A Demon Lord's Hero

by Fahad09

When I sold my soul to the Devil, I thought I was prepared for anything. I wasn't. I didn't expect him to be a her. Or dressed up as a magical girl carrying a pink wand tipped with a cheerful yellow star. Her being a prankster however didn't come as much of a surprise. You know, the Bible would have been a whole lot more interesting if they included stuff like this. Complete AU

16. Chapter 16: We're all going to Hell

Chapter 16:

We're all going straight to hell

---

"That's a train Shirou."

I nodded while looking around, making sure that my Peerage was all here and accounted for. They were, but I double-checked just to be sure. I didn't want to accidentally leave anyone behind, as it wasn't like we could turn back and pick them up. We were going to another world after all. "I'm aware of that."

"We're going to Hell…by train." Xenovia stared at the open door to our carriage in clear distrust. "That is a literal train ride to Hell, and you're asking me to get on it."

I pondered on her words before nodding, "Yup, pretty much."

Beside me, Xenovia was dressed up in the same black suit and tie that she had been wearing when we first met. In her hands, wrapped in black leather gloves, she griped a sheathed longsword, one that I had given her a few days prior.

Xenovia just sighed and crossed her arms "Well, I did say that I'd follow you to Hell and back." She thought on it for a moment before nodding decisively. "Very well, if that's the way things are, so be it. I was prepared for this when I became your Knight. Though, I do admit, out of all the possible ways I imagined I would end up going to Hell, this wasn't one of them."

"How did you imagine it then." Finally giving her my full attention now that I made sure everyone was accounted for.

Ramiel and other Fallen were here, I couldn't tell exactly where but I could sense them well enough by now to know that they were nearby. Asia had already climbed aboard, having already been through the trip once before so was no longer excited by it.

I could see Shirone and Gasper on the other side of the platform, in front of the carriage that belonged to the Gremory Clan along with the rest of their Peerage mates, while Sona and her Peerage were a little farther away behind them, standing in front of her own Clan's carriage.

Gasper was hiding inside of a cardboard box that he had found somewhere, and it was only due to a pair of pink glowing eyes that I could see peeking through the box's hand holds that I knew he was there. Apparently when he found out that he was to be taken outside again he had scurried into the box and refused to get out, the armor I made for him had already fallen apart under the strain of his power and was now worthless, and instead of dragging him out by force, Kiba had graciously volunteered to carry him here instead.

Shirone was still dressed in her school uniform, just like the rest of us, none of us had bothered to change out of it, but rather unusually she had her tail out. It was lazily whipping left and right while her stoic face looked in my direction, amber eyes narrowed in clear displeasure towards me. Or to be more precise, they were aimed towards the little occupant currently resting on my back.

Ilya had fallen asleep on me again on our way here, and instead of forcing her to wake up I decided to carry her. When I had arrived home after I had finished my business with Sona and Gremory at school, while making sure I wasn't being followed by my new stalker, I expected to find everyone to be packed and ready for the trip to the Underworld. Instead I came back to find my home in shambles as if a miniature hurricane had run through it, with an exhausted Ilya sleeping smack down in the middle of it, clothes and hair disarrayed.

It seemed that while I was gone, Shirone had decided to drop by for a visit, or more accurately, she drop by in an attempt to flee from a certain someone at school. And that was how Ilya and Shirone ended up meeting for the first time.

Ilya, despite her unusual background, was in many ways a completely ordinary girl in regards to her tastes. She liked to shop, play games, dress up and universally loved all animals that were cute and cuddly. With but one notable exception. Cats. Ilya really, really didn't like cats. I had no idea why she didn't, maybe because she was more of a bird person than anything, but the point was Ilya never could stand cats.

And Shirone was pretty much a cat.

I was not quite sure exactly what happened; Asia claimed that they took one look at each other before Ilya said something along the lines of 'there can only be one of us', then they began to fight. By the end of it my house was a total mess and Ilya ended up so exhausted that she was all but asleep on her feet when I forced her up.

For once though, I was lucky. Since we were planing to leave the house today, I didn't need to worry about the mess. Serafall had already planned to send some contractors to renovate the place a bit while we were gone. Expanding the house and adding more rooms in case I ended up needing it, so I had already packed away anything important. Everything that had been ruined was furniture that Serafall had intended to replace anyway, so it was no real loss.

From behind me, I felt Ilya nuzzle happily into my back as she muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, 'Berserker, kill the kitty'.

I had to repress a shudder as the sheer joy she spoke that phrase caused me to flashback to the Holy Grail War. Not for the first time I was thankful that Berserker was no longer with us. Even if Ilya had adored the guy, that didn't stop me from being absolutely terrified of him. It was called having a survival instinct. And while I had no idea if it was possible for Servants to be Reincarnated into Devils, I had no doubt that if he was still here Ilya would sure as hell try. And a part of me was horrified of what would happen if she succeeded.

I could not even begin to imagine the kind of damage Ilya would cause if she had a Rook enhanced Berserker under her command but I knew there would be a large dip in the population of the Supernatural species around the world if she had.

Yes, it was a good thing for everyone that he was gone.

Deciding to simply stop thinking about it, I quickly turned to my blunette Knight, "So if not like this then how did you imagine you'd end up in hell?" I asked, more in hopes of taking my mind off Berserker than any real urge to know.

Xenovia shrugged her shoulders, "Oh the usual, with brimstone and hellfire as the Devil rips my soul out of my body and drags me down to damnation while I screamed in terror and beg for mercy." She shrugged again. "Pretty much how any human would imagine going to hell would be like." Then she nodded though the open carriage door, "What I didn't imagine was taking a train ride to Hell in what appears to be a luxury first-class carriage. Though I have to admit, if you're going to end up in Hell, this is the way to go."

She had a point there. Looking inside our designated carriage, the one reserved for Maous, their Peerage and personal guests, it was clear that it wasn't a typical carriage that you'd find in the Tokyo Underground. This was something straight out of a movie.

The walls of the interior was covered in expensive wood-veneered panels while the floor was coated with a rich lushes carpet that I knew from experience would sink under my weight. Swivel armchairs lined the walls with plenty of space in between them, with adjustable TV panels attached to their right arm rest. A small marble topped bar was set on one end of the carriage, no doubt stocked with every kind of drink imaginable, both of the alcoholic and nonalcoholic variety. The place even had its own bathroom with a large shower and even larger bathtub installed.

All in all it looked more like a gentleman's lounge than a train carriage, but after my stay in the Underworld things like this no longer surprised me. Devils generally were an ostentatious bunch and you could always count on them showing off their wealth. Kuoh Academy was a perfect example of this. Sometimes it felt as if that school building had more rooms in it than it did students.

What makes it a real waste was that Devils' rarely ever bother using the train. I might have been able to understand why someone would pour so much money on something like this if it was going to see regular use, there is nothing wrong with making your life more comfortable if you could afford it, but to spend so much on something that you would only use once a decade at most was an astonishing waste of money to me.

Normally Devils would teleport directly to the Underworld through the use of magic circles. And while it could take hours or even days to set up a stable link between the human world and Underworld, depending on the conditions in the Dimensional Gap, once the circle was established the trip was instantaneous, infinitely faster when compared to the two hours needed when traveling by train.

Which was why the train to the Underworld was rarely every used. Most Devils preferred teleporting directly rather than sit through the long train ride. Only newly Reincarnated Devils who have never entered the Underworld before needed to use it. It was basically for security and bureaucratic reasons more than anything. The train stations at the entrance to the Underworld contain scanners and equipment that would identify new Devils and registered their magic signature into the database as well as create identification documents for them.

From the open doors of the carriage, I spotted Serafall sitting on one of the chairs, spinning around in it like a child, while somehow still managing to hold a conversation with Asia who was in the seat next to her. I also noticed that Asia had a pile of neatly folded T-shirts on her lap that I knew she didn't have when she boarded the train earlier.

Xenovia shook her head, her bangs swaying. "Actually, Devils as a whole were nothing like I pictured them to be. Take the Queen of Hell for example," She nodded towards Serafall, who stopped her spinning to look at Xenovia the very instant she mentioned her title, as if she knew we were talking about her and, considering a Devil's heightened sense of hearing, she probably did. "I had always pictured her to be a mentally unstable individual with delusions of grandeur and godhood."

"And now?" I asked, curious about what opinion she had formed about my King, and going by the twinkling in Serafall's eyes, she was too. "What do you think of her now?"

"Now I realized that the Queen of Hell is an extremely mentally unstable individual with delusions of being a Magic Girl." Xenovia stated frankly, the idea of lying or being less blunt probably never occurred to her. She cocked her head to the side and frowned in thought, "And I'm honestly not sure whether that makes her less or more terrifying that I originally expected her to be."

Instead of being offended, Serafall's eyes just started twinkling even brighter as she stared at the girl that had just called her mental to her face. "…you know Shi-chan," She yelled out from across the carriage, "I think I may end up liking her. She's like one of those really smart people that don't have even a lick of common sense, isn't she?"

…And if that wasn't the kettle calling the pot black than I didn't know what is.

"And now I'm going to be riding the same train as her for next two hours." Xenovia sighed and crossed her arms, "If someone had told me that this was how my life would turn out just six months ago, I would have asked them what they had been drinking."

"Regretting it?" I asked, though I already knew her answer.

"Never." She answered resolutely, her reply instantaneous.

I couldn't stop the edge of my lips quirking up at that. If there was one thing I had learned about Xenovia during was how unbelievably stubborn she could be. Once she got an idea into her head, there was nothing that could ever change her mind. It didn't matter if that idea was dangerous, foolhardy or even if it was right or wrong, once she made up her mind there is nothing in Heaven or Hell or anything in between that would make her change it – even if that idea happened to be a completely stupid one.

She will regret nothing, running on her chosen path even if to the bitter end.

I had the feeling that even should she someday realize I wasn't Arthur – something that I hadn't stopped trying to convince her of – she wouldn't care. A part of me suspected that she may have had a better inkling about who I really was than she let on, but for some reason that hasn't stopped her from proclaiming that I was the one true king whenever she found anyone willing to listen.

"Have you gotten used to the sword yet?" I asked while eyeing the weapon in her hand.

Xenovia scowled at the question, not hiding her distaste about the subject, before answering almost reluctantly. "It's…a beautiful sword Shirou. Well balanced, solid and has an edge so sharp that it could easily match against the fake Excalibur Destruction and come out ahead. But…"

"It's not your sword." Picking up when she trailed off.

While it didn't apply to me as my whole fighting style revolved around using multiple swords, I understood why someone would feel uncomfortable using weapons other than their own.

There was a bond between a sword and it's user. Noble Phantasms, weapons that only existed because they were part of a Heroic Spirit's legend, was proof of that. Saber herself still favored Caliburn, her original sword, over even Excalibur, though it was the lesser of the two blades. And while it had only been a short while since I had given that blade to her, hardly even a couple of months, she had gotten remarkably attached to it.

