Chapter 31 (Patreon)

“Hello, Chiba-kun.” Gremory-san smiled in response to my greeting. “We don’t see you at the Occult Research Club very often.”

Despite the warm welcome, she seemed unusually tense. Displeased, even. For a moment, I thought it was because of me—or, more precisely, because I’d decided to teleport here with Issei, who had just collapsed into a plush armchair at the Gremory clan’s “headquarters.”

But as I bowed and offered the head of our allied clan a polite greeting, I realized the room had been missing its usual carefree air before I arrived. Issei clearly hadn’t been mistaken: Gremory-san was dealing with some kind of trouble.

Perhaps it had something to do with the other guest sitting around the tea table with the redhead’s servants.

She was beautiful, though hers was a mature beauty, different from that of the girls in my clan or Gremory’s. She didn’t look old in the slightest. Quite the opposite. But I’d known enough beauties a thousand years old and counting to tell a young girl from a mature woman with an equally youthful face.

She had classical European features, with the faintest hint of something Eastern that only added to her charm. Her silver hair was arranged in three braids: two smaller ones falling at either side of her face, and a thick one down her back. Her steel-gray eyes suited her, as did the maid’s dress. Everything about her fit together remarkably well.

“Grayfia, this is Sona’s servant, Chiba Taro-kun. He’s her Rook,” Gremory-san introduced me.

“A pleasure to meet you.” The woman gave me a polite nod, but her voice was utterly indifferent. In fact, there seemed to be a chill in the air around her.

In every sense. Both my senses as a martial artist and my demonic senses told me the silver-haired woman was immensely powerful, and there was a distinct frost to that power. It wasn’t the familiar chill of yin. This carried a trace of something… greater. Something close to an absolute. Impressive.

“It is an honor for this humble servant to behold Grayfia Lucifuge-san herself, the Invincible Queen of Sirzechs Lucifer-sama.” I bowed respectfully, pressing my open palm against my fist, without waiting for Gremory-san to introduce her.

It wasn’t hard to recognize the woman sitting at the Occult Research Club’s tea table with Gremory’s servants: Lucifer’s only wife, Rias Gremory’s sister-in-law, and mother to the son of one of the rulers of the Underworld’s demon realm.

“Oh, so you know her.” Issei’s Mistress sounded almost… dismissive. It wasn’t aimed at me, judging by the glance she cast at her older brother’s Queen. It seemed I’d been right: the strange atmosphere in the club had something to do with the President’s sister-in-law.

“My Brilliant Mistress, in her unfailing wisdom, insisted that I learn the names and distinguishing features of everyone connected to the Four Devils, as well as the close relatives of the heads of the Seventy-Two Pillars.” I offered a polite, neutral smile. Whatever the tension, it was Gremory family business. Souring relations with Sirzechs Lucifer’s Queen for no reason would be stupid, especially when the woman, though hardly friendly, had been perfectly courteous. “For a dutiful servant to disgrace his Mistress by failing to recognize demons of such standing would be a mortal sin.”

“Well said,” Grayfia Lucifuge remarked. For the first time, a faint spark of warmth and approval appeared in her indifferent eyes.

“Thank you, Lucifuge-san.” I gave her a brief bow, then turned to the redhead. “Gremory-san, I took the liberty of coming here uninvited with Issei to bring you some tea. Forgive my thoughtlessness. I didn’t consider that I might be interrupting. I’ll leave at once.”

Unfortunately, I had no other play. I could try to interest them in the tea that Akeno Himejima, the Gremory clan’s Queen, liked so much. Either way, I needed to apologize and make it clear I was ready to get the hell out. Asking what was going on was out of the question. Even the stupidest member of any intelligent species would recognize that as a spectacular display of bad manners.

“Tea?” To my surprise, it wasn’t only Akeno who showed interest. She rose to her feet, and Lucifer’s Queen also regarded me with sudden attention.

“With your permission, I’ll leave it with you, Himejima-san.” I drew four metal tins from my spatial bracelet.

They looked remarkably like the ones I vaguely remembered from my very first life. Cookies used to come in tins like these, and grandmothers loved filling them with spools of thread, needles, thimbles—all their sewing bits and bobs. I was surprised to discover they had them in Japan, too, and often used them for exactly the same purpose as they did in the distant West.

We had a shitload at home, so I’d pinched a few with Dad’s tacit approval. Mom didn’t even seem to notice they were gone. These days I kept my tea in them, saving the fancier packaging for my Mistress. The Occult Research Club could make do. I was practically dropping by as a neighbor—though I had remembered to change into formal clothes.

“Of course, of course.” Akeno Himejima gave me a charming smile. Until I mentioned the tea, she’d been sitting on an exceedingly comfortable-looking sofa beside Koneko-chan and Yuto-kun.

The Knight and Rook looked ill at ease, too. Kiba and I had nodded to each other in wordless greeting when I arrived, and even then I’d noticed that his usually sincere, welcoming smile seemed a little strained. As for Koneko… kawaii was worth a thousand words. She sat there nibbling on a chocolate bar and somehow managed to look like… um… an adorably unapproachable kitten?

“The top two tins contain ordinary tea,” I told the Queen, returning my attention to her. “You already know the first variety. I only harvested the second one recently. The student council has tried it, and Momo-chan and Tsubaki-san declared it acceptable. I’d like to hear your opinion as a connoisseur.”

“I’d be delighted.” Her smile was so gentle that someone else might have taken her for an angel in the flesh. But I remembered that the Gremory clan’s Queen preferred assignments far removed from peace and pacifism. That sort of preference… took a certain temperament. “And the other two?”

“Another new variety. I only finished processing it last night.” I decided to compete with Himejima-san for the gentlest smile and plastered an expression of boundless goodwill, touched with a hint of regret, across my face. “Unfortunately, it has to be brewed in a particular way. That’s the main reason I dared come to the Occult Research Club uninvited today—I wanted to show you how. Brew it wrong, and the tea turns into something absolutely foul.”

“Even Sitri-san hasn’t tried it yet?” More than surprise broke through her soft, friendly manner. There was genuine excitement there. Faint, but I knew how to read people… and young demons. I caught it all the same.

“Not yet, but I doubt my Mistress would be angry over something so trivial,” I said, understanding what she was getting at. “In any case, I don’t want to intrude…”

“Rias…” Himejima-san turned to her Mistress before I could finish.

“I don’t think we have time for that,” Lady Lucifuge said in Gremory-san’s place, shaking her head with slight but genuine regret.

“That’s all right.” The redhead, who had apparently been about to refuse her Queen herself, lifted her chin stubbornly and shot her sister-in-law a displeased look. “I doubt anything will happen here that I’d want to hide from Sona. So, Chiba-kun, if you wouldn’t mind…”

“Of course, Gremory-san.” I gave a slight bow and completely ignored the faint displeasure in Mrs. Lucifer’s eyes. She could save those glares for her husband.

