"Can we begin the match between Rias-sama and Sona-sama now?" Grayfia's calm, steady voice cut through the laughter and chaos, pulling everyone back to the reason they had gathered.
"Of course," Sirzechs replied smoothly. A sly smirk tugged at his lips as he glanced toward Serafall. "But forgive me, Serafall… my Rias will win today's game."
"Ufufu~ too bad, Sirzechs-chan," Serafall countered with a playful wink. "My precious Sona-chan is absolutely going to take the victory."
Odin let out a scoff, resting his chin against one hand like a bored monarch. "Hmph. Boast all you like, but I only hope your little brats can at least keep me entertained."
Azazel leaned forward, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "How about we raise the stakes a bit? Instead of just Rias versus Sona… why don't we throw Shin-kun's team into the mix to fight both of them?"
The room erupted.
"H-Huh?! Are you insane, Old Man?!" Issei practically jumped out of his seat, his face pale. "That means… I'd have to fight Koneko-chan and Shin-san?! That's suicides!"
Sona adjusted her glasses with her usual composed elegance, her sharp gaze locking onto Azazel. "Are you mocking us? My peerage is not so weak that you can casually use us for your amusement."
Rias folded her arms, her crimson hair swaying as she narrowed her eyes. "Sona is right. My team has trained hard for this day. If we won under such unfair conditions, it would hardly be a true victory."
Their resistance only deepened Azazel's grin. "Oh? So the two heiresses of the Maou bloodline would rather avoid testing themselves against the strongest wild card we've seen in years? Where's your devilish pride now?"
The air grew heavy, tension curling around the room. Sirzechs and Serafall exchanged glances, both Maou siblings tapping their chins thoughtfully before slowly nodding in agreement.
"In that case…" Sirzechs said at last, his gaze sliding to the boy at the center of it all. "Shin. Would you and your companions be willing to join the match?"
____
[Ding! Special Quest Activated]
[Defeat Rias Gremory and Sona Sitri in rating games]
___
Satria raised an eyebrow. "Do we get anything if we accept?"
"Of course," Serafall answered with her usual sing-song cheer. "Think of it as our way of thanking you for giving our little sisters some much-needed experience in real battle."
Satria glanced at his wives. Kiyohime smirked behind her fan, eyes glinting with amusement. Jeanne gave a serene nod, calm as ever. Koneko rolled her shoulders, cracking her knuckles with a quiet intensity.
"We don't mind sparring," Jeanne said softly.
"Ara~," Kiyohime chuckled. "As long as my darling doesn't break them too badly."
"…No hard feelings," Koneko added, her tone flat but her golden eyes promising otherwise.
Satria gave a carefree shrug. "Then it's settled. We'll join."
•
The arena shimmered to life, magic barriers locking into place. On one side stood the peerages of Rias Gremory and Sona Sitri, lined in formation. Their expressions were serious—this wasn't just another Rating Game, but a test against a completely unpredictable enemy.
On the other side, Satria's "team" looked almost too relaxed.
Kiyohime, fan half-covering her face, eyes glowing with anticipation.
Jeanne, serene as ever, silver armor gleaming like a saint descended.
Koneko, cracking her knuckles, tail twitching impatiently.
And then there was Satria, who had casually summoned a cheap plastic chair out of nowhere, sitting on it like a man at a park barbecue.
Rias narrowed her eyes. "Listen up. Don't underestimate him. Shin might sit back and act lazy, but in close combat… he's dangerous. Treat him as the real threat."
Satria waved dismissively, leaning back in his chair. "Relax, relax. I'm just here to play support. Don't overthink it. I'll let my girls handle the heavy lifting."
The smug grin on his face made Rias's blood boil. "Tch. You'll regret looking down on us."
With the referee's signal, the match began.
Satria didn't even stand. He raised two fingers like a commander and spoke into the comm-link crystal strapped to his wrist. His tone shifted instantly—calm, precise, a soldier and strategist in one.
"Jeanne, you're the shield—lock their knight and pawn down. Kiyohime, pressure the king and queen, force them to split their spells. Koneko, rush their rooks and bishop first—don't let them connect their lines. We'll break their formation in two minutes flat. Let's stomp them like the noobs they are."
His girls moved with chilling precision.
