Chapter One "Victory and Hope"

Riser Phenex stood tall amidst the chaos of the Rating Game, a smirk playing on his lips as he surveyed the devastation around him. His peerage had performed admirably, crushing Rias Gremory's pathetic servants one by one. Now, only the crimson-haired princess herself remained.

He reveled in his impending victory, already imagining how he would celebrate once Rias became his bride. The thought of her submitting to him sent a thrill of excitement through his body. When Rias rose to her feet, Riser was prepared for her inevitable surrender.

What he saw instead left him dumbstruck. Rias Gremory sported a bloodthirsty grin, and the air around her crackled with energy—a familiar crimson aura reminiscent of her brother, Sirzechs Lucifer.

"Trace On!" Rias shouted, her voice ringing with authority.

Swords materialized out of thin air, each blade pulsing with crimson energy. Riser scoffed, wondering what Rias was trying to do. Was this a final, but useless show of defiance? It didn't really matter as the Rating Game was over when Rias's Peerage was defeated.

The weapons hung suspended for a moment before hurtling towards him with terrifying speed.

Deciding to humor Rias, Riser summoned a pair of wings of fire, if only to give her the impression that she had some hope of winning, only for him to crush that fleeting hope so that she understood her new place as his obedient wife.

He took flight and evaded the assault with ease, laughing as he prepared to taunt Rias. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a blade struck his shoulder, slicing through flesh and bone with ease.

Riser cried out in pain and surprise. One of the vaunted traits that the Phenex clan inherited from their phoenix ancestor was not just immortality, but also naturally high pain tolerance. The sword shouldn't have caused him more than minor discomfort, yet the pain was growing.

The young Phenex didn't have time to think about why he was feeling such intense pain. The swords became faster, forcing Riser to move quicker. There were more swords coming at him than before, and they seemed to anticipate where he was about to go.

Sweat started to bead down Riser's face as he was forced to devote more of his energy and attention to weaving out of the increasingly faster, numerous, and accurate swords. The constant and growing pressure was getting on his nerves, and he finally snapped. He was no longer going to let Rias attack him unhindered; it was time to go on the offensive. Or at least, that was the plan...

"Argh!" Riser screamed as the first sword to hit him started to glow. "Impossible," he gasped in pain as he stared at his wound. His Phenex regeneration should have kicked in immediately, closing the wound in seconds. But to his horror, the gash remained open, blood flowing freely down his arm.

The second, third, and then more blades started to hit him despite his best efforts to dodge. Each hit brought a fresh wave of pain and panic.

Riser's mind raced, desperately trying to understand what was happening. He couldn't fathom why Rias had not shown these skills earlier. If she had used these very swords when her Peerage had been fighting his, some of her servants might have remained standing instead of suffering the one-sided defeat they had...

"You shouldn't be distracted, Riser!" Rias shouted as she snapped her fingers, and the rate of sword formation, their speed towards him, and their accuracy jumped up a notch.

He quickly threw aside any thoughts about how the Rating Game would have changed if Rias had not hidden the powers she was currently using. It was at that moment, for the first time, a sword hit something besides his limbs.

"Ugh!" Riser grunted as the blow landed squarely on his torso, his breath escaping in a harsh gasp.

Riser looked down. The crimson blade embedded in his stomach didn't heal. It was one thing for his wounded limbs not to heal, but it was a completely different story when it came to his torso. Anyone who had a Rating Game against someone from the Phenex clan knew of his family's famed regeneration and would attempt to use a weapon or magic that hindered healing, but all those methods rarely ever affected the Phenex regeneration of wounds to the head and torso. That was just how powerful the Phenex regeneration was.

But even as the crimson blade faded after hitting him, there was no indication of his clan's regeneration kicking into gear despite suffering a torso wound.

A cold wave of panic surged through Riser. This was an unfamiliar sensation, this brush with mortality. The invincibility he had always taken for granted seemed to crumble before his eyes. The Phenex's renowned healing abilities, once a symbol of his assurance and arrogance, now felt fragile and unreliable.

For the first time, the specter of death loomed over him, stripping away his confidence like a fragile veneer. The realization that he might not walk away from this encounter sent a chill down his spine, leaving him desperately searching for a way to escape this dire fate.

"What... what is this?" he sputtered, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "How are you stopping my regeneration, Rias?"

O O O

I didn't respond to his question.

I stood firm, my hand outstretched, directing the storm of crimson blades with deadly precision. Riser's confidence was crumbling before my eyes, and I felt a grim satisfaction at the sight. As I continued my assault, I could see the panic setting in. His movements, once fluid and graceful, were now jerky and desperate. Each evasion cost him, his body screaming in protest as wounds that should have healed continued to bleed.

