Vali knew this attack was impossible to dodge. Even as he willed his body to escape, his sharp instincts screamed that it was futile. His worst fears were confirmed when his eyes caught the streak of Izashi descending swiftly, his gaze piercing as though he had seen through Vali's every thought.
A bead of sweat rolled down Vali's temple as a single, terrifying realization struck him: 'He anticipated me! He knew what I was trying to do from the start!'
Hovering above, Izashi commanded the skies like a sovereign lord. Beside him floated a towering humanoid figure, its very essence an embodiment of raw power. This time, the figure held something more formidable—a spear. It burned brightly, its tip ablaze with unrelenting flames, while the weapon's body radiated an ominous Crimson Red aura, the unmistakable manifestation of the Power of Destruction.
Izashi's lips curved into a faint, almost tender smile as he spoke, his voice gentle yet carrying the weight of inevitability, "Final Attack!"
To Vali, those two words sounded like his death knell. Panic surged through his veins as he evaluated his options. Dodging was out of the question; retreating would expose him to Izashi's flaming phoenixes, each of which radiated a menacing heat that could melt through the toughest magical barriers. Being hit by those? Unthinkable.
Desperation birthed a bold idea—a counter so risky it could either buy him time or spell his doom. His Sacred Gear, the Divine Dividing, flared with radiant blue wings as he reached deep into its power. With gritted teeth, Vali activated its signature ability, "Divide!"
The overwhelming aura rushing toward him faltered momentarily, halved by his effort. Relief flickered in his mind—but only for a moment. As the energy around Izashi diminished, Vali's stomach sank. 'The limits of my power… already reached? After just one divide?'
Even with his wings consuming energy at the rate of a Middle-Class Devil every second, there was simply no time to divide the power again. Izashi was closing the distance, spear poised with unyielding precision.
Vali inhaled sharply, his body tense as he readied his arms. Channeling the remnants of his devil magic into them, he prepared for a final, desperate counterstrike. Yet even as he tried to steel himself, another thought gnawed at the edges of his mind: 'It's not his power that scares me the most—it's his magic.'
Izashi's mastery of magic was unparalleled. He wielded the devastating Power of Destruction of the Bael Clan, its crimson energy consuming everything in its path. But even more baffling was his control over the ancient Phoenix Flames, their brilliance terrifying not just for their destructive potential, but for their regenerative qualities.
Vali's breath hitched as realization dawned. 'The Phoenix Flames aren't just an enhancement; they're sustaining him. His reserves of devil magic are practically limitless because of their regenerative nature.' His gaze flickered to Izashi's form, unrelenting and monstrous. 'If he also has Phenex blood… no wonder he hasn't tired at all. This isn't just overwhelming power—it's perfection.'
The clash came suddenly, shaking the heavens themselves. Vali's attack met Izashi's spear, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he had braced well enough. But the spear's destructive edge relentlessly chewed through his armor. Sparks of energy flew wildly as cracks began to appear, each one a sign of Izashi's overwhelming dominance.
The clash ended with a violent explosion that sent Vali plummeting from the sky. Wind howled past him as his battered form careened toward the earth. Even then, Izashi showed no mercy. A flock of fiery phoenixes burst forth, chasing after Vali with terrifying speed.
"Damn it!" Vali cursed, but he was too drained to react. The phoenixes struck him mid-fall, their flames detonating in a radiant explosion. When the dust settled, Vali lay on the ground, motionless save for the shallow rise and fall of his chest. His armor had vanished, his body reverted to its original state.
Every breath was agony. His limbs felt like lead, and he could feel that several bones had shattered. His once-proud form now bore the marks of utter defeat. As his vision blurred, his eyes caught sight of the sky. There, far above, Izashi still hovered, unscathed and composed, his figure like an avenging deity.
Vali's gaze wandered to the battlefield, and he caught a fleeting glimpse of Katerea Leviathan. She was mid-scream as a golden spear from Azazel pierced her chest, the purple orb at its end pulsating with deadly energy. She crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
Izashi, however, remained aloft, seemingly waiting for something—or someone. His expression was calm, but within, his thoughts raced. 'When will that guy show up? Or do I have to finish Vali off right here?'
His silent musings were interrupted by the sudden appearance of a figure. A young man with short brown hair materialized at the edge of the battlefield, his eyes widening in shock at the sight of Vali's crumpled form. In his hand was a staff that pulsed with latent energy.
"Who did this!?" the newcomer roared, his voice laced with anger and authority.
The outburst caught everyone's attention. Sirzechs Lucifer and Michael, now finished stabilizing the barriers, approached the scene cautiously. Michael's serene expression belied the fierce aura that radiated from him.
The angel's voice was calm but firm as he addressed the newcomer. "Who are you, young man?"
The brown-haired man stiffened under Michael's gaze, his caution evident. "Bikou!" he declared, gripping his staff tightly. "That's my name. Now, tell me—who did this to Vali?"
The tension in the battlefield crackled like the remnants of Izashi's attacks still hanging in the air. Sirzechs stepped forward, his aura calm but commanding, raising a hand to diffuse the rising hostility. "Listen," he began, his tone diplomatic yet firm, "there's no need for this to escalate. We can discuss this—"
But Sirzechs's attempt to mediate was abruptly interrupted by a voice sharp as a blade slicing through the stillness.
"I am," Izashi said coolly, the weight of his words freezing everyone in place. He took a step forward, his crimson gaze locking onto Bikou. "Do you have something to say to me?"
