Yell out your Dreams.

"The sun?"

The blond paused in her sketching, hand frozen half way through drawing a magic circle, and turned to give her companion a puzzled expression, "You want to know what the sun looks like?"

The little Devil sitting by her side nodded, "That's right."

Papers lay scattered before them, covering the surface of the library's table, evidence of their failed attempts at creating an original magic circle. Though but a few short weeks had passed, already there was changes evident on the young Sitri.

Colour bloomed where there was once none. Only hints of it, a splash of blue and lavender mixed in with the black, but it was there.

Evelyn stared at her with confusion, unable to understand, before her eyes widened with comprehension. "That's right," She leaned back on her chair, crossing her arms behind her head, "The sun doesn't rise around here, does it?" The witch gave her companion a sidelong glance, "So you've really never seen it before?"

Serafall shook her head, "Never."

Spell creation was an art beyond most Devils. With their ability to bend magic to their will they never needed to learn the science behind their gifts. Humans were born with no such talent. Unable to use magic at birth they were forced to discover and comprehend the rules that governed the world's magic, craft entire systems for their brand of spells, draw circles to channel it's power and then, and only then would they be allowed to use even the simplest of spells.

And it was this hard earned knowledge that granted them the insight needed to create new spells.

"It hurts."

The Sitri blinked in surprise, not expecting the answer she had received. "...I do not understand. The sun pains you?"

"Yup." Evelyn nodded in confirmation. She leaned further back in her chair until it ended up balancing on it's back two legs, before tilting her head back so she stared up at the library's distant ceiling, eyes losing their focus. "The sun, it's bright you see. Dazzlingly so. Even for human eyes it hurts to look straight at it. But even so, we just can't stop staring at it."

"Why?" The blond turned her head towards her friend, only to find her violet eyes watching her, "Why would you stare at it if it hurts you? It's illogical."

She gave the Devil a tiny smile in reply, "Because it's dazzling."

Serafall blinked again, taken a back, "But isn't that precisely the reason why it hurts?"

"Yes, yes it is." The witch laughed a little as she dropped her chair forward, before spinning in her seat so that she fully faced the raven haired girl. "It's hurts to look at it, but you can't look away. It captivates you, making you want to gaze at it even through the pain. It's simply that dazzling, as if the pain was worth it."

"And is it?" The Sitri asked, curious, "worth it I mean?"

The blond gave her another one of her little smiles, but didn't answer. Instead she spun in her chair so that she face forward again, before she folded her arms over the table and set her head upon it, on it's side so that she could still see her friend.

"Once," the witch began, tiny smile still in place, "a few years back, my master took me to this great hill in the middle of nowhere. It was early, like still dark with stars out early, and she had dragged me straight out of bed before dropping me there. When I asked what we were doing awake in such an ungodly hour she told me we were here to see the sun come up. It's supposed to be good for the soul, or at least that's what she claimed."

Evelyn lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "Old people are sentimental like that sometimes. And my Master is really old, so it goes double for her... ten times even, if you consider her age." She winced and rubbed the back of her head. "Don't tell her I said that, I don't want to be whacked with that staff of hers again."

Folding her arms back under her head, she continued, "Anyway, so there we were, out in the sticks with not another soul in sight for what must have been a good hundred miles, waiting for the sun to come up. I must have fallen asleep or something because the next thing I knew my Master was shaking me awake and pointing at something. I turned to look at where she was point at and that's when I saw it."

"The sun?" Serafall asked when the other girl trailed off.

"The sun." She nodded, "It came out slowly, sneaking up at us a bit at a time, like it was a shy little child hiding behind his mother's skirt. It wasn't obvious at first, it only got a little bit brighter and the sky a tiny bit bluer but that was it. Then came the first hints of colour. They were like paint drops raining onto water, staining the empty sky like a canvas. Red, orange, yellow, even pink, hues of so many colours, more than I ever knew even existed let alone could name. Then like a little child gathering it's courage and stepping out from behind it's mum, the edge of the sun peeked over the horizon, and puff, the entire world changed."

Evelyn raised her head and propped it up with a hand, her blue eyes shining vividly. "The dawn was...nothing like I imagined it to be. So radiant, so full of color that it will bring a tear to your eye and you can tell never if it's because it was just too bright, or too beautiful. Even though nothing had changed, everything was just the same as it was a minute ago, I was still on that grassy hill in the middle of nowhere, it felt like was I taken some place else entirely, spirited away to another world. To watch as the once bland night-scape burst with colours, to see the grass planes stripped from the shadow that hid them from sight, it was as if just by simply arriving, the sun had make the world a different place, a better one, something far more beautiful than you thought possible."

A warm smile blossomed under the witch's blue glimmering eyes, "I can't really describe it, not enough for you to really understand without seeing it yourself. How it dazzles your mind, captures your attention without trying. You have no idea how beautiful the sun can be, you really don't."

Serafall's violet eyes were locked on the witch's face for a long moment, before she slowly shook her head. "...No," she whispered quietly, watching her, "I think I just might."

"Do you want me to show it to you sometime?"

The question caught the young heir by surprise, and she needed a moment to think on it before she could form a response. "No," she shook her head, a tiny smile on her face. "Not now at least. The world is already bright enough for me. Maybe one day."

"Ho-ho~," Evelyn eyes widen in fascination before she pushed herself off the table and leaned forward, bringing her face right up to the Devil's, an amused grin gracing her lips, "Will you look at that. It seems you can smile after all. You had me worried there for a while."

Serafall frowned at the girl, showing her displeasure, "Of course I can smile, I'd appreciate it if you didn't make me sound like I'm kind of wired animal." Then the Sitri nodded towards the table's surface. "And shouldn't you be getting back to work?"

"Eh!" The witch flinched back and turned back to look at her half-finished work, before she crossed her arms and glared at it sullenly. "Don't remind me. Master has me working on these basic circles for weeks now. It's boring. Why won't she let me do something a little more advanced."

"Don't whine." Serafall chastened softly, "The fundamentals are important. You can't expect to become a powerful mage unless you master the basics."

"Says the girl who can command magic with her mind." Evelyn grumbled half-heartedly but obediently returned to her work. Picking up the pencil from where she discarded it, she reached for a new sheet of paper instead of picking up from she left off and started drawing. Serafall scooted closer, observing her work from over her shoulder, lacking the skills needed to help but still interested in learning the process.

Evelyn's well practised hand sketched out a perfect circle, before she began drawing strings of runes that traced the circle's inner boarder. Her assignment was not to create a completely original spell but her own variation of a pre-existing one. Though that was still no simple task, as the pile of discarded sheets of failed attempts began to build over the next two hours proved.

"Enough!" The witch exclaimed after another failed attempt. She slumped over the table in exhaustion, scattering the paper around her. "Ahh! I don't get this. So much work and for what, not even a proper spell. Master is a slave-driver I tell you, a total slave-driver, piling all this work on her poor little apprentice."

"Work is important, that's the only way you can get better." Serafall explained as she pulled back from where she had been leaning over.

"Hm, and I say you're biased." Evelyn grumbled as she laid sprawled of the table, her arms stretched out before her. "You're a bookworm and a total workaholic on top of that. You actually enjoy this kind of stuff." Evelyn made a face before turning her eyes to the Devil. "Come on Sera, workaholics like you need to learn how to relax."

"And slackers like you need to learn how to work." Serafall told the blond before shooting her a stern look. "And I told you, my name is Serafall not Sera."

"Well this slacker has been working her ass off for the last four hours and needs a break. Too much stress and all that. And I know the perfect stress relief." A mischievous grin made its way to the witch's lips as she pushed herself off the table and turned to her friend. She had her eyes locked on the other girls chest, a leer growing on her lips as she held both her hands open before her. "Beautiful breasts, here I come."

Then she lunged at the Sitri and -

EEP!

Evelyn paused, halting her assault to blink in confusion, her leer quickly slipping off her face to be replace with a look of disbelief. "Wait," she pointed an accusing finger at her target, "Did you just 'eep'?"

Serafall had her arms wrapped protectively over her chest, the normally stoic girl's features turning a bright red as she blushed. "...N-no." she denied, not quite meeting the other girl's eyes.

Slowly Evelyn's shocked features began to morph into an eager one. "You did, you totally did 'eep'. And you're blushing too!"

"...I'm not." She denied, not able to bring herself to look at the other girl in the eye.

"Oh, but I think you are." Evelyn's grin began to turn almost predatory as she eyed the girl.

Pushing herself off her chair, Evelyn began to slowly approach the still blushing Sitri, hands held before her, fingers closing and opening. Serafall too pushed herself off her chair and began to cautiously walk backward away from the approaching blond, arms still wrapped protectively over her chest.

There was a moment where both parties paused in their tracks, before Evelyn lunched for Serafall, hands held forward towards her chest. Serafall let out another startled 'eep' and leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the prying hands. Though instead of being upset of her failure, Evelyn looked ecstatic as she turned to Serafall with a manic grin.