Jeanne strode forward like an unstoppable wall, deflecting volleys of magic from the bishops with divine light, her sword carving glowing arcs that forced Tomoe and Kiba to retreat.
Kiyohime laughed behind her fan, spewing out dragon flames that disrupted Akeno's lightning chants, forcing the priestess of thunder onto the defensive.
Koneko blurred in, fists shrouded in touki, striking with brutal efficiency as she hammered into Saji, preventing him from deploying his absorption lines.
From the stands, Azazel's jaw dropped. "This… this isn't just brute strength. He's coordinating them like a pro team. Those movements… they're precise, deliberate. Like he's—"
"Like he's playing a strategy game," Serafall finished, eyes wide.
"I'm pro, not act like a pro. Top leaderboards in Dota not without reason." Meanwhile, Satria sat with one leg crossed, sipping from a soda can he'd conjured, as though this was nothing more than practice. "Mid's overextending. Rotate top. Collapse on the rooks. Clean sweep incoming."
Rias clenched her fists, teeth gritted. "Damn him! He's treating this as if we're children fumbling with toys…!"
But even as her fury grew, her peerage members began to falter. The coordination, the pressure—it was like fighting not three opponents, but an entire army under one ruthless commander.
And Satria hadn't even moved from his plastic chair.
Koneko's small frame blurred forward, aura exploding as Matatabi's flames cloaked her body. Blue fire licked her skin, her eyes glowing like twin suns.
"Matatabi Mode—Touki Burst."
Issei staggered back. "W-Whoa! Koneko-chan?!" He barely activated his Boosted Gear before her kick slammed into his chest, sending him skidding.
Saji tried to connect his absorption line, but Koneko ripped it away with her flaming claws, the cord burning to ash. "Too slow."
Tsubasa intercepted with her halberd, only to have it snapped in half by a single flaming punch.
"Ravel, help Issei!" Saji shouted, scrambling back. Ravel ignited her phoenix fire to support, but Koneko charged straight through the flames unfazed, landing a crushing uppercut that launched Issei into the barrier.
Asia, trembling, raised her Twilight Healing. "Please endure this, everyone!" She cast her healing spell over her allies, but Koneko's aura kept eating away at their stamina like wildfire.
From his chair, Satria smirked, voice calm. "Textbook overcommit. You don't 5-man dive a fed carry. Koneko—split 'em. Pick off their support first."
"Roger," Koneko replied flatly.
Asia gasped as the Nekomata vanished from sight.
On the opposite side, the temperature spiked. Kiyohime's dragon flames coiled around her body, her fan snapping open like a serpent.
Rias hurled destruction orbs in rapid volleys, each large enough to wipe out a house. Akeno followed with thunderclouds, lightning crashing down.
Sona and Tsubaki layered support magic, barriers forming around their king.
But Kiyohime… danced. Every sweep of her fan redirected flames, bending lightning into the ground, even twisting parts of Rias's power back at her.
"You still don't understand, do you?" Kiyohime purred, hiding her smile behind her fan. "Your magic is beautiful, yes… but it is also predictable."
Rias growled. "Don't underestimate me!" She charged in, destruction flaring.
Kiyohime laughed softly, unleashing a torrent of jade-green dragonfire that swallowed Rias's attack whole. The shockwave forced all four devils back.
Satria sipped his soda. "Pressure the mid-laners. Their support's too busy patching holes. Kiyohime, bait their pride."
"As you wish, my Danna-sama~." Her fan snapped shut as she unleashed a fiery whirlpool that trapped Rias and Akeno inside.
Jeanne stood tall, her silver blade gleaming. Kiba and Xenovia rushed her at once, blades flashing.
"Balance Breaker—Sword Birth!" Kiba unleashed a flurry of demonic blades, Xenovia following with Durandal's holy might.
Jeanne parried both at once, every strike ringing like church bells. "Your swordsmanship is sharp… but lacks conviction." With a single sweep, her blade lit up, knocking both back several steps.
Tomoe fired arrows of water, Gasper tried freezing time to lock her down—only for Jeanne's radiant aura to burn through the stasis, her will too unyielding.
Gasper gasped, clutching his eye. "She… broke my ability?!"
Satria chuckled from his plastic throne. "Of course she did. She's a hard counter, Vampire Trap. Don't ever try to 1v1 a raid boss with a stopwatch."
