DxD 8 — Light Polish
Scene 1
"Launch your spells."
The order left my mouth as we watched the men below move through the mist.
They wore standard devil armor made for battle, each chest marked with the Lucifer crest—an inverted star displayed proudly enough that I almost laughed. So much for hiding who sent them.
Their group had traveled by boat, using small flame spells to heat the water and create a layer of mist around their approach. It was enough to block easy spotting from the shoreline and confuse weaker scouts. Even the familiars my advisors and scouts had placed weren't spared. Several had been burned out before they reached close enough to report.
Good.
That meant the enemy wasn't entirely useless.
It also meant they thought clearing the obvious eyes was the same as moving unseen.
From our position above the inlet, I watched two cloaked figures look up just as the demonic magic circles finished forming around us. A heartbeat later, dozens of spells were launched toward the boat and the soldiers already disembarking onto the shore.
Fireballs. Ice shards. Spears of compressed wind. Pieces of earth ripped from the ground and thrown by idiots who mistook weight for proper spellcraft.
The spells fell like meteors.
The enemy froze for half a breath before being forced into the dilemma I wanted. Protect the ship, protect themselves, or protect the soldiers still caught between water and land.
They chose the ship.
An ice shell enclosed the top of the vessel, sealing over the deck just before the first wave struck. Spells burst across the surface, cracking the ice in bright flashes of flame and impact. But beneath the shield, their soldiers began screaming as the attacks raining beyond the shell tore into those stranded on the shore.
That was what I wanted my advisors to understand.
Long-term war did not mean prolonging every battle. Proper foresight ended fights before the enemy understood they had begun.
"Kill any survivors."
I jumped.
Black lightning crawled over my hands as I dropped toward the ship. The ice shell rose slightly beneath the strain of another impact, and I punched down into the section nearest me.
The shell shattered on contact.
A fist tried to catch me through the broken ice, but I pushed it aside and forced my lightning through the arm. The current raced up the limb before exploding once it reached the devil's chest.
He was launched backward into the ship.
A pure red orb cut toward my head a moment later.
I tilted aside just enough for it to miss by a hair before landing on the fractured deck. The planks beneath my boots cracked from the impact, smoke and frost curling around me while screams broke out across the shoreline.
Above us, my men released a war cry and descended on the disoriented soldiers.
Good.
They understood the timing.
The enemy soldiers tried to regroup, but their formation had already been broken. That was the weakness of a society too comfortable measuring strength by the amount of energy someone carried instead of the quality of their discipline.
"Nice to finally meet you, Sirzechs," I said, grinning at the two cloaked figures across from me. "I heard I have something you want."
I forced my crown into existence.
Not fully.
Just enough for the pressure to settle over the ship.
Then I launched a bolt of black lightning toward him.
It struck his cloak on purpose.
The fabric tore apart in a flash of black light.
Scene 2
"And I guess you're the traitor," I said, raising my hand and knocking aside the ice spear the silver-haired woman launched at me. "Grayfia Lucifuge. I guess everyone isn't happy with Lucifer's decisions."
Her ruined cloak slipped from her shoulders, exposing her face fully now.
Sirzechs' cloak had been burned away by my lightning as well, leaving him standing there with that same warm smile he liked wearing even as his soldiers were being slaughtered below us.
"Tenebris, this doesn't concern you," Sirzechs said. "We're here to aid Serafall in taking down the remaining Leviathan clans."
"I'll believe a devil when I meet God."
His smile froze.
Only for a moment.
Then he forced the annoyance deeper beneath his expression.
"A subordinate of Serafall has no place to block my pat—"
I didn't let him finish.
The deck cracked under my feet as I blitzed forward.
Our fists met in the center of the ship, black lightning and crimson destruction tearing through the planks beneath us. The impact sent frost, smoke, and splinters outward in a rough circle.
Sirzechs held the exchange better than most would have.
That was the problem with natural monsters. Even when they lacked refinement, their bodies still carried enough talent to avoid dying instantly.
I stepped back as another ice spear cut through the space where my head had been. My hand lifted, and a bolt of black lightning snapped toward the weaker opponent.
Grayfia raised a wall of ice.
