I met Lord Naberius in a room that felt too dilapidated for two nobles.
The study was narrow, lined with shelves that held more ledgers than grimoires. Old lamps burned with a steady, practical light. The smell was old paper, ink and a faint metallic tang of magic that had been used here more for scalpel work than for battle.
Lord Naberius himself sat behind a plain desk, not the kind of throne like seat my father preferred. He was thin, careful, eyes sharp and slightly recessed, like something that had spent too long in the dark.
"Magdaran Bael-sama," he greeted, voice polite, neutral. "House Bael does not usually visit my humble estate. To what do I owe the honor?"
He used the word "honor", but what he really meant was "danger". Small houses do not enjoy surprises from Great King lines.
I did not waste time.
"I will be direct," I said. "You currently have two Nekoshou sisters under your custody. Kuroka and Shirone."
A faint flicker in his gaze. Recognition, irritation, calculation.
"I do," he said slowly. "They are wards of House Naberius. Under our protection."
"Under your experiments," I corrected, tone calm. "Unregistered, unapproved, and in violation of Council standards. You have not yet added them to your peerage. That is fortunate for both of us."
Silence.
The faint sound of an lamp flickering.
He did not deny it. Which was already an answer.
"What exactly are you proposing, Bael heir?" he asked at last.
"I am not proposing," I said. "I am informing. You will transfer custody of Kuroka and Shirone to House Bael. I will add them to my peerage. In return, House Bael will refrain from bringing your activities to the attention of those who would enjoy making an example of you."
His jaw clenched. Not outrage. Frustration. A man watching a long, careful project suddenly pushed to the edge of a table.
"You could simply take them," he said quietly. "You know this. You have rank, and I have no legal protection that would survive Bael pressure. Why dress it up as negotiation?"
"Because I prefer clean transactions to public incidents, and it is not a negotiation." I said. "You keep your seat. Your house keeps its status. Your name does not get dragged through Council meetings. I gain two valuable pieces. Everyone survives."
I let that sink in.
Bael is Great King. Naberius is not. Even without the threat, he could not afford to deny me.
He exhaled slowly.
"Kuroka," he said, "is exceptionally talented. I had plans for her."
"I am aware," I said. "Your plans involved dissection of a living body. Mine involve her staying that way."
His lips thinned.
"And the younger one?" he asked.
"Shirone," I replied. "Ten years old. Already showing signs of emotional damage from your environment. I will not pretend altruism, Lord Naberius. I am not a savior. But broken pieces are inefficient."
A tiny, involuntary smile flickered at the edge of his mouth at that phrasing. He could at least respect bluntness.
"Very well," he said at last. "House Naberius will transfer the Nekoshou sisters to House Bael. You will formalize their inclusion in your peerage and record the transfer as voluntary."
"Agreed," I said. "And in return, your experiments stay in this room, not in front of the Council."
His eyes hardened.
Data point 1: Naberius is pragmatic, not suicidal. Fear of Bael rank and exposure outweighs attachment to current experiments. Transaction successful.
We signed a contract stating our 'negotiation'.
Within three days, a Bael carriage rolled up to the estate with two passengers.
I stood at the entrance to receive them.
Kuroka stepped out first.
She was tall for fifteen, with long black hair tied messily, yellow catlike eyes, and a loose, lazy kind of walk that anyone untrained would mistake for carelessness. It was not. The way she scanned the surroundings gave her away. Every exit, every guard, every angle of approach.
Behind her, holding her sleeve, was a smaller figure.
White hair cut short around a round face, pale yellow eyes, two cat ears trembling slightly on top of her head. Shirone. Ten years old. Her steps were careful, hesitant, like she expected the ground to hurt.
They stopped a few meters in front of me.
Kuroka tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly as she took me in from top to bottom. Black suit, Bael crest, composed stare.
"So this is the big scary Bael heir who bought us from that old bastard," she said, voice light, a bit mocking.
"Acquired," I corrected. "With paperwork."
She smirked.
"Acquired, bought, same thing," she said. "What do you want with two Nekoshou, nya?"
The "nya" at the end was deliberate, playful. Not natural. Weaponized cuteness.