Jeanne raised her blade high. A halo flared behind her, and her voice boomed like a hymn.
"By the Lord's will—fall back!"
A wave of holy light exploded, scattering all four opponents across the arena floor.
Azazel, watching from the stands, broke into nervous laughter. "This isn't a fight. This is a coordinated stomp. They're not just strong—they're synergized like they've trained for years!"
Serafall puffed her cheeks. "Mouu~ my Sona-chan's in trouble…!"
Odin leaned forward, laughing heartily. "Wahahaha! What entertainment! This boy commands his women as though they're extensions of himself! Magnificent!"
Sirzechs's expression darkened. "No… it's worse. He hasn't moved from that chair. He's treating this like a game… and still dominating."
Koneko crouched low, her Matatabi flames burning hotter. She clasped her hands together.
"Kage Bunshin no Jutsu."
Blue-fire clones burst into being, charging the enemy. Issei, Saji, and Tsubasa attacked furiously, cutting them down one after another—only to realize too late.
"They're just bait—!" Ravel gasped.
The real Koneko slipped behind the line, her claws glowing with blazing Touki. Asia barely turned before a palm strike landed gently—but firmly—on her stomach, knocking her unconscious without harm.
"One down," Koneko muttered, tail swishing.
On the other side, Rias and Akeno staggered under the relentless torrent of jade-green dragonfire. Their defenses crumbled. Tsubaki's barriers shattered like glass, Sona's magic circles cracked one after another.
"You fight with fire…" Kiyohime's voice was honeyed venom, "…but you cannot resist a dragon's flames."
She twirled her fan, creating a roaring vortex of dragonfire that cornered the four of them against the barrier. Rias grit her teeth, fury in her eyes, but even she knew—this was domination.
Meanwhile, Jeanne stood like a saint among ruins, her holy banner raised high.
Kiba and Xenovia panted, their blades trembling. Tomoe's arrows shattered against her aura, Gasper's time-freeze useless against her blazing conviction.
Jeanne advanced one step at a time, each swing of her blade releasing waves of light that forced them further back.
"Your swords are strong," she declared, "but they lack the faith to endure."
Her blade struck down, creating a shockwave that knocked all four flat against the dirt.
But then— "BOOST!! BOOST!! BOOST!!"
Red aura erupted as Issei stood tall, his voice echoing through the arena.
"Balance Breaker!"
The crimson armor of the Red Dragon Emperor manifested, and his roar shook the battlefield.
"Welsh Dragon Balance Breaker!!"
With a burst of speed, Issei charged straight at Koneko, gauntlet glowing. She braced herself, crossing her arms. The impact detonated like thunder, the ground beneath her exploding outward.
When the dust cleared, Koneko stood firm—skin bruised, breathing heavy, but still on her feet.
Satria's chair scraped against the stone as he finally stood, eyes widening. "Oh shit! Koneko, are you okay?"
The Nekomata turned, sweat dripping down her cheek, but her golden eyes remained steady. "I'm okay. Just small wounds, senpai."
Satria clenched his fists, then pointed at Issei like some over-the-top anime hero. "I can't let this slide—you'll pay for hurting my nakama!" And then—without shame—he struck a ridiculous pose, chest puffed out, one fist raised toward the sky. "BY THE POWER OF SUN!! I… HAVE… THE POWER!!!" A shockwave of golden brilliance erupted, flooding the battlefield. His aura expanded like a second dawn, burning away shadows and washing everything in radiant warmth.
Koneko's wounds vanished, her Matatabi flames igniting with renewed fury. Jeanne's fatigue melted, her banner blazing as if freshly blessed by Heaven itself. Kiyohime's dragonfire surged with terrifying intensity, emerald flames roaring higher than before.
Meanwhile, their enemies hissed in pain—devils shielding their eyes as the holy radiance licked at their skin, their strength draining as if the Sun itself rejected them.
It was healing for his allies… and judgment for his foes.
Jeanne facepalmed, though her lips twitched with a smile. "Geez, Honey… you always have to overdramatize everything."
Kiyohime, however, spread her fan with pride, her voice clear and commanding. "Is that what you wished to see, Amaterasu-sama? Then burn this moment into your eyes. This is my danna-sama's answer—power not to dominate, but to heal, protect, and guide."