At any other time, I’d probably have found a polite way to leave. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t have given myself a reason to stay in the first place. But first, I very much wanted the encounter I’d foreseen: a meeting with a powerful opponent. And second, refusing now would offend the Gremory heiress no matter how I did it. My choice of words might change how badly, but it wouldn’t change the fact that THIS old building on academy grounds belonged to Rias Gremory’s clan. She and Sona-san even shared authority over the school itself.

With all due respect to the Invincible Queen, Grayfia was a guest here—and, as I understood it, a representative of Sirzechs Lucifer. Ignore Gremory’s wishes because of one displeased look from Lucifuge? No. Definitely not. That would do the relationship between the two childhood friends no favors.

So I could hardly refuse the redhead who had stolen my dear friend Issei’s heart. Not now, when my Mistress wasn’t here. One look from Sona-san, and I wouldn’t give a damn if all four Devils of the Underworld were in the room. Even Serafall Leviathan-sama was, to me, simply the respected sister of my Brilliant Mistress. Her word would never carry more weight than the Sitri heiress’s.

Still smiling politely at the Occult Research Club’s vice president, who practically radiated warmth, elegance (and impatience), I followed her to the place where she performed the sacred rite of brewing tea.

“I think I’ll demonstrate first and explain as I go,” I began quietly, opening both tins. “The tea is in the one on the right. The variety is called Golden Bloom. There are a hundred little balls, each about the size of a pinky fingernail—enough for a hundred brews. You can steep it in boiling water, but it won’t taste the way it should. Though I do recommend trying that once: I’ve known a few people who preferred Golden Bloom brewed with plain water.”

“And these…” The Gremory clan’s Queen nodded at my explanation, then looked at the second tin, which was filled with bright yellow dried petals.

“Sunwort petals,” I said. “A decoction made from them is the key to brewing Golden Bloom properly. On their own, they’re also useful to martial artists who practice yang-based arts and have too much cold yin qi built up in their meridians. For anyone who isn’t a martial artist, a properly prepared Sunwort decoction simply warms you up.

“The only drawback is the preparation. It isn’t exactly difficult, but it does require attention. For example, the petals mustn’t steep in boiling water for more than ten seconds. Any longer, and you’ll end up with a mild poison. Nothing serious for a demon—I checked. Aching joints, a headache, a moderate fever. It all passes in three or four hours. A mortal would have it much worse: a couple of days of fever, with a temperature reaching forty degrees Celsius, guaranteed.”

“Oh…” Himejima-san’s look at the dried petals held less caution than interest. I suspected she already had a few candidates in mind to test an oversteeped batch on.

“For the tea, though, the decoction is prepared in a silver vessel.” I drew a small silver saucepan from my spatial bracelet. “That matters because…”

I never got to finish. Behind me, where the rest of the Occult Research Club—and their guest—sat in an awkward silence, I sensed a disturbance in demonic power. Gremory-san’s silence felt more like displeasure, while Lady Lucifuge seemed resigned and indifferent.

Teleportation. I recognized the spell.

And teleportation it was, complete with a few extra effects. First came tongues of flame, which looked rather beautiful. Then a wave of heat and burning sparks spread from the teleportation circle. I caught sight of the Phenex family crest within it.

What a lame way to show off, I thought with a grimace, pushing the stranger’s magic away from Akeno and me with a wave of qi. I wasn’t about to embarrass myself by putting out smoldering clothes. Besides, I hadn’t sewn my formal robes just to walk around with holes burned through them. I’d have to make some decent fabric that could stand up to this sort of thing.

“Thank you,” Akeno Himejima murmured. I gave her a slight nod. I doubted she’d have had any trouble protecting herself, but I was a gentleman, goddammit!

“Phew! It’s been a while since I visited the human world!” declared the culprit, emerging from his pyromantic special effects.

He was tall by Japanese standards, around a meter eighty. A blond with short hair. I’d have called his haircut neat if not for the tufts sticking out and giving him a distinctly… birdlike look. Perhaps he wanted to emphasize his family’s connection to the legendary phoenixes. Blue eyes, a crimson suit, black shoes. Fairly stylish, I supposed, especially with his lean, athletic build.

To my eye, though, the white shirt unbuttoned four buttons down ruined the effect. It made him look like some wannabe gangster kid trying to seem cool. He immediately shoved his hands into his pockets, too, like a middle schooler. Untuck the shirt, and he’d be the spitting image of a cocky school brat.

And then there was his face. Or his fucking mug, rather. Arrogant, with a smug little grin.

I didn’t much like looking at mugs like his. They were made for punching.

And, as a final treat, there was the feel of his power…

Disappointing. I sighed inwardly and gave him a respectful bow. Himejima-san bowed beside me.

The third son of House Phenex—and from what my Mistress had told me, this was clearly him—felt weaker than Rias Gremory. Not by much, but I could sense the difference. He gave off a faint aura of the legendary phoenixes, too. And that was it. Nothing else.

I’d expected more from an “adult” demon who competed in the Rating Games. Instead… what a dud. Grayfia Lucifuge was another matter. She practically radiated danger. I’d wager all my cultivation against a rotten fish that, if that maid fought the feathered fop, she’d turn him into a thin smear on the floor.

“Chiba-kun.” Gremory-san’s Queen spoke softly, with a hint of reproach. Apparently I hadn’t kept my expression in check. My disappointment at the sight of that rooster, still waiting to be roasted, must have shown on my face.

“Yes, sorry, Himejima-san.” I turned back to teaching her how to prepare the tea, writing off the Gremory clan’s guest. This fellow was definitely not the opponent I’d foreseen defeating me in battle.

“My beautiful Rias, I’ve come for you.” A nearby mirror let me see the third Phenex son break into a grin behind my back. A wide grin, as syrupy as molasses mixed with condensed milk. He clearly didn’t give a damn about Gremory-san’s expression. She looked as though she’d just seen a leprous rat with syphilis. “Well? Shall we go look at the ceremonial hall? I’d like to get everything done as soon as possible!”

Yeah… as people would one day say on those internets of yours, that opening line made me cringe hard.

Almost as soon as the bird began his performance, I regretted trying to be clever. Fucking karma. I suspected Gremory-san would also have liked to take back her decision to defy Lady Lucifuge. I could practically feel her embarrassment before everyone in the room, flaring up like a bonfire doused in gasoline.

While I showed Akeno-san how to brew Golden Bloom, the culprit put on a full display of everything that makes a man look bad. The complete set. He bragged about how fucking awesome he was, sneered at ordinary humans and the mortal world in general, and kept grabbing Gremory-san’s hands, which… just…

Even Kolyan, nicknamed Pulp—a “big shot” in my neighborhood back in my first life, according to Kolyan himself—used to call “ladies’ men” like that pathetic little shits.

Ugh. Damn. Ugh, fuck that. Luckily, I had my back to the scene and could simply look away from the mirror, leaving me free to grimace in disgust. Only after I saw Akeno Himejima doing the same, of course.

