Meanwhile, inside the castle as the gathering just began, Bokue's group encountered old acquaintances immediately upon entering the banquet hall.
"Yo! Rias, you made it! I was just wondering when you'd arrive."
A voice drifted across the spacious banquet hall. When everyone looked toward its source, they saw approaching a young man of towering, powerful build—possessing thick black hair, purple eyes, and features strikingly similar to the legendary first-generation Bael.
"Cousin Sairaorg, you came after all."
Rias blinked, unsurprised by the arrival.
Sairaorg—heir apparent of the Bael clan among the 72 Pillar high-class devil families. Also the undisputed number one among the 72 Pillars' younger generation.
Since his father—like Venelana—belonged to the Bael clan, Sairaorg was technically Venelana's nephew. Sirzechs's cousin. Also Rias's cousin.
"Haha, long time no see indeed!"
Meeting again after several months, Sairaorg couldn't help releasing hearty laughter. His gaze swept across those surrounding the red-haired girl before finally settling on Bokue.
"Brother-in-law too—been a while. Though you all really brought quite a crowd this time..."
He naturally referred to Kuroka, Asia, and the assembled girls.
After all, though other families' younger generation attending tonight's gathering had brought their peerages along, typically they'd only bring their [Queen] at most.
Of course, some brought entire peerages—though that was the minority.
But someone like Bokue? Minority within the minority.
A normal peerage including the [King] totaled sixteen people. Bokue had brought far more than one peerage's worth.
"We're all family—naturally we'd come together."
Bokue didn't consider this particularly unusual.
Sairaorg's eyebrow raised.
Everyone enjoys gossip to varying degrees.
Bokue not only brought everyone but also said "we're all family."
"Oh-ho? Brother-in-law, does that mean..."
The Bael clan's heir apparent stroked his chin with interest.
"That's right~"
Before Bokue could respond, Serafall—who'd arrived with them—bounced forward with a grin, making exaggerated scissors signs toward Sairaorg.
"Every single girl here is our dear Bokue-kun's harem group, you know?♡"
"Does that... include Lady Leviathan as well?"
Sairaorg made a rare joke.
With cousin Sirzechs providing that connection, plus Sairaorg's own accomplishments, his relationship with two of the demon realm's current Four Maou remained excellent—including Serafall.
To others, Serafall was the lofty Maou Leviathan. To Sairaorg, they were more like sister and brother.
Brothers teasing sisters about marriage prospects? Perfectly natural.
However, Sairaorg hadn't expected his teasing to make the Maou girl cover her cheeks while closing her eyes, sighing somewhat helplessly.
"Truth be told, not yet."
"I-I see..."
Sairaorg reflexively responded—but immediately sensed something off.
What does "not yet" mean? Wait a minute...
Just as Sairaorg prepared to pursue this further, intense arguing erupted from behind.
"Seems you've got a death wish, Zephyrdor."
"Hah? Just stating facts about you being an old virgin. You unwanted old hag!"
"Y-you say that again?!"
"Ho-oh, what? Got a problem with that?"
The banquet hall wasn't lacking attendees—most gathered in small clusters, chatting and conversing.
Yet being loud enough to drown out even the hall's music? A first.
Looking toward the argument's source, the disputants were a young man with spiky blue hair, fierce features, and lightning-white markings on his face—and a young woman with long ash-green hair, rather rigid appearance, glasses giving off intellectual vibes.
Both stood with fists clenched or arms crossed over chest, one hand adjusting glasses with disdainful eyes.
As if they'd start throwing punches any second.
Rias glanced once before pressing her temples.
"Seekvaira and Zephyrdor... I was just thinking how unscientific it was not hearing them argue at this gathering. Thought maybe one hadn't come. But they're at it again..."
"Normal, normal~ young devils gathering together always causes this."
Serafall didn't care remotely—even grinning gleefully like watching a show.
Sairaorg cracked his knuckles.
"Well, I should probably stop them."
Speaking, he crossed the banquet hall to reach the two on the verge of explosive confrontation. Cracking his knuckles loudly, he raised his voice slightly.
"Alright, please cease immediately—Agares household's princess Seekvaira, and Glasya-Labolas household's problem child Zephyrdor. Though sudden, this is your final warning. If you don't stop now, then I, Sairaorg, will become your opponent."
"Wh... Sairaorg, you..."
Hearing about facing Sairaorg as opponent, Seekvaira—who'd been nose-to-nose with Zephyrdor moments earlier—reflexively retreated half a step.
"Wh-who's a problem child?! Nonsense!"
Zephyrdor's mouth twitched while still shouting loudly.
Yet anyone could tell he'd backed down. His continued volume rode purely on argumentative momentum—so-called bluster masking cowardice.
Fortunately, he found his out the next second.
"Hmm? Wait... why does this hall smell like humans? Plus I'm catching whiffs of those shitty angels I hate most..."
Zephyrdor's sharp gaze swept like a hawk, finally landing on Rias's group not far behind Sairaorg.
"Oh? The Gremory household?"
He stepped forward once before stopping, glancing sideways at Sairaorg.
"Hey, just saying upfront—I'm not causing trouble. This is a gathering for young-generation devils. Yet humans and angels have infiltrated. You know what that means without me explaining."
"Hmm..."
Hearing this, Sairaorg didn't immediately respond—simply turning to glance at Bokue's group behind him before returning his gaze to Zephyrdor, revealing a somewhat subtle smile.
"Of course. Go ahead."
"Hmph..."
Though sensing something off, with things stated this plainly, Zephyrdor couldn't back down now.
Thus he strode aggressively toward Rias's group.
BOOM!
The next second, accompanied by explosive thunder, Zephyrdor transformed into a streaking light—shooting upward at fifteen-degree angles through the banquet hall's airspace before embedding heavily into the far wall. Eyes rolled back, covered in blood, consciousness lost instantly.
At the banquet hall entrance, Bokue casually lowered the leg he'd just finished kicking—still suspended mid-air—as if nothing had happened.
"Wake up. I'm not as easygoing as Sairaorg."
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