Still, just because I understood didn't mean I could allow her to use it.

Xenovia nodded in agreement at my words, displeasure clear on her face. I sighed. "Xenovia, I told you that sword is extremely dangerous. At your current skill level your just as likely to end up hurting yourself than an enemy. Until you master it, you'll have to make do with the spare."

Still scowling, Xenovia nodded, "I understand Shirou, I truly do. I do have some experience with carrying around dangerous swords you know. As I am, I'm not ready to wield it. I know that better than anyone. But still, it just feels… wrong to carry another sword in my hands."

I noticed how the fingers of her empty hand seemed to twitch, clenching and unclenching , as if it longed to summon the blade in question from where it lay hidden. It currently rested in the same dimensional pocket that she had stored Durandal, but I knew she rarely left it there for long.

She'd take it out every chance she could, whether to practice with it or to simply hold the weapon and feel its weight in her hands. Honestly, it was almost scary how quickly she became attached to that sword, practically obsessed. It reached the point that I wouldn't be surprised to find out that she slept with the thing, cuddling it like a child would a teddy bear.

Ordinarily I wouldn't have been too concerned over the matter. For a sword enthusiast like Xenovia, it was only a natural reaction to owning one of my swords. It would have been an understandable reaction if the sword I had given her was one of my weaker Noble Phantasms. But to ended up with one of the more powerful ones, well, I couldn't blame her for latching onto it so strongly, especially when taking into account the recent loss of Durandal.

In a way, she may have even seen the sword as proof that her choice to follow me was the right one. That she had lost the right to wield one of the strongest swords she knew of, only for it to be replaced by something far stronger, it must have vindicated her decision. So I could understand.

No, it was not her reaction to the sword that bothered me but it was the sword that had me worried. Really, out of all the swords she could have chosen, why did it have to be that one?

Even though I had known her for less than a week at that point, it became almost painfully clear that for all of her outward confidence that she displayed, Xenovia had been feeling more than a little bit insecure with the loss of her sword. From what little I understood of how the Church's hierarchy functioned, that was understandable.

The reason Xenovia was so highly valued by the Church was not for her skills or loyalty, but because she was Durandal's chosen wielder. In their eyes, it was not the swordsman that was important, but the sword itself. To them, Xenovia was just that one that held it, a valuable asset but not an irreplaceable one.

Almost the entirety of Xenovia's sense of self-value had revolved around the sword, and with Durandal's loss Xenovia self-confidence seemed to have taken a big hit. With Durandal no longer by her side she seemed to doubt her very value as a Knight, which was perhaps the most foolish thing I have ever heard.

What did a sword mean to someone like me? What value could Durandal possibly hold that I could not replace with but a thought, or easily match and surpass its splendor a hundred times over and more?

Even had the Church gifted me that blade, I would have no idea what to do with it. I was more likely to end up giving it away than anything. So no, unlike the Church it was not the sword that I saw value in but the one who held it.

When I look at a sword, any sword, a copy of its existence would be added to my Reality Marble, along with everything that made it up. And the glimpse I had caught of Durandal during the fight at the school grounds was all I needed for that to happen.

Now in the mindscape that was my soul stood a perfect copy of the sword, and with it came all of the history etched into its blade. I know every drop of blood it spilled, every battle it fought in and every swordsman that held it in their hands. Including Xenovia.

The hours after endless hour she would swing that blade, till her hand bled and calluses formed and harden, and still she would not stop. For year after year she would carry on swinging, spurred on by dreams of chivalry and knighthood born from the childhood stories that her mother told her as she drifted off to sleep, protected within her mother's arms.

It may have been a childish dream that had no place in the modern world, a world where knights only lived in legends and the title of king was synonymous with dictator, but still, it was a pure dream, sincere in a way that only children could make them.

Through the sword I learned of her, knew her in a way few others could. I knew that she would neither waver nor regret anything once she had chosen her course, the she held in her a determination that bordered on bullheaded stubbornness, one that wouldn't be swayed by danger nor reason.

I knew that so long as I did not betray her trust, she would forever be my Knight. And would follow me to the hell itself without regret or hesitation.

Xenovia was someone far more valuable than Durandal, that she would not believe that truth did not make it any less true.

Still it was undeniable that every swordsman needed a sword to call their own, so not long after I had made Xenovia a Devil, I decided it was time to get her a proper blade. Something that would be hers alone. Searching through my memories, I had decided on a dozen blades that suited her style and asked her to choose one among them.

Naturally, I couldn't give her the best among my Noble Phantasms even if I had wanted to. Those were not weapons that could be wielded by anyone, with the exception of myself only their original owners could use them, but that didn't mean I skimped out either. I had a lot of swords and could easily afford to give away some of them, it was not like I couldn't make more, so I found the best blades that she could wield and offered it to her.

So you can understand my surprise when she ended up rejecting them all after barely a cursory glance.

I admit, it hurt me. To see my beloved swords dismissed so easily was surprisingly painful. Now this might just be my Pride speaking, but these weren't the types of swords that you took a single glance at before looking away. No, these were weapons that were worthy of your entire attention and more.

There were swordsmen out there that would give up their sword arm just to wield one of them for a single day, there were Kings that would trade their entire kingdom for the least among their number. I mean sure, they weren't the best that I could make but you do not just dismiss any of my swords like they were nothing damn it!

And perhaps that it was Xenovia out of all people who ended up dismissing them was what really made it sting. I could have shrugged it off if it came from someone like Asia who knew nothing about swords, but for the only other swordsman in my Peerage and a fellow sword enthusiast, who I knew had a good eye for quality steel, to reject them all outright…I got to tell you, it really stung.

But I persevered and kept trying. I took to it as a challenge, one I knew I would win. If there was one thing I had confidence in, other than my cooking, it was the quality of my swords. Given enough time, I had no doubt that I would be able to find one that matched her needs.

I was wrong.

I had summoned swords that could cut through steel like paper, cursed blades that would prevent any injuries inflected by its edge to ever heal, weapons so powerful that it could make the Gods themselves bleed. I conjured a hundred and more, and yet she rejected them all.

Finally, tired, fed up and more than a little hurt, I simply dragged her into my Reality Marble and told her to choose one for herself.

To my surprise, she went and did just that.

She searched for two days.

I did not know why she was so driven, what made her so obsessed with finding one particular sword that she did not even know the name of but for two whole days and nights, with neither pause nor rest, Xenovia walked through the endless fields of swords searching, seeking… something, what I did not know for sure. She either would not or could not tell me.

Had we been back in my old world, I would not have been able to maintain my Reality Marble for any real length of time. Even Archer, a Heroic Spirit, could only maintain it for but a handful of minutes at most. But here, in a world where the Age of Gods has never ended and magic was as thick as the air we breathed, it was child's play. I could hold it for as long as I wished, so long as I could maintain my concentration my Reality Marble would not fall.

Yet even I had my limits, and maintaining the Unlimited Blade Works for two whole days was pushing it, if for physiological reasons rather than magical ones. Devil or not I still needed to sleep and eat. And just as I was about to call Xenovia back and try to convince her to stop for a time, she returned…holding the impossible in her hands.

Not every weapon in my Blade Works could be wielded by anyone. In fact, most of them couldn't. Only a small fraction among their number were weapons that Xenovia could ever learn to wield.

And that sword wasn't one of them.

Yet somehow, she proved me wrong.

It came to life to in her hands, illuminating a rippling light like sunlight reflecting off the water's surface, alive as if it belonged in her hands though I knew its true wielder was long gone. It was in a way a miracle, something that should not have been possible but was.

It was also a traitor's sword; steel stained with the blood of it's comrades and forever tainted by the sins it has been forced to commit.

Out of all of the countless of blades in my Reality Marble, for her to choose that one and be chosen by it in turn…Well, I couldn't help but feel that it was a rather ominous sign for things to come.

A loud ringing echoed throughout the train station, signaling that it was time to depart.

"Well come on," I called out to Xenovia as I walked forward to board the train, "We better get going. This thing has a fixed schedule and will leave with or without us inside it."

I heard footsteps from behind me as Xenovia followed, "I wonder how Hell is like." I glanced back to find Xenovia looking down at her clothing. "If it's as hot as I imagine it to be then I may have overdressed."

"Actually the Underworld is usually pretty chilly." I informed her as I took a step onto the train.

"Ah, that makes sense," She nodded as she bordered the train after me, "It's only natural that Hell has frozen over by now."

---

"I thought you said it was supposed to be noon?" Xenovia asked while she tilted her head upwards to get a better look up at the blacked sky.

"It is noon." I answered as I led the group towards the mansion.

We had managed to make it to the Underworld and through the gates of the Sitri estate without anything going wrong, which was a relief after chaos that occurred on the train ride over here, something that I admit wasn't entirely unexpected when I considered all of the different personalities that were crammed into a single carriage. Though naturally Serafall was still the worse of the lot.

What ever possessed her to try and dress up my Pawns up like the Ninja Turtles I did not know, but most of the train ride was spent with Serafall chasing the terrified Fallen around the carriage with four multicolored ribbons in her hand, a pair of eye holes cut into each of them, as she tried to tie them around their heads. Ilya didn't help either, having woken up from the commotion of the chase and ended up joining in. Ramiel and the others tried their best to get a way but, well…

I spared a glance over my shoulder to where my Pawns trailed after us, no longer bothering to conceal their presence like they usually did. They were slumped over, whether in exhaustion, shame or defeat I could not tell, but they were each sporting a strip of colored cloth wrapped around their faces, right over their eyes. Serafall deemed that Ramiel, as their leader, would wear the blue one while, Shax wore red, Valec purple and Xaphan orange.

Seeing their defeated expression I silently vowed to allow them to remove the ribbons as soon as Serafall got bored with the idea. Until then, they had to deal with it. I wasn't stupid enough to intervene in their behalf, knowing only too well that Serafall could have easily prepared a costume for myself and dragged me into the mess. I knew for a fact that Serafall had a Magical Girl costume tailored for my size hidden somewhere, skirt and all, and there was no way in hell was I going to give her an excuse to use it.

So like any man with survival instincts I decided to sit back and ignore the way my millennia old Fallen Pawns wailed like little girls while an actual 5 foot tall girl chased them around the carriage. Even the greatest heroes knew that there were fights that you simply could not win.

Besides, a small part of me had to admit it was nice being able to tell them apart for once, something that I hadn't had any success in so far though not for a lack of trying. They were all identical with their uniform on and since they I had never seen them take their masks off I had no idea what anyone of them looked, like let alone how tell them apart. Something that I had a feeling they were taking great pleasure from.

"Then why is it so dark," Xenovia still had her face turned upwards, eyes scanning the sky for something, "And where's the sun?"

