassive as he tugged lightly on the silver thread. Hermes felt a sharp pain in her chest.
She glanced at Zephyrdor, only to be met with his icy glare.
"…Aagh!!!" Despite the terror in her eyes, Hermes lunged desperately towards Badr.
Badr didn't move. He didn't detonate the magic within her.
"Enough."
A calm voice echoed through the arena. An immense pressure descended, suppressing Hermes's demonic power.
Sirzechs Lucifer looked at Zephyrdor, his expression neutral. "Your servant has lost. Do you wish for her to continue this pointless attack and risk her life?"
Zephyrdor's face was grim. He had no choice but to concede. "…She has lost, Lucifer-sama."
Badr withdrew the silver thread, his gaze fixed on Zephyrdor. "Stop sending your servants to their deaths. If you have the guts, come down here yourself."
His calm yet incredibly arrogant words echoed through the arena, causing everyone present to stiffen.
"Damn, I kind of like this kid's attitude…" a high-class devil muttered, slapping his thigh. they felt a vicarious thrill, as if they were the ones standing on the stage.
Sirzechs winced internally. 'This kid's got fire in his belly today,' he thought. 'His killing intent is palpable.'
Zephyrdor's face was livid. He glared at Badr with undisguised hostility.
Badr smiled faintly, beckoning Zephyrdor with a casual flick of his finger.
It was a blatant provocation.
He normally wouldn't bother with such displays, but today was different.
Not only was he representing Rias honor, but he also had his own reasons.
Did these devils think he was an easy target?
Now that he was in the arena, he wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon. He would beat every single one of these young devils into submission, once and for all!
…
A devil in the crowd whistled at Badr's gesture.
They were all enjoying Zephyrdor's humiliation.
Zephyrdor was the heir to the House of Glasya-Labolas, The other families present were thoroughly amused by his predicament.
Rias, though surprised by Badr's boldness, was supportive.
She never backed down from a fight, and there was nothing wrong with putting someone in their place, especially in the devil world, where strength reigned supreme.
Zephyrdor seethed, but he couldn't step into the arena.
The reason was simple. He was a [King], while Badr was a servant. If he fought, he would become a laughingstock before even landing a blow.
A King fighting a servant? He would disgrace his entire family.
...
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