The grand reception hall prepared for the upcoming Rating Game buzzed with conversation. Noble families from across the Underworld had gathered long before the match was due to begin. While the competitors waited for their teleportation to the game board, guests mingled beneath towering crystal chandeliers, discussing politics, alliances, and the outcome of the duel that was about to decide the future of two noble houses.
At one side of the hall, Rias adjusted the sleeve of her dress and let out a slow breath, trying to settle the knot that had formed in her stomach since morning.
Akeno noticed immediately and stepped closer, a teasing smile playing at her lips. "Nervous?"
"A little," Rias admitted.
"I'd be more surprised if you weren't." Akeno's tone softened. "Everyone in this room came to watch you win. Just remember that."
"I doubt they came for me," Rias said, the words quieter than she intended. "It's just... if I lose, there's no more room to argue. No more time." She glanced toward the far side of the hall, where Riser held court among his own peerage, and forced her expression back into something composed. No one in her circle argued with her — they all understood exactly what was riding on the outcome, even if none of them said it aloud.
Across the room, Riser Phoenix stood at the center of his own small crowd, accepting greetings from noble families with the effortless, practiced confidence of a man who had never once doubted his own worth. His white suit, trimmed in gold, caught the chandelier light every time he moved, and he wore his pride the way other men wore cologne — visibly, and without apology.
One of his peerage members leaned in close enough to speak without being overheard. "Lord Riser, we still haven't heard back from the four retainers who have goon to the Human World."
Riser barely glanced at him. "They're probably just having fun. No need to fuss over it."
"They were supposed to report in yesterday evening, my lord."
"Then they'll can report tomorrow." Riser said with a careless shrug, already turning back toward a cluster of admiring guests. "It's hardly the first time."
The retainer hesitated, clearly unconvinced, but bowed his head anyway. "As you wish, my lord." He said nothing further, though the unease didn't quite leave his face as he stepped back into the crowd.
Several floors above the hall, Sirzechs Lucifer stood out on one of the manor's open balconies, watching the steady stream of guests arrive through the gates below. From here he had a clear view of the courtyard, and the light caught the edge of his expression, unusually distant for a man hosting such an important event.
Grayfia stepped out to join him, her footsteps near-silent against the stone. "Everything has been prepared. The arena is ready, and so is everyone else."
Sirzechs nodded, though the gesture felt automatic rather than present.
"You seem distracted," she observed, studying the side of his face.
He remained quiet for several seconds before answering. "Azazel contacted me yesterday."
That alone was enough for Grayfia to realize the matter was serious. Azazel rarely reached out directly unless something demanded immediate attention.
"What did he report?"
Sirzechs looked back out over the courtyard. "A situation that may become troublesome."
Grayfia lowered her eyes for a moment, weighing the implications before asking the question that mattered most. "Do you believe him?"
Before Sirzechs could answer, a servant stepped out onto the balcony and bowed low. "Your Majesty, the guests have nearly all arrived. We're prepared to begin the opening ceremony whenever you give the word."
"We'll begin shortly. Thank you."
The servant excused himself, leaving the two of them alone again. Grayfia glanced out over the railing. "The Rating Game should proceed without incident, regardless of what's troubling you."
Sirzechs didn't answer right away. His gaze had drifted past the courtyard, toward the distant gate and the road beyond it, as though some part of him expected trouble to come walking up that very path. "I hope you're right," he said at last, and the quiet doubt in his voice lingered long after he'd spoken.
Down in the courtyard, life continued exactly as it had all afternoon. Luxury vehicles arrived in steady succession, guards greeting each guest with practiced courtesy before waving them through the gates. Nothing about the scene suggested anything was wrong.
Then, all at once, everyone outside froze.
A wave of infernal power rolled across the estate without warning, heavy and unmistakable, pressing down on the air itself. Every guard, every servant, every guest still making their way up the drive felt it in their bones — a pressure that made hands drift instinctively toward weapons, made breath catch in throats. Heads snapped upward in near-perfect unison as the sky itself seemed to tear open above the courtyard, space folding and twisting until orange hellfire erupted into being, curling and spreading until it formed a massive burning ring suspended over the entrance. The flames didn't spread outward the way normal fire would. They simply burned in place, silent and strange, casting a flickering orange glow across every upturned face below.
Inside the hall, the guests felt the same crushing pressure roll through the building, though none of them could see its source. Conversations died mid-sentence. Glasses paused halfway to lips. Rias stiffened, her hand instinctively finding Akeno's sleeve, while across the room even Riser's easy smile faltered for the first time all afternoon.
"What was that?" someone near the doors murmured.
"Something's happening outside," another voice said, edged with unease.
No one inside had an answer, and no one could see past the hall's high windows to find one.
Out in the courtyard, though, there was no mistaking what hung above them.
"...Hellfire?" a guard breathed.
"That's not right," another cut in, weapon already drawn. "No devil have magic like that."
"Then what is it?" a third demanded, backing away from the light. "Some kind of relic? A summoning?"
No one had an answer for that either. Guards formed a loose, uncertain perimeter beneath the burning ring, weapons raised toward a threat none of them understood. Several nobles still crossing the courtyard exchanged uneasy glances, their earlier composure draining fast.
On the balcony above, Sirzechs had gone rigid, his gaze locked on the portal tearing open over his own front gate. "What is that?" he said quietly, more to himself than to Grayfia beside him.
Before either of them could offer an answer, the roar of an engine tore through the silence from somewhere deep inside the flames — growing louder, closer, until something finally burst free of the portal.
A black scooter shot out of the hellfire gateway like it had been fired from a cannon, hurtling down toward the courtyard below.
**BOOM.**
The impact shook the entire estate. Stone shattered beneath the tires, cracks spidering out across the courtyard as a cloud of dust and debris billowed outward in every direction. The tremor reached even into the hall, rattling the chandeliers and startling a fresh wave of gasps from guests who still had no idea what was happening beyond the walls.
Outside, guards rushed instinctively toward the point of impact, weapons raised, forming a tight ring around the settling dust — but nothing moved. The engine simply idled beneath the haze, steady and unbothered, as though its rider had all the time in the world.
Then the scooter lurched forward and accelerated straight toward the manor.
"Stop him!" someone shouted, and several guards charged in to intercept.
They never got close.
The scooter tore through the front doors in an explosion of splintered wood and shattered stone, scattering guests and servants alike as it roared into the entrance hall. Every conversation inside died at once. Every head turned toward the wreckage at the doorway — and for the first time, the guests who had spent the last several minutes bewildered by tremors and distant noise finally saw, with their own eyes, exactly what had been happening outside.
The engine cut out, leaving only silence and settling dust in its wake.
For several long seconds, no one in the hall spoke — nobles, guards, and hosts alike simply staring at the figure now seated at the center of the ruined entrance, waiting to see who, exactly, had just crashed a Rating Game.
Authors note: well I have no idea about the fight it's not that I can't write it's the way a Ghost Rider should fight there no way he is going to exchange few punches and we can call at a game over. If you guys don't comment for throw suggestion match take one of two weeks just to decide the fight