"Yes!" The witch began to chuckle madly as she started to approach Serafall who once again began backing away, circling around the table. "This is what feeling up a girl is supposed to feel like. Now, let the hunt begin. Kyahahaha!"

And with that Evelyn leapt forward again, causing Serafall to release another startled squeak before running away, kick starting a chase around the table as one ran after the other.

"Sera," I whispered, giving her shoulder a gentle shake, "Sera, wake up."

At my prodding, her eyes began to slowly flutter open. Lifting her head off the armrest, she blindly gaze around herself, confused, before she turned towards me and those violet irises seemed to focus on my face.

"Shirou?" She murmured groggily, not quite a wake yet, before she seemed to remember where she was and she glanced around the largely empty hall room. "Oh," She mouthed before she seemed to physically pull herself together. Lifting her feet off the opposite armrest, she set them onto the floor and sat up, tossing her arms over her head and stretching like a great cat, letting loose a large yawn, "Is it time already?"

"Almost, we still have a couple of more minutes before anyone starts arriving." I told her, trying to keep my concern off my voice. Though she was awake, I didn't move away from where I knelt beside her as I carefully observed her face. "Sera, are you alright?"

"Uh-huh." She nodded as she stretched again before turning to give me a sleepy smile. "I'm great, why?"

Awkwardly I pointed to her face "...You were crying."

"Wha-" She raised a hand to her cheeks to find that it wet. "Oh," she seemed startled to find that, yes, she really had been crying, "I guess I was."

"Are you sure you're alright?" I asked, my voice thick with concern. Ever since that day with her parents Serafall had been acting a little….different, and now she's crying in her sleep.

To my surprise though, she gave me a warm smile as her eyes almost seemed to shine. "Yeah, I'm fine, I just had a really nice dream. That's all. A nice nostalgic dream."

"Well, if you're sure." I trailed off awkwardly before forcing myself back onto my feet, still concerned but not willing to push it.

"Uh-huh." She nodded, apparently amused by my behaviour. "You really are a worry-wart you know that? Even worse than Sona. I told you I'm fine." Then her eyes seemed to gain a mischievous gleam to them, something that I had long began to recognize as a warning sign that she had gotten one of her ideas.

"Hey Shirou," Serafall crossed her arms behind her and puffed out her chest while arching her back, causing her breasts to thrust out towards me. "Want to feel up my breasts a little?"

I glanced down to her breasts before looking back up to her smirking face and sighed. Then I karate chopped her on the head.

"Ouch!" Serafall yelped and clutched her forehead. "Hey, what was that for?"

"Yeah, looks like I was an idiot for worrying." Speaking more to myself than her, "If you can kid around again then you're fine."

"I wasn't kidding around." She denied, turning her teary eyes upwards to glare sullenly at me. "And hitting me is considered a crime, an act of cruelty against all Magical Girls. Do it again and I'll have you arrested. Besides, don't you realize how lucky you are? I'll have you know that I had witches chase me around for hours just for the chance to cop a feel of these puppies."

Snorting, I shook my head. Yeah, she was fine if she can still say something as outlandish as that.

"Fine be that way." At my obvious disbelief, Serafall looked away with a huff and crossed her arms. "See if I every offer to let you feel me up anytime soon. You missed you chance. It will be months, years, centuries even before you ever get another chance." She paused, before glancing at me out of the edge of her eyes. "...Though if you ask really nicely, I might be willing to cut the time down to a few seconds."

Yup, definitely an idiot for worrying. Ever since the meeting with her parents two days ago I had been watching over her constantly just in case but it looks like I had been wasting my time.

"Anyway, you may want to straighten your clothes a bit." I told her as I glanced down at her slightly ruffled maroon colored blouse and black pants, one of the few times I had need Serafall dressed up in sensible clothing.

We were currently inside the great hall of the King's Heights Arena, the place where all the Rating Games are held and where the preliminary round for this year's Young Devil's Gathering will take place. The hall was massive, easily large enough to hold several hundred people with room to spare, and with only the five of us in here it felt rather empty.

So far only Sirzechs, Grayfia, Ajuka, Serafall and I had arrived. The only ones in our party who were missing was Fablium, a Devil who was so enamoured with his sin of Sloth that nothing short of a national emergency could get him to do any work, and Ajuka's Queen, a man I never met or even seen before but who apparently was more of a scientist than anything and is usual left in charge of Ajuka's laboratory when he was away. And as neither of the two had be seen in public for over a decade no one was surprised to discover that they failed to appear.

The three Maous were all sitting on their ornamental wooded chairs, more like thrones really, while Grayfia and I stood to one side and a little bit behind our respective King. And though he was not here, a fourth empty throne was placed alongside the other three. All four of the thrones were placed upon an elevated staged set at the back of the Hall, one that was just high enough to see everyone and be seen in turn once the hall was packed full.

A pair of longer stages lined the length of the room, forming a 'U' shape with our stage being the bottom of the 'U', and upon them were a grand total of 72 ornamental desks and chairs. Those were the seats that were reserved for the Elder Council who would also be viewing the gathering along side us. In a few minutes the first of the Council should be arriving, taking their places after they all paid their respects to the Maous, and soon after that the candidates for the Young Devil's Gathering should arrive along with their respected Peerages.

The Young Devil's Gathering has evolved over the years to become something of a coming of age ceremony for Devils. For many of the participants it was their first opportunity to step out of their Clan's protection, to prove their own capabilities and make their own way in life. It was for this reason that a tradition was formed where the participating Devils would be given a chance to announce their intentions and life's ambitions before the fights began, to the very highest members of the Underworld and millions of others who were no doubt watching the broadcast of the event.

Though for now the hall remained empty except for the five of us, and while we waited for the others to arrive the Maous, leaders of the Underworld and epitome of grace and dignity that they are, have gotten bored. Sirzechs had apparently overheard Serafall's proposition to me which in turn inspired him to cop a feel of his own wife's assets, which explained why he was getting his cheeks pinched by said wife. Ajuka was messing around with some kind of tablet computer that I have never seen before while Serafall had promptly fallen asleep until I had woken her.

"Emiya." I turned to find Ajuka absently waving me over with one hand, though his eyes was still locked onto the tablet that he held with the other. "Come here for a minute, I need you to look at something."

Glancing at Serafall, who had thankfully decided to heed my advice and had begun straightening herself up, I decided that I could spare a few minutes and approached the green haired Devil.

"You needed me?" I asked once I reached his side but he didn't bother to glance at me, his focus completely on the little device, and held a hand up.

"Stand still for a moment, I'm almost done." he quickly typed something on the touch screen of the tablet before he pointed the computer at my direction and pressed a button at its side. There was a sound that almost reminded me of the shutters of a camera closing, before the page on the tablet's screen changed. Ajuka quickly scanned the page before he gave himself a satisfied nod and held the tablet out to me. "There, look at this and tell me if it's all correct."

Curious I accepted the tiny computer, almost double the size of my hand, and glanced down at the screen. Then I almost dropped the device from my nerveless fingers as I stared at the familiar looking profile page on it's screen.

Name: Xenovia

Class: Knight

Master: Emiya Shirou

Official Rank: Low-Class Devil

Race: Devil / Human

Gender: Female

Status:

Strength: D-

Endurance: E

Agility: D+

Mana: E+

Luck: E

Scared Gear/ Ability/ Weapon:

Holy Sword Affinity (lost)

Racial skill:

-Devil:

All basic abilities of a Devil are available.

Additional Information:-

Once a Holy Sword user, now no longer. Though the subject still retains that ability upon her Reincarnation, she can no longer touch or even approach a Holy Sword without self-harm. Thus this ability has become lost as she will never be able to hold a Holy Sword ever again.

"…I can't believe it, you actually were able to finish it?" I quickly skimmed the additional information at the bottom of the page that explained how the Stats are measured.

"Not quite." The creator of the Evil Pieces replied, sounding almost disappointed in himself. "While I had succeeded in quantifying a subject's physical capabilities easily enough, their skills are a different matter. I have been unable to find a method to accurately identify a subject's skill set, let alone measure them and have been making no progress at all. The best I could do was create a program that analysed the subject's body and provides a basic assessment after taking into consideration what records we have on their history."

I first ended up meeting the notorious inventor of the Evil Piece system, Ajuka Beelzebub, almost on the very first day I had arrived in this world. While Serafall had a good idea of how the Evil Pieces functioned and was confident it would work just fine on Ilya and me, she wasn't going to take any chances and had sent us to the foremost expert on the subject.

Fortunately, other than a few minor adjustments to compensate for the existence of our circuits, the Evil Pieces seemed to be doing their job just fine. Still, in the name of caution, though I suspected it was more due his curiosity than any real concern over our well-being, the scientist had insisted on almost daily check up for the first month to make sure.

After spending so much time in each other's company that we naturally ended up talking. I had a lot of questions about the world I had found myself in that Ajuka was more than happy to answer so long as he got to ask his own question in return.

It was during one of these conversations we ended up talking about the difference between out magic-systems that I happened to bring up how Masters could understand the abilities of Servants simply by looking at them, and how much of a shame it was that Devils didn't have something similar. Ajuka was fascinated with the idea and before I knew it I found myself alone in the hallway as Ajuka teleported me out of his lab to start working on his latest project.

