In the opulent dining hall of the Gremory estate, the air was thick with unspoken tensions and the heavy scent of rich, expensive dishes.
Seated around the massive, darkwood table were Rias, her brother Sirzechs, and their parents, Zeoticus and Venelana.
Across from them, Riser Phenex sat in stifling awkwardness, his posture rigid as the Gremory family conversed amongst themselves, pointedly excluding him from their circle.
Sirzechs, in particular, seemed to relish the dynamic, never missing an opportunity to lace his words with a venomous, sarcastic edge aimed directly at the Phenex.
"Riser Phenex," Sirzechs began, his voice deceptively light as he finally deigned to address him directly. "I've been hearing some rather… unpleasant rumors circulating lately. Nasty ones, at that. They say you've even begun to extend your… hands… toward your own sister. I do hope you'll be mindful of your conduct around Rias. She is your fiancée, a future pillar of the Gremory house, not some common toy for your fleeting amusement."
Before Riser could form a retort, Zeoticus interjected, his voice a low, authoritative rumble that cut through the growing hostility. "Sirzechs, that is enough. Do not overstep your bounds. No matter his personal habits, Riser is the fiancé I personally chose for Rias. Are you now standing here in my own home, openly doubting my judgment and vision for our family's future?"
"You have my most sincere apologies, Father," Sirzechs replied, though his tone was anything but apologetic, and his eyes held a glint of pure, undiluted disdain as they remained locked on Riser. "But his well-documented habit of flirting with any woman who happens to breathe is frankly unbecoming. It paints him as an unsuitable match for my dear, pure-hearted sister."
This scene was a familiar, agonizing ritual for Riser.
Every single time Zeoticus Gremory invited him over in the hope of fostering some semblance of a relationship between him and Rias, Sirzechs would inevitably butt in.
He would systematically dismantle the evening, hurling sarcastic barbs and carefully crafted insults at every possible opportunity.
It was because of Sirzechs' relentless insult that his relationship with Rias had not only failed to advance from its icy, formal state, but had actively deteriorated, growing worse and more poisoned with each encounter.
Whenever Sirzechs spoke, he would expertly drag Riser's name through the mud, exaggerating his illicit affairs and playboy nature until the man sounded like a monster of pure appetite.
Rias, forced to listen to this character assassination, would visibly shrink, her beautiful face hardening, her emerald eyes filling with a fresh wave of disgust and hatred for him.
The cruelest part was the distortion of the truth.
While it was true he enjoyed the physical comforts of his peerage members, a mutually understood arrangement, in Sirzechs' theatrical narratives, he was portrayed as a ravenous beast who would fuck anything that breathed, a man with no standards and no loyalty.
It made Riser's blood boil, and a single, burning question echoed in his mind: Why? Why did Sirzechs Lucifer, a Satan, feel the need to dedicate so much effort to systematically humiliating him?
"If you hold me in such contempt and genuinely believe we are so unsuitable," Riser finally bit out, his voice cold and sharp as he locked eyes with the Satan, a flicker of raw fury breaking through his usual composed mask, "then the logical course would have been to advocate for breaking this engagement long ago. So, what is your true aim, Lord Sirzechs? What do you gain from this constant public humiliation, from these harsh words?"
"Are you suggesting," Sirzechs chuckled darkly, a predatory smile playing on his lips, "that my precious, beloved Rias should be publicly dumped by the likes of you? Should she be forced to bear the reputation of an unwanted woman, cast aside by the infamous Riser Phenex? Don't worry, Riser. The two of you will be married in the future. Everything I say is, of course, for your own good and for Rias's. After all, what young woman doesn't dream of a faithful and devoted husband?"
A wave of bitter exhaustion washed over Riser.
"Enough of this pointless chatter, Lord Sirzechs," he sighed, the fight momentarily draining from him. "And do not for a second believe that I am blind to the source of my ruined reputation. Before this cursed engagement to Rias was ever proposed, I was happy. I was respected. The Devil world praised me as a prodigy for my continuous victories in the Rating Games. They called me the 'Undefeated Phenex.' But what is the truth now? Ever since this political arrangement was forced upon me, the public only knows me as a pathetic playboy, a scumbag, and a piece of trash who carelessly plays with women's hearts. We both know who has been diligently orchestrating that rumor."
Venelana, sensing the conversation was teetering on the edge of a catastrophic breakdown, cleared her throat softly.
"Ahem. Everyone, please," she interjected, her voice a gentle but firm attempt to steer the evening back from the brink. "Let us focus on the meal before us. The food is growing cold. Please, let us all just… eat."
She cast a specific, pleading look toward her eldest son, a silent command to stand down.
Sirzechs, receiving his mother's look, gave a slow, almost hippie-like nod, a placid smile spreading across his face that didn't reach his cold eyes.