From the stands, Amaterasu half-rose from her seat, golden eyes wide in disbelief. "Impossible…" she whispered, her divine composure faltering. "This boy… his power mirrors mine. Yet he bends the sun not as a weapon of wrath… but as a balm for the wounded…" Her lips trembled, her pride as the Sun Goddess shaken. "To heal with the Sun's light… I never believed such a thing could exist."
The arena fell silent, broken only by the crackling of Kiyohime's flames and Jeanne's holy banner fluttering in the light.
And there stood Satria—still frozen in his ridiculous pose, glowing like a goddamn golden action figure.
Sona adjusted her glasses, though sweat trickled down her temple. Her calm tone couldn't hide her disbelief. "How… how can a human be this strong?"
Satria clenched his fist, golden light still radiating around him. His grin widened. "Human? Hah! You're slow on the uptake, sister of Maou. I'm more than that!" The light bent around him, his form shifting—then, with all the seriousness of a divine revelation, he revealed… A man in a inflatable T-Rex costume.
Gasps filled the arena. Akeno choked on air. Xenovia nearly dropped her sword. Odin actually spat out his drink.
"My name is Shin!" Satria declared with the booming voice of a hero delivering his final speech. "King of Beasts! Tamer of the Sun! Countless people have carried me to this very moment. And now—here I stand! Not as a human, not as a devil… but as the Emperor of the Universe!" He struck another ridiculous pose, his dino-tail flopping with a comedic squeak. "And with all my power, I challenge you! Let's show them the strength of our bond, everyone! GERONIMOOOO!!!"
The arena went dead silent for two beats.
Then—
Rias' head visibly popped a vein, her crimson eyes blazing with fury. "You… YOU… I HATE YOU!!!" she screamed, wings flaring.
"Pffft—BAHAHAHAHAHA!" Azazel doubled over, holding his stomach. "I'm sorry—I can't—A T-Rex?! Shin-kun, you absolute lunatic!"
Odin slammed the table, laughing until tears streamed down his face. "BY THE GODS! He declares himself Emperor of the Universe… dressed as a lizard! I love this boy!"
Amaterasu, on the other hand, buried her face in her palm, muttering, "Why… why must a bearer of the sun humiliate me like this…"
Jeanne sighed, but there was no hiding her smile. "That's my husband… embarrassing the world, yet leading it at the same time."
Kiyohime, proud as ever, raised her fan with a gleam in her eye. "Ara~ this is why I love him. No matter what, he's unshakable."
Koneko simply deadpanned. "…Senpai is an idiot." But her tail flicked happily behind her.
And then it happened.
Satria's buff surged through his team, golden radiance flaring like a second sun.
Koneko multiplied with blazing kagebunshin, her clones overwhelming Issei, Saji, and Ravel. She baited them into a corner, then took Ravel down in a clean strike, unraveling their last support and tilting the field instantly.
Kiyohime's flames spiraled into a dragonstorm, pressing Rias, Akeno, Sona, and Tsubaki back to the brink of collapse. Their magic shattered under her relentless pressure until only desperation held them standing.
Meanwhile, Jeanne became an unstoppable knight, her renewed strength pushing back Kiba and Xenovia, Gasper's time magic faltering under her banner's burning radiance. Tomoe fell first, then Gasper was overwhelmed by her holy strikes.
The tide had turned completely.
And in the middle of it all, the ridiculous inflatable T-Rex loomed over the battlefield, radiating divine glory as if the very heavens had crowned him king.
The audience didn't know whether to laugh, cheer, or pray.
The battlefield trembled as the remnants of Rias and Sona's peerages regrouped. Their eyes locked on the absurd figure of Satria in his inflatable T-Rex suit, glowing like a miniature sun.
Rias' crimson aura blazed to its peak, her destruction magic swirling violently. Sona's glasses reflected countless glowing magic circles as her tactical mind whirred at full throttle.
"Rias! Sync with me!" Sona barked, her voice sharp.
"Already on it!" Rias roared, power spiraling around her.
Chains lashed outward—Saji's Absorption Line, tethering the two leaders together. Energy poured through him, veins bulging as he screamed in strain. "I'll—link your powers! Take everything from me and use it!"