"It's called the Codex Gigas – the Devil's Bible." The teal eyed inventor explained. "It's still only a prototype model but the development phase is already complete, all that's left it to field test them, identify and fix any errors and it will be finished. My Peerage is already out testing their own copies and I would be with them right now if it weren't for the gathering. Never mind, with the variety of Devils participating this year I should have plenty of opportunity to find good test subjects." Ajuka nodded towards the codex I was still holding. "Speaking of which, how are the results? Is it an accurate assessment of your Knight?"

"As far as I can tell it's completely accurate." I answered while looking over the page. I had already noticed that Xenovia was slower than Kiba though she made up for it with raw strength, an unusual trait in a knight. No doubt a result from wielding an oversized sword like Durandal. And her slightly above average magic reserves could be explained by the spells she needed to learn as an Exorcist. "But why is it showing Xenovia's profile instead of my own?"

"The Codex uses the Evil Piece inside of you to gather its data, it won't work on a Devil without it. And as the King Piece is directly linked with every other Evil Piece under it's command it can be used to gather data from the entire Peerage."

"Still playing with your toys I see, Beelzebub." A voice commented, cutting into our conversation. "It must be nice to be so young and full of life."

Glancing up, I discovered that while I had been engrossed in my conversation with Ajuka over his latest invention a new individual had entered the hall.

Ajuka too seemed startled to learn we weren't alone anymore and looked up before releasing a barely discernible sigh when he recognised who was approaching, something I only noticed because of my proximity to him, but was he was quick to hide his reaction behind a lazy smile. And I could not blame him for his response when I too realized who had entered the hall.

The person that approached us was among the most dangerous entities in the Underworld, maybe even more so than the Maous themselves.

Even had this been the first time I laid my eyes on the man who approached the stage with calm confident strides, his pace unhurried even under the watchful eyes of the Maous, I would have known there was something different about him. He was such an unusual sight among Devils, a race that seemed to be blessed with eternal youth. With their limited ability to alter their appearance, and with enough vanity to use it, it was rare to find a Devil that didn't look young, as if they were in the prime of their lives instead of hundreds or even thousands of years old.

This man however was old, and unlike the majority of his race, he looked it. Instead of concealing his age, he flaunted it, donning it a cloak that he wore with pride. As if his advanced years was a sign of power rather than frailty.

Which was understandable seeing as he was the oldest Devil alive.

The fingers the peaked out of his sleeves were wrinkled and deceptively frail, though I knew that they held enough strength in them to bend steel. His swept back and once dark hair has long ago turned grey, only a few strands of black remaining to remind us of it's original colour. Crow's feet extended from the corners of his lavender colored eyes, set on a grandfatherly looking face, a polite smile pasted onto his lips.

"Bael," Ajuka nodded in greeting and gave the newcomer a lazy smile, "have the rest of the Council arrived?"

To say Zekram Bael was old would not be enough to convey how ancient the being that approached us was. He had lived in the time before the founding of the 72 Pillars, before the original Satans succeeded in conquering the Underworld and uniting it under one banner. He was the first head of the Bael Clan, the original Bael and the first Devil to wield the Power of Destruction. He was a survivor of the Unifying wars, the Great War and, more recently, the Civil War. And while others died and fell during those wars, only he prospered.

Always managing to come out on top after each war and only growing stronger with each passing millennia. Under his rule the Bael Clan became the most powerful of all the Pillars in the Underworld. There exists no other Devil from his generation, no other of the founding member of the 72 Pillars, all the other have perished long ago. Only he remained. There was no Devil alive that even remembers a time that Zekram Bael was not a powerhouse in the Underworld.

'Eras may come and go, Maous may live and die but Zekram, Zekram is here to stay', that such a saying existed among Devils was proof of how long he had been a dominating presence in the Underworld.

Zekram stopped his approach once he stood before the centre of the stage, pausing for a moment to scan the faces of the watching Maous, completely disregarding Grayfia and me from where I had returned to my place by Serafall's side, before gracefully dropping down to one knee.

Placing one fist on the ground, the other arm draped over his knee, Zekram bowed his head respectfully. "My Lord Satans, I apologises for the delay but all the preparations are complete." Announced the Head of the Elder Council. "The Council is ready and awaiting my Lords' permission to enter."

"Well what are they doing waiting outside for?" Sirzechs asked cheerfully. "Tell them to come in already."

"Of course, Lord Lucifer. I will do so immediately." Zekram lowered his head again before raising up to feet and turning back to the door. But before he completed his turn I felt his eyes pause on me, only for a fraction of a second, before he began his trek back to the great doors of the Hall.

It always seemed to be the eyes that gave away the true nature of Devils and I had found Zekram to be no exception. While every other thing about him gave the impression of an ordinary old man, his kind and wrinkled face, his frail delicate build, it was the eyes that proved everything else a lie. Those lavender eyes of his, that despite their colour somehow managed to appear so different than Serafall's, always shone with hidden power and more than a little madness, making them feel so wrong on his grandfatherly face.

I watched him as he reached the doors and opened them to usher in the remainder of the Council. Zekram was, to put it simply, dangerous. He was as ambitious and power hungry as they came, but unlike the others that came before and after him, his ambition was tempered by cunning, a wellspring of experience and a patience that could only be found in one that measured time by millennia. He held so much political power and so many people in his pocket that he probably had enough influence in the Underworld to match any single one of the Maous. And his influence only seemed to grow with each passing century. He was nicknamed by some as the fifth and hidden ruler of the Underworld, and that wasn't that far from the truth.

But despite all of this, I knew that Sirzechs along with the rest of the Maous trusted him. There was a reason why they allowed him to lead the Council.

Two hundred years ago when the former government of the Underworld, known today as the 'Old Satan Faction', were gearing up to resume the Great War with Heaven and the Fallen, it was Zekram that approached a young Sirzechs and proposed the idea of rebelling. It was him who convinced Sirzechs that the Devil race would be doomed to extinction under the hands of the Old Satan Faction with their unending hunger for war. And he wasn't wrong, if the Old Satan Faction were left unchecked they really would have ended the Devil race.

It didn't take much for him to convince the young Sirzechs of that truth, as even back then he had his own doubts about the action of the Old Satan Faction and was intelligent enough to see the writing on the wall, that the war would have spelled their doom. Under Sirzechs a new Faction began to form, what would one day become the modern government of the Underworld, but back then it was a tiny thing, barely a couple hundred Devils in all, most of whom were less than a century old. The fact of the matter was Sirzechs, even along with the other three future Maous who were among the first members, lacked the ability to start a rebellion to overthrow an entire government.

Sirzechs, Ajuka, Serafall and Falbium had the power, charisma, intelligence and drive to lead the new faction but they were still little more than children back then. They were in their twenties and only the Heirs of their respected house, not the Heads. They lacked the experience and credibility to convince an entire population to rebel under their banner. It was then that Zekram proved his worth. With his reputation and influence along with countless years of experience, he managed to give the then fledgeling rebellion the push it needed to grow and become the dominating force that managed to topple a government.

Zekram was dangerous, but he was a danger that was firmly on the side of the four Maous and the New Satan Faction. Whatever threat he posed otherwise, it was reassuring to know that should war arrive someday, whether it was against the Three Factions, Old Satan Faction or someone else entirely, that the monster known as Zekram Bael would be firmly on their side.

Though just because they trusted him, didn't mean they completely trusted him. The man was a Devil in every meaning of the word and only a fool would entirely trust their back to a Devil, especially one that always happened to live while everyone around him died.

I hated to admit it, but Sirzechs was right.

As I listened to the latest participant announce their desire to win every one of their matches and become the new champion of the Rating Games, I had to fight back a yawn. It was a fine ambition and all, if it weren't for the little fact that I had heard that very same goal several times today.

I was standing by my place at Serafall's side, trying to keep the boredom off my face as I watched over the crowd of young Devils that have gathered in the hall. The participants of this year's gathering were standing in a single row before us, with their Peerage lining up behind them. I watched as another young Devil, someone who I vaguely reconsigned as the second daughter of an important Clan, walked out of the crowd to stand at the podium set before the watching Maous and Elders and announce her ambition and surprise, surprise it looked like we had another up and coming champion on our hands. That made seven future Rating Games champions so far and we weren't even half way done.

The goals I've heard up to now have ranged from upholding their Clan's honour to winning every Rating Game match to become the Head of their Clan and that was pretty much it. Oh sure they used different words but they were all more or less the same goal. Normally I would have been able to easily sit through all of this if it weren't for the little fact that there were well over a hundred Devils awaiting their turn to state their goals today and only forty of them had finished. That it didn't help that it took them on average several minutes to finish. They needed to walk up to the podium, announce their goals, respond to any questions posed to them by either the Maous or Elders before returning to their place in line.

It was simply put mind numbly boring, so much so that in a desperate attempt to keep myself awake I began to scan the hall to look for anything to keep my mind occupied. The first thing that caught my eyes was the Elder Council from where they sat on their chairs that lined the walls.

