Two weeks had passed since Lucien rescued Kuroka. In that time, the Gremory estate had filled with renewed energy. The east wing's training halls now echoed with the rhythmic clash of blows, soft bursts of ki, and something far rarer—laughter.
During one of their sessions, Kuroka ducked under a jab and grinned.
"Come on, Shirone!"
Koneko paused mid-strike. A small, almost shy smile ghosted across her lips.
"…Okay."
She resumed sparring without another word, but something unspoken had changed. Reconciliation passed between them, not in declarations, but in the shared cadence of movement—two sisters healing one strike at a time.
⸻
Elsewhere on the estate, steel rang against flame and lightning in a different kind of reunion. In the outer courtyard, beneath the sharp eye of the Silver Queen herself, Grayfia Lucifuge oversaw the training of three Gremory scions—Lucien, Rias, and Akeno.
Rias worked to refine her explosive power into surgical precision. Akeno practiced aerial combat, her wings trailing sparks as she twisted lightning into elegant arcs. Lucien, bare-chested and glistening with sweat, blended shadows and flame under the grim instruction of Grayroad, who trained with the cold detachment of someone sculpting a weapon, not teaching a boy.
"Slower," Grayroad said curtly. "Sink deeper into the stance. Again."
Lucien wiped his brow, flicked his crimson hair back, and resumed.
From above, Akeno drifted down like a lazy stormcloud, her eyes unabashedly roaming.
"My, my~" she purred. "Are all Gremory men sculpted from marble… or is it just you, Lucien?"
Without breaking rhythm, Lucien turned with a dry smirk. "I train harder when I know I have an audience."
"Oh? So you're putting on a show for me?"
He stepped closer, shadows curling around his ankles like smoke. "Wouldn't want you getting bored."
From across the yard, Rias groaned and threw a towel at both of them.
"Can you not turn everything into a flirt-fest? Some of us are trying to focus."
Akeno caught the towel midair and twirled it like a ribbon. "Ara~ don't be jealous, Rias."
"I'm not jealous!" Rias snapped. "I'm annoyed. There's a difference."
Lucien shrugged, unfazed. "To be fair, I am pretty great to look at."
"You're impossible."
Grayfia clapped once, crisp as a command. "Enough banter. Training resumes in five minutes. Tonight is no ordinary evening."
⸻
That night would mark a turning point in the Underworld—an evening where bloodlines would be honored, fates sealed, and new legends set in motion.
Two young heirs were about to claim their Evil Pieces—the first step toward building a legacy.
But before that, they would sit among family and friends… and savor one final moment of peace.
⸻
The Gremory estate shimmered with warmth and old magic, standing regal beneath the crimson moonlight. Its grand dining hall was bathed in soft golden hues from enchanted chandeliers, casting a glow over silverware, crystal goblets, and floral arrangements plucked from Underworld groves.
Though laughter and conversation flowed freely, an undercurrent of tension threaded through the air—expectation, legacy, and the burden of bloodlines.
At the head of the long table sat Zeoticus and Venelana, flanked by their children and honored guests. Rias and Lucien—young, ambitious, poised—were seated side by side.
Lucien looked every bit the noble scion: long crimson hair cascading over broad shoulders, icy silver eyes sharp with thought, and a sculpted physique tempered by battle and discipline. He sat in regal ease, the aura of a predator cloaked in velvet.
Beside him, Kuroka reclined like a pampered cat, tails lazily flicking. Her golden eyes danced with mischief as one tail brushed against Lucien's leg.
Venelana caught the exchange with a raised brow and a knowing smile.
"Kuroka, dear," she said sweetly, "do try not to tease the boy too much. We are still at the table."
Kuroka smirked. "I can't help it, Lady Venelana. He brings out my playful side."
Lucien coughed into his drink. Rias rolled her eyes and flicked a green bean at Kuroka's plate.
"Must you corrupt every family dinner?"
"You're never going to win against her," Venelana whispered to Rias, amused.
"I just want one peaceful meal," Lucien muttered.
Zeoticus rose, lifting his glass.
"Tonight, we celebrate not only family—but future. My daughter and grandson will soon take their place as Kings. Tell me… have you begun assembling your peerages?"
Rias straightened, pride gleaming in her eyes. "I've found my Knight and my Bishop. Still working on the rest."
Sirzechs raised his glass. "You have my support. Just say the word."
All eyes shifted to Lucien.
He tapped his glass, gaze cool. "Haven't chosen anyone yet."
A pause.
Sirzechs spoke next, voice low. "Perhaps for the best, considering… recent changes."
The room quieted.
"After what happened with Kuroka," he continued, "the Council officially recognized Lucien as heir of House Lucifuge. The Old Devil Faction has been… reminded of their place."