"This can't be happening," I heard him mutter, his voice laced with disbelief and fear.

I allowed a cold smile to play on my lips as I intensified my attacks. Each sword came close enough to graze him, to remind him of his newfound vulnerability, but not close enough to end the fight outright. I was toying with him, and we both knew it.

The thrill of power coursed through my veins, a heady mixture of relief and vindication. For months, I had been drowning in stress and anxiety, desperately searching for ways to escape this political marriage. Countless nights I had spent poring over ancient texts, seeking loopholes, bargaining chips, anything that might give me an edge. The weight of my family's expectations, the suffocating pressure of maintaining the Gremory name - it had all been a constant, crushing presence.

And then there was the training. Grueling, relentless preparation for a Rating Game I had believed would define my life. I had pushed my peerage to their limits and beyond, watching them suffer and struggle for my sake. The guilt had been almost unbearable, knowing they were fighting my battles, risking everything for my freedom.

But now, as I watched Riser's panicked attempts to evade my attacks, I felt a surge of dark pleasure. All that pent-up frustration, all the fear and anger I had suppressed - it found its release in each crimson blade I sent hurtling towards him.

Suddenly, Riser's eyes flashed with desperate determination. He raised his hands, summoning a massive fireball. "Enough of this!" he roared, hurling the inferno towards me.

I didn't move. I didn't need to. With a mere thought, I redirected several of my crimson blades to form a shield in front of me. The fireball crashed against it, dissipating harmlessly. Riser's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Is that all?" I taunted, my voice cold and steady. "I expected more from the great Riser Phenex." The words tasted sweet on my tongue, a balm to all the times I had been forced to bite back my true feelings, to play the role of the dutiful daughter and potential bride.

Enraged, Riser launched a barrage of fire attacks. Streams of flame, fireballs, even attempts to surround me in a ring of fire. Each time, my crimson blades moved with fluid precision, blocking, deflecting, or simply cutting through his attacks. I reveled in the ease with which I neutralized his efforts, a stark contrast to the sleepless nights I had spent worrying about facing his power.

All the while, I never stopped my own assault. As Riser focused on his desperate attempts to break through my defenses, more and more of my blades found their mark. Each impact elicited a cry of pain, each new wound sapping more of his strength. The sound of his anguish was music to my ears, a symphony of retribution for all the anxiety and fear he had caused me.

"How?" Riser gasped between attacks. "How are you doing this?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I increased the intensity of my assault. My crimson blades danced through the air, a deadly ballet that Riser could no longer hope to avoid. Each impact sent shockwaves of pain through his body, each new wound a reminder of his fading immortality. I watched with a mixture of fascination and dark pleasure as the realization of his mortality dawned on him, mirroring the vulnerability I had felt for so long.

Riser, in a last-ditch effort, summoned his wings of fire once more. He took to the air, perhaps hoping that altitude would give him an advantage. But my blades followed, relentless in their pursuit. I watched as he weaved and dodged, his movements becoming increasingly frantic. The sight of him fleeing, desperate and afraid, was a balm to my wounded pride. How many times had I felt cornered, trapped by the expectations placed upon me? Now, it was Riser's turn to feel the suffocating grip of inevitability.

"You can't run forever, Riser," I called out, my voice carrying easily across the battlefield. "Face your defeat with dignity." The irony of my words wasn't lost on me. How often had I been told to face my fate with grace, to accept the marriage with dignity? Now, I threw those words back at Riser, savoring the role reversal.

His response was another wave of fire, more intense than before. I could feel the heat even from where I stood, but my shield of crimson blades held firm. As the flames died down, I saw Riser's face contort with frustration and fear. It was an expression I had worn many times in private, as I grappled with the seemingly insurmountable challenge before me. Seeing it mirrored on Riser's face brought a twisted sense of satisfaction.

I decided it was time to end this. With a flick of my wrist, I sent a volley of blades hurtling towards him. Riser tried to dodge, but his movements were slow, hampered by his numerous wounds. The blades struck true, sending him plummeting from the sky. I watched his fall with a mixture of triumph and vindication, each second of his descent a payback for the months of anxiety and dread I had endured.

"Stop this, Rias!" Riser shouted as he crashed to the ground, his voice cracking with desperation. "You've made your point. I yield!"

But I had no intention of stopping. If anything, I intensified my attacks, the crimson swords coming faster and with greater precision. This was more than just a Rating Game now. This was retribution for every opponent he had humiliated, for every fight he had treated as a mere game. It was payback for the sleepless nights, the tears I had shed in private, the weight of expectations that had threatened to crush me.