Beside him, Issei's Boosted Gear flared crimson, Balance Breaker fully unleashed. The massive red gauntlet pulsed as Ddraig's voice shook the air.
"BOOST! BOOST! BOOST! BOOST! BOOST!"
Each pulse poured into Rias and Sona, their magic swelling beyond natural limits. Flames of Destruction merged with storms of Precision, water and fire, logic and chaos, devil magic intertwining into a singular overwhelming force.
The arena itself quaked under the pressure. Even veterans like Azazel and Odin leaned forward, brows raised.
"This… this is no child's play anymore," Azazel muttered, eyes narrowing.
The Maou sisters unleashed their combined might—an apocalyptic torrent of destruction. Crimson hellfire fused with endless torrents of water, both sharpened by tactical precision and amplified by Issei's boosted power. A single beam, a cataclysmic spear of annihilation, carved toward Satria's team with the force to level mountains.
It was their last gambit. Their all-or-nothing strike.
But Satria only grinned inside his ridiculous dinosaur suit.
His eyes glowed—not with fear, but with the sharp gleam of a gamer who's seen this scenario a thousand times before. "Ahhh… classic. Final boss combo attack. Enemy squad huddles together for the big finisher. I know this script."
He raised his hand, golden aura surging. His voice rang through the minds of his wives.
"Girls—Formation 404: Error Not Found!"
"Understood!" Jeanne cried, thrusting her banner skyward. Holy light flared, erecting a radiant wall that caught the devastating beam.
"As you wish, Danna-sama~," Kiyohime sang, her dragonfire spiraling into twin storms that boxed their enemies in, forcing the torrent of destruction upward into the sky.
"…Senpai," Koneko whispered. Her kagebunshin swarmed forward like spectral tigers, striking their exhausted opponents and disrupting their focus at the exact moment their spell reached its peak.
The combined ultimate attack—Rias' Destruction, Sona's Tactical Water Magic, Issei's Boosts, Saji's link—was diverted skyward, detonating in a colossal explosion that turned night into day.
And through that blinding storm, Satria stepped forward.
Still in his squeaky, bouncing inflatable T-Rex suit.
He raised his fist, golden energy exploding around him. "Finishing move…"
The arena fell silent, waiting.
"…SUNBURST: DINO NUKER!!!"
The world went white. A wave of sunlight roared outward, purifying and searing everything in its path. Allies were healed, fatigue washed away. Enemies collapsed under the radiant blast, overwhelmed, drained, defeated.
When the light faded—Rias, Sona, Issei, Saji, and the rest of their peerages lay sprawled across the arena floor, unconscious but alive.
Grayfia's voice, crisp and unshaken, cut through the silence:
"The winners are… Shin and his team!"
Serafall slammed both fists on the table, puffing her cheeks. "Nuuu! My So-tan! This is unfair! Shin-kun cheated with… with… with a dino suit power-up!!!"
Sirzechs exhaled slowly, pride and relief mingling despite his loss. "Rias, you fought well. You truly did. But today… fate favored someone else." His gaze drifted to Satria. "…No. Not fate. Him."
Odin slapped the table so hard the wood cracked, tears streaming down his face. "BAHAHAHA! THE BOY DECLARES HIMSELF EMPEROR OF THE UNIVERSE—IN A LIZARD SUIT! I DEMAND YOU BE MY GRANDSON!"
Azazel was too busy wheezing to speak, jotting something in a notebook. "Dino… Nuker… oh gods… history… this is history…"
Amaterasu, however, sat frozen, her divine pride wounded deeper than anyone else's. Her lips trembled as she whispered: "…Healing with the Sun. Destroying with the Sun. And humiliating me with the Sun… Who is this boy?"
Satria—still in his inflatable T-Rex costume—raised a big thumbs-up to the crowd.
"And that, ladies and gentlemen… is how you stomp noobs. GG, well played."
•
The VIP room shimmered with soft light, a welcome retreat after the chaos of the battle.
Kiyohime chuckled low, brushing Satria's messy hair with her claws. "Fufufu… my danna-sama, standing tall in a dinosaur suit and conquering devils. You truly are the most dazzling man alive."
Jeanne, however, folded her arms and scolded like a mother catching her child sneaking cookies. "Honestly, Honey! That kind of flashy move—again! You nearly gave me a heart attack. A little restraint wouldn't kill you."
