"Hah… hah…"
The flames peeled away, the haze dissolved, and Tenra reappeared—breath ragged, hair tousled. Yet a thick veil of frost clung to his body, shielding him from the worst of Riser's phoenix fire.
Riser's eyes widened, just for a moment. He hadn't expected Tenra to withstand such a barrage. But he quickly hid his surprise behind a sneer.
"Weak. Pathetic. You'll always be beneath me. You can't even awaken your bloodline, let alone grasp the true power of the phoenix. Your existence is a stain on the Phenex name!"
He hovered above, voice ringing out for all to hear.
"Do you really think a little hard work can close the gap between us? You're talentless. You can't even summon demon wings. You're not qualified to stand against me!"
Riser's flames twisted, forming dozens of shrieking firebirds that dove toward Tenra.
Boom—boom—boom—
Tenra dodged and weaved across the battlefield, never quite catching a break. Riser's lips curled; his victory was all but assured.
Spectators outside the dimensional arena fell silent, understanding Riser's strategy instantly.
In close combat, Tenra had the edge. So Riser took to the sky, launching relentless attacks from above. Tenra, grounded and wingless, could only dodge, never counter. His sword beams, fired in desperation, failed to reach Riser.
Cowardly? Perhaps. But in a duel with no rules, Riser's tactics were flawless.
Tenra's inability to awaken his bloodline, his lack of wings—those were his own burdens to bear.
But—
Tenra drew a slow breath, eyes sharpening as he stared up at Riser.
"Maybe I have no talent. Maybe I can't awaken my bloodline. Maybe I don't even have the wings every demon takes for granted."
"But you can't deny me. No one can. Not even this world!"
"—Hermes' Boots!"
His voice rang out, shaking the arena. Golden wings unfurled from his feet, dazzling and regal.
The crowd gasped, Riser's eyes went wide. Tenra launched himself skyward, a comet of gold and blue, closing the distance in a heartbeat.
His sword shimmered, morphing from ice-blue to a crackling violet blade, electricity dancing along its edge.
"Thunder Emperor—Raikiri!"
CRASH!
In a single, blinding strike, Tenra's blade smashed through Riser's defenses. Lightning and fire exploded, and for a moment, Riser was nowhere to be seen.
Then the flames recoiled, swirling together, and Riser reformed—shaken, battered, but still standing.
"Impossible!" he roared, face twisted with fury. Even he hadn't escaped unscathed.
Tenra's voice was steady, almost gentle. "Nothing's impossible. Let's finish this, Riser."
"Tenra Kamiyo!"
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The duel soared skyward, ground combat giving way to an aerial ballet of gold and crimson. Tenra and Riser streaked through the air, colliding again and again.
Tenra's sword shifted forms—sometimes freezing cold, sometimes crackling with lightning, sometimes blazing with phoenix fire. At first, the crowd thought he wielded countless magic swords. But the sharp-eyed among them realized the truth:
He wasn't using a collection of legendary weapons. He possessed a Sacred Gear—a power that could create magic swords.
And those golden wings? Another Sacred Gear.
The battle ramped up, intensity surging. Demons were born for war, and the audience responded—cheers, shouts, raw excitement.
On the main balcony, Duke Phenex watched the spectacle unfold. His stern face softened, eyes shining with pride, surprise, and something deeper—relief.
"Tamako, our son was never a failure."
Ravel, Akeno, Rias, Yubelluna—all watched in awe. Even the twin sisters, Ile and Nel, stared with burning admiration.
—
Riser refused to accept it. The brother he'd always dismissed as worthless now stood as his equal—maybe even his superior. For the first time, Riser felt fear.
"Die!"
They clashed again, then broke apart, hovering at a distance.
Riser's patience snapped. He poured every drop of power into his next attack. With a shriek, a colossal firebird erupted—his ultimate move, the avatar of the immortal phoenix.
Though conjured from Riser's own magic, it was his strongest technique.
He locked onto Tenra, sending the phoenix screaming toward him.
No escape. No defense. The firebird struck, engulfing Tenra in a maelstrom of flame.
BOOM!
The explosion was blinding, a miniature sun blazing in the arena. Energy rippled outward, threatening to tear the dimensional space apart.
This was the might of a High-Class Devil—Riser Phenex's strongest blow.
Few believed Tenra could survive. Even if he lost, he'd already exceeded every expectation. He'd shed the curse of "Underworld failure" forever.
It was almost poetic. In the Underworld, the Bael family's "failure" had risen to become a new Satan, defying fate itself. Tenra might not be as legendary, but he'd proven himself far beyond his supposed peers.
Fate, it seemed, loved irony.
As the flames finally faded, the crowd prepared to mourn Tenra's defeat. But then—
He hadn't fallen.
Tenra hovered in midair, wrapped in a spherical barrier. Cracks spidered across its surface, but it had held—blocking Riser's strongest attack.
Beside Gasper, Tosca's eyes sparkled with pride.
The barrier was no ordinary defense. It was a Sacred Gear—[Intrinsic Barrier]—that Tenra had claimed from Tosca herself.
The tide had turned again. The crowd erupted, yet another shock in a day full of them.
"Impossible! Impossible!" Riser screamed, face twisted in disbelief.
He could sense it—Sacred Gear after Sacred Gear. Magic swords, golden wings, now a barrier. Why did this "failure" possess so many legendary powers?
It defied all logic. Riser was losing his grip.
The barrier faded. Tenra rose, calm and steady, until he hovered at Riser's level.
"Riser, this duel is nearly over. You've shown me your best—now let me show you mine."
Gray vortexes spun into existence around Tenra. From each, a magic sword slowly emerged, the air humming with power.
Riser's instincts screamed danger. He hadn't even begun to formulate a counter before Tenra's voice cut through the sky—cold, final.
"This isn't my strongest attack, but you'd better brace yourself. Balance Breaker—"
"Unlimited Blade Works!"
~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~
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