"On the other side of the world where it belongs." I informed her while we made our way to the mansion. "It's kind of stuck there."

Gremory had already left for home as soon as we exited the train, taking her Peerage with her, staying only long enough to get Issei and her newest Pawn registered and sparing a quick goodbye to Sona. We too left not long afterwards, needing a bit more time as we had more Devils to register, but as soon as that was done we all teleported to the Sitri Estate.

Serafall, Ilya, Asia, Sona along with her Peerage had been sent straight into the mansions, all of them already registered into the primary Bounded Field. Xenovia and my Pawns however were not, which meant they had to take the two hour long trek from the gates to the mansion, with me along to guide them of course. A car had been offered to pick us up but after the train ride I could use the chance to stretch my legs a bit so I declined. Luckily none of use had any luggage to carry, having been sent ahead directly from earth before we even left the station.

Above us a full moon hung in the cloudless night sky, surrounded by countless brightly shining stars. The night sky of the Underworld had a violet hue to it compared to earth's dark blue, and the stars shone far brighter due to a lack of light pollution but other than that and the bigger moon, they were pretty similar to each other.

Xenovia tore her eyes away from the sky to shoot me a perplexed look, her brows furrowing in thought, "…What do you mean it's stuck there? It's a sun, not a balloon caught in the branches of a tree for God's sake-OUCH!." She clutched her temples as a sharp pain assaulted her, before she grimaced and continued walking, "That's still going to take a while to get used to. Anyway, how can a sun get stuck? And if it is stuck, then how can anything survive out here with no sunlight?"

I had wondered that myself when I first came here and it still took me a while to get my head wrapped around the idea.

"From what I understand it the Underworld's axis of rotation is tilted completely sideways compared to earth," Using my hands to demonstrate, "so what would be this planet's North and South Pole would be were earth has it's equator. So, even though the planet spins, only one half it ever sees sunlight. Constantly too, the sun never sets in the northern hemisphere since it's facing the sun, while the southern hemisphere is faced away from the sun so it's always night here."

"As for how we can survive without the sun," I glance out to either side of the road we walked on, where mile after mile of green grass stretched out all around us, as far as the eye could see. Trimmed hedges surrounded the distant mansion up ahead. An orchard, if the ripe fruits dangling off its branches were any indication, grew a fair bit away on our right. It was hard to believe that so much greenery could grow, let alone thrive in a place like this. "Devil's don't need sunlight. This world doesn't need it either."

Save for the light of the stars and what little was reflected off the surface of the moon, it was lightless out here, nearly pitch black. Had I been human I wouldn't have been able to see a thing, not even the nose on my very face, and would have been forced to wander around blindly. But I was no longer human, and my surroundings was as clear to me as if it stood under the light of the noon sun.

The entire Underworld was like this. Dark, empty of street-lights and other sources of illumination. Who would even need them? Devils needed nothing more than the light of a single star to see in the dark, anything more was unnecessary.

It was why the stars shone so brightly here. With no light pollution to compete against, the stars shone with a brilliance that was rarely ever found on earth anymore.

"The Underworld has always been this way, even in the Devil's earliest records and in the memory of the most ancient inhabitants of this world, this place has never known the light of the sun, never felt it's touch. Yet life, as it always does, still found a way to survive. Plants adapted and learned to make do without the sunlight, substituting it with other more bountiful sources, like the magic in the air and ground or the light from the moon and stars."

Devils were a nocturnal race, beings that felt right at home in the darkness of the night. They detested the sun, as even the faintest brush of it's light was enough to tire them, sapping them of their strength. It was only natural that the environment that birthed them reflected their nature.

And it was for that very same reason that the Fallen Race had been able to find a foothold into the Underworld so many millennia ago.

Even before the start of the Great War, long before Devils had discovered a way to breach the Dimensional Gap and reach the human realm, the northern hemisphere had always been devoid of Devils. Why would they want it? Why live in hardship, toiling under the harsh rays of the unabating, unforgiving sun when there was the soothing comfort of eternal night instead. The northern hemisphere was an inhospitable land to the Devil Race, one that only the mad and masochistic among their number would ever wish to live in, and even then never for any length of time.

And it wasn't as if they needed the land, the Devil population was meager compared to humans, even back then. With no oceans in this world, there was an abundance of land for Devils to live in. So much so that expanding their territories to the northern hemisphere was never even considered.

Which was why when the Underworld was invaded by the Fallen they found none willing to oppose them. For when they came in their hordes of millions, and raven wings blotted out the very sky with their numbers, they did not attempt to conquer the densely populated southern half of the Underworld, but the abandoned northern half.

Angels were in many ways the total opposite of Devils, for they were beings created from light. And Fallen, twisted as they had become, were still Angels.

Even after they were stripped of their Holy powers, denied entry to their home and deprived of their Father's favor, Fallen were still creatures born from light and nothing, not even their Fall could have change that. They needed light like humans needed water.

To Devils the northern hemisphere may have been a desolated wasteland, to the Fallen, it was as close to paradise that could be found outside Heaven's gates. So though the Underworld was completely under the Devil's domain at the time, the Fallen met little resistance when they arrived.

Who would oppose them? What Devil would be willing to sacrifice their lives and that of their men to protect a land that no one wanted? To fight as the unsetting sun weakened them with every passing minute, sapping their strength and draining them of their vitality, as all the while it did the opposite to their enemy, revitalizing them and restoring their vigour.

Had the Maous of old tried to gather their forces, they would have been forced to enter a battlefield that favored their enemy, all to fight over a land that they could not use or survive in. So the Maous never even tried to stop them, whether because they could not imagine the Fallen Faction would end up becoming so entrenched in the Underworld or because they could not bring themselves to care about what happened in the north.

And due to those events of long ago, the Underworld was now divided into two. The northern hemisphere became the domain of the Fallen, while the southern hemisphere belonged to the Devils.

Xenovia just started up at the sky then lowered her gaze to look at the surrounding greenery before she looked away and slowly shook her head. "This… is a lot to take in. Nothing is how I expected it to be."

"Let me guess, you imagines a world made entirely of fire and brimstone with rows of unfortunate sinners that were stupid enough to sell their souls lining the road, screaming in agony while their Devil torturers cackled in glee over their misery."

Xenovia thought it over for a moment before slowly nodding and looking away, embarrassed. "When you put it like that it does sound stupid but a part of me was expecting something along those."

"To be fair, what you heard of the Devils aren't entirely inaccurate. There are many Devils like that, far more than I would have liked." I explained to her while waving an arm to indicate our surrounding, "What we are seeing is the Underworld – the planet. It had has been here long before the Devils Race even existed and it has nothing to do with them other than the fact that they happen to live here. Just like how the natural wilderness on earth doesn't represent human nature, the Underworld doesn't reflect the nature of Devils."

I waited a moment, allowing the slightly overwhelmed Xenovia to absorb my words before giving her what I hoped was a sympathetic smile. I remember all to well how it felt like to be in her place, overwhelmed by a new world that was nothing like my old one. "And if you think what you're taking in right now is hard then I'm afraid it's only going to get worse before it gets better. There's is still a lot of things you need to learn about Devils. Hell, there is still a lot of things I still need to learn. That's part of the reason why I brought all of us along on this trip. Watching this year's Young Devil's Gathering should be a good learning experience for us all."

Xenovia had been looking more down as I explained how much harder it was going to be, slumping over a little bit more the more I continued speaking and I could easily picture a small storm cloud over her head, however as soon as I mentioned the Young Devil Gathering she perked up.

As I had quickly come to learn, Xenovia was a swordsman through and through. Though she had a good head on her shoulders she always preferred to talk with the edge of her blade rather than words. And like most swordsmen I had ended up knowing during my life, there was almost nothing she loved more than a good fight. And with her new-found Devil strength she had been itching for a chance to test it herself.

But unlike warriors such as Lancer who seemed to expel bloodlust and barely restrained violence at the prospect of combat, Xenovia instead remind me of a kid in a candy store as her eyes lit up with glee and an excited grin appeared on her face, looking nothing like the veteran swordsman I knew she was.

Though barely a heartbeat later, her excitement seemed to extinguish and her grin fading as she recalled an important detail. "Are you sure we can't participate?"

"Sorry Xenovia but there is no way that's happening." I gave the disappointed girl an apologetic look, "This year's gathering is going to be chaotic enough without adding myself in the mix. What with Sairaorg, Riser and the other Heirs." However after seeing her downtrodden look, I decided to toss her a bone. "Tell you what, though we won't participate in the gathering doesn't mean we can't fight in a Rating Game. I was thinking of setting one up as soon as I collected enough members for my Peerage anyway. So if you want we can fight in one after the gathering is over."

That seemed to perk her right up again and Xenovia gave me an empathetic nod at my proposal. Really, while at first glance Xenovia appeared to be the most level-headed and rational member of my Peerage, under the surface she was as eccentric as the rest of them. At times she seemed to hold herself with a poise of professionalism, exuding an air of total competence. At others however, she reminded me of a naive and overly eager child.

Shaking my head at the antics of my Knights, I turned my mind back to the upcoming Young Devil Gathering and the trouble it would no doubt bring. It was just my luck that my first year as a newly Reincarnated Devil would also be the year that held the most anticipated gathering since the creation of the Rating Game.

The Young Devil's Gathering was a tournament aimed towards the younger generation of Devils, thus the name. It gave young and inexperienced Kings a chance to show off their Peerage by pitting them against equally young and inexperienced opponents. Compared to the other Rating Game tournaments where you could end up facing opponents with centuries of experience, this tournament was designed to give newly created Peerages a chance to face enemies they have a realistic chance of winning against.

The rules for participating in the tournament was simple enough, there were only two prerequisites that candidates needed to meet. The first was that the King of the Peerage must be between the age of twenty-five and eighteen. The second was that while Kings are allowed to have participated in Rating Games before, the first of those games must have occurred less than a year ago and must number no more than nine games. If any of the two rules are broken then the King in question would no longer be eligible to participate.

The rules were designed so that it took into consideration that most Devils do not have a full Peerage by the time they reached their eighteen year. By extending the age limit to twenty five it gave the young Kings more time to gather their Peerage members. I personally think that the reason why the age limit is so large is to teach the younger participants a lesson. The longer you're willing to wait before participating in the Young Devil's Gathering, the larger the advantage you have. While younger and more eager Devils like Sona who join at their first opportunity would be at a disadvantage.

Normally the Young Devil's Gathering was a fairly small scale affair. A small to mid sized tournament at most. Considering the small birthrates of Devils it was understandable that there would be a shortage of young participants.

This year however, The Young Devil's Gathering was an entirely different affair.

Sairaorg was participating.

