"The Maou is furious. That kid's done for."

"Serves that bastard human right. He's going to die."

"Acting so arrogant toward Lord Lucifer… what a lost cause."

"Foolish mortal."

Whispers laced with venom and envy filled the grand banquet hall. The devils surrounding Akira wore twisted smirks, as if eagerly awaiting the show's final act—the fall of the arrogant boy who dared to defy a Maou.

But—

"…S-Sirzechs?" Serafall's voice trembled softly, her eyes wide with disbelief.

She had known Sirzechs Lucifer longer than anyone. Despite being one of the Four Great Maou, he rarely displayed emotion—especially not anger—unless it directly affected the future of devilkind.

Yet now… he looked genuinely enraged.

All because of a fifteen-year-old boy?

"…What's really going on here?" Serafall murmured, her tone tinged with unease.

Then, Sirzechs' sharp, icy gaze landed—not on Akira—but on the mangled form of Diodora Astaroth.

More precisely, on Diodora's severed arm.

There was something embedded within it.

A fragment of something ancient and malevolent.

—A piece of the Snake belonging to Ophis, the Infinite Dragon God.

Most devils wouldn't have noticed. But Sirzechs was a Transcendent—a being who had surpassed even Maou-level power.

His magical sensitivity far exceeded normal comprehension. Nothing escaped his perception.

"You've figured it out already," Akira said casually, though his voice carried weight. "So why pretend you haven't?"

"As a blood relative of Ajuka Beelzebub and the rightful heir of House Astaroth… how could he—?"

"You really think he got that title cleanly?"

Akira's words struck like lightning.

Everyone remembered the mysterious death of the previous Astaroth heir. Afterward, Diodora had quietly risen to take the position.

Now, when all the pieces were laid out…

Sirzechs' expression darkened further.

If the culprit had been part of the Old Maou faction, he might've expected it. After all, his own generation had once wrenched power from their grasp.

But Diodora?

He was part of the new generation—a noble who had thrived under the rule of the current Maou.

And now he was selling himself to the Khaos Brigade?

The atmosphere shifted.

The magical pressure released from Sirzechs grew denser—hotter.

It felt like molten lava was about to burst from every corner of the hall.

Even Sairaorg Bael, known as the strongest among the young devils, was thrown back and crushed to his knees.

Akira stood motionless, caught in the immense gravity of Sirzechs' aura. Even he had to admit—this was a different dimension altogether.

This wasn't Maou-level power.

This was beyond that.

The gap between an Ultimate-class Devil and a Maou was immense. But between a Maou and a Transcendent?

It was a chasm.

If a Maou could conquer worlds, then a Transcendent was a living weapon—a walking catastrophe, capable of shifting the balance of races and nations.

With a flash of crimson light, Sirzechs vanished from the balcony and appeared between Akira and Diodora.

One step. Instant teleportation.

His presence shook the room.

Everyone understood now—Sirzechs' fury was not directed at Akira.

It was aimed at Diodora.

"Speak," Sirzechs ordered, his tone icy and absolute. "Tell me everything you know."

But Diodora said nothing.

Under the crushing weight of a Transcendent's magical aura, his mind had shattered. He stood there, paralyzed, eyes vacant, soul trembling.

"…He won't talk," Akira said, voice steady. "So I'll say it for him."

He turned toward the crowd.

"This man is Diodora Astaroth. He's in league with the Hero Faction, and he used fragments of Ophis' power—the Snake—to claim the Astaroth heirship. But that's not all. He's also working with remnants of the Old Maou faction… acting as a spy."

Sirzechs narrowed his eyes. "And how do you know this?"

His anger began to shift—no longer wild, but focused. Controlled. Calculating.

"I found the first clue when I met Asia."

Akira's voice was calm, but his words stirred the entire room.

"…Asia?" Rias echoed in shock. Akeno and the rest of the guests turned to stare at Asia Argento, who looked equally stunned and confused.

Akira nodded.

"Diodora is a twisted man. Obsessed with nuns. Holy girls. He gets off on defiling them—breaking their purity and claiming them through lies."

Gasps echoed through the hall.

Rias clenched her fists.

Akeno's expression darkened.

Xenovia and Irina—both former Church warriors—visibly tensed, anger building in their eyes.

"Asia was one of his targets," Akira continued. "He faked a life-threatening injury to lure her into healing him. Then, he leaked that information to the Church. She was labeled a traitor and excommunicated."

"…Scum!" Xenovia spat.

She had once doubted Asia's past, even looked down on her.

Now, learning the truth made her seethe with guilt—and rage.

Asia had suffered, and the man responsible was standing right in front of them.

"If I hadn't intervened," Akira said, "Asia would've fallen into his hands. Fortunately, when she was cast out, the Fallen Angels found her first. I later wiped out that group… and she's been under my protection since."

He turned to glance at Rias.

"Diodora never dared act after that. Not with you around."

Sirzechs slowly nodded.

Then, his eyes locked onto Diodora—void of mercy.

Without warning, his Power of Destruction erupted, forming dark crimson flames that wrapped around Diodora's severed arm.

Within seconds, the limb—and the Ophis fragment inside—was erased from existence.

Not disintegrated. Not burned.

Erased.

Nothing remained. No dust. No magic. No trace.

Even Akira, watching from mere feet away, couldn't hide his unease.

He had heard that Sirzechs could destroy Ophis' Snake fragments.

But seeing it in person?

That was something else entirely.

Sirzechs' Power of Destruction wasn't just powerful.

It was absolute.

If that had touched him—he was certain even his soul would've been annihilated.

Compared to Rias' crimson flames, Sirzechs' power wasn't just stronger.

It was fundamentally different.

One was fire.

The other was a miniature star.

"Take him," Sirzechs ordered.

A devil-class operative emerged from the shadows, grabbed Diodora's limp body, and vanished without a word.

Silence fell over the hall.

Tension lingered in the air like a storm cloud refusing to clear.

Sirzechs finally let out a quiet sigh.

He knew the mood of the banquet had been shattered beyond repair.

But so be it.

This night was never meant to be just another celebration.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

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