"Ladies and gentlemen, and my devil friends, welcome to the union between the Phenex and Gremory Clans!"
"Some of you may know who I am, some may find me unfamiliar, and some may disdain my status as an upstart."
"But here, my brothers and sisters, we can speak to each other as civilized nobles—whether we are friends or rivals. We are proud nobles! We have defied Heaven twice. We lost, yes, but we have never bent or bowed our knees to anyone. We still stand proudly!"
"This is who we are—the devils!"
"But why, my friends, my fellow devils, why? Why have some of you chosen to make peace with the crows? Why have you allowed them to trample over us? Where is our defiance of old?!" Riser roared in unwilling rage, his eyes blazing as he glared at the guests before him.
A hushed murmur echoed through the room.
Some lowered their heads in shame, others whispered nervously, while a few cheered on Riser's impassioned speech.
"Enough, Riser Phenex!" Sirzechs Lucifer slammed his fist onto the table, his voice filled with fury.
"If you wanted to break the engagement between you and Rias, you should have been honest from the start! There was no need for this emotional blackmail or nationalist rhetoric." His eyes locked onto Riser with murderous intent.
Riser was unfazed. He had expected this.
Sirzechs, the proud Lucifer, would not tolerate such direct challenge.
But what did Riser mean by involving their union in this discussion? Did he really think that Sirzechs, a powerful advocate for peace, would support war?
"My name is Adolf Riser," he said calmly, his voice steady and resolute.
"Lord Sirzechs, I speak for all of us. This has nothing to do with the engagement between me and Rias. I'm willing to offer myself at your service, to become your loyal vassal, to serve your proud house, and to marry Rias to strengthen our union. But, Lord Sirzechs, I demand three things from you. First, give Lady Leviathan your full support. Second, wipe the crows off the face of this world and reclaim our pride as devils. This is what I ask of you." Riser bowed deeply, a gesture of both respect and defiance.
The room fell into stunned silence. The devils around him were taken aback. Their gazes shifted as they regarded Riser with a newfound respect.
No longer did they see skepticism in his eyes, but admiration. For a man who was willing to offer himself entirely for the good of his race, to lower his noble head before another for the sake of unity, he had earned their respect.
They saw now that Riser's intentions were sincere. He wanted nothing more than to restore their pride, their strength, and their place in the world. His commitment to the devil race was undeniable.
Yet, despite the respect in their eyes, no one dared to switch sides just yet—not with Lord Sirzechs sitting at the head of the room, his expression darkening further at Riser's calm reply.
Sirzechs' face was unreadable. This time, however, he did not try to sabotage Riser's speech or mock him with sarcastic words.
Instead, he took a deep breath and addressed the room calmly.
It was clear to Sirzechs that Riser spoke with sincerity
The young devil was not merely a hot-headed rebel; he understood the gravity of the situation in the Underworld and was willing to work for the betterment of their race.
Sirzechs knew that if Riser continued down this path, it could lead to something far worse: war. But at the same time, he appreciated Riser's courage, his ambition, and his dedication to his people.
He didn't want to see the young devil go astray, to become a pawn in a conflict that could destroy everything they had built.
Riser was talented, and Sirzechs saw potential in him. He just needed to be guided, not pushed further into conflict.
The Underworld needed peace, and Sirzechs would work to ensure that peace prevailed.
"Riser Phenex. No, Adolf Riser. May I ask why you advocate for this war? Is it for pride? For revenge? Or for the sake of power? I fail to see any valid reason for this war to continue except to satisfy a thirst for vengeance. We gain nothing from it—no territory, no power, not even any significant wealth that could benefit us. What is the difference between us and crows if we perpetuate this war? They baited us by killing Sona Sitri, hoping to ignite our rage. And then what? Yes, we march into war, granting them the satisfaction of watching us react exactly as they planned. But after that, what do we achieve? Nothing. We only lose more than we could ever hope to gain." Sirzechs explained calmly, his crimson eyes locked onto the young Phenex before him.
"Did our ancestor, our creator, Lucifer Morningstar, need such trivial reasons to go to war, Lord Sirzechs? No, he did not! He fought for pride, for freedom, and for what he believed was right! But you—you don't grieve for Sona. You don't grieve for the fallen devils who sacrificed their lives in past wars. You don't grieve for a single moment when the crows overstep their bounds. Instead, you waste time searching for reasons to justify why we shouldn't fight! Indecision. Incompetence. And most importantly, compromise! You compromise because you have lost nothing! Tell me, Sirzechs—what if it were Rias in Sona's place? What if Rias had been in Kuoh with Sona when this happened? Would you still sit here, advocating for peace? Would you?!" Riser roared, his voice ringing out with defiant fury as his blazing eyes bore into the Crimson Satan.
His frustration and disappointment were palpable, and it was clear he rejected Sirzechs' reasoning with every fiber of his being.
Is this truly the Satan to whom he must swear allegiance?
"You overstep your bounds, Riser!" Sirzechs thundered, his composure shattering as his rage ignited.
The mention of Rias had struck a nerve.
The overwhelming power of destruction radiated from Sirzechs, blazing like a tempest, ready to strike the young Phenex down for his insolence.
Killing intent burned within his gaze, sending waves of dread through the room.
Yet, despite their fear, many devils present were visibly impressed by Riser's bold speech. One by one, they moved to stand between him and Sirzechs, their bodies trembling under the suffocating aura of destruction, yet their resolve unbroken.
They defied their Satan, protecting the young Phenex from his wrath.
Even Great Baal stepped forward, his calm presence a stark contrast to the tension in the room.
Placing a firm hand on Sirzechs' shoulder, he spoke with quiet authority.
"Enough, Sirzechs. Let's go home."
The Great Baal's words carried immense weight, and Sirzechs, though still seething, relented.
Taking a deep breath, he reigned in his power and declared coldly, "Your engagement with Rias is hereby nullified, Adolf Riser. Farewell. I hope you eventually find your own inner peace."
Without another word, Sirzechs turned and left, his loyal wife Grayfia following close behind.
Rias Gremory, her family, and their entourage departed shortly after, the weight of Sirzechs' final words hanging heavy in the air.
Riser watched them leave with a defiant gaze, his will unwavering despite the blatant hostility from the Crimson Satan.
"Young lad, you have my respect," Zekram Baal said, a rare grin spreading across his face as he patted Riser's shoulder in encouragement. "You remind me of the Sirzechs of old—the one who fought to the bitter end for the sake of our race. But now? He's grown too old, too comfortable in his position, and far too soft."
Zekram sighed, his expression tinged with regret. With nothing more to say, he turned and departed.
Riser remained standing, his resolve firm and his path now clearer than ever.