The Strongest Youth Sairaorg Bael, the most powerful of the newest generation of Devils was going to enter this year's Young Devil's Gathering. Though he was only twenty-one years old Sairaorg is widely acknowledged as the most powerful Devil born in centuries, not since the birth of the current Maous had anyone with as much raw potential as him existed.

He stood head and shoulders above anyone else in the current generation and even from the generation before that. He was so powerful that many speculated that he may one day become a Maou himself.

Sairaorg Bael was a King among his peers, towering above them all, which was why when it became known that he was entering this year's gathering every Devil that was eligible to participate jumped at the chance to join in.

For when a Devil looks upon a King, they do not just see someone to respect, someone to bow down to and obey. They see something more. They look upon the King as he sits upon his throne, with a golden crown gracing his head and jewelled rings dotting his every finger. They see the authority he wields, how other Devils bow and scurry for his favour and think, 'that could be me sitting up on that throne'.

The King known as Sairaorg was entering the fray, where he was vulnerable, and everyone was looking for the chance to topple him from his throne. For that was how the way things worked for Devils.

The current Maous did not inherit their position as the leaders of the Underworld, nor were they elected because they were most qualified for the role. No, they became Maous by slaughtering their predecessors, kicking their still cooling corpses off their throne before taking their place upon it, and placing the bloodstained golden crowns upon their brows.

In the Underworld, you could only become a true King by toppling the old one. And everybody wanted to be King. And in this year's gathering, they saw their chance to take down this generation's King. It was a tiny, minuscule chance but it was there, so the Devils came in droves.

For the first time in history there was over a hundred applicants in the Young Devil's Gathering, almost four times the previous record of thirty two. There was so many that a new rule had to be imposed, limiting the number of participates to only sixty four. A trial was to be held in a couple of days time to weed out the candidates and decide on who would earn the right to participate.

I barely withheld a snort. I personally thought that the entire thing was the height of stupidity. Had there been anyone strong enough to take down Sairaorg then they would have fought him and had it over and done with by now. Any of the participating Devils that thought otherwise were delusional. But I guess hope matched with a grand enough prize always had a way of making fools of us all.

Well, it doesn't really matter to me. For once this would be someone else's mess to deal with. All I had to do was stand by Serafall's side as she presided over the tournament and look pretty as I did so. At worst, the most I had to worry about was making sure Serafall behaved and keep her out of trouble, everything else was someone else's job.

"We're finally here." I was pulled out of my thoughts by Xenovia's cheer. I looked to my left to discover that she had taken a turn down a side path that branched off the main road. "I knew the mansion was going to be huge but this is more than I ever expected. This place is massive Shirou, bigger than most of the cathedrals I've visited."

"Xenovia," I called out to her, causing her to pause and glance back at me over her shoulder, her eyes questioning. "Where do you think you're going?"

She blinked at that before pointing down the road she stood on, at the mansion that laid at it's end, "To the manor of course, where else."

The mansion she was talking about was indeed massive. Three stories high, made from cream colored bricks with a beautiful red-tiled roof. A good two dozen windows lined the wall of the first floor of the mansion alone, and there was an Olympic sized pool not too far in front of the large double doors that was the main entrance to the place. Taking a rough estimate, I would hazard that the mansion held a hundred rooms within it's walls.

Unfortunately, while the place was beautiful it wasn't our destination. I have said before that Devil's were an ostentatious race, showing off their wealth every chance they could, and the Sitri Clan wasn't an exception.

I raised a hand and pointed to the mansion she was walking towards, "Xenovia, that isn't the Sitri Manor. That's the servants' quarters." I then turned and pointed down the main road. "That is the Sitri Manor."

Xenovia turned to look at where I was pointing at, before her jaw dropped as she caught sight of it. The manor that was still a ways off, but even from here it was obvious that the place was much larger than the other mansion, at least five times bigger. Sadly I knew the place was actually bigger than it looked.

Devils, if there ever was a race that was genetically predisposed to show off, it was them.

---

Imagine if you will, what would happen if you combined Santa Claus with a particularly grumpy dwarf. Now hold that image in your mind, dye his hair raven black, give him a pair of round wire glasses before popping a half smoked-cigar into his mouth. If you can picture that then you have a perfect image of what Stheno Sitri looked like, the head of the Sitri Clan and was Serafall and Sona's father.

The man who honestly looked like a stumpy, grumpy Santa Claus, was seated on an expensive high back chair, looking positively tiny in it, as he glared at me with pure loathing and murder in his eyes, while chewing a cigar in his mouth.

I did not know why Stheno hated me, only that he had from the first time we met. He took one look at me and for some reason I couldn't understand then nor since, decided that he detested the very ground I walked on.

But I didn't hold it against him, how can I possibly hate someone that looked so much like a tiny Santa Claus? It was impossible. He even wore suspenders for Christmas's sake. You had no idea how hard it was for me to resist the urge to sit on his lap and ask him for presents, something that I always wanted to do as a child but never had the opportunity to in Fuyuki.

From her place by my side, Serafall's eyes seem to twinkle as she watched me. It was as if she knew exactly what I was thinking. I studiously ignored the subtle way she kept elbowing my sides, her way of egging me on to try it.

Sadly, there was no doubt in my mind that the only reason why I even had the crazy thought in the first place was because of her influence on me, which only seemed to grow with every passing month. I shudder to think what I'd be like a decade from now, and I feared that the future version of myself maybe so far gone that he would actually dare try sitting on Stheno's lap.

"It appears that you have acquired a few new additions to your party during your stay in the human realm." A voice spoke up, drawing my attention away from Stheno to the matching high back chair on his left side, that was currently occupied by a lady dressed up in a woman's business attire. The violet colored eyes that peered through her black framed glasses had once felt so alien to me, but had now become a familiar sight, having seen it on two other faces. Currently those eyes were locked onto the frame of her eldest daughter. "Tell me my child, have you finally came to your senses and decided to expand your Peerage? Or are you still obstinately insisting on remaining with but a single Queen."

Looking at Liliana Sitri, it was obvious that this was where Serafall had gotten her looks from and Sona her personality.

The violet eyes that had been inherited by both of her daughters, adorned a face that would have been a perfect copy of Serafall's if it weren't for the slightly narrower features and the perpetually stern expression she wore. Something I doubt I'd ever see Serafall wearing.

Her inky black hair was pulled back from her face, tied in a low-ponytail that grew down to the small of her back. And unlike her husband, who was squat and round, she was slender and tall, the top of her head reaching just past my shoulder when standing.

Even as she sat on what I knew to be a very comfortable chair, Liliana maintained an air of grace and formality that I had rarely seen anyone pull off anywhere near as well. She had her hands folded over the book on her lap, her back straight but not stiff as she watched over her daughters, somehow managing to give the impression that she was looking down at us from a great height despite being seated.

She was always like this. Whenever I had seen Liliana in the past, she always appeared to be carrying herself in a manner that was equal parts elegance as it was formal. A no nonsense demeanour that instantly alerted everyone in the room that they were expected to be on their best behavior without needed to be told so, but she did it with enough grace that instead of appearing rigid and overbearing, it made her come off as natural.

It was something that I had seen Sona attempt to emulate many times in the past but never could quite pull off. Lillian made it look effortless, as if she put no thought to it than she did breathing, yet while Sona had to work hard for it and still comes out short.

We, as in Serafall, Sona, Tsubaki and me, were currently within the Sitri Manor, inside it's grand library. The air was thick with the distinctive smell of old books, dried ink and dusty pages, a scent that was universal in libraries everywhere.

Row after row of tall five meter shelves, stuffed to the brim with books, scrolls and ancient tomes, stretched out from all around me, lining the walls filling every conceivable scrap of space in the room. At first glance the place looked like a labyrinth, it's tall shelves acting like the walls of a maze, making it all too easy to imagine getting lost within it, yet somehow the members of the Sitri Clan never seemed to have any trouble navigating the place.

I had once spent a solid two hour searching for a book with no luck, then spent another twenty minutes trying to find my way out again, yet it took Serafall only a couple of minutes to find and retrieve the book when I asked for her help.

There was only one part of the library that was free of books, an oasis of space in a place that was otherwise crammed to the brim with them. It was the reading area, a large pocket of open space located on one side of the library, near the entrance. And it was there that we currently stood.

In the middle of the space sat a long wooden table with half a dozen chairs lining on either side, while a fire burned within the large fireplace that was set onto the wall, magically shielded to prevent the fire from spreading. In front of the fireplace was a tiny table, bracketed by two high back leather chairs.

And sitting on those chairs were Serafall's parents, Stheno and Liliana Sitri.

"Mou, Mama~," Serafall stretched the word out while childishly puffing her cheeks out. I could have sworn that I saw Liliana's eyebrow twitch in irritation at the immature title Serafall referred to her by but she hid her reaction so quickly that I wasn't sure if it had happened or if I just imagined the whole thing.

"I already told you, Shi-chan is all I need. So stop trying to make me get more." Serafall punctuated her point by thumping her staff on the ground. "And they are Shi-chan's Peerage not mine."

Stheno took a moment to glance at Serafall, actually managing to crack a tiny smile at his daughter's antics before he immediately went back to glaring at me. I wonder what he would have felt if I told him that his glaring only made me want to reach out and pinch his cheeks? Liliana just sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose while shutting her eyes, a habit that reminded of Sona when she was stressed, or more accurately it was Sona that reminded me of Liliana.

Despite not having seen each other for months, both Stheno and Liliana were acting unusually distant to both of their children, showing no signs of the affection that I knew they held for them. The Sitri was a close family yet you'd never think it looking at them now.

When I and the newest members of my Peerage had finally arrived at the manor a few minutes earlier, the four of us had gathered up to meet the with the heads of the Sitri Clan. Yet when we finally reached Stheno and Liliana, they did not greet Serafall and Sona with the welcoming hugs or kisses you'd expect from parents after a long time apart from their kids. They didn't even bother rising from their seats when we entered the room.

They were behaving less like parents welcoming their children home and more like superiors granting an audience to their subordinates.

And that was because this was exactly what it is, an audience and not a meeting between parent and child.

Even in the human world, the older a civilization becomes the more attached they get to meaningless traditions. And Devil society was old in a scale that human civilization cannot begin to compare to, which meant that they have consequently became extremely attached to their meaninglessly traditions. I still recalled how Sona had insisted in formally requesting my help in training her all those months ago even though no one other than herself would have known or cared if that didn't happen.

Tradition dictates that when returning home after a long leave of absence, a member of a Clan is to greet and report to the head of the house at the first reasonable opportunity. This goes double if they brought along any guests or have new additions to their Peerage.

For the length of their stay, guests fall under the protection of the host, thus making it the Clan's responsibility to keep them safe, so it was only natural that they needed to greet the head of the Household when they enter. And new Peerage member needed their approval before they could be officially added as a member of the Sitri Household, only then could they be registered into the Clan's Bounded Fields and gain access to their resources.