And this Riser hadn’t even considered that his behavior might be obnoxious. So this was what the worst sort of demon aristocrat looked like: arrogant, full of himself, convinced the whole world revolved around him. Which was ridiculous. It revolved around me!

Yes, I was much the same in some ways. I wasn’t ashamed of it. But at least my bragging, pride, and ego were backed by strength. By achievements of my own. Besides, many lifetimes ago I’d learned how to behave around other people—how to tell the difference between being among my own, appearing in public, and facing enemies. I’d been taught.

Different Masters had taught that lesson in different ways. Some gave long, tedious lectures. Some beat me half to death. Others merely clicked their tongues in contempt and looked at me like I was shit. So yes, I was a conceited bastard who boasted about his age, experience, and strength… well, the strength I’d had before and would have again. But I tried to keep myself in check.

And I certainly would never behave like Riser. I’m a grown-up, poot-poot. I play grown-up Rating Games, shart-shart. I understand my grown-up duty to carry on the line of pureblood High-Class Demons, prrt-prrt. So I’ll behave like a grown-up—without a shred of restraint.

Oh, right. This infernal macho man had come to “express his tender feelings” for Rias Gremory, his fiancée. Their elders had decided the two of them would marry, and Riser, like a REAL grown-up, was fucking delighted. He practically gleamed with smug satisfaction.

“It’s ready to serve.” I finished demonstrating how to brew a tea straight out of the cultivation worlds. I’d done it all with demonic magic: heating the water, cooling the Sunwort decoction almost to freezing, heating it again, then carefully controlling the steeping of the tea itself. “Notice that the tea is golden now. The ball of leaves has unfurled into something like a yellow flower tinged with emerald, and it’s resting at the bottom of the pot instead of floating. That means we did it right.”

“Ara, ara, Chiba-kun.” Surprise was plain in the Gremory Queen’s soft, slightly drawn-out voice this time. “That’s less like brewing tea and more like alchemy… And yes, this Golden Bloom… I haven’t tasted it yet, but I can already tell it’s far from ordinary tea.”

“That’s right.” I spoke as quietly as Himejima-san so we wouldn’t disturb the others in the room. Her words pleased me, though. I’d spent several hours adapting the brewing method for Golden Bloom to demonic magic.

That had cost the drink a little of its potency, but never mind. I would brew it properly for my Mistress. That was why I’d been so willing to “treat” the Gremory clan to it first. True Golden Bloom, brewed with almost the skill of a tea master and, naturally, with qi instead of demonic magic, would be rather different. Better.

And what one of my Masters could do with this tea… now that was inexplicable alchemy. Drink his version regularly, once a month, and even an ordinary mortal could live to two hundred, remaining sound in body and mind until the very end. As for what the Master’s Golden Bloom did for certain cultivators’ progress… Yes, it was practically a miracle elixir. No wonder so many dreamed of attending his tea ceremonies.

More than once, I’d seen members of the imperial family and the heads of sects, clans, and great martial arts schools gather for tea at our modest little mansion. In truth, it was a palace complex, but Master shamelessly played everything down and called it “modesty.” Just a gathering of old farts who could bring about an actual Apocalypse on the continent if they felt like it.

Meanwhile, Himejima-san poured the tea into a cup. She picked it up, brought it carefully to her face, and closed her eyes as she breathed in the aroma. Then she took a tiny sip.

“This is… exquisite…” she whispered a few seconds later.

Yes, hearing that from a connoisseur like the Priestess of Lightning was a pleasure. Even my clan recognized her as the foremost tea expert among the demons of Kuoh.

“I’m glad you like it.” I smiled at the Queen sincerely. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call me.”

“Oh, Chiba-kun.” The smile she gave me, and the look that came with it, were full of pure gratitude. “I’ll come see you myself if I do, assuming you don’t mind.”

“Whatever’s convenient for you.” I gave a slight shrug. “Now, if you and Gremory-san have no objections…”

I glanced meaningfully at the door leading out of the Occult Research Club’s lounge.

“Yes, of course.” Himejima-san cast a quick look over her shoulder and grimaced faintly. “At another time, I’d invite you to stay with us, but…”

“I understand.” I nodded.

I did. Behind our backs, Riser was still showing off as though he’d single-handedly beaten one of the Underworld’s Kings in a duel. Or all four of them at once.

Hardly the time or place for a tea party. Besides, I doubted I could sit through the entire theater of the absurd unfolding here.

“Tea this good, and to offer it to that…” I barely caught the Queen’s murmur.

A second later, though, she was the very picture of a yamato nadeshiko, the ideal Japanese woman. She carried the tray of cups and the teapot with calm grace, a charming smile on her face.

Yeah, as if I believe that, I thought with a snort, following her back. Time to say goodbye and get the hell out. Issei seemed determined to prove Riser wasn’t the only one who could make everyone in the room cringe. The bird had boasted that his entire chess team consisted of girls who also happened to be in his harem. My classmate was suffering an enormous bout of envy. I swear, tears were about to start rolling down his cheeks. I hoped he’d hold himself together. I hadn’t been working with him for nothing.

As for my skepticism about Himejima-san’s image… I’ve already mentioned the sort of assignments the Gremory clan’s Queen prefers. And I’d finally remembered who that barely perceptible cruel glint in her eyes reminded me of.

A few lifetimes ago, I had a daughter. She carried herself the same way: unfailing courtesy, impeccable manners, a charming smile, and a warm gaze. An absolute sweetheart. None of that stopped my little girl from killing her enemies brutally, with sadistic delight, without ever dropping the image of the perfect woman.

I remember the puzzled look her future husband gave me when he came to ask for her hand and saw the sympathy in my eyes. Well… he had only himself to blame. The man had eyes, and he’d courted my precious girl for a full three decades. So a couple of his older brothers, who stood between him and becoming head of his clan, had died. These things happen. They’d been on dreadful terms anyway. All the pretty maids fled his household, it’s true, but… he’d made his bed and now he had to lie in it.

He should have been grateful those girls had survived at all. Grateful to me, specifically: I’d spoken to my daughter and persuaded her not to go too far, at least for the first century after the wedding.

Yeah… she took after her mother, I’m telling you. It was only when my daughter flew the family nest and started getting up to her own antics that I realized why all the maids in my house had been rather plain, and all my disciples had been men. No, girls had asked to study under me too. They’d simply changed their minds very quickly. To be fair to my obliviousness, I hadn’t given a damn. A cultivator should be busy fiddling with his dantian, not drooling over pretty girls.

“Goodbye, Gremory-san, Lucifuge-san, Phenex-san.” I waited until the conversation paused as the Queen served the tea, then gave them a brief bow.

“Goodbye.” The red-haired heiress of the Great House glanced at me with a hint of guilt. “Give Sona my regards.”

“Of course.” I smiled faintly and caught a brief nod from Lady Lucifuge, who was studying her cup of tea with interest.

