"Why so serious?"
Azazel stood there with his hands stuffed in his pockets, looking like he'd just wandered into the aftermath of a natural disaster by accident. His posture was completely relaxed, almost lazy, as if the smoking ruins around us were just another Tuesday.
I caught my breath, feeling the last remnants of battle-fueled adrenaline coursing through my veins. My hands were still trembling slightly from channeling that much power. Every muscle in my body ached right now.
Beside Azazel, Benemune adjusted her glasses with a small smile. Her orange eyes locked onto me with what looked like genuine curiosity, like she'd just witnessed something unexpectedly entertaining.
A strange feeling settled in my chest. They'd summoned me just a week ago using that devil flyer. The moment I'd arrived and seen the Governor General of the Grigori himself standing there with his assistant, I'd nearly had a heart attack. Of all the people to use a devil summoning flyer—Azazel. Now here they were again, watching me like I was some kind of fascinating experiment they wanted to dissect and study.
"My brother's forces will be here any moment."
Rias's voice cut through my thoughts. She crossed her arms, positioning herself slightly in front of the peerage—in front of me—with her blue-green eyes sharp and unwavering despite the exhaustion I could see pulling at her. "If you're here to start a war, then you'll have one."
I straightened despite the fatigue, ready to back her up if this went south. My body protested, but I pushed through it.
Azazel scratched his head, completely unbothered by the threat "Ah, yeah, about that... Our faction had no part in Kokabiel's insane little war scheme, alright?" He shrugged. "If we wanted to start another Great War with the devils, he would've attacked here first instead of stealing Excaliburs from the Church, don't you think?"
The logic was sound, and I knew from watching the series that he was telling the truth. But I also understood why Rias wouldn't believe him so easily. Not after everything that had just happened.
Again.
He waved his hand dismissively. "Honestly? I'd rather be tinkering with Sacred Gears and playing those video games your knight introduced me to, than stirring up trouble for no reason. War and paperwork... I avoid both at all costs."
My eyes widened slightly. He was bringing that up now? In front of everyone? I felt several gazes shift toward me, questions forming in their expressions.
Rias's expression didn't soften, as she probed further "This isn't the first time something's happened 'without your knowledge'. Not long ago, three Fallen Angels tried to assassinate my Knight. Now this"
"You claimed they acted on their own," Rias continued "And now a Cadre invades our territory and tries to start a war."
I found myself nodding internally. She was right to be skeptical. Too many "coincidences" had piled up.
Something flickered across Azazel's expression—not guilt exactly, but acknowledgment. He sighed, running a hand through his hair "Yeah, I know how it looks. The Grigori's got... organizational issues lately." He met Rias's eyes directly, then glanced at me for a brief moment. "But I'm telling you the truth—none of these attacks were sanctioned by our faction. Besides, if I wanted to start a war, we wouldn't be having this conversation, don't you think so"
He looked down at the crater where Kokabiel lay broken and bleeding, wings charred to blackened stumps.
I followed his gaze.
Azazel snapped his fingers.
A yellow magic circle blazed beneath Kokabiel, intricate patterns spinning rapidly. The golden light was almost blinding in the darkness. I had to shield my eyes slightly as the Cadre's broken body vanished in a flash—teleported back to Grigori headquarters, presumably to face whatever punishment awaited traitors.
Good riddance.
Azazel turned back to us, his expression settling into something more serious than I'd seen from him before. "For the record? I knew Kokabiel was planning to cause trouble. The Excalibur theft, making noise, being a general pain in everyone's ass. But actually restarting the Great War?" He shook his head.
"How convenient." Rias's voice remained steady, controlled—no hint of the anger I knew was simmering beneath. "That you never know the full extent until it's too late."
I kept my expression neutral, but internally I knew Rias had every right to be suspicious. From her perspective, this looked damning. But I also knew from watching the series that Azazel was actually telling the truth this time. The Grigori really did have organizational issues, and Kokabiel had gone rogue. Knowing that didn't make the situation any less tense though.
"Yeah." Azazel didn't try to deflect this time. "It is. And I'm not going to insult your intelligence by pretending otherwise, Rias Gremory." He looked genuinely tired. "Look, I'll handle the fallout with Grigori. And I'll make sure you're compensated for the property damage and trouble. It's the least I can do."
A golden yellow teleportation circle began forming beneath him and Benemune, its light washing over the scorched ground.
Benemune waved at me, her smile brightening in a way that made me slightly uncomfortable. "It was lovely seeing your strength firsthand, Yuuto-kun. I'm looking forward to tasting your meat again very soon~"
Heat rushed to my face. Several heads whipped toward me—I could feel their stares burning into the side of my head.
Oh no.
"Right, right," Azazel added with a grin that told me he knew exactly how that sounded. "Benemune couldn't stop talking about that meal you made when we summoned you last week. Apparently, you've got top notch cooking skills beyond just combat."
I resisted the urge to groan. This was not the conversation I wanted to have right now, in front of everyone, covered in blood and exhausted beyond measure.
"Of course!" Benemune's tone remained light and teasing as she pushed her glasses up with one finger. "What else would I mean? That dinner was exquisite."
The purple light intensified around them, and I felt a small surge of relief that this awkward moment was about to end.
"Right then." Azazel's voice carried over the hum of the teleportation circle. "We'll be in touch. Things are about to get complicated, so you might want to prepare for that. Peace talks and all. Politics." He made a face like he'd tasted something sour. "So much talking. So boring."