The name 'Elder Council' was a bit of an oxymoron and painted a false image of them. Despite its name, the Elder Council did not consist of only the old and elderly, there were more than a few young Devils mixed in their number, some only three or four centuries old. The Council gained it's name because its members were originally supposed to consist of retired Clan Heads, a place where they can put their considerable experience to good use while their children took up the mantle of leading their Clan. But after the Civil War, many of the previous Clan Heads have died, so instead they were replaced with other members of the Clan, younger siblings of the current head or one of the more talented member of a branch family.

Though despite the large age gap separating them, the members of the Council looked remarkably similar. Not so much in their facial features but in the way they dressed and conducted themselves. They were all dour men and woman, dressed up in uncomfortable looking formal clothing, and all held solemn expressions while they looked on over the ceremony, clapping politely or nodding in approval after every participant finished their turn.

Whatever their true age maybe, with but two exceptions so far, every Devil that sat on the Council looked young, somewhere around mid twenties to early thirties. They numbered 72 in all, every single one of them a member from a prominent Clan, either from the remaining 34 Pillars or one of the less prestigious Clans that managed to rise to power in recent years and fill up the gaps left by the fallen Pillars.

Honestly, they looked pretty much what you'd expect from a bunch of old-fashioned nobles and politicians. Well, except for one particular exception.

My eyes drifted to the council member who sat on the left side of the hall, who happened to be looking at my direction at the moment and winked at me when he noticed me watching.

The man in question was Councilman Mictlan -please call me Mickey-chan – Vine, the representative of the Vine Clan. He was the only other member other than Zekram that showed his true age. He had a long white beard that reached down to his toes and, unlike the rest of his fellow Council members, was dressed up in dark blue robes dotting with stars while he held a wand tipped with a yellow star in his hand.

He was a jolly old man that liked to call me 'Shirou-boya' and would ask me if I had received a wand yet. And every time I told him I didn't he would look heart-breakingly sad before cheering up and telling me to 'give it time boya, just give it time and you'll realise the wonders of Magical Girls'. Not bloody likely, but I liked the man so I would just nod politely in response.

Mictlan also happened to be the reason why the Council as a whole were terrified of Serafall.

Around three years ago Mictlan Vine was a grumpy grinch of an old man. He was so overly harsh and strict that one half of his family were terrified of him while the other half hated him, a sentiment that was shared by most of the Council.

One day, old Mictlan got fed up with how Serafall insisted on dressing up as a Magical Girl in public and engaged in a two hour debate with Serafall about her behaviour. To make a long story short, Serafall somehow ended up winning that debate and Mictlan Vine disappeared for good. In his place a man who looked remarkably like him but refused to be addressed as anything other than Mickey-chan walked out of the meeting room holding a star-tipped wand and would wink every-time he announced himself or cast a spell.

The terrifying thing was that he wasn't the first of Serafall's victim among the Council, he was the third and wasn't even the worst case. The last two council members who tried to argue with her ended up retiring form their position in favour of joining Serafall's show as Magical Girl's apprentices. Needless to say after that everyone learned to leave Serafall's Magical Girl obsession alone. These Devils may have been willing to die for their Pride, but what Serafall threatened them with was a fate worse than death.

I tried to ignore Archer's snarky voice in the back of my mind that happily pointed out there was a very real possibility that I might end up like old man Mictlan one day and maybe I should have listened to him all those years ago when he warned me that I had a fate worse than death awaiting me.

Quickly looking away in an attempt to rid my mind of such dark thoughts, I began scanning the middle of the hall room instead, where the row of Devils awaited their turn, their Peerage lining up behind them.

I quickly spotted Sona in the line, her tiny build making her stand out a little. She was dressed up in a business attire, not unlike what her mother usually wore, and her face was emotionless mask, as it always was when I saw her in public like this. Her entire Peerage were also similarly dressed and equally composed, though whether that meant that they were not nervous or simply knew enough to hide their unease I could not tell.

Not too far away from her was Rias Gremory, her Clan's famous red hair also making her easy to spot. Like Sona, both she and her Peerage was dress up for the occasion. Even Gasper was there, though the dhampir was cowering behind Kiba, burying his face in the knight's back so that he wouldn't have to look at the crowd around him. Behind him, Issei was trying to calm down the feminine blond but going by the way he would tug at the collar of his shirt and glance around, he too was a little bit nervous. And directly behind Issei stood a cloaked figure, Gremory's newest Pawn.

Unlike the rest of the Peerage the Pawn was covered from head to toe in a crimson cloak, the Gremory Clan symbol stitched on its back, completely hiding the Pawn's features from view. It was for that reason that I had no idea what her Pawn even looked liked, not even their gender or name. Gremory had made sure that her Pawn wore the cloak during the entire train ride over, so I never even gotten a glimpse of their face. Sona knew who the Pawn was of course, but she refused to tell me when I asked, having promised to help Gremory keep the Pawn's identify a secret until after she revealed it. And I had to admit, whatever they were doing to hide the Pawn's identity it was working.

Even now when I tried to sense what was underneath the cloak, I felt nothing coming from the figure. No magic, no life, it was like there was nothing there, as if the cloak just floated in mid-air. A ghost. As it was I couldn't even tell if it was the cloak itself that hid the Pawn from my senses, or if it was an ability the Pawn had. It almost reminded me of my Fallen-Ninjas, how they were easily able to hide their presence, but it was also different somehow.

And right now, that cloaked figure was staring directly at the stage. I couldn't tell exactly where the Pawn was looking at, not with their face obscured by the hood, only that their head has never turned away from where the Maous were seated even once over the last hour.

"Sairaorg Bael, step forward." The herald announced.

My eyes snapped back to the ceremony at that name as the entire hall fell silent, the murmuring, shuffling of feet and all the other the ever present background noises, all of it stopped, as if the entire room held its breath.

Seemingly unaware by the change in atmosphere, a young man stepped out of the line of Devils. He was taller, standing a head taller than most, towering over the other participants that stood in line. His hair was dark and eyes lavender, just like the other Bael in the room. And like his ancestor this Bael was an unusual sight compared to his fellow Devils.

As a race Devils excelled in their magical abilities, and those born from one of the great Clans were often gifted with magical potential that far outstrips the average Devil. It was for that reason why many of them had slim or even delicate builds, never seeing to need to train their bodies when their can focus on their magic instead. But not him, this one was built like a fighter.

Even hidden under his formal clothing, the muscles on his chest and arms were clear. They were not the bulky kind you'd fine on a person who worked out in a gym but the compact ones of genuine fighter, someone who developed them in the training field or by swinging a weapon in his hand. It was the build that was not dissimilar to that of Lancer or Archer, the Knight-Class Servants.

Without glancing about he calmly approached the podium, his steps confident, graceful despite having the eyes of most of the Underworld on him, reminding me so much of a great cat that I had no trouble where his second nickname came from.

This was the Strongest Youth, the Bael's Golden Lion, Sairaorg Bael.

Sairaorg paused when he reached the top of the podium, and looked unflinchingly at the watching Maous with his arms crossed before him.

"Sairaorg Bael," Sirzechs began, a fond smile on his face as he watched his cousin. "Many here I am sure have been looking forward for the day you entered the grand stage of the Rating Games. Many more were surprised that it took you so long to do so. I admit, I was one among their number who had expected for this day to come years earlier. If you'd indulge my curiosity for a moment, tell me, why did you take so long to arrive?"

Sairaorg said nothing, instead he turned his head to glance back over his shoulders. I followed his line of sight to find him looking towards his Peerage, where they stood waiting in line where he left them. His Queen, his two knights, two bishops, two rooks, and of course his Pawn, the infamous Nemean Lion that cost him all eight of his Pawn pieces to Reincarnate.

A full Peerage. One of the few here to have one.

"I see," Sirzechs said a moment later after he too followed Sairaorg's sights. He turned back to give the youth a nod of approval. "Now then, let us proceed. Sairaorg Bael, as a member of the new generation of Devils, tell us, what is your dream, you're life's ambition."

Sairaorg stayed slight as he looked at Sirzechs with his lavender eyes. A moment passed, then two and soon murmurers began to spill from the crowd as they became restless. Then, just as it looked like Sirzechs would have to repeat himself, Sairaorg spoke up.

"My Lord Lucifer," He began, eyes unflinching locked onto the Maou. "before I answer that question, will you permit me to ask you a question in turn?"

"Oh?" Sirzechs raised a hand to stall the objections from some of the Council and gave Sirzechs an amused smile. "It is unconventional, but I had asked a question first. Very well, I permit it. You may ask."

"Thank you." Sairaorg lowered his head before looked back up again, his entire focus on only Sirzechs and none of the other Maous. "My question is this, do you know what it means to be strong?"

At his words confused whispers once again rose up from the crowd and even Sirzechs had a bemused look on his face. It seemed that whatever he was expecting to be asked it wasn't that.