The third Phenex son gave me an indifferent glance that lingered briefly on my clothes. His interest didn’t last even a couple of seconds, though. Unusual attire was hardly enough to surprise a demon; in their long lives, members of my new race could visit every corner of the globe.

His indifference didn’t bother me in the least. Quite the opposite. In my experience, the attention of conceited idiots could be a real pain in the ass.

Rias watched Chiba Taro-kun leave the club lounge, feeling a little guilty. She regretted giving in to her own petulance. She’d wanted to say something to spite Grayfia, and had only made things worse for herself. It wasn’t as though Sona’s servant’s opinion mattered that much to her, but still… it was embarrassing. She wouldn’t show it, yet shame churned inside her alongside her anger.

She shouldn’t have arranged the meeting for a time when her whole clan would be at the club. She shouldn’t have asked Chiba-kun to stay. No, she shouldn’t have. She, Grayfia, and that idiot Riser could have discussed everything among themselves. Three people would have been enough.

Then she wouldn’t have had to see those masks on her servants’ faces.

Koneko looked indifferent, as always. Someone else might have believed the former nekomata cared more about her chocolate bar than the Occult Research Club’s guests. But Rias could see that she hated what was happening. Her eyes were slightly narrowed, her movements too smooth, her whole body tense despite her efforts to hide it. Like a cat ready to spring at whatever had irritated her.

Kiba, too, was tense and irritated beneath his mask of composure, as ready as if a fight were about to begin. He tried not to show it. From time to time, he even attempted to explain what was happening to Hyodo.

Akeno… Her Queen was furious. Behind every graceful movement, every charming smile and warm glance, Rias sensed her friend’s thirst for blood. Akeno was showing the most restraint of them all, but if Rias attacked Riser, she would be the first to back her up, even without an order.

And then there was Hyodo. Her newest servant, her Pawn, was the most contradictory member of her clan. One moment, the Gremory heiress wanted to hug him for his sincere outrage at her “groom’s” behavior. The next, she wanted to smack Issei over the head for the nonsense coming out of his mouth.

On the other hand, Rias could say with certainty that everything the boy said came from the heart. He meant it when he tried to defend her from Riser’s rudeness, when he grew furious at the way her guest grabbed her hands, tried to stroke her hair, or slipped an arm around her with such familiarity. His outrage was sincere. But so was his envy of the third Phenex son’s clan that doubled as a harem—a clan Issei hadn’t even seen yet.

Rias valued his honesty and lack of guile as much as his Sacred Gear. Perhaps a little more.

She valued his persistence and hard work, too.

Because of the “resident” in Hyodo’s left arm, he had almost no demonic energy to spare and couldn’t use a teleportation circle on his own. Did that upset him? Of course it did. The young reincarnated demon took his magical “inadequacy” hard.

But had he given up? No! Just as he’d once delivered flyers, he now raced around town on his bicycle, carrying out demonic contracts. Granted, his assignments were… absurd. Then again, Koneko’s were every bit as absurd, so the Gremory heiress found it amusing, though she managed not to let it show too much.

And there was his physical training. Rias couldn’t have been more pleased with her servant’s efforts. She wasn’t thinking only of the morning exercises they did together, either. Hyodo had taken the initiative to make arrangements with his classmate, Sona’s servant Chiba Taro, and now went to Taro’s home in the Underworld to train three times a week.

The results… A couple of days ago, Rias had compared the way her servant looked just after his reincarnation with the way he looked now. She’d been impressed. He was so… athletic, with such well-defined muscles. All those sessions that left Hyodo wrung out like a lemon were paying off. Training with Sona’s servant had exceeded every expectation.

Rias had even wanted to thank the reincarnated demon from the allied clan somehow, but…

Sona had received the idea coolly. No—icily. Her childhood friend and, in a way, rival had asked her not to try to “seduce” HER Chiba Taro. Those were her words: “He’s MY servant. I’ll decide that myself.”

It was… strange. Rias had heard her friend say “my Pawn,” “my Knight,” and “my servant” before. But she’d noticed more than once that, whenever they talked about Sona’s new Rook, Sona put far too much emphasis on mine. And the way she looked at Rias then was… intense? Meaningful? Pointed? Yes, very pointed indeed.

Usually, the redhead thought of her friend’s obvious jealousy with amusement. Sona’s new Rook interested her as a piece, not as a young man. The Gremory heiress had yet to truly find herself looking at boys that way—whether they’d been reincarnated as demons or born into the race. As for the latter…

One such demon was currently busy explaining “the realities of the adult world to a silly little girl.” Idiot.

“As for reincarnated demons… Take your servants, for example. They’re talented and promising, with the potential to become as powerful as we are. And that’s how they push us purebloods aside. Plenty of nobles surround themselves with large numbers of strong reincarnated demons. And that’s fine. These newly minted warriors matter to our shared future, too.”

Rias listened in silence. During a recent conversation with Sona, she’d heard an excellent saying: “Never argue with idiots. They’ll drag you down to their level and beat you with experience.”

The same tedious drivel about purity of blood. The redhead had heard it many times from people who understood neither the need for reincarnation nor the principle behind it.

Humans, Fallen Angels, yokai—everyone who took an Evil Piece into themselves changed their nature. They were demons. According to Rias’s brother, Ajuka Beelzebub always rolled his eyes in irritation when he heard someone call a reincarnated demon “not a pureblood.” There was no difference between being born a demon and becoming one. Period. Biologically, Issei and Kiba, who had once been human, Koneko, who had been a nekomata, and Akeno… were no different from that pompous fop Riser.

In strength, yes, there was a difference. Most reincarnated demons began as “Low-Class” demons and had to work their way toward greater power. But even that was hardly a problem. A demon gained strength little by little even without training himself to exhaustion. Eternal life meant that sooner or later, any reincarnated demon would reach the middle ranks and beyond.

Whether such lazy demons would ever amount to much was another question. But Kings didn’t usually choose dead weight for their servants. On the contrary, clan leaders tried to recruit exceptional, talented people from other races: those with impressive potential, or some rare and useful trait. Sometimes an inborn one.

Koneko’s senjutsu, for example. Her children, though “pureblood” demons, would inherit their mother’s aptitude for it. Someone born a yokai could pass on the potential to learn youjutsu to their children. And so on.

The Evil Pieces also helped ensure that servants stayed loyal to their Master. There were nuances, but the vast majority of clans were strong, close teams whose members took mutual loyalty and trust for granted.

So why did “purebloods” who talked like Riser place so much emphasis on reincarnated demons being a threat? On their supposedly pushing the aristocracy aside?

Simple: influence and politics. Nothing more. The old, powerful families didn’t want to see anyone who hadn’t been born a demon rise to the top. But reincarnated demons were climbing toward those heights—and at a pace that made some people nervous.

Some of them had once been mortal, and mortals, unlike beings who lived forever, were used to being in a hurry. While Riser wasted his time recruiting as many beauties as POSSIBLE for his clan… his harem, a former mortal given a set of Evil Pieces would think first about effectiveness. And move fast.