Which was why instead of wrapping their children up in hugs like I knew they wanted to, Stheno and Liliana treated them like they would any other member of the Sitri Clan while Sona stood rigidly in attention before them, with an equally stiff Tsubaki by her side and a step behind, while Serafall was acting...well, like Serafall.

If there was anyone who found the Devils' love of tradition more irritating that I did, it was her. As a Maou and no longer part of the Sitri Clan she was under no obligation to go along with this like Sona did but she knew her parents ate this kind of stuff up, so out of fondness for them she was willing to indulged them a bit and showed a remarkable amount of restraint by not taking her antics to their usual level.

While I knew Stheno and Liliana would end up showering their children with affection later on, in private when all of this nonsense was over and done with, for now they stuck to their tradition and played their roles as the head of their house, even though no one else but family would know if they bent the rules a little and acted like parents.

Then again I was here, so maybe this entire show was partly for my benefit and they would have acted differently had they been alone. I wasn't close enough to either of them to tell for sure.

"Well, that is better than nothing I suppose. At least he's proving to be good for something," Liliana relented while lowering her hand from her face and gazing back into her eldest child's equally violet eyes. "As you are so set against gathering any more Peerage members for yourself, it is only natural that his would have to serve in place of your own. I trust that he has the foresight to select adequately skilled members."

Sona spoke up, saying something in reply but I had already stopped paying any attention at this point so I wasn't sure what. It was pointless trying to involve myself in their conversation even though it was about me and my Peerage, I would only end up being ignored if I tried. Which was fine by me so I just stood silently next to Serafall and began to mentally tune everything out.

Throughout the entire meeting Liliana made a point never to glance in my direction or even acknowledge my existence beyond what was strictly necessary. For all that Liliana was as different to her husband as night was to day, appearance-wise at least, they did share one thing in common; their mutual disapproval of me. It was only their method of expressing said disapproval that differed.

Where Stheno would glare sullenly at me every chance he could, Liliana just pretended I didn't exist. She almost never spoke to me directly, always using anyone who happened to be nearby to deliverer her message, and she never called me by name either, usually referring to me as her daughter's Queen or even boy at times.

Though I did not understand why Serafall's parents disliked me so much, I never let it bother me. A part of me found it rather amusing that beings thousands of years old could act so childlike. And it wasn't as if they mistreated me in anyway, outside of being ignored or glared at they had pretty much left me alone, doing nothing to bother me and even granting me access to the Clan's resources and command over their warriors should I ever need it.

So while I knew whatever was bothering them wasn't bad enough to worry over, it was baffling, especially when you compare their treatment of Ilya to me.

They simply adored Ilya, having taken a shine to her from their very first meeting when she had curtsied and introduced herself with all the demeanour one would expect from someone raised in an aristocratic household such as the Einzbern. I was not sure if it was her because of her manners, her childlike appearance or something else entirely but for whatever reason they made her feel welcome and treated her far better on her first day alone than they ever did to me since, something that I couldn't help but find a little unfair. What was it about me that made them hate me so much?

As it was, I had learned to simply ignore them and overall it seemed to be a pretty effective solution to the problem. Well, other than the urge to glomp Stheno that kept cropping up whenever the little Santa glared at me.

"I'm sure you're still tired from your trip and our new guests are likely to need your help settling in, so I won't keep you here any longer." Liliana nodded towards the door, her dismissal drawing me from my mental wandering. "Be sure to let them know that they should not hesitate to ask the servants for help should they find their accommodation lacking."

Sona, knowing she had been dismissed, obediently bowed and began making her way to the door with Tsubaki mimicking her actions. Serafall however did no such thing. Instead of following her younger sibling's lead she, to no one's surprise, ignored protocol completely and pranced over to her mother and wrapped her arms around her, giving her a huge bear of a hug, partly lifting her off from her seat as she did so.

Had it not been such an unladylike behavior, I was sure Liliana would have rolled her eyes from where she dangled in her daughter's arms, but instead she sighed and reluctantly allowed herself to return the hug, knowing her daughter well enough by now to realize that she would continue clinging onto her like a limpet until she did.

A beat later Serafall released her mother and pranced over to her father who, seeing her approach, smiled and lowered his head, allowing Serafall to plant a kiss on his brow. Though he immediately returned back to glaring at me again as soon as Serafall pranced away.

And that was the end of the meeting. Once we were done here, I knew that Stheno and Liliana would find a way to meet up with their children later in the day and give them a proper reunion then. I, on the other hand, needed to hurry to Xenovia and my Fallen-Pawns and help show them around before they got into any trouble. I had left them under the care of Asia and Ilya, and it didn't take a genius to realize that was a potential disaster waiting to happen if they were left unsupervised for long. So with that in mind, I silently followed after my King as she made her way out the library. I was just glad we got this meeting over and done with so quickly.

But it seemed that I spoke too soon because we had barely made it halfway to the door when Liliana called out.

"Serafall dear," We turned to find that Liliana had returned to reading her book, holding it up to her face with one hand, while in the other she held out an empty glass toward us. "I seem to be out of water. Would you be a dear and refill my glass for me?"

Serafall looked from the glass her mother to the pitcher filled with water on the tiny table between her parents, well within arm's reach of both for them, before she shrugged and chirped, "Sure." quickly making her way to towards the table.

But again, just as she had begun to reach out and pick up the pitcher, she was interrupted by Liliana.

"No, not from there." Serafall turned to look at her mother in confusion only to find Liliana staring back at her, book abandoned on her lap. She held up the empty glass towards her daughter, her eyes intense and unblinking. "I'm afraid it has gotten rather warm. Conjure me some fresh water instead, a single glass full would do. It should be a simple enough task."

Immediately I knew something was wrong.

Serafall, the ever cheerful fun loving full-of-life Serafall, who seemed to always have a smile on her face, mischievous or otherwise, looked like she had been slapped. Her face drained from colour as she staggered a step backwards, staring at the woman who birthed her as if she didn't recognize her. I had never seen Serafall look so genuinely startled as she did now.

Sona looked as if she too had been caught off guard at the request, her jaw dropping slightly and her frames slipping down her nose while she stared at her mother in shock. Even Stheno blinked twice in surprise and suspended his glaring in favour of giving his wife a questioning look. But he must have understood something because he soon turned to watch Serafall with would I could have only describe as a look of anticipation on his face.

The atmosphere in the room which has so far been relaxed and relatively laid-back despite the formality, quickly become strained. The once cozy library became thick with tension, and for the life of me I had no idea why.

What was the big deal about conjuring some water?

"Mother, allow me to-" Sona began, taking a step forward towards her mother, only to be halted before she could take a second.

"Be silent Sona!" Liliana barked out harshly, her voice sounding unusually loud in the silent library for how rarely she ever raised it, her eyes never looked away from the still shell-shocked Serafall, "I was asking your sister, not you. Now," Liliana once again held out the empty glass towards her eldest daughter. "Would you be so kind as to fill the glass?"

Though she phrased it as a question, everyone knew she wasn't asking.

Serafall always – always – carried some kind of expression on her face. She was the type who wore her heart on her sleeve, you only needed to glance at her to tell what she was feeling. And over the past year, I had thought I had seen it all. I had seen her laugh in pure happiness, smirk mischievously as she set someone up for a prank. On the rare occasion I had even seen the glimmer of cunning in her eyes, confirming what I already knew, that behind her goofy personality lied a very keen mind.

And in those rare private moments that she showed to no one else but me, I had seen her worried. Her face scrunched up with anxiety as she bared to me some of her greatest fears, over her sister's safety, over family, and even over me.

Before today, I thought I had seen all there was to see. But I was wrong.

I had never seen Serafall look scared before.

Serafall stared blankly at her mother, her face so devoid of feeling that it was startling. It was a face that was so un-Serafall that I scarcely could recognize her. Blank, so stripped of emotion, so...empty that I scarcely recognized her. It frightened me.

Her mother stared back, her eyes cold, hard and unflinching, holding the empty glass between them.

What the hell was happening?

Unlike most of the occupants in the room I was bewildered. I had no idea what was going on or even why everyone was overreacting over such a simple request. Conjuring water was elementary magic, something that even the most incompetent of Devils could cast. If it was only a glass full then there were even kindergarten aged Devils that could do it.

It was such a simple spell that someone as untalented with general magic like myself could do it, hell even Xenovia had cast it just a few weeks earlier when Asia had begun teaching her how to use her magic. She had even gotten it on her very first try. It was that easy.

And for Serafall, it was even easier. She was a Sitri by blood, a Clan whose entire magic specialized in water. The Sitri Clan earned their position as one of the 72 pillars because of their water affinity. Their affinity was so powerful that it granted them the potential to create enough water to flood entire city blocks in less time than it would take me to blink, and at a fraction of the cost in Mana it should have.

And yet they were acting as if they had given Serafall, the most powerful female Devil of her time, an impossible task by asking her to conjure a little bit of water.

Again, what the hell is going on?

Why was everyone acting like this? Well not everyone, I quickly corrected myself, it looked like Tsubaki was just as confused as I was. Her eyes were dancing around the room as she tried to piece things together without bring attention to herself, and when she caught my questioning look she gave me a tiny almost imperceivable shrug, telling me that she had no better idea of what was happening than I did.

In the time it took me to realize all of this, Serafall had finally began to move. It wasn't much but some colour seemed to return to her cheeks and she managed to drag her eyes away from her mother and down to the empty glass held out to her.

Time passed. A minute, then two, in which no one moved as we all watched Serafall as she in turn stared at the glass.

Then, just as I had decided enough was enough and was about to step in and put an end this nonsense, I heard her.

"...Alright." The word that drifted from Serafall's lips was more whispered than spoken.

She picked up her staff, the one with tipped with a golden star, and held the point towards the glass. Her tongue peeking out as she licked her dried lips before she shut her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she slowly exhaled and allowed her magic to gather. And I sensed it.

Serafall had only drawn a small amount of her Mana, a metaphoric drop in the ocean compared to what she could really do, she needed nothing more for the spell but just by pulling on her magic supply she had ended up sending a ripple through it, one that every Devil in the room had sensed. Once again I realized the ridiculous amount of raw power Serafall held in her tiny body, completely dwarfing that of my own.

She then proceeded to channel the Mana she gathered up her staff, taking far more care than a spell of this level would have required. I had seen Serafall blast a hole through a solid wall just by glaring at it, turn an entire lake to ice in a heartbeat before summoning a pair of skates with a flick of a single finger, but her she was, taking more time conjuring some water than she did with all of the above while ever other Devil in the room watched with bated breath.

In Sona's case she was literally holding her breath, biting her lips as she watched the staff hover over the empty glass and even Stheno sat unmoving as he observed the event. Only Liliana wasn't looking at the glass, instead she watched Serafall, observing her face carefully.