"Don't be so serious, Riser," he said, his tone shifting to one of false, breezy nonchalance. "Let's all just stay civil and eat. Enjoy whatever food suits your liking. You wouldn't want your dear parents to worry about you causing a scene now, would you?"
Riser snorted, a cold, sharp sound that barely contained the inferno of fury raging within him.
He could feel the heat of his own anger burning in his veins, a Phenex's fire begging to be unleashed, yet he forced it down, swallowing the bitter taste of his own humiliation.
He knew, with an absolute certainty, that Sirzechs was not making an idle threat.
The subtle pressure in the air, the unyielding coldness in the Satan's eyes, it was all a promise of utter ruin if Riser dared to disobey or escalate this further.
If the disparaging gap in their raw power didn't exist, he would have already slammed his fist directly into Sirzechs's smug face for humiliating him over and over in his own family home.
He had actually tried it once, in a moment of blind rage early in the engagement.
The result had been the gravest mistake of his life. Sirzechs hadn't just beaten him; he had dismantled him with an effortless, terrifying grace that left Riser broken and bleeding on the floor.
And then, to add ultimate insult to injury, a rumor was meticulously spread throughout the underworld: that Riser Phenex, in a depraved fit, had attempted to violently rape one of the Gremory manor's lowly servant girls.
It was then that Riser understood the truth. The man before him, the so-called Maou, was not the benevolent, peace-loving figure he presented to the public.
He was a vicious, calculating snake who would sink to any depth to crush his enemies.
"...I see."
The words were flat, devoid of all emotion.
He stood from his seat, the heavy wooden chair scraping softly against the polished floor.
He made a point of pushing it back with a controlled, gentle motion, not giving them the satisfaction of seeing him tear it apart in a furious, dramatic exit like they all probably expected.
"All of you," Riser stated, his voice a perfectly controlled, icy calm that betrayed none of the storm inside, "have made your positions exceptionally clear tonight. I will not trouble your family any further with my... unbecoming presence."
He let his gaze sweep over each of them, Zeoticus's stubborn pride, Venelana's pained sympathy, Rias's cold disdain, and finally, Sirzechs's triumphant smirk.
"But rest assured," he promised, the words dropping like stones into the tense silence, "one day, you may all very well come to deeply, regret how you chose to treat me here tonight."
Sirzechs opened his mouth, undoubtedly ready to launch another witty, cutting barb to dismantle Riser's parting shot and send him off with one final humiliation.
But the words never came.
The world itself froze.
The flickering flames of the grand dining hall's candles halted, frozen solid in mid-dance.
The gentle sway of Rias's long, crimson hair stopped dead, as if caught in a photograph.
The very air grew still and heavy.
Even the flow of time itself locked into place, suspending the Gremory family in a perfect, unmoving tableau.
Only Riser could move.
His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat in the absolute silence.
And then, from directly behind him, a soft, divine glow erupted, filling the frozen room with a light that was both gentle and all-powerful.
A voice, resonant and ancient, spoke directly into the core of his mind, bypassing his ears entirely.
"Riser Phenex."
The voice was infinite calm and absolute authority woven together.
Riser turned slowly, his body moving almost against his will, a deep, primal instinct compelling him to face the source of that presence.
Standing behind him was a figure no devil should ever have laid eyes upon.
A being whose very existence was a paradox in the heart of the Underworld.
He was clad in simple, pristine white robes that seemed to be woven from light itself.
A radiant, peaceful aura pulsed from him, so overwhelming it was difficult to look directly at him.
His eyes… his eyes held swirling galaxies and the birth of stars, containing depths of knowledge and power that stretched into infinity.
It was the God of the Bible.
Alive.
And he was smiling gently at Riser.
"You have suffered enough," God stated, the words not just heard, but felt, a balm and a judgment all at once.
Riser blinked, his mind reeling, struggling to process the impossible.
"W-Wait…" he stammered, his voice a shaky whisper. "Aren't you supposed to be…"
"Dead?" God chuckled, the sound warm and knowing, like a universe being born. "No. A God never truly dies. The one who perished in your recorded history was merely one of my countless clones, a single facet of my consciousness existing within one strand of the vast omniverse."
"This world's timeline has deviated too far from its intended narrative, Riser Phenex," God continued, His gaze piercing through Riser's very soul. "Someone has actively manipulated your fate. That is the true reason the world has never been kind to you, why your path has been one of constant hardship and undeserved scorn."
"Who?" Riser demanded, his brow furrowing in a mix of confusion and a rising, bitter anger. "Who would do that?"
"Sirzechs Lucifer..." The name fell from God's lips, heavy with divine disappointment. "He has joined something he was never meant to. An organization from beyond your dimensional plane. You may have never heard of it, they call themselves the 'Multiverse Chat Group.' But do not be fooled by the mundane name."