While young purebloods, adults though they supposedly were, sat around doing fuck-all, a former mortal trained until he was ready to drop. Deep down, he hadn’t yet grasped that he no longer needed to hurry. He didn’t have to cram the progress an ordinary demon made over a hundred, two hundred, or three hundred years into a decade of grueling work.

So yes, some purebloods disliked reincarnated demons. Often because they simply ENVIED how quickly they grew stronger, then scrambled to invent reasons why they themselves were superior. Power from birth? Yes. The wealth and influence of old families? Certainly. The skills and secrets their Houses had accumulated? Of course.

But none of that made purebloods better. Those were advantages, nothing more. Enormous advantages—Rias agreed on that. So enormous, in fact, that the truly powerful families among the Seventy-Two Pillars of the Underworld never seriously regarded reincarnated demons as a threat. That didn’t stop some stupid, cowardly, spineless fools from howling in panic at the successes of the “new demons.”

And again—BUT!!! This wasn’t a question of other species threatening the demon race. It was simply competition among members of the same people. Rias understood that. Sona understood it too. That understanding was part of why they were here in Kuoh.

There was no shame in learning, and they were learning from mortals: how to work hard, how to live with urgency, how to push themselves to grow. Purebloods could sneer all they liked at “mayflies who burn out after a paltry eight or nine decades,” but humans had something to teach them. Competition ought to be fair. It hadn’t been under the Past Lords, when anyone they considered a threat was held back, ground into the dirt, and stripped of everything—even their life.

Sirzechs spoke of that often. It was the road to stagnation and decline. Purebloods did need to compete with reincarnated demons, yes. But they had to do it by becoming better themselves, not by preventing others from rising. Only then could they proudly call themselves aristocrats of the Underworld. Otherwise…

What kind of High-Class Demon were you if, with every advantage on your side, you feared someone who had entered this world as a servant? Worse still, if you lost to him?

“But we can’t allow pure blood to die out either, can we?” The man kept singing his little song. Strictly speaking, he wasn’t a pureblood demon himself. The Phenex family had once intermarried with a Phoenix, gaining tremendous power over fire, healing tears, and the ability to recover from being reduced almost to minced meat. “And we’ve been chosen to help prevent that. I have older brothers, so the future of my House is secure. But House Gremory has no heir other than you. If you don’t take a fellow pureblood as your husband, your family’s history will end with you. Do you want to destroy a line that has existed since ancient times? After that war, fewer than half of the demons who once made up the ‘Seventy-Two Pillars’ of our society remain. This marriage matters, first and foremost, to the future of your House.”

Again, utter bullshit. Demon society had always cared about POWER, not pedigree. If “purity of blood” mattered so much, the Phenex family’s union with the Flame Birds would have cost them recognition as a Great House. Their present main branch, at least.

Oh, the way he laid it on! A boastful nobody, practically pissing himself with excitement at the prospect of marrying the Gremory heiress. It didn’t take a genius to see that, in his wet dreams, the third Phenex son was already imagining himself wielding power over her Great House. He was probably picturing how he’d boast to other spoiled rich brats that one of his wives wasn’t just anybody—she was Rias Gremory herself!

He simply didn’t understand that his only role would be that of a consort. A stud bull who would never be allowed anywhere near the management of House Gremory. Rias’s father was in the prime of his life, and she was growing more powerful by the day. Even now, in a one-on-one fight, she could overwhelm Riser with raw power. The only thing that would keep her from truly defeating him was his Phoenix blood: it would let the bastard regenerate from the meat patty she’d turn that arrogant piece of shit into. Again and again. And again.

An endlessly regenerating punching bag was wonderful if you had endless energy. Unfortunately, Rias didn’t.

And their “great mission” was merely the result of the good relationship between Rias’s parents and Riser’s. No doubt, one evening over a leisurely conversation, the two old goats had giggled their way to what they considered a brilliant plan for strengthening the friendship between Houses Gremory and Phenex.

Ugh, I’m so angry, Rias thought, barely stopping herself from cursing her father outright.

“My House will be safe,” she said through clenched teeth. “I will take a husband.”

“Good. Then let’s—”

“But it won’t be you.” She wasn’t arguing. She was stating a fact. “I’ll marry someone I love. Someone I consider worthy. No ancient custom and no arrangement will take that right away from me.”

This time, the smug little grin finally vanished from the “guest’s” mug. It stung the idiot that she didn’t consider him worthy of standing beside her.

“You know what, Rias? I’m a High-Class Demon bearing the Phenex name, and I won’t let anyone spit on it like that. I dragged myself to this crumbling building in the human world for you. You know how much I hate the mortal world. A filthy plane without pure flame or free wind. It drives me mad—a demon with true, unfettered fire running through his veins!”

Flames rose around the furious Riser, their tongues beginning to spread across the room.

“I’ll take you back to the Underworld, even if I have to burn every one of your servants!”

What a bastard. At that threat, Rias felt her pent-up fury smash through the last walls of her composure. The third son of Great House Phenex intended to kill HER SERVANTS?!

There would have been bloodshed if Grayfia hadn’t set her teacup on its saucer with a sharp clink.

“Lady Gremory, Lord Phenex, please calm yourselves. If this continues, I won’t stand idly by.” For an instant, the maid radiated cold—an overwhelming power that seemed ready to freeze everything around her.

Rias clenched her fists, still brimming with fury. She was supposed to calm down?! She shot an angry look at her sister-in-law… then forced herself to do it. Her brother’s wife was not someone she could argue with under these circumstances. In private, yes. In front of others, no.

There was one consolation: Riser shut up at once and damped down his little pyrotechnic display. Asshole. He was brave enough to threaten his “fiancée’s” young servants with death, but as soon as he glimpsed the prospect of being sent to answer to his father inside a block of ice, he became compliant and started sighing meekly.

“If the ‘Invincible Queen’ says so, I won’t argue… I certainly don’t want a conflict with Sirzechs Lucifer’s peerage. They say it’s made up of genuine monsters.”

“Have some tea.” Grayfia nodded toward the cups on the table beside Rias and Riser, ignoring the flattery in his voice entirely. “It’s truly exquisite.”

“Thank you, but I’ve had enough to drink.” The “guest” gave a crooked smile.

Rias picked up her cup. For one thing, she loved tea. For another, she was curious about the new variety Chiba-kun had brought, especially since everyone but her and Phenex had already emptied theirs. And third, Grayfia was every bit as discerning as Akeno. For her to call a tea “exquisite” and mean it was almost unheard of.

One sip. The heiress of Great House Gremory took one sip and felt… summer spread through her entire body. Not the stifling kind, with oppressive heat that made you long for an air-conditioned room.

The sun’s gentle warmth, somehow bringing no discomfort to a demon. The distant murmur of soothing surf. The faint touch of cool mist on her face.

A gentle wave of warmth swept through Rias, washing the weariness from her body, easing the tension in her muscles, letting her relax. Anger, fury, and resentment fell away from her mind, leaving her thoughts astonishingly clear.