Then the spell was complete.

Nothing happened at first, and for one heart stopping moment I thought that Serafall had somehow bundled the simple spell, but then the water came. It hovered in the air, just a few inches away from the tip of her staff. Nothing more than a tiny sphere of water, the size of a rain drop, but it soon grew. Swirling in place it expanded, swelling into the size of a marble and then into tennis ball before, like an open faucet, water began spilling from the bottom of the sphere and into the glass beneath it.

Sona released a short baffled laugh, quickly covering her mouth with both her hands, as she watch happily with wide eyes shining with tears as the simple spell took effect. Even Stheno could not contain his happiness, letting out a whoop of joy and clapped his hand once as he leaned back into his chair, a large smile threatening to split his face in two. He was even nodding happily as he turned towards me before he froze a few seconds later when he remembered he was supposed to hate me, and hastily replaced his smile with a scowl.

Liliana, while more subdued in expressing her reaction did not mean she was any less happy than the rest of her family. She a had a tiny, satisfied smile as she pulled the glass away and held it before her face, it was nothing more than a slight upward tilt to the edge of her lips, but for the usually stoic woman it may have been the happiest I had ever seen her.

"Yes," She nodded once, her eyes carefully observing the blue water before she turned to face her eldest, who was now wearing self-satisfied and cocky grin on her face, all her earlier fears gone as if it were never there. "That will do. Well done."

Then Lady Sitri, the mother of my King, a person who had never deigned to talk to me and barely acknowledged my existence, turned to look straight at me with that tiny little smiled still in place and gave me a nod that was almost...grateful?

"Very well done indeed." She repeated, eyes very clearly on me. I don't think I had ever been more baffled by anything in my life.

But before I could begin putting any coherent thoughts together I was almost yanked off my feet as Serafall latched onto my arm and began dragging me out of the Library.

"Well, if you don't need anything else Mama I'll be going. I still haven't finished playing with Shi-chan's new Pawns and want to get a head start before it gets too late."

Liliana for once didn't seem bothered by the childish name her daughter called to her by, too busy gazing at the glass of water she was still holding before her face to bother, as if it had entrapped her somehow. "Yes, that's all. Be sure to drop by later on tonight dear."

"I will." Serafall promised and pulled me out of the Library. Sona and Tsubaki trailed after us, the latter made sure to close the door shut behind us.

As Serafall continued to drag me down the hall and back to the guest quarters where we were staying, I left feeling lost, disorientated and with no idea what had just happened. But there was something I was absolutely certain about.

Though I had no idea precisely what it was, something very important had occurred back in that room.

---

The doors closed shut behind the children, leaving her alone with her husband. Still she waited for the muffled footsteps to disappear entirely and waited a few seconds more to make sure they were out of hearing range before Liliana finally dropped her mask and permitted herself to laugh.

She fell back into her chair and kicked her feet into the air in joy as she released a stream of laughter, something so out of character for her that, other than her husband, it would have shocked everyone that knew her. Even her children would have been stunned to see her behave as she did now.

"She did it. After two hundred years she finally did it." She managed to breathe out when her laughter began to tickle down. She raised the glass before her eyes, cradling it in both of her hands as she watched the water with a rare expression of pleasure, "I waited for so long to see that child cast a water spell once again, that I had almost ended up giving up hope."

She twirled the glass between her hands, the light refracted through the water and fell on her face, "But I have finally gotten to see it again. Seems like our gamble has paid off." Though she had little hope of it working, for her daughter's sake she was willing to put up with much. And in the end it had all been worth it.

All the years of waiting, hoping, and planning – only to result in failure followed by seemingly endless failure. All the days of staving off the despair that threatened to overwhelm them – all of it has been worth it.

Because at last, her daughter was finally returned to her.

Liliana smile dimmed a little as she remembered the one responsible for her return, and she had to fight off the urge to grimace in distaste, "Though I do wish she hadn't chosen the human boy."

Had it not been for that one particular fact, her happiness would be complete. Why couldn't she have fallen for a proper Devil instead like a normal person would have? Even a low class Devil would have been fine, but no, her daughter had to fall for a human. Again. She always seemed to have a fondness for that race.

It wasn't as if Liliana hated humans, oh no, nothing of the sort. Humans had their uses she admitted, and she could even understand why her daughter admired their kind. She was even willing to acknowledge that humans held certain traits that plenty of Devils would be better off learning from them.

Their ability to survive and persevere through hardships though they were so very fragile, the sheer amount of things that they could accomplish, the things they could build and create in their tiny insignificant lifespans was astonishing. Those things alone made them worthy of some measure of her respect. She was even willing to look at some of the more talented among their numbers as her equal.

No humans were not a race to be looked down upon.

But that didn't mean she ever wanted her daughter to date one, or ancestor's forbid, marry one. She could easily imagine every generation of Sitri Head from her mother to their founder roll in their graves at the thought. Can you imagine it, the eldest child and heir of the Clan marrying a human? Never, that would have never been allowed to happen. Neither in the Sitri nor any of the 72 Pillars.

No child ever produced from a union of Devil and Man had ever been able to fulfill the potential of their bloodline. Instead of being gifted with the strength of both races, they were cursed instead with the weakness of the two. And worst of all, they never inherited the true power of their heritage.

The Bael's Power of Destruction, the Phenex immortal flames, or any of the powers of the 72 pillars can never be inherited by mankind. No human, half-breed or otherwise, shall ever be able to wield the power of the 72 Pillars. That power belongs to Devils, and Devils alone.

The 72 Pillars, Clans who owed their entire position in society on the power of their bloodline, could not allow themselves to be led by one without their Clan's famed ability. Only those that had been gifted with the power of their bloodline have the right to become the head of their Clan. There are no exceptions. Ever.

Any child born without that power shall never be allowed to lead the Clan, dooming those with the blood of two races to never inherit anything from their parents. Even those embodied with the Evil Pieces could not completely mask the effect of their human bloodline.

Had Serafall still been her Heir, she would have been forced to prevent any permanent relationship from blooming between her and her Queen. Her ancestors would never have forgiven her if she had stood back and allowed her bloodline to end with her daughter's generation.

Fortunately Serafall was no longer her heir. To think she would ever be happy about that fact. When Liliana had first learned that her first born will never succeed her she had been devastated, but today she can admit it was a fortuitous event, otherwise she would have been forced into a position where she had to choose between her daughter's happiness and her duty as a Sitri.

"Who cares if the brat is human?" Liliana turned to look at her husband, to find him glaring at the door with his arms crossed, having put out his cigar at some point. "I only wish she hadn't chosen such an uncultured swine. Can you believe that the brat didn't have the decency to ask if he could court my little girl. The nerve of the boy, nothing but a little punk."

Liliana resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her husband. The man had always been far too overprotective of their children. Both of her daughters had him wrapped around their little fingers and he was only too happy about it. He would have done anything they told him if they worded it properly. It was precisely for this very reason why she had to be so strict with them, if she didn't Stheno would have spoiled them both rotten before they had even learned to walk.

"I don't think the 'little punk' as you are so fond of calling him has decided if he is even interested in our daughter, let alone courting her." Liliana informed her husband as she took a sip from the water, enjoying the nostalgia of the taste.

"And what precisely is there about my Sera that's not to love?" Stheno asked crossly as he turned to face his wife. "It's her that's too good for him. Snot-nosed brat, think he's better than my little girl. The only reason why I haven't beaten the crap out of the punk is because Sera would never forgive me if I did."

Liliana was far too cultured to snort at that but the urge was certainly there. "Dear," setting the glass down on the table. "We both know that the real reason why you haven't tried anything has less to do with our daughter's wrath and more to do with him being strong enough to end you if you tried."

The broken hearted look of betrayal her husband sent her reminded her so much of a puppy that she had to laugh.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, even more put out by his wife's laughter, "The punk was afraid enough of me when we first met."

Liliana didn't have the heart to break it to Stheno that the wide eye and slack jawed look the boy sent her husband had nothing to do with fear. She still remembered how he kept mouthing the words 'Santa Claus' over and over again to himself.

It took every ounce of control she had to keep a straight face during that meeting.

Even after all of their centuries of marriage, Liliana never did find the perfect opportunity to tell her husband that most people saw him less as a terrifying warrior and more like a particularly grumpy puppy. That wasn't to say her husband wasn't powerful, on the battlefield he was something that most Devils would be wise to fear. It was a shame that he just didn't look the part. Not that Liliana minded of course, she always did have a thing for the small and cuddly.

"Of course he was dear," Liliana lied through her teeth to sooth her husband's ego, "He was clearly terrified of you."

Stheno nodded, satisfied at her words. His eyes then caught sight of the glass of water that was the source of their joy, and smiled. "Still, isn't that something...two hundred years huh?" Stheno turned to look towards the long table that sat in the middle of the reading area. "It's been a while."

"That it has," Liliana agreed as she too looked towards the table, "a very long while indeed." Far too long, even for a race as long lived as hers.

"Who would have thought that those two meeting all those years ago would have ended up changing things so much?"

"Not I." Liliana freely admitted, a fond smile drifted onto her face. "Then again, that girl always did have a way about her, always defying expectations."

Her daughter had always been a serious child, far more than even she had ever been. Attentive, obedient and committed to fulfilling her duty along with a talent in magic she had never seen from one so young. She was as perfect an heir as she could have ever asked for.

She just wasn't a happy one.

Not from a lack of trying. When Liliana realized how… empty her daughter was, she had tried everything she could think of that might have helped. She became more open with her affection, showering her with love, granting her every wish and gave her everything a child her age could ask for. Nothing worked. There was something missing in her daughter, something crucial and nothing she tried seemed to be able to fill it.

Then she met her,

And everything changed.

She was just like a storm, blowing into their lives and changing everything. Just by meeting each other, only one single conversation and already she could see something changing in her daughter. She was became just a tiny bit happier, and there was a little more life in her actions. In a single meeting she had managed to worm her way into her daughter's heart and drew her out of her shell like nobody else could, not even herself.

Needless to say that she had taken every opportunity after that to keep those two in each other's company. And she never regretted her decision. Seemingly overnight her daughter began to change. She laughed, her almost never seen smiles had become a common sight. She would even crack jokes on occasion, all because she had met her.

Her daughter was happy. For that, she would forever be grateful to that girl.

She had become her daughter's lover, and soon after her Queen. Back then the Evil Pieces did not exist as they did now. Their predecessors even went under a different name – the King's Peerage she believe it was called. But the position of Queen held as much significance back then as it did today.

Truly, she was like a storm.

Then she was taken away.

Liliana's features twisted into a hate filled sneer. Even after all of the centuries, her hatred hasn't abated in the slightest. It burned in the pits of her stomach just as fiercely as it did when she had seen the broken shell her daughter had become.

