That night, the scene inside
Kuoh Academy
looked like something torn from another world.
The dark buildings were lit by
sacred seals
and faintly glowing
wards
, where the auras of
devils
,
angels
,
fallen
, and
Shinigami
intertwined in a strange, volatile mix of energy.
The air was thick and charged, pulsing with a power unbearable to human eyes, while remnants of conflicting spiritual energy danced through the atmosphere, circling the academy as if waiting for the moment of explosion.
At the center of the grand hall stood a massive
round table of black crystal
, surrounded by ornate chairs engraved with the symbols of each faction.
Across the walls,
barrier spells
pulsed faintly—preventing any leakage of power or spatial interference.
The atmosphere was a fusion of tension and restrained respect, as though everyone present understood that a single wrong move could ignite a war impossible to stop.
Ren
stood silently behind
Suì-Fēng
, watching without expression.
Her arms were crossed, her cold face betraying no hint of emotion. The bluish lights reflected in her
golden eyes
as she stared unwaveringly at the three faction leaders before her.
Ren's mind, meanwhile, was operating quietly in the background—tracking every movement, every glance, every ripple of energy in the room, like a living surveillance device.
"So… after all this work, I'm just here to stand behind her like a silent shadow?"
He muttered inwardly with icy detachment, before shifting his gaze toward the others.
To the left of the table sat
Sirzechs Lucifer
. His calm features did nothing to hide the aura of authority that radiated from his presence. That familiar smile of his concealed sharp political intellect.
Behind him stood
Rias Gremory
, her crimson hair gleaming like demon fire, her face solemn. Beside her was
Sona Sitri
, her cool gaze quietly analyzing every possible outcome in the room.
On the opposite side lounged
Azazel
, the leader of the fallen angels, dressed casually as always, leaning lazily on his chair with eyes glinting in mischievous cunning.
Behind him stood
Yuma Amano
, whose aura had grown noticeably more mature since their last encounter, and beside her
Kalawarna
, her mysterious smile a mix of allure and disdain.
To the right sat
Archangel Michael
, embodiment of heavenly purity. His mere presence seemed to lighten the air, and his voice carried a calm serenity that could not be faked.
Behind him stood
Irina
, cheerful and confident, while
Xenovia
remained in a battle-ready stance even in stillness—poised to strike down anyone in an instant.
And finally—
the Shinigami side.
Suì-Fēng
represented them with her usual iron composure, the kind of woman who could make the air freeze when she moved.
Behind her,
Ren
stood in utter silence—her personal shadow. His presence there was no coincidence; it was the result of an entire month of covert operations—purging dangerous sites and eliminating every threat that could disrupt this conference before it began.
But what drew everyone's attention wasn't any of the four faction leaders.
It was the
two figures
seated slightly apart from the main table—symbols of both balance and chaos:
Sekiryūtei
, the Red Dragon Emperor's host. Although the Emperor himself was known as the
Red Dragon of Domination
, his current vessel was nothing but a brainless fool ruled by lust.
Beside him sat
Hakuryūkō
, with
silver hair
and
piercing eyes
of the same shade, wearing a faintly mocking smile filled with confidence and superiority—perfectly befitting the host of the
White Dragon of Supremacy
.
Neither of them belonged fully to any faction, and so they had been invited as
independent powers
. Their presence carried a clear message:
"If anything happens, no one will take responsibility for them."
Ren gave them a passing glance before returning his gaze to the table.
The energy in the hall flickered for an instant, as though the world itself held its breath.
Then Michael's calm voice rose, filled with sacred authority:
"Let us begin, then… the peace conference between the four factions."
"The
Heaven faction
first wishes to express its gratitude to the
Shinigami faction
for handling the
Stray Exorcist
incidents and even recovering three of the
Excalibur blades
."
Michael's words were sincere—untainted by politics, spoken from genuine feeling.
"The
Fallen Angels
share that sentiment as well, for your swift action against the rebel
Kokabiel
, who sought to reignite the Great War."
Azazel added with rare seriousness, his usual lazy grin nowhere to be seen.
A heavy silence filled the room, as if Azazel's words had opened the way for the meeting's first genuine breath.
Sirzechs nodded slowly, his calm tone carrying both respect and solemnity:
"We too owe our thanks to the
Shinigami
. Without their timely intervention, the
Devils'
losses in Kuoh Town would have been disastrous… and we might not be sitting here today."
A soft murmur spread among the seats. The charged aura around the table began to ease slightly—but Ren could feel it clearly: that calm was nothing but a façade.
Behind those diplomatic smiles, every word was weighed, and every movement watched with lethal precision.
Suì-Fēng
rose slowly—her motion alone enough to silence the room.
Her gaze swept over the assembly with unflinching resolve, and when she spoke, her voice was low but firm, carrying a tone that left no room for argument:
"Eliminating the rebels was not a favor. It was a duty.
The purpose of the
Gotei 13
is to maintain balance among the three realms—not to protect any single faction.
Nevertheless, we appreciate your words."
She spoke as if delivering a military report—void of emotion, yet her presence alone commanded reverence. Her strength didn't come from overwhelming aura, but from a quiet, crushing pressure that demanded attention.
At that moment,
Ren
noticed several glances directed briefly toward him—perhaps realizing that he was the one who had actually carried out those missions they were praising.
But he didn't so much as twitch. He remained standing behind Suì-Fēng, his posture straight, his face blank—showing no interest in anything being said.
Even
Azazel
, ever the trickster, gave him a sidelong glance and murmured:
"So this is the boy who took down
Freed
and
Kokabiel
… not bad at all."
Sirzechs
smiled faintly and replied:
"Power like that in the hands of the
Shinigami faction
could shift many balances… if they ever chose to act."
In the back, Ren's eyes narrowed slightly as a calm voice echoed within him:
"So that's it… just a chess piece to them."
He showed no reaction outwardly, but the familiar disgust stirred within—disgust toward politics and toward those polite words dripping with hidden ambition.
'My worries were justified…'
thought
Sirzechs
gloomily, maintaining his mask of serenity before the others.
'If he awakens his latent magical power, he'll become a real problem… Unfortunately, dealing with him won't be easy—especially with
Gotei 13's protection
and, worse yet, the trace of
Amaterasu's Divine Protection
I can sense upon him.'
"…"
Sensing the ill intent directed his way,
Ren
instinctively turned toward the source—only to find
Sirzechs
smiling gently at him, like an older brother watching over a younger one.
That smile—so full of false warmth—made something twist deep inside Ren.
A wave of
disgust
coursed through him from head to toe.
...
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