She looked at her sister-in-law in surprise and realized how blind and deaf she’d been. Grayfia had never intended to force or coerce her. She hadn’t come merely to babysit the children of two Great Houses. Her brother’s wife—the wife of one of the Four Devils—had also come to watch and judge.

And Grayfia didn’t like what she saw. Rias could see it clearly now: that icy mask had never truly hidden her sister-in-law’s feelings. Not from Rias. If she hadn’t been so consumed by her own dark emotions, she would have caught every fleeting expression Grayfia tried to conceal.

Contempt and disgust for Riser. Sympathy and encouragement for Rias. Her sister-in-law hated the way the “groom” behaved.

Well, of course, Rias thought with an inward snort.

When you were married to a demon like Sirzechs—just, honest, loving, brave, strong—Riser looked like a lump of bird shit by comparison. The way he treated his “fiancée” as a thing he wanted to acquire disgusted a woman who loved her husband and was loved in return.

Their feelings had been strong and pure enough to survive the civil war that overthrew the Past Lords. Strong enough for them to love each other even when they were enemies. Strong enough that the good relations Houses Lucifuge and Gremory enjoyed today were entirely their doing.

A King of the Underworld could have only one spouse. That was the law, and many had wanted to become the new Lucifer’s wife. Everyone pressured Sirzechs: friends, enemies, even his mother and father. But he chose the woman he loved despite everything—Grayfia Lucifuge. And all the Underworld bowed to his choice.

So… neither her brother nor his wife had ever supported her father’s idea. Whenever Rias said she would marry someone she loved, they had always backed her.

“Master Sirzechs-sama foresaw that this might happen,” Grayfia said. “To tell the truth, this was meant to be the final meeting for negotiations. Everyone knew it would lead nowhere, so a decision was made to resort to drastic measures.”

Rias gave her sister-in-law a questioning look, silently asking what she meant by “drastic measures.”

“My lady, if you wish to convince others to respect your will, why not do it in the Rating Games?”

“A friendly match?” The redhead took another sip of the marvelous tea, remaining remarkably calm.

“That’s right. I’ll referee it personally.” Grayfia nodded, and this time the encouragement in her cool eyes was easy to see.

“Good. Well, Riser? Shall we settle our dispute in a game? Remember, you still have a chance to back out.”

“Why would I?” Phenex asked, genuinely surprised. “Of course I agree. If you win, do whatever you want. If you lose, we get married immediately.”

“I’m already looking forward to watching your reputation among your friends crumble when a demoness who isn’t even of age stomps you and your team into the dirt.” Rias gave him a thin smile, savoring both the clarity of her mind and the way the bastard’s face twisted. She couldn’t help laughing. “But the best part is that I’ll never have to look at your smug face again.”

“So neither of you objects to a friendly match?” Grayfia asked, drawing their attention back to her.

“No.” Rias shook her head.

“Not at all,” the “groom” said with a thoroughly unpleasant grin.

I wonder what he thinks married life will be like. Miraculous regeneration is all well and good, but it won’t spare him the pain of being castrated. I doubt he’ll feel much like performing his marital duties afterward, the redhead mused.

Besides, there was an ocean of other ways to make someone’s life miserable. Did he truly not understand that the daughter of House Gremory would make an unwanted husband’s life Hell, in the mortal sense of the word?

“Very well.” Grayfia bowed politely. “I’ll inform your families.”

“Hey, Rias,” Riser called to her without a trace of manners. “Is this your whole clan?”

“Yes,” she replied calmly, earning a burst of loud laughter.

“Then the outcome’s already decided. The only one of your servants who could fight mine on equal terms is your Queen, the Priestess of Lightning. The rest are nothing but rabble.”

Rias sighed and shook her head. Meanwhile, Riser snapped his fingers.

He’s put together a whole production, she thought with a wry smile as Riser’s Pieces appeared from a teleportation circle. All fifteen of them. The lounge immediately felt crowded.

“And these are my lovely servants.” The “guest” swept out a hand theatrically, drawing a mocking snort from the mistress of the room.

“They’re pretty,” Rias agreed, looking over his clan. “You went for quantity and variety, didn’t you? Not one of them even required two Pieces, but you’ve collected every type from around the world.” This time she laughed. The laugh was unkind, but sincere.

Riser’s clan really did have a girl for every taste: a Chinese woman in a qipao, a swordswoman from somewhere in Europe, a mixed-race girl, a dancer from some Arab country. His younger sister stood apart from the others. She was the Bishop in his clan, which had always made Rias a little uneasy. Surely they didn’t have that kind of relationship, like in some of those… disturbing manga?

Anyway, back to his team: fifteen girls, so each had taken a single Piece. Not even one Pawn had needed two! Riser had simply gone looking for as many girls as he could get, without a thought for his team’s strength. And that idiot thought he could lecture her?

What made Rias laugh even more was the glimpse she caught of Issei. His face had twisted into such a mask of ENVY that she hadn’t known a face could even do that. Tears were running down his cheeks!

Apparently, Issei couldn’t bear seeing someone who had already assembled the harem he could only dream about.

“Um… Hey, Rias… That boy… Your servant is just staring at me and crying…” Even Riser looked bewildered by her Pawn’s behavior.

“Ugh…” She waved him off, unwilling to explain. She wanted the poser gone as soon as possible, so she could let the others leave and discuss the situation with Grayfia in private.

“Master…” One of Riser’s girls suddenly leaned toward his ear. It was the unmistakably Chinese girl in the qipao. Her eyes were fixed on his untouched cup. “May I…”

Rias couldn’t hear what she whispered next, but Riser’s reply made her request clear enough.

“Hmm…” He hesitated for a moment, then picked up the cup. “Of course. Try it. I’ve had enough tea already.”

The beautiful Chinese woman bowed in thanks, then… drained the entire cup in one gulp. Most of her clanmates watched her with varying degrees of bewilderment. Their Master seemed surprised, too.

“How… exquisite…” Riser’s servant whispered, barely audible. A second later, she collapsed to the floor.

“This…” Rias tilted her head, puzzled.

The Occult Research Club’s lounge fell silent for a few moments. Then the sight of his servant lying motionless gave Phenex an idea.

“Rias, were you… trying to poison me?!”

Wait, was that an option?! the Gremory heiress wondered. She’d have to ask whether there was a poison capable of killing a Phenex.

“Mistress, girls, Genshiro.” I smiled at the student council as I stepped into the room that had become so familiar and comfortable. The Gremory clan’s headquarters felt like the home of an English lady with a passion for Victorian décor. Ours was more like an ordinary office, but a pleasant one: simple, cozy, comfortable. Though I suspected the demons who gathered here had more to do with that than the furnishings.

Before coming to the council room, I’d taken a walk to clear my head and shake off my irritation. I could have meditated, but right now one careless move would trigger a breakthrough. No reason to rush it. I wanted to advance to the next stage calmly, somewhere scenic. I’d already picked out a fine cliff by the sea.