Koneko leaned back with her arms crossed, deadpan but with the faintest smirk tugging her lips. "…Senpai did good. I'm proud. Even if it was stupid."
Satria only sighed contentedly, resting against Kiyohime's shoulder while the three girls fussed over him in their different ways. "Ahh… this is the life. Victory, snacks, and three angels—well, maybe one dragon and one tigress—pampering me. Somebody pinch me."
But before anyone could quip back, the air itself shifted.
A radiant brilliance descended into the chamber, more serene and overwhelming than even his "Sunburst Dino Nuker." Wings of purest white unfurled, bathing the room in celestial glow.
Michael, leader of the Angels, had arrived—Irina at his side, her eyes wide with childlike awe.
"I have watched and heard everything," Michael's voice resonated like music, calm but commanding. "From start… to end." His eyes turned to Jeanne. "My name is Michael, the Archangel. Tell me… is it true? You are Jeanne d'Arc?"
Jeanne froze, breath catching in her throat. For the first time in a long while, the ever-composed saintess looked uncertain. "…Yes. That is true. It is an honor to stand before you, Lord Michael." She bowed her head deeply.
Michael's gaze softened, but sorrow flickered there. "You are not the Jeanne from my world. That much is clear. Yet your aura… beautiful, pure, magnificent. A radiance unmarred by hatred. I…" His hand trembled slightly. "…I am sorry. I could not protect you in the past."
Jeanne's eyes widened, and she hurried to answer. "Please, you need not apologize. I already accepted my fate. There is no need—"
But Kiyohime's voice cut in like a whip. Her eyes burned with draconic intensity, her tone serious, sharp as a blade. "Why? You angels pride yourselves on purity and justice, yet you let such a young and innocent soul be sacrificed? Do you have no shame?"
The room fell silent. Even Irina flinched at the sheer venom in Kiyohime's words.
Satria did not move, though his gaze darkened. He wanted to know the same thing. His faith was unshaken, but he knew too well that history was never pure. His mind flickered back to the moment he had met the Archangel in his own world, when truth and myth had blurred together.
Fragments of distorted history, twisted truths hiding deeper meanings…
The silence after Kiyohime's words stretched into eternity. The rowdy noise from the arena outside seemed to vanish, as if even the crowd dared not breathe in the face of what was unfolding.
Michael's golden wings dimmed, their brilliance softening to a mournful glow. His gaze lowered—not in weakness, but in a solemn acknowledgment of truth too heavy to bear with pride.
"…You are right to be angry, miss Kiyohime," he said at last, his voice quiet but resonant. "Heaven… my Heaven… has committed sins, even in the name of righteousness. Jeanne d'Arc was one of those sins."
Jeanne's lips parted, her breath catching. The admission struck her harder than any sword or flame ever had.
Michael continued, each word carrying the weight of centuries. "The truth is this: Jeanne was not chosen solely by God's will. She was pushed into destiny by those who saw her as a tool. The clergy, who hungered for a weapon. Kings, who demanded a banner. And yes—even angels, who believed her sacrifice would 'inspire the flock.' We… allowed men to twist her devotion into chains." His hand pressed against his chest, eyes heavy with grief. "We failed her. I failed her."
Kiyohime's dragon eyes narrowed, fire flickering at her lips. "…So you admit it."
"Yes." His voice did not waver. "I admit it. I was not there to shield her. I was not there when the fire consumed her body. That failure has lingered with me longer than any scar from battle. But know this…"
He raised his hand, and a gentle light spread across Jeanne's form. It was not blinding like his descent, but soft, like the glow of morning breaking through mist.
"…Never once did the Lord abandon you, Jeanne. Even as men condemned you, your prayers pierced the heavens. When your body burned, your soul did not die screaming—it ascended. Pure. Radiant. Untarnished. That is why even here, in another world, your aura shines like Heaven's dawn."
For the first time in centuries, Jeanne felt tears slip down her cheeks. She pressed a trembling hand over her heart. "…So… my faith was not in vain?"
Michael's lips curved into the faintest smile, full of both sorrow and pride. "No, child. It was not."
