High School DxD: The Lucifer's Devil Trigger — Chapter 41

The Clan Head of Leraje—a man infamous in the Underworld for his venomous magical affinity, his mastery of archery, and his silver tongue—raised a trembling finger toward the stage. He pitched his voice to echo across the cavernous banquet hall, desperate to draw the room’s attention.

“You, a remnant of the Old Satan Faction, dare to commit murder openly in front of the Reformist Faction Satans!” he roared, deliberately puffing out his chest. His gaze flicked toward the high seats, sweeping over Sirzechs, Ajuka, and Serafall.

All three of the current Satans were watching. The Leraje patriarch was betting his life on a simple assumption: Levi wouldn’t dare strike again with the absolute pinnacle of the Underworld’s authority sitting right there. It didn’t matter how strong this young Lucifer was. By framing the execution as an insult to the Reformist Faction, the Leraje head forced the room’s hand. Even if the other nobles despised him, they couldn’t afford to show weakness to a supposed Old Satan loyalist.

It was an overt, calculated political trap. He thought he had played his hand perfectly.

But Levi merely chuckled.

The sound wasn’t loud, yet a sudden, biting cold swept through the grand hall. Every devil present felt the temperature plummet.

“Reformist Faction? Old Satan Faction?” Levi tilted his head, his tone entirely unhurried. “As I recall, the Devil Civil War ended a long time ago. Aren’t we all simply devils under the rule of the Four Great Satans now?”

He paused, letting the silence stretch before his dark gaze locked onto the Leraje patriarch’s pale face. “Or what? Are you planning to ignite a second civil war?”

The older devil flinched.

“You’ve already taken the liberty of dividing everyone into factions again,” Levi continued, his voice smooth as glass. “Tell me, have you drafted a list of new Satans to replace the current ones, too?”

A single sentence. It completely severed the Leraje head’s political lifeline, leaving him dangling over an abyss.

The patriarch’s face drained of all color. His lips trembled violently as he scrambled to backtrack. “N-No, that’s not what I meant! I was only targeting you—”

“Targeting me?”

Levi’s voice dropped an octave, cutting through the air like a physical weight. “Do you think the surname Lucifer is beneath you? Or do you simply believe I am not qualified to stand here?”

“I…”

Click.

A silver flash erased the distance.

The blade in Levi’s hand moved with a velocity that defied the eye. No magic flared. No grand incantation was spoken. There was only the faint, metallic whisper of a sword leaving its scabbard and returning in the exact same breath.

The Clan Head of Leraje stood frozen for a fraction of a second. Then, his head slid off his shoulders, tumbling to the polished marble floor.

The entire venue plunged into a terrifying, suffocating silence.

Levi casually shifted his gaze toward the VIP seats. Sirzechs Lucifer was actually still smiling, offering a faint, approving nod. Retracting his gaze, Levi scanned the paralyzed crowd below the stage, ensuring no one else felt like speaking up, before vaulting lightly onto the center of the arena.

“If no one has any further objections, let the match begin,” Levi announced, resting a hand on his hip. “I hate dragging things out, so I’ll give you all a generous offer. Anyone who wants to fight, step up. All of you can come at me together.”

The sheer arrogance of the declaration hung heavily in the air.

Several clan heads who still harbored designs on the Gremory marriage turned an ugly shade of green. Yet, not a single one dared to open their mouth. Two slashes. Two Ultimate-Class Devils dead. Sending their own heirs onto that stage now would be nothing short of assisted suicide. Only a lunatic would take that bait.

However, the elderly patriarch of the Phenex Clan was in no rush to give in to anger.

Having survived the ancient wars, his judgment was razor-sharp. He scrutinized Levi’s stance and the lingering traces of aura. The boy’s magical reserves were certainly impressive for his generation, perhaps bordering on a high-tier High-Class Devil, but they weren’t monstrous. More, those two lethal slashes had used almost zero magical power. They relied entirely on explosive physical force and kinetic speed, augmented by only the faintest trace of demonic energy.

To the other pillars, this fighting style was a nightmare. But to the Phenex Clan, it was a completely different story.