"Of course you do." Sairaorg carried on before Sirzechs had a chance to reply. "You were born strong. Talent, intelligence and even the greatest of the seventy-two bloodlines, the Power of Destruction, you had it all. You were destined to become strong from your very birth, a natural born genius, an existence completely different from someone like me."

Sairaorg shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "But I, I was born with none of that. No talent, no bloodline, not even a Sacred Gear. I had none of it. I...was weak." Sairaorg scoffed. "Weak. How many times have I heard that, have been called that? Weak, weak, weak, weak over and over till it haunted my dreams. People had been calling me that for as long as I can remember, since my earliest childhood memories."

He paused to take another breath, eyes still closed. "As I child, I thought it unfair. Why were they born strong while I was not? Why were some blessed with talent or abilities while others like me had nothing. Why even ordinary everyday human beings, who have never trained a day in their entire lives nor have fought in a single battle, can suddenly become infinitely stronger with barely any effort of their own, just by discovering they had been born with a Sacred Gear." Sairaorg scoffed and looked to the side, his eyes opening slightly. "Back then, I had begun to envy them. No, I still do."

"Yes, I Envy the strong. The mighty, the powerful, those that stand high above others, I envy them all." Sairaorg looked to the sky. "But I was not counted among the mighty. Though their were words cruel they were not lies, for they spoke only the truth." He lowered his gaze so that he looked at Sirzechs again and nodded once. "I was weak. I was the weak, the trampled, the scorned. Talentless, discarded, unwanted, broken, the cripple. All that and more.I was weak...but…"

"But no longer." Sairaorg held up an open hand before him and stared at it. "I trained Lord Lucifer. Harder than anyone, longer than anyone, more than a dozen times more than anyone else I knew of, I trained. Week after week, month after month, then year after year, and now decade after decade. While others played I spilled my blood until the very sands of the training ground were dyed crimson. When others slept I broke my fist open on the surface of boulders, fracturing my bones, grinding them to near dust. I suffered, I had cried and bled, but I did not stop, I bore all the pain all so that I may fill the hunger called envy that burned inside of me."

"And after all that," He clenched his fist. "I have finally achieved what I desired. I had turned my weakness to strength, transformed my envy to ambition, and forged my very body into a weapon. And at last I, the weak, have become strong."

"My dream?" Sairaorg lowered his fist and looked back at Sirzechs, "You, Lucifer, the strongest of all the Maous, Lord of all Demons, ask me what my dream is? Then allow me tell it to you. My dream, my goal, my life's ambition, is but one thing.

"To redefine the meaning of strength."

Sairaorg's voice steadily began to rise. "What does it mean to be strong? Is it to be born with power, a bloodline or a Sacred Gear? Is your birth what defines your strength? Or is it your race. If you are neither Devil nor God nor Dragon does that mean you are weak? Or perhaps it is your breeding, is that the secret to strength? Must a full-bred Devil always be superior to that of a half-breed? In the end, is strength simply defined by your birth?"

"No! I refuse to accept that! If that is the world's current definition of strength than I shall change it!" Sairaorg raged, his voice steadily rising until he had finally ended up shouting those last words few words. He took another deep breath before carrying on, speaking once again in a normal tone of voice.

"Bloodlines, natural talent, Sacred Gears – I will prove that such things are meaningless, that they are not what makes one truly strong, that true strength can still be achieved without them." Sairaorg eyes did not waver as they locked onto Lucifer's own. "I will prove that they are not needed to be strong. As one of the many born without, with neither talent, bloodline nor Sacred Gear I shall prove I can still become strong. The very strongest."

"Sirzechs Lucifer. Hear my ambition." Bael's Golden Lion gave Sirzechs a full blown grin as he pointed a fist towards him.

"I will become Maou."

The entire hall erupted with sound at that declaration. From the startled clamour of the crowd, to the approving cheers or disproving outcries of the Elders, the hall once peaceful all became a cacophony of noise. And the source of the chaos ignored it all, allowing the noise to fall upon him like the rain, yet sparing it no attention as he gave his focus to the Lord of all Demons.

Contrary to the rest of the room, the Maous whose positions had been challenge gave an entire different reaction. Serafall was snickering as she watched the insuring chaos before giving Sairaorg a thumps up, Ajuka was clapping his hand politely from where he lounged back on his thrones, while Sirzechs was giving the Bael Heir a smile the was a cross between amused and proud.

After letting the noise carry on for a minute, Sirzechs raised his hand for silence while simultaneously flaring up his power a bit. Needless to say the hall quieted down almost immediately after that.

"You wish to become a Maou?" Sirzechs began with the smile still one his lips. "So you too wish to one day challenge us?"

It was a unusual but not unheard of event for one of the four Satan's to be challenged. A Maou by definition was the strongest of all Devils, which was the only qualification one needed to be one. Each of the current Maous earned their position through the sheer power they demonstrated during the Civil War. Even afterwords, they were not autocratically given their positions but had to fight for it, driving off any of the other candidates. Serafall herself had to fight Grayfia to became the Leviathan, and had she lost that day, it would have been Grayfia sitting on that throne instead.

Even today Devils were still permitted to challenge the Maous for their thrones. After all, if a Maou is the strongest Devil then it was only natural for them to step down and be replaced by the one that surpassed them. Power was the only true measure of worth in the Underworld, everything else simply did not matter when compared to it.

However someone issuing a challenge was a relatively rare event, as all the current Maous' strength were legendary. It only happened once every decade or two at most, usually by an older and more experienced Devil. I don't think there had been a challenger anywhere nearly as young as Sairaorg before.

"And might I ask, whose throne do you seek?" Sirzechs waved a hand towards Serafall on his right. "Is it the Leviathan's title you desire?"

Serafall smiled and waved cheerfully at Sairaorg, not at all threatened. Still I took a protective step closer her, making it clear that if he tried to get to her, he'd have to fight me first. As her Queen it was my right to guard her from any challengers, and while I was sure Serafall could take care of herself there was no way I was going to let anyone fight her unopposed.

"Or will you aim for Beelzebub instead." Sirzechs then waved his hand to his left side to where Ajuka, who simply gave Sairaorg a welcoming nod.

Sirzechs didn't even bother pointing at Asmodeus's vacant throne, knowing that no one wanted to challenge him anymore. Though Falbium was considered to be the weakest of the four, he was also widely believed to be most cunning, a person who had plans within plans, and the Underworld has long learned the folly of challenging him.

The three who tried all ended up getting murdered a few days before their fight was to take place. While many suspected he was involved there was no proof linking Falbium to their deaths other than their convenient timing. In every case the killer was caught and each of them had their own motives for committing the crime, none of them had anything to do with the upcoming duel. The motives ranging from old grudges to spurned lovers. It just so happened that they decided to go through with their plans on murdering them after they challenged Falbium.

The scariest part was that Falbium never even left his house the entire time. The third challenger had even requested that Falbium be watched after he issued his challenge, and Falbium was only too happy to allow the challenger's own guards watch over him. And despite him being watched the entire time the challenger was found dead only a day later at the hands of a former mistress. That was over a hundred and fifty years ago and no one had challenged him since.

There was a reason why someone as lazy as Falbium remained a Maou.

Sirzechs then pointed to himself. "Or will you seek mine-"

"Lord Lucifer, why do you need to ask? Have I not already made my intentions clear?" Sairaorg spoke up, cutting Sirzechs off. "I have already said it, I will become the strongest. Therefore the only seat I desire is that of the strongest Maou." Again he pointed a fist at Sirzechs. "Yours. One day Sirzechs Lucifer, I will come for your throne and make it mine."

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed his declaration before the hall again erupted with sound. Though this time there were more yells of disapproval than support compared to last time. No surprise there, Sirzechs was an incredibly popular leader, arguably the greatest Maou the Underworld ever had. Sairaorg may have just lost more than a few of his supporters after that, but if the look he on his face was anything to go by, he didn't cared.

"As expected, you truly are remarkable little cousin." Sirzechs muttered thoughtfully while rubbing his chin, a tiny smile on his lips. His previous words were spoken quietly, so that only those on the stage and maybe Sairaorg may have heard him. Though his following words were loud enough that the entire hall heard it. "However, if you think the throne of the strongest is so easily reached then allow me to rectify that misconception."

Then Sirzechs Lucifer, the strongest Maou, stopped hiding his power.

In a blink of an eye almost every Devil in the Hall, from the rowdy contestants below us to the offended Elders on our sides fell silent before dropping down to their knees. They did not bend their knee willingly, but were forced to by the oppressive pressure that filled the air, their feet no longer able to support their own weight beneath it. It was crushing, so powerful that it felt as if the hand of a giant was pushing down on my shoulders.

Without lifting so much as a finger or speaking a single word Sirzechs Lucifer reminded all who stood before him of his might.

Even now, sealed, the power that poured out of him eclipsed everyone in the room, it was enough to bring them down to their hands and knees and cause them to tremble in terror. I knew that this was but a fragment of his real strength, that in his true form he was even stronger, much stronger. And while Sirzechs continued to smile benevolently down at his subjects, his eyes told a different story. They were still blue, their pupils still round like that of a human, but there was something else there, a glint that wasn't there before, one that hinted of the madness that gripped his soul while hellfire flickered in the back of his eyes.

