The grand ballroom of House Lucifuge was no mere hall; it was an arcane masterpiece.
Dark obsidian pillars laced with silver veins supported a vaulted ceiling painted with scenes of the Underworld's ancient wars, now enchanted to subtly shift as time passed. Gothic runes shimmered faintly along the walls, pulsing in rhythm with the estate's heartbeat. Above, crystal chandeliers floated unaided, casting radiant motes of gold that danced over the polished black marble floors like falling stardust. Every footstep echoed like a ceremony, every glance a silent negotiation.
Hidden behind illusory curtains, an elite orchestra played harmonics designed by Ajuka himself, every note enhanced to stir the soul, command attention, and soothe conflict in equal measure.
This was more than a celebration.
It was a declaration.
A convergence of power and legacy, where futures would be decided not on battlefields but over wine and whispered promises, where devils smiled as friends, even while plotting each other's ruin
At the heart of it stood Lucien Lucifuge-Gremory.
He carried himself like a sovereign born, clad in his tailored obsidian suit trimmed with crimson and gold shimmered subtly under the lights, edged with gold trim that outlined his frame in regal precision. A crimson tie at his throat marked him not just a host but a commander on a social battlefield.
His peerage and fiancées were no less striking:
Yue, regal and serene, wore a gown of liquid silver threaded with sapphire runes, calm eyes scanning the crowd like a lunar empress.
Yamato held herself with ancestral pride, her embroidered kimono adorned with golden dragons that flickered as if alive.
Kuroka, seductive and dangerous, wore a high-slit black gown that rippled with shadow-thread embroidery, her tails adorned with obsidian rings, eyes half-lidded and amused.
Ghislaine wore a military-cut crimson dress with armored trim, elegant, yet undeniably built for violence.
Rangiku moved with practiced grace, draped in lavender and perfumed wine. A coy smile tugged her lips, promising chaos and charm alike.
Velzaria, resplendent in a volcanic crimson dress traced with glowing draconic script, bore scales at her shoulders and neck like jewels.
Albedo, all black silk and dangerous curves, radiated lethal beauty, her backless gown daring, her golden irises locked only on Lucien.
Behind Lucien, a sigil flared, and Narberal Gammastepped forward in formal uniform, stoic and imperious.
She raised her voice, magically amplified across the hall.
"Announcing: Lady Makima of the Control Division, Patron of Chains, Tamer of Devils."
The room quieted.
Makima entered in silence.
Wearing a sleek black dress that clung to her like a predator made of silk, her presence struck the crowd like a ripple in reality. Nobles who hadn't bowed in centuries found their knees twitching. Her smile never reached her eyes, and those who met her gaze looked away with the instinct of prey.
"Announcing: General Esdeath of the Empire of Ice, Conqueror of the Northern Abyss."
She strode in like the winter herself, her ice-trimmed uniform tailored into elegance. She handed a bloodied sword to a stunned servant with a smile that froze the marrow.
"Announcing: Lady Mio Naruse, Heir of Crimson Descent."
She twirled into the ballroom, her dress scandalously short and enchanted to shift like living flame. Her smirk was pure provocation. Other women hissed. Men stared too long. Mio relished it.
"Announcing: Lady Raven of Azarath, Daughter of Trigon, Mistress of Shadows."
A shiver swept the chamber.
Raven appeared in a swirl of deep blue fabric, her cloak trimmed in glowing sigils. Her skin was pale gray, her eyes dark and endless. A faint six-point rune glowed on her brow. Behind her, a ripple of crimson shadow took shape, Trigon's burning silhouette, watching through her pendant.
Even the devils hesitated.
"Announcing: Lady Isabella Osa, Whisperer of Beasts, Harbinger of Stormsong."
Isabella strolled in casually with a goblet already half-empty. Her long white hair whipped as if the wind itself played with it, and her amused smirk landed like a thunderclap in noble hearts.
And then
"Announcing: Lady Rias Gremory and Lord Lucien Lucifuge-Gremory, heirs of Gremory and Lucifuge bloodlines, joined in status, bonded in legacy."
Together, they walked beneath the chandeliers. Rias's crimson dress shimmered with Power of Destruction glyphs woven subtly into the fabric. She held Lucien's arm, her poise regal, her eyes burning with both rebellion and pride.
Their peerages followed behind in perfect formation, their presence a wall of rising talent and potential.
"Announcing the fiancées of Lord Lucien Lucifuge-Gremory, Lady Albedo of Vermila, and Lady Velzaria of House Tiamat."
Together, they bowed with elegance, veils of rivalry fluttering between smiles.
And finally: "Announcing the Four Great Maou of the Underworld: Lord Falbium Asmodeus. Lord Ajuka Beelzebub. Lady Serafall Leviathan. And Lord Sirzechs Lucifer."
All conversation ceased.
The Maou walked together like elemental forces. Sirzechs led, cloaked in quiet fire. Serafall radiated glitter and madness, her gown far more refined than usual. Ajuka scanned everything like a machine-god wearing silk. Falbium looked bored, but his mere presence silenced half the court.
Serafall skipped forward and threw her arms around Lucien.
"Look at my future husband! You've grown so cool, Lucien-kun~!"
Lucien whispered, "You're ruining the intimidation effect."
Sirzechs grinned, voice low: "He's already better than I was. The nobles know it. So do the Maou."
Ajuka smirked. "And that's terrifying."
Falbium nodded once. Which meant: yes.
Lucien's Opening Speech
Lucien raised his goblet. The music paused.
"Tonight, under twin moons, we gather not as relics of old power—but as witnesses to new pacts, new futures… and perhaps, new empires. Let the night bind what fear cannot, and let legacy rise from shadow and fire alike."
There was silence, then scattered applause. Some stood. Serafall cried. Sirzechs smiled proudly. Makima tilted her head and observed.
Raven's pendant pulsed. Trigon growled.
🔥 Enter House Phenex – Late
A swirl of heat and fire burst at the entrance as the Phenex Clan arrived—dramatic and late.
At their lead was a woman who seemed carved from noble flame.
"Announcing: Lady Iolka Rivel Strachur, Heiress of House Strachur, Descendant of the Phoenix Kings."
Her fiery-orange hair glowed like a sun-kissed blaze. Her gown shimmered in flame-etched crimson and black. Her eyes were molten obsidian.
Lucien's gaze narrowed. Rias hissed, "That's her. The one from Pick Me Up."
Iolka stopped before him and bowed.
"Lord Lucien. I bring greetings from my house… and a personal challenge. Should you accept?"
The air tensed. Even the chandeliers dimmed. A noble duel? A courtship? Or both?
Lucien smiled with quiet danger.
"It would be my pleasure."
♟ Subtle Conflicts & Maneuverings
Velzaria vs. Albedo: Both flirt with high-ranking noble wives, spinning tales of glory and charm.
Souma interrupts a dispute between nobles offended by "outsiders and monsters" being present.
A noble murmurs slights about Rias' rebellion. Lucien appears behind him: "Repeat that for the record?"
Makima and Esdeath toast with smiles, thinly veiled threats hanging in the air between them.
Kuroka's mere presence earns glares from conservative nobles.
Several nobles hint that Lucien should take more wives.
Lucien sips calmly:
"I'm already outmatched at the dinner table. But I do admire your ambition."
A ripple swept through the ballroom. Conversations faltered. Eyes narrowed. The air itself seemed to crackle.
A duel? A test of wits? Or something more… binding?
Lucien's lips curled into a slow, dangerous grin.
"It would be my pleasure."
The gala had only just begun, and already, the fires of legacy threatened to ignite.