It didn’t matter how fast a blade swung. If its destructive output only amounted to physical decapitation, the absolute immortality of the Phenex bloodline simply wouldn’t care.

The old lord was certain of his assessment. Still, gambling his third son’s life wasn’t a decision to make lightly. He glanced around the room. The other nobles were furious but cowed. Levi stood alone on the stage, looking utterly bored.

Slowly, the old Phenex realized the sheer magnitude of the opportunity before him. Yes, there was a risk. But if Riser won here, not only would the marriage to Rias Gremory be locked in stone, but his son would step over the corpse of a Lucifer to become a legendary hero of the new era.

The old Phenex caught Sirzechs’s eye. The Crimson Satan offered a perfectly timed, subtle look of apology.

Taking the cue, the patriarch lifted his hand from his son’s shoulder.

Riser, who had been practically vibrating with suppressed rage and eagerness, launched himself out of the crowd. “These cowards might not dare, but I do! Levi, today I’ll show you the absolute superiority of the Phenex Clan!”

Levi looked at the blonde devil landing heavily on the arena floor and smiled.

A translucent blue interface flickered across his vision.

[Check-in Target (Riser Phenex): Make him understand that Phenex is not invincible]

Understood.

“Come on up,” Levi said softly.

A fair distance away, the Sitri Clan Head stood near the edge of the hall, his calculating gaze sweeping over the chaos before settling on the two figures facing off in the arena.

He slowly adjusted his glasses. “Serafall. Regarding Sona’s marriage… even if you ruined the match I arranged today, what is meant to come will come eventually.”

The young devils of this era no longer had the luxury of choosing their own partners. Pure-blooded devils were dwindling toward extinction. If marriages were left entirely to the whims of the youth, the ancient bloodlines would shatter within a few generations. From a romantic perspective, it was a tragedy. But from the perspective of survival, it was the absolute duty of their generation.

“Father, shouldn’t I just learn from Sirzechs then?” Serafall pouted, crossing her arms. “Since you’re so determined to take my cute little Sona away, you should at least let the strongest person take her!”

“The strongest…” The Sitri Clan Head pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, the lenses catching the chandelier light. “If we must choose the strongest of the younger generation, then we should simply pick that Levi Lucifer over there.”

He wasn’t opposed to the idea. In fact, he had considered it before.

The rumors painting Levi as a talentless piece of trash had always reeked of Reformist propaganda. The Sitri Clan Head valued bloodline above all else, and he had done his research. Levi’s father was the grandson of the original Satan Lucifer. His mother was the granddaughter of the original Satan Beelzebub. Even if Levi himself had turned out weak, that genetic legacy was flawless. It was the most noble lineage left in the entire Underworld, guaranteeing an incredibly high probability of producing a monstrously powerful next generation.

And now, Levi had publicly proven that his bloodline was far from dormant. Watching the boy on the stage, the Sitri patriarch felt as though he were looking at a young Sirzechs.

This prospective son-in-law was becoming more pleasing to the eye by the second. “Alas, little Levi is currently fighting for Rias’s hand. If he becomes the Gremory’s man, that complicates things…”

The Sitri Clan Head was a brilliant politician, but his combat insight was lacking. He couldn’t see the deeper mechanics at play on the stage.

Serafall, however, watched the arena with calm, unblinking eyes. She saw exactly what the old Phenex had seen. If Levi relied solely on physical speed and kinetic strikes, his raw magical reserves wouldn’t be enough to put Riser down permanently. The immortal bird would simply outlast him and grind him to dust.

Unfortunately, her father couldn’t see the trap.

The old man snorted, his gaze scraping over his eldest daughter. “What does it matter if he takes another fiancé? For the devils of today, the more high-quality bloodlines we secure, and the more branches we create, the better.”

A nearby high-ranking noble nodded in agreement. “Too many branches can cause internal strife, but two or three? That’s hardly an issue.”

The Sitri Clan Head’s tone grew colder. “It is you, Sirzechs, and Ajuka who are the problem. The three of you possess overwhelming strength, yet you refuse to leave behind any offspring. Serafall, if Sona’s engagement cannot be settled today, then you will sign a contract yourself! My Sitri Clan will absolutely not end with this generation!”