It took a considerable amount of will for me not to turn to face Sirzechs, to deny the urge to call upon my swords and guard against him. Instead I forced myself to nonchalantly look over the crowd from where I stood beside him, as if I didn't notice that Satan himself was but an arm's length away from me.

There were seven among the Elders that remained standing under Sirzechs's power, which did not come as much of a surprise. Unlike with humans Devils only grew stronger with age. And neither was I surprised to find that the Nemean Lion remained standing when I looked over the rest of the audience, the great golden lion didn't even look like he was affected by the change in the atmosphere. The last two who stood however did come as something of a surprise.

The first was Sairaorg. Though he was far closer to Sirzechs than the other contestants, thus suffered the most under the strain, he still managed to stand tall and proud as ever. Even as a bead of sweat broke out on his brow and spilled down his face he didn't let the wide confident smile on his face drop for an instant.

The other one to remain standing was the cloaked figure of Gremory's hidden Pawn.

Whatever the thing was, I hoped Gremory can control it. The thing didn't even look like it noticed what was happening, it hadn't budged an inch from when I last saw it, their hidden eyes still facing towards the stage, locked onto something or someone here. For the very first time I began to seriously contemplate the idea that her Pawn may be a legitimate threat.

"It is because it is hard to reach that I aim for it."

At Sairaorg words, Sirzechs cut off his power, hiding it away so thoroughly and quickly that it almost caught me off balance.

"If you understand that then there is no reason for me to warn you any longer." Sirzechs looked Sairaorg over with the amused-proud smile still on his lips, before he inclined his head. "You're ambition has been heard and acknowledged Sairaorg Bael. You may now return to your place."

Sairaorg bowed deeply towards the Maous before he turned around and made his way down the podium and back to his place in line. After a moment to gather himself, the herald shook himself free from his stupor and announced the next name on the list.

It took a while for everyone to shake off the effects of the last few minutes but soon the ceremony was under way again and I was listening to the eight – or was it ninth – future Rating Game champion tonight. It was actually bit of a relief after all that happened.

It was a shame though. If Sairaorg had aimed for any of the other Maous, I honestly thought he might have had a legitimate chance of winning one day. But Sirzechs, he was something different. He was Devil unlike any other I have met. I still remember all too well what he really looked like underneath. Even after all the warnings Serafall gave me before our fight, I was nowhere near prepared to face his true self, not even seeing the twisted corrupted thing the Holy Grail ended up becoming was enough to prepare me for what I say that day. Just the sight of it alone was enough to make me freeze up.

Almost an entire year had gone by since I had first fought Sirzechs and the memory of his true form still evoked a mix of revulsion, disgust and deep seated fear from me.

It was easy, so easy to forget that Devils were not human at times. They looked so much like us that it was natural to forget, for that knowledge to slip from your mind like water between your fingers. But they weren't human, nothing remotely like them. Their exterior was a façade, a lie, nothing but a false mask created many millennia ago by the Devils' forefathers so that they could better blend in with mankind. They had ended up wearing humanity's skin for so long now that the Devils themselves had forgotten they had another form.

And I only comprehended that truth when Sirzechs taught it to me.

Within my Reality Marble, the seat of my soul, where I understood and connected to anyone who walked on its soil, he showed me his true form, allowed the Devil's real nature to come through. He threw always his human shell, discarded his skin as if it were clothing and afforded me a peak at what lay in a true Devil's heart.

Howling madness, a hunger to own everything that could be his and to devour, destroy, end all that could never be.

What I saw was nothing remotely human.

No. It was a shame but should that day ever come that Sairaorg and Sirzechs ever fight, I had no doubt who would emerge victorious. And it really was a shame too. I mean if by some miracle Sairaorg did somehow end up winning and replace Sirzechs as the Maou it meant that...that...

Wait a minute... If Sairaorg wins would that mean I would never have to deal with Sirzechs again?

...It's official. I'm on team Sairaorg from now on.

"Women!"

"...Excuse me?" A baffled Sirzechs managed to ask after blinking a couple of times in bewilderment.

"I said, 'women'." The young man standing on the podium repeated unabashedly, showing not a hint of shame. In fact he sounded rather proud of himself at the moment. "My dream, my ambition is women."

Riser Phenex was a tall man, somewhere around his early twenties with messy blond hair, that looked like it was deliberately styled that way, and dark blue eyes. He was wearing a burgundy blazer with the Phenex Clan emblem embroidered on the right side, with matching pants and black dress shoes. Underneath his open blazer was dress shirt that had the top two buttons open.

Currently Riser had his hands on his hips as he smiled up confidently at the Maous.

"Yes, yes, I heard you the first time." Sirzechs actually looked a little unsure of how to react to Riser's declaration. "But what precisely do mean by that."

"I understand your confusion my Lord Lucifer." Riser inclined his head in a magnanimous manner. "So if you'll permit me, I shall explain."

Riser crossed his arms and shut his eyes, taking a moment to collect his thought before he began. "As I'm sure you must know, I am not the first born son of my Clan. Nor am I a second son either, but a lowly third. It is for that reason that I know I will never lead my Clan. No, that honour and burden falls upon the capable shoulders of my Lord brother. But that does not mean that I cannot be of use to my Clan. Quite the opposite, as my Lord brother's younger sibling it only right that I support him in fulfilling his responsibilities as the Clan Head, something that I am more than happy to do. For it is only natural for a son to aid his family and Clan. And I, Riser Phenex, solemnly swear to support my family to the very best of my abilities and fulfill all my duties as a member of the Phenex Clan." Riser actually gave a bow as he finished.

"However," opening his eyes, Riser rose up from the bow. "That cannot be called a dream. That is duty. And duty is something that all of us here has to an extent. Whether you were born from the noble blood of a Clan or recruited in a Peerage, we all have our own obligations and duty. And as Devils, we are only happy to fulfill them. But that is not a dream."

The Phenex's hands began to move in passion as he continued his speech, "A dream is more personal, something far more selfish than duty can ever be. It is something you only seek for yourself and no other. A dream is inherently a selfish desire. And I, my Lord Maous, am a Devil of Lust. And it because I am one, that I can say this without any doubt."

Here, the blond raised his hands up like a conductor, or a prophet bestowing the world words of wisdom.

"Women are great."

Riser nodded to himself as he carried on speaking, not noticing the stunned looks the rest of on stage were wearing. "Women are the greatest gift upon the world. And as such it is only natural for me to long for them, to want and desire them. And I do desire them, all of them. Be they blessed with large breasts or small breasts, short or tall, blond, brunette, red haired, pony-tailed, twin-tailed or short-haired it matters not, I desire them. I wish for the best among them to be mine. That is my Dream. No, that is the Dream of all men. No," he corrected himself again, "That is what it means to be a Man! Isn't that right!?"

Riser spun in place, turning his back to the Maous so that he may face the watching audience, and thrust a fist into the air. And to my complete astonishment, several members of the audience actually cheered.

Most of them were men of course, either participants themselves or a member of a peerage, but there were more than a few women cheering along as well. And did they every cheer, the applause and whistles were the loudest thing I've heard so far this evening. Not even Sairaorg's speech garnered such a reaction.

From where he stood among the crowd I noticed Issei nodding his head in agreement with Riser's words while he applauded passionately, tears running down his face. While not too far in front of him, Rias Gremory looked less pleased with Riser, as if she couldn't decide whether to feel mortified or pissed off at her fiancée.

Riser spun back to face ahead again, smiling widely. "So my Lord Satans, member of the Council, along with all who fear for the future of the Devil race, rejoice, for I, Riser Phenex will save our race. I beg of you to put your fears to rest because I hereby swear on my honour that I will dedicate the remainder of my life to noble task of repopulating the Devil race, and I will do it by sleeping with as many beautiful women as I can."

Once again cheers broke out but, as if there wasn't enough madness for one evening already, this time the Elders actually joined in, laughing out in merriment.

"Hahahaha! Well that's one way to fix the population problem! Hahahaha!"

"HA! To be so young and full of vigour! It maybe a little foolish but that's how young men should behave!"

Sirzechs however did not look anywhere nearly as pleased with his little sister's fiancée.

"...Is that so." Sirzechs told Riser with what appeared to be an indulgent smile. Though I had gotten to know Sirzechs well enough to know he was furious inside. And I could not blame him for it. As if it wasn't bad enough to know that his sister was going to one day marry someone she hated, and who hated her in turn, now he learns that he is a sexual deviant with no intentions of being faithful.

If I hadn't know Sirzechs as well as I did, I would have almost felt sorry for him. But I knew better, so instead I felt sorry for Riser. There was a long time before the wedding was supposed to take place, until Rias Gremory graduated from University, and that was more than enough time for Sirzechs to teach Riser his displeasure.

Ouch!

I barely bit back a yelp of pain as I felt someone pinch my side. Glancing down, I found myself looking into Serafall's smiling face.

"Shirou." She began pleasantly. Too pleasantly, and I immediately knew she was angry with me over something. "I want you to know, I don't approve of harems."