Satria sat frozen, his chest tightening. The words were beautiful, comforting—and yet they gnawed at him. Jeanne had been used. Manipulated. Even by those who claimed to be God's messengers. If even angels confessed such sins… then how many more truths were buried under the guise of divine will? How much of the world's history had been lies?
Irina's voice broke the tension, her eyes glistening. "Jeanne-san… all my life, I admired you. Prayed to you as a saint. And to think you suffered so much… I… I'm so sorry."
Jeanne's tears stilled. She straightened, her sorrow giving way to quiet resolve. "Do not cry for me. My suffering gave me purpose. But now…" She turned her gaze to Satria, her eyes clear, her smile fragile but genuine. "…Now I have family. I have a husband I chose. I have a future that was denied to me before. That is enough."
Michael folded his wings, their glow dimming into something gentler. "Perhaps… this is Jeanne's true reward. Not to serve as a symbol, but to live as herself."
Kiyohime snorted, though her arms tightened protectively around Satria's shoulders. "Hmph. Then understand this: she belongs to us now. Not Heaven. Not your God."
Michael inclined his head, accepting the rebuke with grace. "…Then guard her well, miss Kiyohime. Guard her better than we once did."
Michael's gaze shifted, solemn yet curious, to the young man lounging so casually with Jeanne clinging at his side. His golden aura dimmed, not in weakness but in respect, as he asked, "Tell me, young man… how did you come to be with her? Is it true you are Jeanne d'Arc's husband?" His voice softened, tinged with guilt. "…And tell me honestly—are you angry with us?"
The air grew tense. Even the devils, who normally would smirk at Heaven's discomfort, watched carefully. Jeanne looked at her husband, worry flickering in her eyes, unsure how far his answer might cut.
Satria leaned back against Kiyohime's shoulder, tilting his head like he was weighing the question. Then, without warning, he let a fraction of his power slip free. The ground trembled violently, marble tiles cracking underfoot. Even the devils stiffened, and Irina's shivered nervously.
"That's not your business, old man. Angry? Should I be?" His tone was light, but his gaze burned with something sharp and unyielding. "You wouldn't like it if I told you the truth."
The tremor died away as suddenly as it came. His aura folded back into him like it had never been there, and he gave a casual shrug, as if brushing dust off his sleeve. "But… it's already the past. What's the point of breaking bones over ashes? Just reflect on your mistakes. Jeanne wouldn't approve if I harmed her idol, would you, dear?"
Jeanne, cheeks flushing faintly, tightened her embrace around his arm. Her voice came soft but steady. "Thank you… I appreciate it, honey."
Satria patted her hand, then smirked up at Michael. "See? You heard her. Now, shoo, shoo! I need my daily pampering. Priorities, Mr. Archangel."
Michael blinked, clearly torn between amusement and exasperation. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he inclined his head. "…You are a strange one, child. But perhaps… that strangeness is why Jeanne smiles now."
The peace lasted only a heartbeat.
BOOOOOM!
A massive explosion ripped through the underworld, shaking the VIP chamber. Dust fell from the ceiling as the shockwave rattled the reinforced walls.
"What's happening?!" Falbium shot to his feet, his normally lazy eyes blazing with rare alarm.
The door slammed open and a devil soldier stumbled in, pale and breathless. "Report! The Norse God Loki has launched an assault! He's brought Fenrir and his spawn… and one of the Five Dragon Kings, Midgardsormr!"
"Tch… that damn brat!" Odin snarled, slamming his staff against the floor, the echo like thunder. His aged eyes gleamed with fury. "Forever clinging to Ragnarök like a spoiled child desperate for attention."
Through it all, Satria just leaned deeper into Kiyohime's shoulder, a smirk spreading across his face. "Well, well. Guess I can't have a day off after all."
Kiyohime tilted her head toward him, dragon eyes sharp. "What shall we do, danna-sama?"
Satria yawned exaggeratedly, waving a lazy hand. "Watch for now. It's their problem. And I believe they can take care of it themselves. I'm too lazy to move."
Kiyohime's lips curled into a fond pout, her claws gently stroking his hair. "…Moh. You're such a spoiled boy."
Jeanne sighed, torn between scolding and smiling. "…Honestly, sometimes I think you enjoy this too much."
Koneko, deadpan as ever, muttered, "Senpai's just conserving energy. Classic."
To be continued...