"Strength," I replied. "Mobility. Talent. I need a functioning peerage. You are valuable assets."
Shirone flinched slightly at the word "assets".
I lowered my gaze to her level, softening my expression just enough.
"And you are people," I added. "I do not use people as test material. Not unless they agree and are properly compensated."
Kuroka's eyes sharpened.
"Naberius did not say that part," she said.
"I doubt he would," I said.
We regarded each other for a moment.
"Kuroka," I continued, "you will receive a rook piece, if you accept. It will grant you demonic status, protection, resources and a formal position in my peerage. In return, you will fight for me when needed. Outside of that, you will have considerable freedom."
"Rook, huh," she said, eyes glinting. "and plenty of room to play in."
Her gaze flicked towards Shirone.
"And her?" she asked, voice quieter.
"pawn piece," I said. "They are flexible. They allow future promotion, and easier protection within the peerage framework. And considering her talent, she would probably take up two pawn pieces."
Shirone had stayed pressed against her sister's sleeve the whole time, eyes moving nervously from me to the hall behind me.
I addressed her directly.
"Shirone," I said.
Her ears twitched. She looked at me properly for the first time.
"You will not be thrown into experiments here," I said. "Not even subtle ones. Your primary job, for now, will be to eat, rest, train and learn how to live without flinching every time someone walks behind you."
Silence.
Then, quietly, she said, "Lord Naberius said we were special. He said that is why he kept us."
"You are special," I said. "Just not in the way he meant."
Kuroka watched my face carefully, searching for deception. I let her see nothing but calm certainty. She knew how liars looked. She had lived with one.
"Fine," she said. "Give me that rook, nya."
There was no dramatic ritual. Just the formal process.
In a private room, with a Bael official as witness, I held the crimson rook piece in my hand. Kuroka placed her palm over it. Demonic power flared, reacting to her soul. The piece sank into her, light slipping under her skin and vanishing.
Her back arched slightly. Ears twitched.
"Ooh," she said, grinning. "That feels nice."
Shirone watched, wide eyed.
I took out the two pawn pieces.
"You can say no," I told her. "If you do, you will still stay here as a ward of House Bael. No one will send you back."
Her small hands clenched. She looked between Kuroka and me, eyes wet and bright. Then she stepped forward, jaw set in a way that looked too heavy for her age.
"I will do it," she whispered. "If Kuroka is here… then… I will."
She placed her hands over the pieces. The light was smaller, but steady.
Two pawns sank into her chest.
She staggered, then straightened, breathing a bit faster.
"There," Kuroka said, immediately pulling her into a side hug. "See, Shirone? Still alive."
Shirone nodded shakily and leaned into her. Her tail, which had been stiff with tension, relaxed a fraction.
Data point 2: Kuroka accepted rook role without resistance. Shirone accepted pawn role primarily because of Kuroka's presence. Trust in me is minimal. Trust in her sister is absolute.
That was acceptable.
The first members of my peerage were in place.
Now for the second phase.
Akeno Himejima.
From my internal timeline, she should currently be wandering the human world, taking freelance exorcism jobs, cut off from both her fallen angel father's side and her human mother's family. Vulnerable, strong, and with nowhere to belong.
The best time to offer structure is when someone has none.
I went to my father's study again.
He looked up as I entered, the quill pausing over a page.
"You have Kuroka and her sister," he said. "That spreads your resources already. You are still young, Magdaran. Do not collect more pieces than you can handle, there are limited number of pieces, better to not fill them up randomly."
"I am not recruiting for decoration," I said. "I am building a functional peerage. There is one more candidate I wish to retrieve now, before someone else does. For that, I need permission to go to the human world for several days."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"For who?" he asked.
"Akeno Himejima," I replied. "I came across news of her accidently, and she is worth every trouble taken to recruit her. Half human, half fallen angel. Daughter of Baraqiel, currently operating as a freelance exorcist in Japan."
"A fallen hybrid," he said, tone turning colder. "Interesting choice."
"Her potential is immense," I said. "And if we do not take her, someone else will. Or she will be broken by the Church or the Grigori in some unpleasant way. It is better if House Bael defines her usage."
He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled.