Now that caught me completely off guard. "Huh?"

"I said, I don't approve of harems." And I swear, I saw hellfire burn in her eyes dyeing them crimson. "Understand?"

"Yes!" I nodded, knowing better than to do anything other than agree immediately.

"Good." She nodded, satisfied, before relaxing back onto her throne with a pleased smile on her face. But it was only a few seconds later before she perked up. "Oh!" She turned back to me. "Unless the Harem is made up of just So-tan, then that's alright. But that's only because I will always be a supporter of yuri-yuri sisterly love."

Then Serafall began to cackle manically to herself at her own joke. Or at least I hoped she was joking. If she wasn't then I was going to have to warn Sona, and warn her fast. If I don't her chastity may be in serious danger when her sister got her hands on her.

The sounds of muffled laughter filled the hall. It wasn't a laugh born from joy, or even amusement. It was mocking, the sound of contempt and ridicule.

An insult.

And all of it was aimed at the lone girl standing on the podium. Sona stood stoically as she always did in public, paying the laughter no mind, eyes only on the Maous. Even though it must have surely hurt to have her dream laughed at, she did not show it.

'I wish to create a combat school. One for the Reincarnated and Low-Class Devils' was Sona's reply when asked for ambition.

And in response to her declaration all she received was scorn from the Elders. There is already a school for true Devils – I see! So you are only a little girl who dreams! - It must be good to be so young and able to think of such childish thoughts.

Though it was only the members of the Council who said such things. The rest of the hall's occupants did not share their sentiments.

The audience shuffled nervously on their feet, looking away from the spectacle, clearly uncomfortable with what was happening. Whether it was because they did not agree with the Elders, did not like to see one of their own humiliated so or-

*CREAK*

-or maybe because they had a clear view of a very pissed off Maou.

The arms rest of her throne has splintered under her grip, teeth gritted so hard that I could hear them creak, Serafall sat statue still as she stared at what was supposed to be her sister's grand début to the Underworld turned into a public humiliation with a face turned white with rage.

Sigh, it looked like I have to do something soon before Serafall ends up killing somebody.

But still, something was off. I turned my sight towards the jeering Council and narrowed my eyes as I tried to figure out what was going on. The entire Council was acting oddly, almost severely so. It wasn't like them to behave so heavy-handedly, they had always preferred more subtle methods to display their disapproval, nor was it like them to commit such an obvious blunder.

They surely must have known who Sona was, so why would they insult her so thoroughly in front of Serafall? She was also the Sitri Heir, so an insult to her was an insult to the entire Sitri Clan. And Liliana Sitri was not someone to be angered lightly. So why would they committed such a blunder? The Elders were no greenhorns in the political arena, there was no way they could have made a mistake that even I could easily spotted. Not unless they had something to gain that would offset the risk.

Then there was their comments about the Reincarnated Devils. That alone was a hot-button issue that they normally avoided like the plague.

With the rising discontent of Reincarnated Devils and the growing tension between them and the pure-bloods, the Maous and the Elder Council were faced with the real possibility of them rebelling within the next few decades. And with the Underworld still recovering from the Civil War, they cannot afford to start another one.

Which was why the Council had been doing their best for years now to avoid antagonizing them, publicly at least. Whatever their thoughts were on Reincarnate Devils, or half-breeds as many of them liked to call us, they were wise enough to keep such comments to themselves even though I new a considerable number of them looked down on them.

Yet here they were, not only mocking the Reincarnated Devils publicly but on live television with most of the Underworld watching. Surely they realized that the repercussion will be massive, yet they did it anyway.

No, there was something else going on here, something that I wasn't seeing.

I glanced towards Sirzechs, trying to figure out why the hell was he letting this go on. He was just sitting there, watching the Council like a hawk, but doing little else. So far any time anyone stepped too out of line, he would stomp on them hard, but now when I needed him the most it looked like he was content to let things play themselves out for some insane reason.

Before I could think on it anymore, I felt the air around me turned frigid, so cold that my breath began to steam. Turning to Serafall, found that her eyes had turned crimson, burning with hellfire, as hoarfrost developed upon the her broken throne, branching out like the roots of a tree.

Oh damn it. No time to figure it out, this has to end now or Serafall may really end up killing someone, hell, she may end up killing every one of them. And if the thoughtful looks Sirzechs was sporting as he watched over the proceedings was anything to go by, it still didn't look like he planned to interfere, which meant it was up to me to put a stop to this.

And one of the Councilmen just happened to give me the perfect opening to act.

"Excuse me." I cut the man off just as he was explaining the inferiority of the weak half-breeds to Sona in a patronizing tone. I made sure to keep my tone respectful, a politely smile on lips, while still rising my voice just loud enough to be heard over the din. "But did you just call me weak?"

I had to admit, hearing the entire hall fall silent at my words was oddly satisfying.

Sirzechs and the others had tried their best to suppress all the information they could on me, either my Reality Marble or my otherworldly origins would have been enough to make me a target of one of the various powers out there, so it was only natural for them to keep quiet about me, but even they had their limits. They could only hide so much. And apparently fighting a Fallen horde led by a twelve-winged Angel in front of members of all three Fractions went well past that limit.

The best they could do was suppress the information on my Reality Marble and all that happened inside of it. All the Devils who were drawn into it were loyal enough to either Sirzechs or Serafall to keep their months shut, while the Heaven and Fallen Faction were not in the habit of exchanging information with Devils. So there was that at least.

But even if that part of the tale was suppressed, the rest was not. The rumours of my victory has been spreading for months now, and I had no doubt that practically everyone in this room heard of some version of what happened.

And now the Devil who had beaten the Kokabiel, a Reincarnated Devil who was strong enough to make the greatest of the Maous bleed, just overheard the entire Council call his kind weak. As if it wasn't enough to make them worry, it was well known I was a Devil of Pride, the kind of Devil that never reacted well to insults. Actually, we were rather infamous for taking insults rather badly.

I watched the councilman in question turn deadly white as all the blood drained from his face when he realized that by calling half-breeds weak right in front of me he may have inadvertently insulted me, and I couldn't find it in myself to feel any pity for him.

"No, I-I-" The man stuttered as he tried to backtrack but I was having none of that.

"Now correct me if I'm wrong," I cut him off, still holding a polite smile that was fooling no one. "but I distinctively remember you saying that all the half-breeds are weak. And I believe as a Reincarnated Devil, I fall under the category of half-breed. So I'll ask you again," this time I dropped my smile and let my tone turned cold, "did you just call me weak?"

There, that should be enough. I didn't want to start a fight here, just warn them off enough so that they'll back off from Sona, so I'll leave things at that. Sona won't get an apology or anything but they should drop the issue and move on now that-

"Yes, we are." The voice cut through my thoughts like a knife.

Huh?

Whirling in surprise, I turned to discover that Zekram Bael was the one who had spoken up. The oldest Devils was smiling pleasantly at me from where lounged on his chair, eyes crinkling in merriment.

"What did you just say?" I managed to ask, more out of disbelief at what I heard than anything.

"I called you weak." Looking like nothing more than a kindly grandfather playing with his grandkids Zekram hurled another insult at me, while his mad lavender eyes danced with barely hidden mirth. "Did you not hear me, or are you half-breeds deaf as well as weak boy?"

I don't think I was the only one stunned at that. Most of the hall's occupants turned to Zekram in shock, jaws dropping. Even Sona, who didn't budge an inch when she had been mocked, gave Zekram a look of wide eyed disbelief.

For a moment I felt a flash of genuine rage flare up inside of me, almost overcoming my reasoning before I forced it down. This wasn't the time to let my temper get the better of me, especially over some petty insults. I needed to think.

What the hell was Zekram trying to do? This is not something that can be brushed aside anymore, not without making myself, and through me Serafall, appear weak. Not when he said it so publicly. Why would he do something like that?

The only thing I can think of was Zekram was deliberately trying to provoke me, but for what I had no clue.

"Zekram Bael." Sirzechs spoke up, finally breaking his silence and saving me the trouble of thinking up a response, but unlike the rest of the room he didn't look shocked by the turn of events. Rather he appeared intrigued. "Have you already forgotten? Unless my memory has failed me I distinctly recall you being there when I fought with Emiya here."

"With all due respect my Lord Lucifer," Zekram nodded pleasantly to Sirzechs, "I have seen nothing. All I remember seeing was a large sphere of fire and nothing else. It wasn't much of a fight."

Devils can sense magic on a scale that the Magi of my old world could not even begin to imagine. In many ways that sense was as important to them as the sense of sound was to humans. This made watching the early Rating Games an unenjoyable events for Devils, as they couldn't use their magical senses to observe the fight, not when the fights were held in a pocket dimension to prevent the risk of injury. To them it was like watching a movie without colour or sound. Bland.

The solution to that problem was rather simple. After a few experiments and false starts, Devils managed to create a monitoring system that displayed magic, making it visible to the ordinary eye. While not a perfect substitute, it was enough for Devils to make due. Now when the audience watched the matches, they could see the combatants' magic and spells. Even those that are not supposed to be seen, such as Sacred Gears that can turn their users invisible, are now visible to the audience as their magic gave them away.