That war, that meaningless accursed war had taken so much from her. From them all. It had stolen her eldest sister from her, the one who was originally supposed to become the Sitri Heir, along with both of her younger brothers. Though they had fought on the opposite side it had also taken away her parents, something that had hurt as much the loss of her siblings.

So much was lost in that war. More than even the Great War. It had taken so much from her.

But above all, it had taken away her first born.

Two hundred years ago, on that accursed day, near the end of that thrice forsaken war, her daughter had shattered to pieces. Her lover, who was her storm, her Queen and along with every last member of her Peerage had been slaughtered in a single battle. Only Serafall had survived, every other Devil from either sides perished, leaving her daughter alone in a field of corpses.

Alive, though far from unscathed.

Her daughter had always been too pure, to innocent. When she commits to something she puts everything of herself into it, too much so. When she hates someone she hates them with every drop of malice in her being, and when she loves someone she does so with the entirety of her heart and soul, holding nothing of herself back.

Then she watched almost everything she had ever loved die.

Her daughter had become empty once again, reverting to how she had been but even worse. She was nothing more than a walking corpse, an empty soulless husk of a living being. She had shut herself out and become cold, hard and uncaring.

And it was reflected in her magic.

Magic was more than just energy that Devils could wield, more than just a power. Devils were beings of magic, and such it was as much as part of themselves as their very souls were. Magic came from the mind and soul, reflecting their true nature in a way nothing else did. And so when Serafall's heart had frozen over, when her daughter had become cold, harsh and unforgiving, that nature was reflected in her magic.

Ice.

All that came out of her was Ice.

These day the name Serafall Leviathan is synonymous with ice magic. Her mastery over ice was unrivaled and has been spoken highly about since the day she took on the position of Leviathan. But what most of the younger generation do not know was before that, she had been renowned as a master at water magic. And even fewer knew the truth, that the true reason why she had switched from water to ice was not a voluntary choice.

The once beautiful azure blue water of her daughter's magic, the pride of the Sitri Clan, had turned into cold and unforgiving ice. Whether it was a thimble full or the size of a lake, whenever she tried to summon water she called forth frozen ice instead. Her daughter had lost her Clan's ability to create water.

She had never regained her magic since.

Serafall had lost her magic, her lover and her Peerage in a single day. And as if that were not enough, she had also lost the right to lead the Sitri Clan.

A Devil who cannot cast their family's magic is a cripple – a disgrace. Without the ability to wield our Clan's water magic Serafall was no longer qualified to become the Clan Head, no matter how talented she may be otherwise, and thus could no longer remain as the Sitri Heir. Had she not chosen to become a Maou and removed herself from the Clan, thus abdicating her position as Heir, Liliana would have been forced to do it for her.

And she knew it.

We never needed to tell her anything, she knew that her inability to create water meant that in the eye of the laws governing the 72 Pillars, she was no longer considered a true Sitri. So she left the Clan without any hesitation, without being prompted.

What had truly broken her heart was that as far gone as her daughter had been back then, Liliana didn't think Serafall even cared.

Liliana had lost her daughter on that day, and there was nothing that she could do to bring her back.

When Sona had somehow managed to make her way through the wall Serafall erected about herself a decade earlier, Liliana had dared to hope that perhaps Sona had managed to bring her sister back. That her Serafall had returned. But no, that was nothing but a fool's hope.

Though she smiled and laughed again, though she regained some color and tried to live her life again, she was still not whole. Just a copy of what she had once been. It was as if she wanted to live again but couldn't figure out how to go about it, so all she did was mimic how she used to behave, without any of the fire behind her actions. And that was why she could not conjure any water.

Her soul was still frozen, heart still cold.

She had thought, that was it. Her daughter was truly lost, and only this fragmented piece of what she had been was her all she'd ever have left.

Then one day, without any warning, after centuries of refusing to even consider creating a new Peerage, her daughter had arrived on her doorstep dragging her new Queen behind her.

That had been almost a year ago, and today her daughter had summoned water again.

After two hundred years, her daughter had finally returned.

"Yes," Liliana repeated to herself while her eyes lingered over the table, the place where their tale had begun all those years ago. "It has been far too long."

The ancient doors groaned as they were pushed open, their noise disturbing the otherwise silent library, followed by the sound of boots on hard wood as someone strolled in, not bothering to close the doors behind them.

The original and previously sole occupant of the room did not bother looking up from where they sat reading at the long table,disregarding the sound of the intruder. They simply flipped the page of the large tome that sat upon their lap over and continued reading, their violet eyes scanning through the line of the page efficiently.

The reader was but a child, a tiny wisp of a thing. Their head barely reached over the top of the table and tomb they read from, large even in an adult's hands, was massive in their lap, dwarfing the child. Yet the child did not seem to mind, as they continued to calmly devour the words off the page, their expression unusually blank in contrast to the single mindedness they read with.

From top to bottom, the young child was almost entirely wrapped up with the color black. From their wing-tipped shoes, to their creaseless black slacks to the black waistcoat they wore over a neatly white buttoned-up shirt where the child had a dark long string tie wrapped around their throats. Even their hair, cut short in a bob-cut style and neatly combed, was raven black. The only splash of color was the violet of their eyes, a trait they had inherited from their mother, and the paleness of their skin.

"Well, aren't you the gloomy one?" A chipper voice called out, sounding completely out of place in the solemn atmosphere of the ancient library

The child glanced up to find themselves staring into a pair of vivid blue eyes, twinkling with hidden mischief and amusement, that impression was further reinforced by the large Cheshire grin beneath them. The eyes were set on the face of another child, one around the same age as the first though otherwise was completely different.

Her bright blond hair tumbled down her head to her shoulders in a tangle mess while her skin was a rich healthy pink. Unlike the simple monotone black and white the first child wore, this one was a rainbow of colors in comparison.

She wore an untied bright forest green robe with golden embroidery stitched into, while underneath it was a blue colored tunic dotted with dozens of white stars. Her dark brown pants led down to the well-worn deerskin boots she wore on her feet.

On top of her head was a wide brimmed witch's hat, the top flopping over slightly. And finally in her hand she held a long wooden staff, that was tipped by what appeared to be a badly carved five pointed star.

"What's with the clothes?" The young witch asked and reached out to tug at the first child's string tie, still squatting down at the table.

The child tilted their head ever so slightly, watching the witch with dull eyes, "...And what precisely is wrong with my clothes?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing." The witch held her hand up in a placating manner, though the mischievous grin she was sporting contrasted with her words. "It's just boring as hell that's all. Where are the colors? Did you just come back from a funeral or did you bore all the colors around you so badly that they decided to commit suicide?"

"Neither assumptions are correct," The child answered, either not understanding the witch had been joking or not caring. "All of my clothing is this color. What point is there in bothering with multiple colors when simple black and white would suffice."

The witch actually looked offended. "What's the point in color? What kind of a question is that?" The witch leapt to her feet and took a grandiose pose, one hand on her hip while the other pointed her staff at the child. "Color is life. All of reality would become dull, bland and entirely pointless without it."

"That is where you're wrong," The child countered, their voice holding not a speck of the passion the witch did, "Should color disappear nothing would change. Color is merely a meaningless part of existence, it holds no value other than the superficial, no substance or gain. I see no meaning in it, and it is illogical for you to place value in what doesn't have any." Then the child looked back down at the book on their lap, dismissing the witch. "Now if you'll excuse me I'd like to return to my reading."

"...You really are the gloomy type ain't ya?" The witch frowned down at the child, before her grin returned and she shrugged. "Ah well, it takes all kinds I guess."

The witch began to walk to the middle of the table before slowly spinning in place, her eyes scanning the library. "Hey, have you seen the boss's daughter anywhere? I heard she was in here so I dropped by to say hi."

"Boss? Are you by chance referring to Liliana Sitri?" The child asked, not bothering to look up or pause in their reading.

"Yup, that's the boss alright. I'm looking for her sweet and precious little girl, I heard she was supposed to be some kind of prodigy. I love messing around with those kinds. They always seem to carry some kind of big stick up their ass, and there is nothing funnier than watching their faces as I pull it out and whack them over the head with it." the witch snickered at the thought, "So where is she?"

The child briefly considered lying before discarding the option. It was meaningless to delay the inevitable and the witch was bound to find out the truth eventually. So the child flipped over another page and answered. "You are speaking with her."

"What!" The witch spun around so fast that she almost fell over. Pinwheeling her arms for a moment as she tried and eventually succeeded in regaining her balance before she hurried over to the child and squatted so their faces were almost level again. "You're the Sitri Heir? But that's impossible, she's supposed to be a girl."

"I assure you not only is my position as heir very much possible but I am in fact a girl."

"Nah-ah, no way, not possible. There is no way you're a...girl?" During the middle of her denials, the witch's hands had shot forward and latched onto the Sitri Heir's chest, no doubt trying to prove that the child was male, only for her words to trail off as her hands met two small but soft orbs that were unmistakably breasts.

The witch gaped into the Sitri's face who in turn looked up from her reading and looked back at her with a deadpan expression. "By my father's nonexistent hair, you really are a girl!"

"Yes, I believe I had already established that." Then the Sitri returned to her reading, unconcerned by the hands that haven't detached themselves from her chest.

The witch stared disbelievingly at the chest she was holding, before her hand squeezed as she groped the other girl's breasts. Then she groped again, and again before her head slump over in defeat.

"...I lost," The downtrodden witch announced. "You're shorter than me but yours is already bigger than mine." The entire time she spoke her hands remained attached to the other girl's chest…nor did they stop their groping.

For the next minute or so the library was silent as the Sitri continued reading, apparently unconcerned by the witch's unceasing groping of her breasts.

The witch finally looked up, and shot the other girl a perplexed look even as her hands continued their fondling. "Aren't you going to scream? *grope* *grope* Or even slap me?" The blond tilted her head curiously. "That's the usual response I get whenever I do this."

"No." The Sitri calmly flipped over a page before continuing. "While inappropriate I don't believe your actions warrant neither yelling nor slapping." Then the young Devil returned to her reading.

"Oh come one. Not even one little itty bitty scream? I'll even settle for an adorable 'eep'." The witch gave the Sitri an imploring look before frowning when she didn't receive a reply. "Damn, you're no fun. Half the point of groping pretty girls is to see their reaction. How am I supposed to properly enjoy feeling you up if you don't react?" Despite her words, the young witch hadn't stopped her groping.

"If you find your actions so unappealing then you're free to stop." The Devil told her, clearly unconcerned either way.

"No," The blond replied almost sullenly. "Your reactions are boring but your breasts still feel really nice."

The witch's eyes widen a heartbeat later when a thought hit her. "Wait, did I just sexually harass the boss's daughter on my first day on the job?" She started blankly ahead in shock, her hands freezing in place, before she tossed her head back and laugh and resumed her fondling. "Hahahaha, holy shit I'm awesome. My master is going to kill me when she finds out. Hahahaha."

