"Tenra-sama, this will be your room for tonight. If you need anything at all, please let us know."
The maid who led him was young and beautiful, her voice soft with deference. Tenra gave her a gentle smile. "Thank you. I appreciate it."
A blush crept across her cheeks, her heart fluttering. Only someone as impossibly handsome, powerful, and heroic as Tenra-sama, she thought, could ever be worthy of their noble, radiant Princess Rias.
She bowed and slipped away, leaving Tenra alone. He closed the door behind him, the quiet settling in.
He reached for the light switch—then froze. His expression sharpened, every sense on edge.
"Who's there?"
Tap… tap… tap…
Footsteps echoed in the darkness. From the shadows, a figure emerged—cold, breathtakingly beautiful, and utterly unexpected.
Grayfia.
"Grayfia-san. Is there something you need?"
Tenra's tone was light, but tension coiled beneath it. Grayfia had left earlier with Sirzechs; her sudden appearance here was anything but casual. Tenra wasn't naive enough to imagine the Queen of the Underworld had come for a midnight tryst. Quietly, he put space between them, never taking his eyes off her.
"Your ability," Grayfia said, ignoring his question. "You can steal any Sacred Gear?"
Her silver eyes were icy, pinning him like an ancient predator sizing up its prey.
Grayfia was always cool, but usually with a veneer of polite dignity. Now, her face was a mask—expressionless, utterly cold. Her presence was suffocating, her aura radiating a chill that made Tenra's skin prickle.
"Yes, I can take any Sacred Gear. Is there something specific you want to know, Grayfia-san?"
He forced his heartbeat down, keeping his voice even.
"I just needed to confirm it."
Her tone was glacial. Step by step, she advanced.
Tenra found himself pressed against the wall, nowhere left to retreat. His eyes narrowed, a sliver of power stirring within—Ddraig, ready at a moment's notice. If she made a single wrong move, he'd fight with everything he had.
But Grayfia didn't attack. She simply stopped in front of him, staring with those chilling eyes.
"Too weak. All of us—too weak. You, me—everyone."
For a moment, something like excitement flickered across her flawless, frozen features.
Tenra's mind reeled, but before he could ask anything, Grayfia turned away.
"Stay alive, Kamiyo Tenra. Grow stronger. As strong as you possibly can. One day, you might be needed."
With that, she melted back into the darkness—gone, as if she'd never been there at all.
"…Hah."
He exhaled, only now realizing his back was soaked with cold sweat.
He hated to admit it, but even after years of life-or-death struggles, he'd never felt fear like that—not until now.
Ddraig's gauntlet shimmered into view, the dragon's voice echoing in his mind, half-mocking, half-worried. "Partner, that woman is terrifying. Lucky for you she didn't attack—right now, you wouldn't stand a chance."
"I know," Tenra said, no bravado, just honesty.
He'd felt it in her aura—Grayfia wasn't just Maou-class, she was a monster among monsters. Even with Ddraig's power, he wouldn't survive a real fight.
It made sense; the Queen of the Underworld, once rival to the Sitri heiress for the title of strongest female devil, should be this strong. But what truly unsettled him was—
Why approach him? What did she really want to confirm? Why urge him to survive and grow stronger? Was he in danger? And what did she mean about being "useful" in the future?
His father had once warned him to be wary of Sirzechs—the Maou renowned for his kindness. But why?
And then there was Millicas. Why had the [Codex of Divinitas et Diabolus] inside him reacted so strangely when they met?
None of it made sense. For the first time, Tenra felt lost—his mind a tangled snarl of questions with no answers.
He had the memories of another world, knowledge of this world's destined path. He'd always believed he could see every move before it happened. But now, he realized—there was so much he didn't know. So many secrets, any one of which could kill him.
For the first time, uncertainty and anxiety crept in. For the first time, he felt fear—fear of the unknown.
Ddraig's voice was gentle now, almost fatherly. "If you can't figure it out, stop thinking. Just do what she said—grow stronger. With enough power, secrets are meaningless, conspiracies are jokes. Stand at the top, and the world bows to you."
Tenra repeated the words, almost chanting. "With enough strength, secrets aren't secrets. Conspiracies are just jokes…"
He laughed. At first, it was just a chuckle, but it swelled—louder, wilder, until he was doubled over, tears in his eyes.
Ddraig's concern spiked. "Hey, partner, are you okay?"
Tenra's laughter only grew, manic and unrestrained. "I can't help it! Ddraig, let me laugh a little longer!"
He laughed until he was breathless, until the ache in his chest finally faded and he could breathe again.
He'd felt confusion. He'd felt anxiety. He'd felt fear.
How long had it been since he'd tasted those feelings?
For so long, knowing this world's fate, he'd lived with the illusion of control. Every victory, every pleasure, every conquest—he'd engineered them all, wringing satisfaction from inevitability but never true surprise.
But now? Now there were secrets he didn't know. Now there were powers beyond his sight.
For the first time, he was thrilled. For the first time, he was truly alive.
Life was interesting because of the unknown. Because of the surprises lurking in the dark.
Stealing Issei Hyoudou's Sacred Gear? Enjoying Yubelluna and Raynare? They'd brought satisfaction, but never wonder.
But this—this was different. There were mysteries he couldn't solve, threats he couldn't predict, a summit he'd never glimpsed.
He wanted to know. He wanted to see the world's highest peak.
He laughed again, wild and exultant.
For the first time, Tenra looked forward to the future.
He was happy. He was excited.
But within the Sacred Gear, Ddraig could only worry.
Had his partner really lost it?
Please, not now!
To be continued…
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