"Your way of framing things is always so charming," he said dryly. "Very well. You will go to Kuoh town in Japan first. That is devil territory. Greet Cleria Belial properly. After that, you may conduct your search. Take an escort. Do not start unnecessary trouble with the Church or the Grigori."
"Understood," I said.
Permission acquired.
The teleportation circle deposited us on the outskirts of Kuoh under a cloudy night sky.
The human world felt different from the Underworld. Less saturated with magic, more with noise. Cars on distant roads, the faint hum of electricity in the wires, the smell of asphalt and exhaust and damp earth.
And something else, something unexpected.
Curses.
Not the structured spells I expected, but a kind of sticky negative energy that clung to places where human emotions had rotted. Bridges where people had jumped. Old houses where families fought. Alleyways where someone had died badly.
To a devil's senses, they were faint, like mold at the edges of a wall, but there were many. Too many to be random anomalies.
I logged it in the back of my mind as I headed to the Kuoh town hall where Cleria Belial maintained her base.
She received me in a comfortable sitting room, not overly formal. Light brown hair, calm purple eyes, a composed air that fit someone balancing local politics and Maou oversight. Her aura was not overwhelming, but it was steady. Refined.
"Welcome to Kuoh, Magdaran Bael-san," she said. "House Belial greets House Bael."
"Thank you for the reception, Cleria-san" I said, bowing appropriately. "I came to pay my respects and to inform you that I will be conducting a short recruitment search within your territory."
"You want to build your peerage from my backyard," she said, smiling faintly. "You young heirs really start early these days."
"Efficiency favors early investment," I replied.
She laughed softly.
"And who is the target of this 'investment'?" she asked.
"Akeno Himejima," I said. "Human-Fallen Hybrid, currently unaffiliated. I intend to offer her a bishop piece."
Her expression turned thoughtful.
"I have heard about her," she said. "A girl who works exorcism jobs here and there. No fixed base. No family. If you recruit her under proper contracts, I have no objection. Kuoh is not a prison."
"Good," I said. "I will keep you informed if anything significant occurs."
"See that you do," she said. "And try not to cause a scene. The Church already dislikes us enough."
I left with a mental map of Kuoh's districts and the knowledge that I had her tacit approval.
Then came the search.
Akeno's pattern was messy. She did not have a fixed shrine. She took jobs where she could, slept where she could, kept moving. She avoided areas with heavy Church presence and stayed near places with restless spirits and curses.
I walked.
Old shrines half maintained by disinterested caretakers. Small shops with ofuda stuck on their doors to ward off "bad luck." Graveyards where curses hung like a dirty fog. I watched for traces of mixed aura: human, fallen, sacred.
Along the way, I took note of other anomalies.
Small groups of humans whose magic did not feel like standard sorcery or prayer.
Wands instead of talismans. Strange, narrow signatures of spellcasting, weak but structured, stitched around an identity like "wizard" rather than "mage" or "priest."
Mahoutokoro. A name I heard them talking about, listened in due to my keen devil senses.
The name surfaced from my training data like a buoy. In my database, Mahoutokoro was a wizarding school located in Japan, part of a magical world where names like Hogwarts and Durmstrang existed. Harry Potter's world.
For it to exist here, even in a faint, hidden form, meant cross contamination.
The devils' records did not list it as a major faction. That meant their power was negligible on the cosmic scale. But they existed.
Curses, weak ghosts, wizard signatures.
Data point 3: The world had absorbed at least one minor magical system from another fictional universe. Possibly more. Main worldline remained DxD; devils still occupied top tier in terms of raw power and structure.
Interesting, but not urgent. I shelved it for later, at a higher level of strength.
On the third night, I found what I was looking for.
A small shrine on a hill overlooking the town, half forgotten by humans. The torii gate was splintered. Moss crawled up the stone steps. The air smelled of damp wood and stale incense.
And something else.
Lightning.
Not physical lightning, but the feeling of static in the air, focused and coiled.
At the top of the stairs, near the shrine's main structure, a girl stood in a simple dark kimono, long black hair tied in a loose ponytail, purple eyes narrowed in concentration. Her hands moved in a pattern that was half exorcism, half spell, drawing sigils in the air with practiced speed.