So I’d settled for a walk around the academy grounds, with a spell to turn away curious eyes. No need to startle anyone with my outfit.

Just as I reached the doors to the student council rooms, though, I stopped. A powerful surge of fire had flared up in the direction of the Occult Research Club. It died away almost at once, replaced by the faintest breath of cold. Grayfia Lucifuge’s power, without a doubt. For an instant, even that distant trace made my joints ache. Then the feeling passed.

In any case, as long as nothing got out of hand on academy grounds, what happened inside the Occult Research Club was none of the Sitri clan’s business.

“Last again, am I?” our secretary sighed theatrically, shaking his head at my greeting without a trace of real offense.

“We guys will sort that out between ourselves,” I said, winking at the Sacred Gear wielder.

“Why didn’t you use a portal?” Tomoe asked, surprised by my thoroughly ordinary entrance. Well, almost ordinary. I wasn’t wearing my school uniform, but the martial artist’s robes I’d grown used to over so many lives.

“I stopped by the Gremory clan with Issei.” I kept myself from grimacing.

“Ahh…” The swordswoman lost interest at once.

“Did something happen?” Unlike our Knight, Sona-san caught the change in my manner immediately.

“I brought them some tea.” I shrugged and smiled at my Mistress. “I met Grayfia Lucifuge-san and Riser Phenex.” I couldn’t bring myself to tack an honorific onto the latter’s name.

“Oh…” A struggle of emotions played across Sona-san’s lovely face. When I mentioned Lucifer’s wife, my Mistress visibly softened. She hadn’t been tense to begin with, but I saw the muscles of her face relax.

But at the mention of that undercooked rooster, Sona-san tensed. Only a little, but I caught the worry on the face of the academy’s most beautiful girl—by my reckoning.

“Trouble?” Tsubaki asked, adjusting her glasses as she noticed the tension in the leader of our small clan.

“None,” I assured her. “If anything, I’m glad that young demon doesn’t come calling here. A rare breed of trash. Concentrated.”

“Taro-kun.” Our Queen shook her head. Sona-san, notably, said nothing. She didn’t try to rebuke me for speaking so rudely of the Phenex family’s third son.

“Has Tsubasa-chan gone out on an assignment already?” I tactfully steered us away from the subject of trash.

“She jumped at the chance,” Momo said with a warm smile. “Did she do something wrong during training?”

“Got her wires crossed.” I glanced at the disciplinary committee’s desk. The paperwork had been dealt with, so nothing untoward had happened while I was training Issei. Or Tsubasa had handled it herself. “Nothing serious, but she’s earned herself a week of intensive instruction in martial arts etiquette.”

“Yikes,” Tomoe said, impressed.

“Had to start sometime.” I shrugged and headed for the corner where we made tea.

At that moment, the phone on my Mistress’s desk rang. Only a handful of people could call her directly, bypassing Genshiro: Gremory-san, the academy’s headmistress, and certain mortal representatives of House Sitri.

“President Sitori speaking,” Sona-san said, picking up the receiver.

“Something new?” The disapproval vanished from Tsubaki’s face, replaced by interest, as I took out two metal tins of our Golden Bloom.

“Indeed, Tsubaki-san.” I laid out everything needed to prepare the tea. “I guarantee you’ll like it.”

“I understand. We’ll be there at once.” Sona-san hung up and rose from her desk. “Taro-kun… I’m afraid the new tea will have to wait. We need to teleport to the Occult Research Club immediately.”

“Understood.” I nodded readily. “Did something happen?”

“One of Phenex’s servants… has been poisoned by your tea.”

…

I blinked.

…

The room fell utterly silent.

…

I looked at my Mistress. There was nothing in her beautiful face to suggest she was joking. Beneath her calm assurance, I could see carefully concealed concern.

Every word fled my mind except one, an exceptionally eloquent question:

“…Huh?!”

“We all drank that tea,” Rias sighed yet again.

“Oh, of course. Putting poison in one particular cup would be impossible,” Riser snapped, his cheek twitching with irritation.

“As if it would kill you.” She shook her head. “If only it were that simple…”

The third son of the Phenex family coughed at that.

The uproar had died down somewhat once they established that Riser’s servant was breathing. It hadn’t spared them several unpleasant minutes of Phenex raging indignantly, though. Only Grayfia’s presence had kept things from turning violent.

“Her hands are getting colder,” said the girl dressed as a dancer from the East, worry in her voice. She claimed to know a little medicine, including the demonic side of it, but she hadn’t been able to help.

Once Rias learned that the servant who had collapsed in her club was a martial artist, she decided to call Sona. Perhaps Chiba-kun knew something about cases like this. In her anxiety, though, Rias seemed to have explained the situation rather badly.

After all, they had all drunk the tea, and Akeno had served it. That immediately made her Queen a suspect. Rias believed her friend, of course, but Riser and his clan didn’t. Even Grayfia plainly had doubts.

“Sona and her servant will be here any moment.”

Behind the members of the Phenex clan, who had crowded around the sofa where their friend lay, the light of a teleportation circle began to glow.

“What could some worthless servant possibly know?” Riser spat rudely onto the carpet.

A flash announced Sona’s arrival just as he began to speak, but Phenex made no effort to lower his voice or choose his words more carefully.

The moment he finished speaking, something flooded the room… pressure? It was as though a slab of concrete had dropped onto Rias’s shoulders. At the same time, an overwhelming thirst for blood swept in from where the teleportation circle had just faded. It felt as if one of the Four Devils had entered the Occult Research Club.

Could it be Serafall? the Gremory heiress wondered uneasily. Sona’s sister was a wonderful girl… when she wasn’t angry. But when Leviathan lost her temper, even Rias’s brother took it seriously.

“MOVE ASIDE.”

The man’s voice was quiet, yet it seemed to sound right beside her ear. It was filled with… something. Power. Authority.

Most of the reincarnated demons standing frozen around the sofa were swept away from the unconscious girl. Only Rias, Grayfia, Riser, Akeno, and one girl from the Phenex clan—Riser’s younger sister—held their ground.

“How did this happen?” Chiba-kun asked in his normal voice, looking at the girl in the qipao lying on the sofa.

So it had been him. Sona stood calmly beside him, surveying the crowd with the faintest trace of surprise on her otherwise impassive face.

“She drank the tea and passed out almost immediately,” Akeno answered quickly.

“I see.” A few long strides brought him to the sofa, where he took the unconscious girl’s wrist. For an instant, Rias sensed a breath of strange but familiar power from him. She’d felt it before, when she watched him fight the Fallen Angel, though it had been much weaker then. “I understand.”

“What are you—damn it, what are you doing?” Phenex roared.

The boy had seized the Chinese woman by the arm and dragged her off the sofa onto her back, with no apparent concern when her head struck the corner of the tea table with a dull thud.