"These people are not guardians of balance or order. They are parasites on the fabric of reality. However, Sirzechs is merely an agent. The true architect of your downfall, the one who demanded your ruin, is a Chinese descent who proclaims himself to be a prophet. His ultimate goal is to pave the way for his own future invasion and conquest of your world."
Riser fell into a heavy, stunned silence.
He had no words.
Such concepts, multiverses, chat groups, interdimensional prophets were so far beyond his knowledge and capabilities that it felt like a sick joke.
The scale of it was suffocating.
He couldn't even defeat Sirzechs, the pawn. How in all the hells was he supposed to confront the hidden power behind the scenes, the one who had orchestrated his entire miserable life from the shadows?
A deep sense of helplessness threatened to crush him completely.
The deity extended a hand, and a gentle stream of shimmering holy light drifted toward Riser's forehead.
It felt warm, like sunlight passing through water, settling into him with a calm that didn't belong in the tense dining hall around them.
"Do not be afraid, child," the deity said, voice soft yet carrying a depth that made the air itself feel heavier. "I have not come to burden you with the task of opposing forces far beyond your current reach. I came to give you something you should have received long ago; happiness. What you truly deserve."
The holy light pulsed once.
"You will meet one hundred soulmates," the deity continued, "each of them connected to you by fate, each ready to love you and support you, no matter what kind of hardships lie ahead of you. And along with that, I grant you a means to venture through the multiverse itself, an ability that will let you encounter, befriend, and stand alongside beings of unimaginable power."
God's form began to dissolve back into the overwhelming light from which it came. "Farewell, Riser Phenex. May you finally seize the happiness that was always meant to be yours."
And just like that, He was gone.
A quiet stillness followed. Then, the dining hall began to move again. The frozen air loosened. Sounds returned. Time resumed its flow.
Sirzechs blinked calmly, unaware that anything had happened.
Rias kept glaring with that same sharp, dismissive look she always gave him.
Zeoticus continued eating with his usual noble posture, cutting his food with slow, practiced movements.
Only Venelana Gremory experienced a subtle, inexplicable shift.
She blinked, and as her eyes refocused on Riser, the way she perceived him was fundamentally, irrevocably altered.
A warmth bloomed deep within her chest, a flush creeping up her neck and coloring her cheeks.
Her heartbeat, once steady, now hammered against her ribs in a frantic, unfamiliar rhythm.
Her gaze, usually so composed and discerning, found itself locked onto him, unable to pull away.
She saw not the arrogant playboy her son described, but a man of fierce, wounded pride, whose eyes now held a newfound resolve.
She was utterly unaware that the divine entity had just subtly rewired her very soul to see him as her first and most perfect soulmate.
Meanwhile, Riser didn't pay attention to any of them.
His focus snapped toward a new presence, something only he could see.
A translucent notification hovered in front of him.
[Congratulations, Riser Phenex. You are eligible to join the Dimensional Guild.]
A faint shock ran through his body.
Then realization followed.
He wasn't powerless anymore.
He wasn't trapped.
He wasn't alone.
For the first time, something inside him ignited.
A savage, predatory grin spread across Riser's face.
The feeling of powerlessness that had choked him for years evaporated, replaced by a roaring, phoenix-fire confidence.
He was no longer the powerless pawn in Sirzechs's twisted game.
In that final, crystallized moment of fury and the sweet promise of revenge, intricate, burning runes of pure phoenix fire erupted around his feet.
The air crackled with displaced energy.
In the space between one heartbeat and the next, he vanished from his place at the table and instantly rematerialized directly in front of Sirzechs's chair.
Sirzechs, who had spent years underestimating and belittling Riser, was caught completely off-guard.
His eyes had only a fraction of a second to widen in shock before Riser's fist, wreathed in blazing golden-orange flames, slammed into his face with the full, vengeful force of the Phoenix fury.
The impact was sickeningly solid.
A sharp crunch of cartilage echoed in the hall as Sirzechs's nose shattered.
He was thrown backward, his ornate chair exploding into splinters under the force, his body tumbling across the polished floor in a graceless heap.
Blood, shockingly crimson, poured from his nostrils, staining his white attire and the pristine floor.
By the time the disgraced Maou's mind processed the pain and the utter humiliation, his demonic power flaring with the intent to retaliate, it was already too late.
Riser had already disappeared, the phoenix runes fading from the empty space where he'd stood.
He was nowhere to be seen.
"RISER PHENEX, HOW DARE YOU!!"
Sirzechs roared, his pride shattered and his temper exploding.
Power surged around him, the destructive aura tearing into the air as he lashed out purely from rage and humiliation, unaware that the one he sought was already far beyond his reach.