A twisted mass of curse energy clung to the shrine roof, shaped roughly like a distorted dog, trying to pull itself away from the binding.
She finished her incantation.
Intense power flared, raw and unrefined but strong.
A lance of lightning fell from the empty sky and struck the curse.
It shrieked in a sound only magic could hear, then dissolved into ash and scattered.
The girl lowered her hands slowly, breathing a little faster. Sweat stood on her forehead.
Akeno Himejima.
I waited until she noticed me.
She turned sharply, hand immediately going to a concealed charm at her waist.
"Who is there?" she snapped. "I told the client I work alone."
"Magdaran Bael," I said. "Devil. Heir to House Bael. Not your client. But a potential employer."
Her brows drew together.
"A devil," she said flatly. "Here. Watching me work."
"Correct," I said. "I was looking for you."
She did not relax.
"Why?" she asked.
"To offer you a position in my peerage," I said. "Bishop. With formal contracts. Housing, income, training, protection. In return, you fight when needed and occasionally listen when I give orders."
She stared at me like I had just suggested she drink poison voluntarily.
"You want me to become a devil," she said.
"You already live in the margins between factions," I said. "Your fallen blood makes you unacceptable to the Church. Your human side isolates you from most fallen. You wander, taking jobs. That is not sustainable for decades."
"Better than being a pet to some noble," she said, voice sharper.
"Is it?" I asked. "You sleep in abandoned shrines. You eat what you can afford. You risk your life for exorcisms that barely pay enough to keep moving. Devils can be monsters. I will not pretend otherwise. But we are also very good at infrastructure."
Her eyes narrowed.
"You talk too calmly," she said.
"Yes," I said. "I do that a lot."
Silence stretched between us. Crickets sang in the grass. The night wind moved through the trees.
"What do you get out of this?" she asked finally. "Really."
"A strong bishop," I said. "Someone with lightning and a spine, who is not easily broken. Someone who fills a very convenient slot in my future peerage plans. And, admittedly, the satisfaction of taking a powerful piece off the board before another group claims it and uses it in a way that interferes with my plans."
"So I am a piece in your game," she said.
"Yes," I said. "But a well treated piece. I do not break my own tools. It is inefficient."
Her lips twitched.
"That is a very devil way of promising not to abuse someone," she said.
"It is also honest," I said.
She looked away, up at the shrine roof where the curse had been.
"You know what I am?" she asked quietly. "What my trash of a father is?"
"Baraqiel," I said. "Grigori Cadre. Your presence here and your words indicates that relationship did not end well. I do not particularly care. Fallen, human, devil, angel, wizard. It is all data. Power and loyalty matter more than purity to me."
Her shoulders relaxed a fraction at that.
"You would not use that to hurt me?" she asked.
"I might use it to protect you," I said. "If the Grigori cause trouble. But no, I do not intend to hold it over your head. People are easier to work with when they are not constantly waiting for the knife."
She took a deep breath.
"If I accept," she said slowly, "what guarantees do I get? Besides your oh so comforting logic."
"Written guarantees," I said. "A contract drafted by me personally, you can check it however you like. Clear clauses. No hidden traps. If I break it, there are consequences. For me, too. I prefer self binding efficiency to chaotic exploitation."
"You keep saying things like that and I might start to believe you," she said. "Which is dangerous."
"Belief should follow data," I said. "So gather some. Accept, with a trial period. If House Bael proves unacceptable, you can invoke the exit clause. After that, we will renegotiate."
She stared at me for a long moment.
Then she laughed softly, a humorless, tired sound.
"I have nothing," she said. "No home. No family. No plan. If I die like this, no one will even know my name. And now a Great King heir shows up and offers me shelter with strings attached. It is suspicious. It is too convenient. It is exactly the sort of thing that gets girls killed in stories."
"That is a reasonable assessment," I said.
She tilted her head.
"And yet?" I added.
"And yet," she repeated quietly. "I am tired."
She clenched her fist around the charm at her waist, then relaxed it.
"All right, Bael heir," she said. "Show me this contract of yours. If it looks even a little like a trap, I will fry you."
"Acceptable risk," I said.
We went through the details at the shrine. I projected the key points verbally while having a physical copy ready for signing later through proper channels.