Riser had no time to intervene. It all happened too quickly. His servant hit the floor; Chiba-kun turned her head to one side, then brought an open palm down hard on her solar plexus. That strange power surged from him again. The girl jerked, arched off the floor, and began flailing her arms and legs.

Her eyes flew open. She tried to turn her head, but Chiba kept her cheek pressed to the floor… until she began to vomit. Something blue-black and revolting…

“Pathetic.” Sona’s servant waited until the eruption stopped and the girl on the floor broke into a coughing fit before rising to his feet. “What’s your master’s name?”

“What? What happened?” Riser demanded before the Chinese woman could answer. “Is Li Fang all right?”

“Li Fang? Plum Fragrance?” Chiba-kun gave a faint smile. “How original. Yes, she’s all right. As all right as someone in her condition can be.”

“Damn it, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your servant, Phenex-san, is a martial artist. She has three different ailments. On their own, they’re often harmless. Together, they’re invariably fatal.” He turned back to her. “You know what I mean, Li Fang?”

Sona’s Rook spoke unhurriedly, regarding the girl struggling to rise from the floor with distaste.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” one of Phenex’s servants cried, rushing to her friend. “Can’t you see she needs help?!”

“I saved her life.” Taro-kun shrugged. “Though yes, there’s clearly something wrong with me. Saving trash like that… My master would’ve whacked me with an oar for it, damn the crazy bastard.”

“Taro-kun,” Sona said with a hint of reproach. The effect was immediate: the contempt and arrogance vanished from her Rook’s face, replaced by a courteous, slightly apologetic smile.

“Forgive me, my Mistress. I went too far. For this servant to lose his temper in your presence was a serious lapse.”

“Please, stop.” Sitri shook her head, a faint smile on her face. “Just explain what happened.”

“As my Brilliant Mistress wishes.” He gave Sona another radiant smile and a look full of warmth. “As I said, this girl is a martial artist. She follows the path of the sword and frost yin qi. I know similar arts, but the closest to what I sensed in Li Fang is called the Path of the Ice Empress.” He folded his hands at his waist, tucking them into the wide sleeves of his robe. “Unfortunately, she’s practicing it incorrectly, and that’s what led to this.”

“In… incorrectly?” the Chinese woman said, speaking for the first time since she’d opened her eyes.

“Incorrectly.” Chiba-kun’s voice turned cold with contempt. “As I told your Master, you suffer from three ailments: stupidity, greed, and impatience. Greed makes you grab at everything you can get. Impatience means you never stop to consider how that greed affects your progress. And stupidity… well, it leaves you incapable of drawing any conclusion beyond more, more, more.”

He sighed heavily at the Phenex servant as indignation and anger spread across her face.

“You constantly feel an unnatural chill in your left arm, below the elbow. It isn’t the usual cold you feel when you meditate or use your techniques. This is different. It prickles beneath the skin, and sometimes your fingertips go numb. Am I right?”

“What?!” All the anger vanished from her face, leaving only astonishment. “How… how did you know?”

“I held your wrist. That was enough. First, your minor loops have opened at random. In some places your meridians are in perfect condition; in others, there are blockages. Some loops haven’t opened at all—around your groin, for example. Your legs are a complete mess. Even the main meridians haven’t been properly opened, let alone the minor ones. Incidentally, I’ve never seen anyone with loops that are only partially open. That isn’t a compliment.”

Rias understood none of it, and neither did anyone else. But Li Fang’s eyes kept widening.

“Your left arm has more than a buildup of yin qi. Half its minor loops are clogged with ghostly yin, which is hardly healthy. Did you devour a ghost? Take lessons from the Black and White Wardens? Did the Even Spirit trick you into it? Did you spit in the Soup of Forgetfulness in a past life and anger Meng Po?” Sarcasm poured from his voice by the bucketful. “And then there’s your upper dantian. It’s practically caked in filth, which is not normal for a demon. What did you have to eat to foul your Mind Center that badly? Were the pills and elixirs you took never purified? Or did you just chew whatever you found lying on the ground, like the morons in cultivation novels?”

“I… no… Master… I…”

“Blah, blah… I don’t particularly care.” Chiba-kun waved her off. “Next: nearly ten different kinds of energy are circulating through your meridians. Your current demonic nature is the only reason you haven’t wrecked your cultivation yet. But it won’t save you for long. Today you came this close. A practitioner of cold yin drinking tea grown on yang energy… that’s a truly spectacular level of stupidity. And without preparing yourself, too. Just GLUG, and suddenly pure fire yang qi is racing through your meridians. When it collided with that delightful assortment you’ve accumulated, your body went into shock.”

“What the hell is he talking about?” Riser asked Sona under his breath, leaning toward her.

“Martial arts matters.” Sitri gave a small shrug and stepped away from Phenex.

“You’re lucky, Li Fang. Lucky I grew the Golden Bloom in the Underworld, away from sunlight, and nourished it with fire qi. Otherwise you’d have boiled from the inside today instead of getting away with another injury to your meridians. You’re doubly lucky I recently attuned my lower dantian to Flame, so I could drive all that fire energy out of your body! And you’re lucky a third time that you’re a servant of the Phenex clan. If you were just some fool off the street, I’d have spat on your corpse and left you there. Brainless trash deserves to die in obscur—”

“Taro, please…” Sona gently took her servant by the forearm.

“Haaah…” Her Rook let out a long breath. “Once again, I ask your forgiveness, my Mistress. The thought that this… girl has cast doubt on my tea infuriates me.”

“In any case, I think the problem is settled now?” Sona smiled at her childhood friend, Rias.

“Yes, I suppose so.” The Gremory heiress glanced at the Chinese woman, who was still recovering, then at the… vomit-soaked carpet. “Thank you for coming, Sona. Chiba-kun.”

“My Mistress’s wish is her servant’s law.” For some reason, the boy in the strange robes bowed to Sona.

“I’m glad it’s all resolved. It was lovely to see you, Grayfia.”

“The feeling is mutual, Lady Sitri.” Rias’s sister-in-law, ever the model maid, bowed to the heiress of the allied House.

“Come by for tea sometime. I’d be glad to see you.” The student council president gave her another faint smile and turned toward the door, only to be stopped.

“Master!” Rias stared, unable to help herself, as Riser’s servant pulled free of her friend’s grasp, dropped to her knees before Sitri’s Rook, and pressed her forehead to the floor. “Master, what should I do?”

“You?” Cold contempt returned to Chiba-kun’s voice as he looked back at the Chinese woman. “Find a competent master. Repair your cultivation. Become strong… and then kill the one teaching you now. He wants you dead. And even if he doesn’t, a master this incompetent deserves nothing but death, and his school deserves to be destroyed and forgotten. A student like you is a disgrace to any practitioner.”

There was no hint that Chiba Taro was joking. His gaze was steady, his chin raised, his expression haughty and disdainful. He hadn’t called the girl a name this time, but every line of his face made his opinion of her painfully clear.

“Good night,” Sona said, ending the conversation. She took her Rook by the forearm once more and led him toward the exit.