When I summoned my Reality Marble, called forth the Unlimited Blade Works, instead of the empty place they should have seen, a dome of illusionary fire appeared. It did not burn nor emit any heat, but it's traced the area where of my Reality Marble overlapped with the world, where it was tethered into this reality.

"As for his fight with the Fallen," Zekram chuckled a little, "That was even worse. Though we know a fight did happened, and that they boy had somehow emerged victorious, but that was all. All the information on how he won was missing, just like when he fought with you Lord Lucifer. Rather convenient don't you think, this pattern that keeps emerging, how the boy claims victory when none of the witnesses can explain how he won?"

...I do not know why, but for some reason I felt as if I had just walked into some kind of elaborate trap. And even know I couldn't figure out what the trap was. My mind was still reeling from how quickly things went from Sona's dream to the authenticity of my previous fights, as if I was some kind of fraud.

"And what would it take to convince you of young Emiya's strength?" Sirzechs seemed to find the entire situation far too entertaining for my liking. "He has already battled me and a twelve-winged Fallen. Who do you propose he fight next, a God?" Sirzechs lips quirked up in amusement, before inclining his head towards Zekram. "Or perhaps you wish to duel him."

"Oh no, no. An old man like me would be no challenge. With these old bones of mine I can barely walk anymore let alone fight."The Underworld's hidden ruler lied through his teeth as he laughed the suggestion off. "No, what we need is for him to fight in a public setting so that there can be no doubt of his ability. Perhaps with a younger opponent, one more along the line of his age."

Then Zekram Bael deliberately turned his eyes to the middle of the hall, where a hundred and more young Devils lined up, with their Peerage right behind them.

The contestants for the Young Devil's Gathering.

"Well, would you look at that." Zekram's eyes widened in mock surprise before he turned to give me a kindly smile. "How old did you say you were boy?"

Sirzechs gave a tiny nod, so even though I felt the noose tighten around my neck, I resisted the urge to lie and answered. "Nineteen. Twenty in less than a month."

"Is this what they call the 'Devil's luck I wonder?" The old Devil chuckled and shook his head. "The Young Devil's Gathering cut off age is twenty-five, and you just happen to be eligible to participate." Zekram gave me another of his grandfatherly smiles, even as he locked those mad-tainted eyes on me. His lavender eyes seemed to swirl as they bore into me. "Well, Emiya. What will you do? Will you fight, or will you run?"

...As if he left me any choice. He insulted me in public, questioned my ability to fight, and then asked if I would run away from what amounted to the Underworld's children. If I did anything but fight my reputation would be ruined beyond repair. And not mine alone, Serafall would get dragged down with me.

So knowing I had no real choice, I glanced towards my King for permission. Serafall still looked furious, glaring daggers at Zekram, but after a moment she nodded her head in consent. Having received permission, I turned back to Zekram.

"Very well." I nodded, staring him right in his eyes, refusing to give another inch more than I already did. "I will join in this year's gathering."

"Excellent my boy, excellent." The Bael ancestor clapped his hands once in delight. "We will finally get to see this 'strength' of yours half-breed. Let's see if it can match up against a real Devil's." His smile began to turn oddly sly as he continued. "And of course, you will be forbidden from using that fire trick you utilized on your match against the Lord Lucifer."

I felt my eyes narrow in confusion as I tried to figure out what he was talking about. Fire ability, what fire ability? What was he talking about? All I used against Sirzechs was my swords and my-

It hit me like a bolt of lightning. My Reality Marble, he was talking about my Reality Marble.

"And why should I permit that Bael?" Sirzechs asked, sounding please with how things was panning out, happy as if he planed the entire thing himself. And with Sirzechs who knows, he was a crafty bastard, so maybe he did. "It is his ability, why should he not use it as he pleases?"

"Because my Lord Lucifer, we want to see the boy fight." Zekram explained. "If all we end up is seeing another wall of fire then there will be no meaning in it."

And while I hated to admit it, the man had a point. Nothing inside my Reality Marble could be observed from the outside. But in the end there was no need for that rule, I had no intention of using it in any of the upcoming fights. The Unlimited Blade Works was my trump card, there is no way was I going to allow anyone to catch a glimpse of it unless I had to. And a Rating Game where no one's life was on the line did not qualify.

Sirzechs as well must have known this, because he quickly approved his request. "Very well, I'll permit it. For the remainder of the gathering, that ability will be banned from use in Rating games. Now unless if there is anything else you wish to add before we wrap up the ceremony?"

"Ah, there is one last thing Lord Lucifer." Zekram spoke up, apparently still have one more card to play. "It is tradition for Devil's participating in the gathering to state their life's goal in the ceremony. Now that the young Sitri has finished, that means that all of the original participants have had their turn. Presuming of course that the young Sitri has indeed finished."

Zekram smiled kindly down at Sona while giving her a questioning look. Sona, being the bright person she was, quickly nodded and walked of the podium. Good girl, she must have realized by now that the response she received from the Council had less to with her dream and more to do with some kind of political play. The best she can do now was back away and stay out of the line of fire.

"Good, now that all of the others are done, all that's left is you boy." Once again I found myself staring into Zekram's twisted eyes. "Now tell us, Emiya Shirou, what is your dream, what is you're life's ambition?"

Shutting my eyes, partly so that I didn't have to look into those eyes anymore and partly so that I could remember better, I thought back to that day not too long ago yet somehow felt like a lifetime away. When I sat down in a park and met an Angel.

While I did not know it then, it was thanks to his words that I received underneath those swaying green leaves that I knew what I must do in this world.

"It is pointless." I opened my eyes and looked straight at Zekram, "There is no meaning in telling you my dream today, when you'll see it come true yourself before long. So instead allow me to tell about what will happen in the immediate future. A prophesy if you will, of not too distant events."

Turning away from Zekram, I looked towards the middle of the hall, where the rest of the participants have lined up.

The expression on their faces were diverse. Some of them looked confused by the current situation, the events of the last few minutes having caught them off guard and they were still trying to process it. Others looked like they simply did not care, as if the inclusion of a single Reincarnated Devil made no difference to them.

But most of them, most of them looked back at me with growing horror, as it slowly began to dawn at them that in addition to Sairaorg, an Ultimate-Class Devil has joined in the fray.

Sona was part of the latter group. She knew better than any other competitor here how strong I was, and understood me well enough to realize that I wasn't going to hold back, not even against her. And if the terror-stricken faces of her Peerage was anything to go by, they thought so too.

As for Sairaorg, well, he was the only one who looked pleased with my entry, if the eager smile he was giving me was anything to go by. One that I matched.

Devils of Pride never did take insults well, not at all. And even if I did hide it rather well, I was furious. In the span of a few minutes I had been called weak, had the legitimacy of my strength and every fight I fought in questioned and then was played like a pawn on a chess board that I could not see. Everyone had their limits, there was only so much one can take before they snapped.

And I was dangerously close to mine

"In this year's young Devil's Gathering." I looked back at Zekram and pointed at the gather participants before I delivered my prediction.

I will crush every single one of them.

*Story End*

Author's notes:

And there we have it, a new chapter complete and Shirou has entered the Rating Game. When I first planed this chapter out it was supposed to last all the way until the first round of fighting and it was supposed to include a talk where all the politics of the events is explained to Shirou, but as usual my writing ballooned so I cut it off here and save the rest for the next chapter.

This chapter was much easier to write than the last, my writing flowed so much better, I guess I'm finally back to the groves of things. Or maybe I'm in London again (my cousin got into a university here so I'm helping him move), I did end up writing chapter 10 here so may the environment helps. Which reminds me, if any of you know any good anime, manga or fanfiction clubs I can visit here send me a PM. There doesn't exist anything like that back home.

Some people had trouble understanding past events so I included a time-line. It's only a rough one but it should help a bit for those who care.

Rough Time line:

1000 years ago – The Great war ended and the original Maous along with God died. The Maous' children inherited their position (making them the 2nd generation of Maou).

225 years ago – Sirzechs and co were born within 3 years of each other.

205 years ago- Civil war stared.

200 years ago – Sirzechs and co. Killed the Original Maou children and took their place as the new Maous (That would make them the third generation of Maou).

And before you ask, Rias's pawn is 100% canon.

I received several PMs of people worried that I may abandon my other story, 'A World Full Of Monsters', well don't be. I plan to write both this story and that, juggling between them if I ever get into a funk again.

And I made a mistake in the last chapter. I wrote Serafall's eyes as violet (like in the anime), when it was supposed to be blue (like in the light novel). I decided to stick with violet from now on and go back make the changes to the older chapter. I will also use this chance to fix my old spelling mistakes and error.

So that's it for now. How did I do? Did you like what I did with characters and the declaration of their dreams, especially Sairaorg and Riser (I wonder if any of you expected Riser)? Or how about Serafall/Shirou/Evelyn? Tell me what you think, as usual I'd appreciate any and all comment.

Thanks for reading.