The battlefield went silent, save for the faint hum of residual energy. Bikou's grip on his staff tightened, his knuckles whitening under the strain. His narrowed eyes were fixed on Izashi, his lips curling into a scowl. "You—" he began, his tone brimming with restrained fury.
"Stop."
The single word hung in the air like a commandment, halting Bikou mid-sentence. His expression twisted into one of confusion as he turned toward the source. Lying battered and broken on the ground was Vali, his normally indomitable form reduced to a pale shadow of itself.
Vali's voice, weak and rasping, still carried enough authority to make Bikou pause. His bloodied hand shakily reached out, clutching the hem of Bikou's pants. "Don't," Vali whispered, his words punctuated by a wet cough that sent a spatter of blood to the ground. "You… you're no match for him."
Bikou's brows furrowed in disbelief, his frustration bubbling over. "What are you talking about, Vali? I can—"
"I mean it," Vali cut him off, his voice firmer despite the clear strain it placed on his broken body. His piercing gaze bore into Bikou's own, silencing any further protests. "He defeated me… in my Juggernaut Drive."
The weight of Vali's confession hit Bikou like a physical blow. His eyes widened as the implications sank in. He had seen Vali in his Juggernaut Drive before, had witnessed the terrifying power and the destructive potential it wielded. To think that someone had not only stood against it but overcome it—it was almost incomprehensible.
For a moment, Bikou's defiance wavered, replaced by sheer disbelief. He glanced back at Izashi, who now stood motionless, his arms crossed and his aura subdued yet still impossibly oppressive. Izashi's expression was calm, almost bored, as if Vali's admission was nothing but a routine acknowledgment of his superiority.
Bikou clenched his jaw, his fingers twitching around his staff. Every instinct screamed at him to attack, to avenge his fallen comrade. But the look in Vali's eyes—a mixture of pain and grim acceptance—stayed his hand. He let out a slow, frustrated breath and knelt beside Vali, his resolve crumbling.
"Damn it," Bikou muttered under his breath, his voice laced with bitterness. He placed a firm hand on Vali's shoulder, channeling golden energy into his comrade. The glow of a teleportation spell began to envelop them both, swirling and brightening with each passing second.
Before the spell took full effect, Bikou shot one last glare toward Izashi. His eyes burned with unspoken vows—promises of vengeance, perhaps, or of a future reckoning. Yet he said nothing, letting the look speak for him.
With a flash of golden light, the two vanished, leaving the battlefield eerily quiet.
Izashi slowly descended from the sky, his movement graceful and controlled, as if even gravity bowed to his command. His aura had faded completely, but the weight of his presence lingered, pressing on those around him.
The first to approach him was Sirzechs. The Lucifer moved with a casual confidence, though his crimson eyes gleamed with a mix of admiration and curiosity.
"Iza-tan," Sirzechs began, his tone light and teasing, "you always find ways to surprise me. That display of power… it was almost at my level. Almost."
Izashi's lips twitched into a faint smirk. "Almost?" he echoed, arching a brow. "I think you're giving yourself too much credit, brother."
Sirzechs chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Fair enough. But you've been holding back, haven't you?" His tone shifted slightly, becoming more serious. "That wasn't just raw strength—those were Phenex Flames. Flames of that purity and intensity aren't something you just… stumble upon."
The murmurs around them confirmed Sirzechs wasn't alone in his curiosity. Azazel, who had been quietly observing from a distance, stepped forward, his expression one of keen interest. "He's right, you know," the Fallen Angel commented. "I've seen Phenex Flames before, but nothing like that. Mind sharing the secret, Izashi?"
Izashi shrugged, his demeanor deliberately casual. "There's no secret," he said simply. "After reviving Ravel Phenex with my mutated Bishop piece, something… changed. I felt a connection to her, something deeper than what's typical with Evil Pieces." He paused, his eyes momentarily distant. "Shortly after, I experienced the worst pain of my life. When it passed, I woke up with the ability to use Phoenix Flames. That's all I know."
His explanation was met with a mixture of fascination and unease. Sirzechs stroked his chin thoughtfully, his expression serious. "Mutated Evil Pieces…" he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "Ajuka would have a field day trying to unravel this mystery."
Azazel let out a low whistle. "Well, whatever the reason, it's impressive—and terrifying. A Bael with the Power of Destruction and Phenex Flames? Talk about overkill."
Izashi smirked faintly but said nothing, letting the compliment hang in the air.
It was Izashi who broke the silence. "By the way, brother," he said, his eyes glinting with mischief, "where's my dear sister-in-law Grayfia? I don't see her around."
The sudden change in topic caught Sirzechs off guard. He hesitated for a fraction of a second before forcing a laugh. "Oh, she's back in the Underworld," he replied smoothly. "Handling paperwork, you know how lazy I can be with that sort of thing."
Izashi nodded, his expression unreadable. "Makes sense," he said evenly. "I wanted to show her a new move I came up with, but I guess it can wait. I wouldn't want to disturb her if she's busy."
Sirzechs's shoulders relaxed, though his unease didn't entirely dissipate. His younger brother's words carried no obvious malice, but there was something in Izashi's gaze—a glimmer of insight, perhaps—that made Sirzechs feel as though he were under scrutiny.
Izashi's smirk widened ever so slightly, but he said nothing more, letting the moment hang before turning away.
~~
A/N: I hope you all liked this long chapter.
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