The confrontation came sooner than Dean expected.
A high-class devil named Sairaorg, known for his brutal strength and disdain for Sacred Gears, decided that Dean's independence was an insult to the traditional order. He challenged Dean to a battle, not to the death, but to submission. Whoever surrendered first would acknowledge the other's superiority.
"You don't have to accept," Issei said when he heard about the challenge. "Sairaorg is one of the strongest devils alive. You could die."
"I know," Dean said. "But if I refuse, everyone will think I'm weak. The Unbound will lose credibility, and Sairaorg will just keep pushing until I have no choice but to fight anyway."
"So you're going to fight him anyway."
"Yes."
The battle took place in a neutral arena, a space between spaces created specifically for supernatural duels. Hundreds of spectators gathered to watch: devils, angels, fallen angels, and various other supernatural beings. Everyone wanted to see if this upstart human could really challenge the established order.
Sairaorg was massive, his body rippling with muscle, his power radiating outward in waves. When the duel began, he came at Dean with overwhelming force, each punch carrying enough power to shatter stone.
Dean didn't try to match his strength. Instead, he used his runes.
He'd prepared for this battle, carving temporary runes into his body that enhanced his speed, his durability, and his magical output. As Sairaorg attacked, Dean moved with inhuman quickness, dodging the massive blows and striking back with precision.
But Sairaorg was faster than Dean expected. One of his punches connected, sending Dean flying backward. He crashed into the arena wall, gasping for breath.
"Is that all?" Sairaorg laughed. "I expected more from someone who's been getting so much attention."
Dean pushed himself back to his feet. His ribs ached where Sairaorg had hit him, but nothing was broken. He'd prepared for this too, using soul forging to strengthen his body beyond normal human limits.
"You're strong," Dean said. "But strength alone isn't enough."
He closed his eyes and began to meditate, even as Sairaorg charged at him again. The spectators gasped. Was Dean surrendering? But then they felt it: a surge of power that made even the high-class devils take a step back.
Dean had entered a state of perfect focus, channeling all of his magical energy into a single technique. The runes on his body flared with light, and his soul became visible, a golden aura that surrounded him like armor.
When Sairaorg's punch came, Dean caught it.
The impact sent a shockwave through the arena, cracking the ground beneath them. But Dean held firm, his rune-enhanced body and soul-forged strength enough to match the devil's raw power.
"What?" Sairaorg snarled, unable to believe that a human could stop him.
Dean smiled. "I told you. Strength alone isn't enough."
What followed was the most intense battle of Dean's life. Sairaorg threw everything at him: raw power, technique, experience. But Dean had something the devil didn't: understanding. He understood how magical energy flowed, how to use runes to enhance his abilities, how to forge his soul into an unbreakable weapon.
It took twenty minutes of brutal combat, but eventually, Sairaorg fell to his knees, exhausted.
"I yield," he gasped.
The arena erupted. The human had defeated a high-class devil. The impossible had become possible.
As Dean helped Sairaorg to his feet, the devil looked at him with a mixture of respect and frustration. "You've changed the game," Sairaorg said. "The old ways won't work anymore. Not against someone like you."
"That's the point," Dean replied. "The old ways were broken. I'm just showing that there's a better path."
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