No clause about ownership of her body beyond standard reincarnation provisions. Explicit mention of autonomy outside of Devil duties. Clear definitions of battlefield obedience vs personal life. Protection guarantees. An explicit exit path with penalties on both sides for abuse.
Her eyes widened a few times as she read.
"You really are an expert of contracts, as expected of a devil, I guess." she muttered.
"Yes," I said.
At the end, she pressed her thumb to the sigil.
"I, Akeno Himejima, accept," she said.
The bishop piece responded when I presented it. It glowed, then sank into her chest.
She shivered, closing her eyes as demonic energy intertwined with her existing sacred and fallen traits. It was an unusual combination, but this world was built on unusual combinations.
When she opened them again, her aura felt sharper.
"This feels strange," she said. "But… not bad."
"Reincarnated devils do tend to say that," I said.
She snorted.
"Do not get smug, Bael heir," she said. "I am not your loyal servant yet."
"Good," I said. "I prefer people with spines."
Data point 4: Akeno accepted bishop role with strong emphasis on contract fairness. Trust level low but functional. Initial satisfaction with demonic energy integration present.
With Akeno recruited, there was no reason to linger.
We returned to the Underworld through a controlled circle. The Bael estate felt almost quiet after the constant noise of the human world.
Kuroka was the first to appear when we arrived.
She eyed Akeno up and down.
"Oh, another pretty girl," she said, grinning. "Are you collecting a harem, nya?"
"I am collecting a peerage," I said.
Akeno raised an eyebrow.
"A catgirl," she said. "Interesting."
"Two," I said. "Shirone is resting."
Akeno folded her arms, gaze sliding between us.
"This will be fun," she said.
"Yes," I said.
The immediate introductions were short. I did not force friendliness. They would calibrate to each other over time. Kuroka liked teasing. Akeno liked keeping her distance, but she too was like Kuroka. Shirone liked hiding behind Kuroka.
Tsubaki Shinra and Kuisha Abaddon remained names on my internal list for later. Tsubaki still had a future tied to Sona Sitri. Kuisha was on a path toward Sairaorg. Both trajectories could be disrupted with enough influence, or planning.
But doing so now would be premature and conspicuous. Better to wait, to approach when timing gave me more leverage.
For now, three pieces were enough.
Back in my room, I lied down on my bed, and started making mental notes.
"Peerage status: Kuroka, bishop. Shirone, two pawns. Akeno Himejima, bishop. All installed. Trust levels vary. Potential, high."
Then the anomaly I found about today.
"External anomaly: Mahoutokoro wizard presence confirmed. Curses and ghosts scattered across Japan. Power levels weak compared to devils.
Conclusion: minor world structures have been merged into DxD primary, but core hierarchy remains unchanged. Further study postponed until strength increases."
Then I put my mind to my own condition.
Training had pushed my body close to a threshold.
Demonic reserves, previously mid range, had expanded under the compounding drain and recovery cycles. Touki training had thickened my muscles, hardened my bones, accelerated recovery. Control over Power of Destruction had refined to the point where I could form clean spheres with minimal wasted energy and even begin to introduce conceptual targeting against small constructs.
In Bael internal scales, I was no longer just "promising". I was almost properly dangerous.
Noble born devils are registered as high class on paper at birth. That is politics. It does not mean their actual strength matches the title. In reality, most of them wander around as overdecorated mid class devils for years before their abilities catch up.
I was only now approaching that actual high class line.
Not the flattering, "you are a Bael, therefore you are high class" label.
The real thing.
The difference between status and capability was shrinking.
There were still many gaps.
Sairaorg. Sirzechs. Ajuka. Khaos Brigade. Angels. Gods. Dragons. Mahoutokoro and whatever else had bled into this world.
Too much to handle at my current level.
But my peerage now existed as more than theoretical constructs, and my power was no longer just a promise in my blood.
Data point 5: first stage of infrastructure complete. Pieces placed. Anomalies noted. Strength approaching functional high class threshold. Further expansion will proceed once current assets are stabilized.
I leaned back in my chair and let my devil body breathe. Behind my eyes, numbers settled into patterns.
The world was getting more complicated.