"Master?" The Sitri looked up to the witch. "Who is your master?"

"Morgan Le Fay, older than dirt and the scariest thing born without testicles in the history of mankind." The witch boasted with a smile, "She's the Sitri family new contracted Magician and I'm her most wonderful apprentice."

"I see." The Heir responded dully before looking back down to her book.

The witch looked at the Devil that kept ignoring her before she pulled her hands away and crossed her arms, looking away with a dissatisfied look. "Tsk, I changed my mind, there is no point messing with you anymore."

"May I asked what brought about this change of heart?" Though the little Devil was the one who asked, she seemed to hold no real interest in the answer.

"Isn't it obvious?" The blond reached out and gripped the Sitri's chin before she forced it up so they ended up looking into each others eyes. "It's because you look so sad."

"Sad?" For the first time since the start of the conversation, the Sitri Heir's voice held some measure of heat as she frowned at the witch before her. "I assure you I'm not in anyway sad."

"Trust me brat," The witch rose to her feet and smirked down at the other girl, "From where I'm standing you looks so darn sad it's almost painful to watch." Seeing the dissatisfied look she was receiving, the witch's smirk just grew. "If that wasn't the case then tell me, why aren't you smiling?"

"That's because I have nothing to smile about." The Sitri answered promptly.

"And that's exactly what makes it sad." The blond explained while pointing her staff at her before she threw it over her shoulder and dropped down as she crossed her legs. "You don't need a reason to smile. You don't a reason to be happy. If you sit down and wait for a reason to smile than you'd spend most of your life just waiting."

"A contradiction." The Devil shook her head, "People smile when they are happy, ergo they need to be happy to smile. This is fact, and what you're proposing is going against this established fact."

"Ah," The witch reach out to flick the other girl on the nose, causing it to crinkle in displeasure. "That's where you're wrong. You don't smile because you're happy, it's the opposite, you smile to become happy."

The taller girl pushed herself back up to her feet and began pacing around the table.

"Life you see, is a game." She began to lecture, while she held her arms outstretched from her sides as if she was walking a tightrope. "And the ones who win this game are not the ones who earn the most money or gain the most power. Those guys are playing it all wrong, and taking life too seriously. Life is already far too serious to take seriously." The witch turned when she reached the end of the table and began walking to the other end. "No, the winner is the one who laughs the most. The people who have the grandest of times before they meet their end, they are the real winners."

"That's why you must laugh, why you must smile." The witch proceeded to do just that, shooting the watching Devil a wide beaming smile. "Even if you don't have a reason to, then just make one up. Think up a joke, play a prank or just smile for no damn reason. That's how you gain a happy enough reason to laugh, you make yourself happy. You don't wait for a reason to be happy, you make the reason up. Smile more than anyone, laugh louder than anyone – that's how anyone can win. Even a little no name orphan like me."

"You're an orphan?" For some reason that surprised the Sitri.

"Yup," The witch shot her a cheerful smile as she crossed her legs and sat down again across from her on the table. "Going on six years now. The Witch Hunt is not solely reserved for witches but their families too." The blond looked up to the ceiling "Man, six years. It's really been a while. Back then I used to cry a lot, and I mean all the damn time. All I would do is cry, cry and cry." She rubbed the back of her head while shooting the Devil an embarrassed smile.

"...then why did you stop?" The Sitri asked with genuine curiosity while she carefully observed the other girl.

A shrug was her response, "Meh, I got tired of it." the witch took a deep breath and rubbed the back of her neck, "Crying is no fun, and you won't think it but it's so damn tiring. I was exhausted all the damn time then. But here's the thing, I didn't know how to stop. I had no idea how to simply stop feeling so sad, how to end to pain. But lucky I had my Master with me, the greatest darn witch in the whole universe. She was also more than a little but nutty, but all the great ones are. Anyway, I went to my wonderful Master and asked her if she had a spell to make me happy. Do you know what she answered."

"To my knowledge, there exists no such spell to make one happy." the Sitri answered, book forgotten as she was drawn into the other girl's story.

"That's right." The witch exclaimed and slammed her palms on the table. She pointed at the Devil. "That's exactly right, it doesn't exist. I asked my master if there was a magic to make someone happy and she said there was no such thing. And when I asked her why, when magic could do anything why couldn't it make a little girl like me happy. She told me this; child, the only person who can decided you're happy is yourself. If you believe you're sad then all the magic in the world won't change that. However if you believe you're happy, then not even a witch as great as me can make you think otherwise."

The witch, the ever smiling mischievous witch, dropped her smile and gave the young Devil a sad heartbroken look that in a better world shouldn't even belong on a face as young as hers. "I...I didn't want to sad anymore. I had spend so long being sad I gotten sick and tired of it. I just wanted to be happy, even if only a little. So...I decided to be happy."

Again she smiled at the Devil, this time it was a tired one but honest in a way the young Devil could not understand. "I realized that the only reason I was unhappy was because of myself. It's like how a boring person has a boring life. It's not life itself that's boring but the person who makes it so by the way they decided to live. Boring people simply are boring like that. I was just like that, miserable because I decided to live that way."

The Witch shot her a sharp grin, a more baring of her teeth than a smile. "Well, screw that. This is my life, there is no way I'm going to allow anyone to make it miserable, even if, no, especially if that person happen to be me. It wasn't easy, but I did it. You don't wait for you're own happiness, you make it happen. A little everyday, with every action you take. And I became happy. I learned to laugh every day, smile at every tiny wonder in this world and enjoy all of life's little miracles."

"And that is why I – AHHHH." In the middle of her impassioned words, the witch had forgotten that she was sitting at the edge of the table and so when she had leaned back, intending to prop herself up with her arms, she found nothing but empty air and proceeded to fall off the table.

"I'm ok! I'm ok! I meant to do that." The witch quickly called out before the Devil could blink let alone think about reacting. The blond's disheveled hair popped back up on the other side of the table, flashing her an embarrassed smile. "Oopsy, kinda forgot I was on a table there for a second."

Despite her fall, the witch didn't hesitate to pull her hat back on and climb back onto the table. "As I was saying," she began once she stood back up on her feet. "That is why I want to become a witch. Not an ordinary kind mind you. I don't want the power to split the heavens in two or tear down the highest mountains. No, I want to become a different kind of witch, I want to be the kind that will make this world a happier one. They type of person that would bring smiles to those who don't have them, to give laughter to those who need it the most. That is the type of magic I want, which is why one day," She thumped her staff on the table before she took a pose, hand on her waist the other pointing at the Devil, with a triumphant grin on her face. "I will become a witch of happiness."

The light of the fire reflected off the hair of the blond, setting it ablaze like strands of golden fire. The Sitri wondered as she watched her, if this was what looking at the sun felt like? She didn't know, having never seen it before.

"...I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news," the Sitri began cautiously, not wanting to offend the girl though not really sure why she felt that way. "But aren't witches supposed to be bad people? Even the few good ones still have a reputation of being ugly hags with large warts and stringy hair. Won't it be hard to complete your dream when witches have such a negative image. Chances are people will only think you're trying to trick them if you claim to be a witch, even if your only desire is to help."

For a full five seconds, the blond held her pose, hand on waist, staff pointed and triumphant grin on her lips, before she suddenly slumped over in despair. "Damn it, you're right. You're completely right. How the hell did I forget something like that? Damn you Morgan, you just had to fuck with Merlin and give the rest of us witches a bad name. Damn it, what am I supposed to do now."

"The solution is simple." The witch raised her head to send the Devil a questioning look, prompting her to continue. "If you only wish to make people happy and don't care for the title of 'witch' then simply discard it. Take up the name of another profession or even make one up yourself if you must. It's not like using magic to spread happiness has anything to do with being a witch."

"You know what, you're right! Your absolutely right!" The blond shot back up, full of energy and life once again. The Sitri began to seriously entertain the possibility that the girl may be bipolar. "I don't need to be a witch, I can be anything I want to. It's just a name. And I know the perfect one. Since I am a girl who will use magic to spread happiness, from this day forth, I will be a Magic Girl."

"...Wouldn't Magical Girl sound better?" The Sitri added in after a moment of contemplation.

"Yes, Yes! I like it. Magical Girl, it has that certain oomph to it don't you think." She threw her head back and laughed. "Yeah, Magical Girl it is then."

The blond then walked up to the Sitri girl until she stood directly before her on the table. "Well, it's a little late, but allow me to introduce myself." The witch spun in place and twirled her staff in her hands, sending her robes fluttering, before she slammed her staff down and flashed a large beaming smile down at her.

"I am Morgan Le Fay's current apprentice and adopted daughter, the Magical Girl, Evelyn Le Fay."

The Sitri stared up at her before sighing, though there was certain spark of life in her eyes that wasn't there before. The Devil shut the book in her lap before rising from her seat and looking back up at the witch, their violet and blue eyes meeting.

"I am a member of the Sitri Clan, one of the seventy-two pillars, and it's current Heir, Serafall Sitri."

And that was how a Demon Lord, and her Magical Girl, met.

---

*Story End*

Author's Notes:

Let me begin by apologizing for taking so long with chapter. As some of you know I had one hell of a writer's block concerning this story, but it's gone and from now one I intend to start post regularly again. I'll do my best to try and post at least a chapter a month until the end of the Arc.

Now onto the chapter itself. and so we finally get to see a good chunk of Serafall's past - not all of it mind you but more than I planned. I didn't originally plan to reveal so much so fast but there are going to be so many surprises in this arc that I thought it would be best to give it to you know rather than drag it out. So how did you like it? Did Evelyn - the original magical girl herself - meet with your expectations? And how was little Serafall?

And for those of you who are DxD fans, I know that Sairoarg's the Heir, so the details I revealed wasn't a mistake. And in addition, in this universe people with Sacred Gears cannot pass on the Sacred Gear's power to their Kids. So someone with the Boosted Gear will not have children with dragon genetics in them (otherwise there would be a lot of human/dragons around). And I had to create Serafall's parents from scratch since there was no information on them, not even pics. I hope you ended up liking them.

Oh, something that I realized in the last chapter was that people had troubled understanding the character's power levels. The misunderstanding with Karasuba's strength compared to Shirou (I added an explanation in the author's notes of the last chapter for those who missed it) so one of my goals for this Arc is to give everyone a better idea of just how strong everyone is.

This chapter was hard to write, I have to tell you. Partly because there is so much information I have give out, all the politics that their stay in the underworld will involve, and partly because there are so many characters whose personality are hard to write. But I did it and I'm particularly proud on how it ended. Though I am a little worried that after so long away from the story I may have lost a bit of my touch.

So, did you enjoy it? As usual I'd really appreciate any and all comments so be sure to tell me what you think.