As the battle wore on, I watched Riser's movements become slower, more labored. His once-pristine suit hung in tatters, soaked with sweat and blood. His wings, once proud symbols of his Phenex heritage, now drooped limply at his sides, too damaged to support flight. The sight of his deterioration was intoxicating, a physical manifestation of the crumbling of the fate that had been thrust upon me.

Through it all, I remained relentless. My crimson swords danced through the air, a deadly ballet that Riser could no longer hope to avoid. Each impact sent shockwaves of pain through his body, each new wound a reminder of his fading immortality. I poured all my pent-up frustration, all the anger and fear I had suppressed, into each attack. It was cathartic, liberating in a way I had never experienced before.

"Please," Riser gasped, falling to his knees. His pride, once his most defining trait, lay in shreds around him. "Rias, I beg you. End this."

I paused, my hand still outstretched, crimson energy swirling around my fingers. For a moment, I considered showing mercy. But then I remembered all the pain he had caused, all the lives he had disrupted with his arrogance. I thought of the countless hours I had spent strategizing, planning, hoping against hope for a way out. The sleepless nights, the constant fear, the weight of my family's expectations - all of it came rushing back.

"You never showed mercy to those weaker than you, Riser," I said, my voice cold and unyielding. "Why should I extend that courtesy to you now?" The words were as much for him as they were for everyone who had tried to force me into this marriage, who had dismissed my desires and autonomy.

With a flick of my wrist, I summoned a new wave of swords. Riser could only watch, his body too battered to move, as they hurtled towards him. In those final moments, as the crimson blades bore down upon him, I saw true, unadulterated terror in Riser's eyes. He closed them, bracing for the impact.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, though whether to me, his family, or the universe at large, I wasn't sure.

The swords struck home, and Riser's body was thrown backward by the force of the impact. As he sailed through the air, I saw flashes of regret cross his face. In that moment, I hoped he understood the weight of his actions, the arrogance that had led him to this point. I hoped he felt a fraction of the helplessness and fear that had been my constant companions for months.

Riser hit the ground hard, his body bouncing once before coming to rest in a crumpled heap. I could see the pain overwhelming him, his once-indomitable Phenex regeneration now little more than a feeble flicker. The sight of him, broken and defeated, brought a complex mix of emotions - satisfaction and relief.

I walked over to him, power still radiating from me in palpable waves. Riser managed to open his eyes one last time, looking up at me with a mixture of fear and awe.

"How?" Riser managed to croak out, blood bubbling from his lips. "Your power... it's impossible..."

I regarded him coolly, feeling a mixture of pity and resolve. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Riser," I said softly. "And you will see more of it in the future after this Rating Game."

As consciousness began to slip away from him, I could see the questions whirling in his eyes. He would learn of them in the coming days as no doubt my family would interrogate about my sudden increase in powers or how I had demonstrated skills that I had never shown before.

"This Rating Game is over. Rias Gremory wins." Someone that was not from Riser's or my Peerage announced as the battlefield started to fade, as did the bodies of my friends, Riser's Peerage and Riser.

O O O

A feminine scream pierced the early morning air, startling Arthur Pendragon from his slumber. His eyes snapped open, instincts honed from countless battles kicking in. Without a moment's hesitation, his arms shot out, catching the small figure that had been hurtling towards him.

"Aww, big brother! You weren't supposed to catch me!" Le Fay Pendragon pouted, her golden hair disheveled from her failed surprise attack. She dangled in Arthur's grip, her feet swinging above the bed.

Arthur chuckled, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. "Your stealth skills need work, little sister," he teased, gently lowering Le Fay to the side of his bed. "Though I must admit, your enthusiasm is admirable."

Le Fay huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's not fair! Your instincts are too good. I'll never be able to catch you off guard."

"Perhaps that's for the best," Arthur mused, sitting up and running a hand through his blonde hair. "A Pendragon should always be prepared, after all."

Le Fay's pout transformed into a bright smile. "Speaking of being prepared, it's time for your magic lessons, big brother!"

Arthur couldn't help but laugh at the irony. Here he was, in this reincarnated life, doing something completely unrelated to being a King or a Knight. The great King Arthur, once ruler of Camelot and wielder of Excalibur, now taking magic lessons from his little sister.

"What's so funny?" Le Fay asked, tilting her head in curiosity.

Arthur shook his head, still chuckling. "Just thinking about how different this life is from my previous one," he explained, careful not to reveal too much. He had never told Le Fay about his past life, unsure of how she would react to the knowledge that her brother was a reincarnated hero from another world.