The lightning punched through it and threw her into the side of the ship hard enough to make the wood groan. Blood slipped from her mouth as she pushed herself back up.
Sirzechs moved immediately.
A claw of densely packed destruction formed over his hand and tore toward my face.
I leaned back.
It caught the edge of my shirt and erased a strip of fabric before I drove a lightning-coated fist into his jaw.
His head snapped back.
"Come on," I said, grinning wider. "I know you can't break loose or it'll reveal your move. So let's refine this pathetic excuse you call close combat."
His eyes sharpened.
I slammed my foot against the deck and sent a shallow wave of black lightning crawling outward.
It barely carried enough power to matter.
That was the point.
Grayfia checked her advance for half a breath, and half a breath was enough.
My foot struck her chest before she could recover.
She flew backward into the wall again, cracking the wood behind her.
Sirzechs stepped in before I could follow.
Good.
I forced him back into close combat, keeping my body positioned so that one wrong move from him would let me dodge while Grayfia ate an attack she couldn't survive.
He understood it.
That made his anger worse.
Every exchange cost him more soldiers. While he stood here trading blows with me, my men carved through the elite force he'd brought with him. Middle-rank devils by their standards. Soldiers with natural strength and accumulated energy.
And yet they were being met by men built through conditioning, repetition, pain, and actual war discipline.
A naturally strong body meant nothing if the mind inside it panicked the moment formation broke.
"Woooooo!"
I laughed as another clash between us tore through the deck. By now, the ship looked less like a vessel and more like a battlefield barely pretending to float.
Then the retreat horn sounded from above.
My advisors had seen enough.
The assault had done what it needed to do.
I stepped back.
"You lost this time," I said. "Will you accept defeat, or do you want to turn this into a war?"
Sirzechs stared daggers into me.
The crimson destruction around his body pulsed hard enough to eat at the air. He was barely keeping it from breaking loose completely.
Grayfia rose beside him, breathing harder than before, her silver hair falling loose around her face.
"You better watch your back, scum," Sirzechs said through clenched teeth. "Once I have the Sitri under my clan, you'll be my property."
I laughed.
"If you think that'll work, then give it a shot, little devil. It would appear only one of us is delusional enough to think he's really above Gods."
His expression twisted.
"Here's a tip," I said. "Don't go knocking on Death's door, because the owner might be home to answer."
I turned away before he could answer and formed platforms of demonic energy beneath my feet, walking upward through the air while the last of my men pulled back from the shoreline.
My wings remained sealed.
Just like Lady Sitri requested.
Showing them now would give too much ammunition to those trying to drag me further into this fight for the seats. The devil clans already saw value in ownership. I had no intention of giving them another symbol to build arguments around.
Behind me, the ruined ship creaked beneath Sirzechs' feet.
He had come to take leverage.
Instead, he had given us a reason to move.
Scene 3
"Leave a few men to watch over their retreat," I ordered. "If they go farther inland, notify Serafall of the fight that occurred here. The rest of you, gather your soldiers and start taking territory."
The advisors around me bowed before splitting apart.
"The more land we grab now, the more Sirzechs and Ajuka lose leverage over the conversation."
That was the real victory.
Not the ship.
Not the soldiers.
Not even forcing Sirzechs to swallow his anger.
The real victory was the opening he had given us.
Everyone left through different teleportation circles, each one connected to armies Lady Sitri had already positioned around Leviathan territory. Those forces would become active now that our supposed allies had made a move that could be seen as hostile.
From there, they would push into Beelzebub territory and take as much land as possible before anyone could properly object.
The more territory we secured, the stronger Serafall's future base of operations became.
The more roads we controlled, the fewer options Sirzechs and Ajuka had when the conversation finally reached a table.
"We'll take as many as possible," the head advisor said as his circle formed beneath him. "Best of luck, sir."
He vanished in a flash of demonic light.
I looked back toward the smoking shoreline one last time.
Sirzechs had brought soldiers, titles, and confidence.
By sunset, Serafall would own the roads he needed to bargain with.
I focused on my own departure.
A magical circle bearing the Sitri family crest formed beneath my feet, swallowing the battlefield in blue light.