Serafall rolled her eyes, then suddenly burst into bright, airy laughter. “Well, that’s not entirely impossible, you know?”

Her father blinked, stunned by the sudden concession.

Serafall rested her chin on her clasped hands, a dangerous, playful smile curling her lips. “Then let’s make a bet. Just as I said, since you think so highly of little Levi, if he wins this match, Sona’s engagement is yours to decide. Devils let strength do the talking, after all. As for Riser… even if he wins, his baseline power is too pathetic. He isn’t qualified for our family.”

She spoke confidently, though internally, she suspected Riser held the overwhelming tactical advantage.

But just to be safe.

“However, I have no intention of being separated from Sona,” Serafall added, her tone dropping its playful lilt. “This engagement wouldn’t just be Sona’s; it represents me as well. I absolutely will not accept anyone who isn’t strong enough. So, after the match, I will personally test the winner.”

“That’s my condition~”

Without giving her father a single second to argue, Serafall vanished into thin air, leaving only a faint swirl of magical residue.

The Sitri Clan Head choked on his own breath, his face flushing with anger. Serafall testing the boy personally? Aside from Sirzechs and Ajuka, who in the Underworld could possibly survive a serious test from a Satan?

He let out a long, exhausted sigh. He couldn’t control his eldest daughter, so he wouldn’t try. But as he looked back at the arena, his resolve hardened. Serafall could play her games, but he would secure the future of his youngest daughter.

“Levi Lucifer…” the old man murmured. “It is exactly as he said. Reformist, Old Satan… it’s all ancient history. Now, we are simply Devils. His bloodline, his strength, his status. He is the absolute pinnacle of choices. Not bad at all.”

The moment Riser’s boots hit the arena floor, violent, crimson flames erupted from his hands. He stared at Levi, a sickeningly arrogant sneer twisting his features. Anyone watching would think he had already won the fight.

He opened his mouth to boast.

Before a single syllable could leave his lips, a neat, perfectly round hole appeared straight through his throat.

Riser choked, his eyes widening in shock as he realized his vocal cords were gone.

Across the stage, Levi stood perfectly still, his arm casually extended in a throwing posture. The Summoned Sword had materialized and fired with such absurd velocity that Riser’s eyes hadn’t even registered the blue flash.

A second later, the gaping hole in Riser’s neck ignited. Surging, golden-red flames swallowed the wound, knitting flesh and muscle back together in an instant.

Levi lowered his arm, analyzing the data. His Summoned Swords were lethal against standard devils, but against a high-tier Phenex, the damage output was insufficient. The swords were constructed from his tracking magic and accelerated by the super-speed inherent to his Asmodeus bloodline. While those two traits couldn’t amplify the devastating, dimensional-cutting power of Yamato, they were perfect for mass-producing and accelerating his magical constructs.

Even so, Riser wasn’t intimidated. In fact, he laughed, the sound grating and full of unearned confidence. “Hahaha! Did you see that?! Your parlor tricks are completely useless against me! Now I’m the only one who can deal damage. You can’t even leave a scratch!”

Levi sighed. This idiot was somehow even more insufferable than the future version he remembered. The sheer, unadulterated arrogance of a spoiled child was practically tattooed on his forehead. No wonder Rias despised him.

Swoosh—

Two more phantom blades tore through the air.

Riser’s burning hands, along with both of his forearms, were cleanly severed at the elbows. The amputated limbs burned to ash before they even hit the ground. Amidst the churning vortex of fire, new arms rapidly grew from the stumps, flexing as if nothing had happened.

Levi’s eyes gleamed with genuine interest.

If he could just extract and fuse with the Phenex bloodline, that absolute immortality would be his. As for Riser… he was nothing more than a convenient delivery system.

“Ha—!”

Riser threw his head back to laugh again, but the sound abruptly caught in his throat.

The world tilted. His vision shifted in a sickening, unnatural arc.

Confused, Riser looked down.

He saw his own legs, still standing firmly on the arena floor, while the rest of his body slid sideways into the air.