"Oh? Were you dreaming about being a great king or something?" Le Fay teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

If only she knew how close to the truth she was. Arthur smiled enigmatically. "Something like that," he replied, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

As he stood up and stretched, Arthur found himself marveling once again at the strange twist of fate that had brought him here. In this world, he was a descendant of King Arthur and Morgan le Fay, carrying their legendary bloodline. The irony wasn't lost on him – in his previous life, he had been King Arthur himself, and now he was learning magic from a descendant of his greatest adversary.

He glanced at Le Fay, who was now rummaging through his bookshelf, probably looking for the grimoire they'd been studying. For a moment, a ridiculous thought crossed his mind – what if Le Fay was also a reincarnation, like himself? What if she was the reborn spirit of Morgan le Fay?

The idea was so absurd that Arthur burst out laughing, startling Le Fay.

"What's gotten into you today, big brother?" she asked, looking at him with a mixture of confusion and amusement.

Arthur shook his head, trying to compose himself. "Nothing, nothing," he said, still chuckling. "Just had a silly thought."

Le Fay raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "Well, whatever it is, I hope it doesn't distract you from your lessons. We have a lot to cover today!"

As Arthur watched his sister's enthusiasm for teaching him magic, he couldn't help but feel a wave of affection. This Le Fay was nothing like the Morgan le Fay he had known in his previous life. She was kind, caring, and genuinely wanted to help him grow stronger. The thought that he had even momentarily worried about her being a reincarnation of his treacherous half-sister now seemed utterly ridiculous.

"Alright, little sister," Arthur said, ruffling Le Fay's hair affectionately. "Let's see what magical wonders you have in store for me today."

Le Fay beamed, holding up a thick, leather-bound book. "Today, we're going to work on elemental manipulation! I think you're ready to start combining different elements in your spells."

Arthur nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. In his previous life, he had relied on his sword and his leadership to protect his kingdom. Now, he was learning to harness the very forces of nature. It was a strange and exhilarating experience, one that constantly reminded him of how different this new life was.

As they settled down for the lesson, Arthur couldn't help but feel grateful for this second chance at life. Here, he wasn't burdened by the weight of a kingdom or the betrayals of those closest to him. Instead, he had a loving sister, a peaceful life, and the opportunity to explore abilities he had never possessed before.

"Are you ready, big brother?" Le Fay asked, her eyes shining with excitement.

Arthur was just about to respond when a familiar warmth began to emanate from deep within him. His eyes widened in surprise as he felt Avalon, his Noble Phantasm, stirring and manifesting outside his soul. The ethereal scabbard shimmered into view, its golden light casting a soft glow across the room.

Le Fay gasped, her eyes widening in shock. "Is that... Avalon?" she spluttered, taking a step back as she recognized the legendary artifact from their family's history. "But how is this possible? It's supposed to be a myth!"

Arthur barely heard her, his attention completely captured by the presence of Avalon. It had been years since he'd last felt its power so vividly. As if responding to his thoughts, Avalon began to point in a particular direction, its glow intensifying.

Then, before either Arthur or Le Fay could react further, an image began to form in the air before them. Initially, it showed a young woman with auburn hair and determined eyes—Shirou Emiya. Arthur recognized her instantly, memories of their shared past and love rushing back.

As they watched, the image of Shirou began to shift and transform. In her place appeared another striking figure: Rias Gremory, with her vivid crimson hair and piercing blue eyes. Both Arthur and Le Fay recognized her from descriptions and stories they had encountered.

"Rias Gremory?" Le Fay exclaimed, her voice tinged with surprise. "The heiress of the Gremory family?"

Arthur nodded slowly, confusion etched on his face. "Why would Avalon show me Rias?" he wondered aloud, trying to make sense of the sudden change.

He studied the image of Rias, searching for any clues or connections. An idea began to form in his mind—one that seemed both improbable and yet oddly fitting—but he chose to keep it to himself for now.

Le Fay watched him closely, sensing that there was more beneath the surface. "Arthur?" she prompted gently.

Arthur met her gaze, masking his deeper thoughts with a steady resolve. "I need to investigate why Avalon is showing Rias Gremory's image," he said carefully. "There must be a reason."

Le Fay nodded in understanding. "Then it seems we must find her," she agreed.

With Avalon's light pointing towards Kuoh Academy in Japan, Arthur hoped that his suspicions were right. That what awaited him at Kuoh Academy would be his lover, or at least her reincarnation. He mentally steeled his heart for the possibility that his suspicions could be wrong, but he hoped that didn't happen. What started to make him dread was the possibility that Rias Gremory could be the reincarnation of his past life's lover, but she might not remember him.

"If that really happens, then I will make you fall in love with me again, Shirou," he vowed.

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