Lucien smirked. "Good. Let them remember what happens when they threaten this family."
Kuroka leaned into his side with a purr. "Nya~ I'll help you repopulate your clan, Master~."
Koneko groaned. "Sister. Please."
Akeno giggled. "Ara~ quite the charmer, isn't he?"
Rias sighed, half-exasperated. "Took you long enough to notice."
Kuroka traced a slow finger down Lucien's arm. "Red hair, silver eyes, a body carved of stone… I'd join his peerage for the view alone."
Lucien gave her a flat look. "We'll discuss that later… kitten."
The room erupted into laughter.
Venelana's voice cut through it with grace. "Power attracts. But loyalty sustains. Choose wisely, Lucien."
He bowed his head. "Yes, Grandmother."
But as the mirth lingered, a shadow passed over Rias' face.
Venelana noticed immediately. "Rias?"
Rias' voice was tight. "My engagement to Riser Phenex has been reinstated."
Silence fell like a sword.
Lucien's smile vanished. "You're joking."
"I wish I were." Rias clenched her fists. "It's politics. A show of unity."
Lucien looked to Sirzechs. "You can't be okay with this."
Sirzechs' easy expression had turned to iron. "Not even a little. But for now… we play the part."
Lucien exhaled slowly, eyes hard. "Then I'll make sure Ri Ri's peerage is strong enough to crush him."
Rias smiled faintly. "Thanks, Luci."
Zeoticus, ever the tactician, smoothly redirected. "And what of your future, Lucien? You'll need more than a peerage. A match must be made."
Lucien groaned. "Dad already mentioned it. Two noble houses sent candidates."
Sirzechs slid two sealed photos across the table. "The Council took your 'tail' comment seriously. You're allowed to marry both… if you so choose."
Lucien blinked. "That was a joke…"
Still, he picked up the first photo—and froze.
"No way."
Rias leaned in. "Is that—?!"
She looks just like Albedo from Overlord, Lucien thought.
Sirzechs smirked. "You recognize her?"
Lucien and Rias exchanged a look but said nothing.
"Her name is Albedo. Daughter of the Vermeil Succubus Matriarch. Elite strategist. Deadly in combat. Obsessively loyal to her chosen."
Venelana added, "A union would grant us access to Vermeil's spies, assassins, and the Midnight Market."
Lucien's voice was faint. "She even has the same smile…"
He picked up the second photo—and time stopped.
Lavender skin. Draconic scales. Eyes that burned with pride and power.
Dracarys Tiamat.
Lucien stared. "She'd put Shion's body to shame."
Sirzechs leaned in. "Her personality is… a lot. Imagine Ddraig's pride and Serafall's clinginess. Combined."
Grayfia added softly, "She's the granddaughter of Tiamat and Ddraig. Her father is Rhaegon. Her grandmother… the original Tiamat's daughter."
The silence was deafening.
"She's not just powerful," Sirzechs said. "She's dragon royalty."
Zeoticus folded his hands. "Either match makes you untouchable."
Lucien rubbed his temples. "I wanted to build my own legend… not marry half of it."
Venelana smiled. "The trick, my dear, is turning burdens into weapons."
A servant approached. "My Lady, the Hall of Inheritance is ready."
⸻
The Gremorys moved through the ancestral halls, past murals of battles won and empires raised. The weight of legacy hung on every stone.
They entered a vast obsidian chamber—the Hall of Inheritance. Its starsteel dome mirrored the constellations of the Underworld. In its center hovered two sets of Evil Pieces. One scarlet. One black edged in silver.
Rias stepped forward.
Venelana spoke. "Rias Gremory. Do you accept the burden of command?"
Rias' voice was steady. "I do."
The scarlet pieces swirled around her and vanished into her body, runes glowing faintly before fading.
Then Lucien stepped forward.
Venelana's gaze softened. "Lucien Lucifuge-Gremory. Do you accept the mantle of a King?"
He inhaled. "I do."
The violet-black pieces encircled him, merging one by one. Stardust trailed in their wake. As the last sank into his chest, a pulse of magic rolled outward.
Even Sirzechs raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Impressive."
Rias smirked. "Showoff."
Lucien grinned. "Can't help it. Comes naturally."
Venelana laid hands on their shoulders. "The strength of a King isn't in their pieces… but in the hearts that choose to follow."
Sirzechs clapped. "Someone get the good wine. We've got two new Kings to toast!"
⸻
As laughter rose again and glasses clinked, Kuroka slipped beside Lucien.
"Congratulations, Master~. Now… when do I get my piece?"
Lucien chuckled. "Soon, kitten. Soon."
And for one fleeting night, before fate's wheel turned again, Lucien allowed himself to feel something precious.
Belonging.