FLASH.
They vanished, the magic circle fading to nothing. Only a faint scent of destruction remained, along with the echo of Azazel's complaints about diplomatic meetings lingering in the air.
Silence settled over us.
At least now I could rest. Maybe shower first. Definitely shower first.
---
After going through what felt like an endless interrogation about Valper's disappearance and my newly awakened Sacred Gear, I finally made it back home. The moment my door closed behind me, I dropped onto my bed with a deep sigh that seemed to carry all the weight of the night.
The Kokabiel arc was over.
I stared up at the ceiling, feeling the exhaustion settle into my bones. This was the end of one troublesome event, sure, but I knew exactly what was coming next. The peace treaty between the three factions was already in motion, which meant Sirzechs would definitely be showing up. And knowing how the plot worked—because I'd watched this entire damn story play out back in my old world—Vali would almost certainly crash that meeting.
I groaned, draping my arm over my eyes.
Rest was never meant for the ones looking for it, apparently. Especially not when you knew the plot ahead of time.
It had taken everything I had to put Kokabiel in his place. And even now, I could already imagine the comments from people back in my old world if they could see this: "Meliodas is way stronger and could easily knock out Kokabiel with a single punch."
Yeah, easier said than done when you're the one not living it. Way easier when you're just watching an anime or reading a fanfic instead of actually having to face a ten-winged Cadre who wants to restart the apocalypse, while matching Satan Class Devil.
I let out another breath, trying to let the tension drain from my muscles.
Then I remembered.
My dear system got a reward for me.
Despite the fatigue pulling at me, curiosity won out. I raised my hand and summoned the familiar blue screen. It materialized in the air above me, casting a soft glow across my darkened room.
I blinked.
The character card was glowing—a silver light pulsing across its surface in rhythmic waves. My brow raised. This was the first time something like this had happened. The card had never done that before.
A question formed in my mind. I could just ask the system what this meant, get a straightforward answer and move on. But something made me hesitate.
No. Where was the fun in that?
A small smile tugged at my lips despite my exhaustion. Sometimes it was better to discover things as they came rather than spoiling the surprise. I'd figure it out soon enough anyway.
I reached up and tapped the glowing screen.
The character card began to rotate, slowly at first, then faster. The silver light intensified, growing brighter and brighter until I had to squint against it. For a moment, my vision went completely white.
When the light finally faded, I had to blink several times to clear the spots from my eyes.
Then I saw them.
Two character cards floated before me instead of one. They hovered side by side, each radiating its own distinct presence.
My breath caught in my throat.
[[ On the left: Dante. DMC 5. That cocky grin, that legendary red coat, the embodiment of stylish demon-slaying chaos ]]
[[ On the right: Vergil. DMC 5. Cold, calculated power. That piercing gaze, the blue coat, the pursuit of absolute strength ]]
I couldn't speak. Couldn't move. Just stared at the two cards like they were offering me the keys to godhood.
Because they basically were.
Correction, devil hood.
The system was giving me a choice between Dante and Vergil. The sons of Sparda. Two characters I'd spent countless hours playing, watching combo videos of, analyzing their movesets and lore. Two of my absolute favorite characters, each with their own Sin Devil Trigger forms that were beyond incredible.
And I knew exactly what I'd be getting with either choice. Every technique, every ability, every ridiculous feat they'd pulled off in the games. This wasn't some blind gamble—I knew the full extent of what both of them could do.
My mind raced, running through everything I knew about both of them.
Dante offered versatility—multiple fighting styles, four different styles he could switch between instantly, an entire arsenal of Devil Arms for every situation. I'd played through his campaigns enough times to know exactly how his Royal Guard worked, how to maximize Trickster's mobility, the devastating combos with Swordmaster. His Sin Devil Trigger was raw, overwhelming power that demolish everything in range. He was the guy who made the impossible look easy while cracking jokes and styling on his enemies.
But Vergil... Vergil was focused power incarnate. Precision and overwhelming force combined. The Yamato and its reality-cutting abilities, Judgment Cuts that could shred through dimensions, that Concentration mechanic that rewarded perfect play with absurd damage. His Sin Devil Trigger was elegant destruction—those summoned swords, the teleportation, the sheer surgical precision of every attack. I'd watched enough combo videos and played enough of his campaign to know that in the right hands, Vergil was an unstoppable force of calculated violence.
I sat up slowly, my exhaustion momentarily forgotten as I studied both cards.
This wasn't just about power—I knew both of them were broken in their own ways. It was about style, about approach, about which moveset would fit better with what was coming. Because I knew what was coming. I knew about the Khaos Brigade, about the fight with Vali, about Loki, about the Rating Games, and my own journey.
As I can't forever live as Knight of Rias Gremory.
My hand hovered between them, trembling slightly—not from fatigue this time, but from the sheer weight of the decision.
And both of their Sin Devil Triggers... I knew exactly how broken those forms were. I'd seen the damage numbers, watched the cutscenes, played through the fights. Either one would put me leagues above most threats in this world.
The cards continued to float there, waiting patiently for my decision. The blue glow of the system screen illuminated my room, casting shadows that seemed to dance with anticipation.
My hand was still suspended between them, and taking a deep breath I finally made my decision.
"I choose you"
. . . .
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