The Prince of Sloth [DxD]

Floating City Agreas, Agares Domain, Underworld

After the temporary truce that followed the annihilation of the Original Four Maou and the God of the Bible, peace was somewhat restored between the three factions of Christian Mythology. However, this peace was fragile, and even the slightest twist or turn could shatter it.

Despite its fragility, a full-scale war has not broken out since then. While small skirmishes continue to occur, the leaders of all three factions choose to ignore them, dismissing them as personal or selfish actions of individuals rather than the intentions of the entire faction.

And yes, the leaders of the other factions accept this explanation, even when it occasionally sounds rather absurd.

A skirmish occurred between Vasco Strada, widely praised as the 'Limits of Humanity' from the Vatican, and Kokobiel—a Cadre of Grigori—during World War II. Was that a personal, selfish action? Certainly not. However, it was recognized as such in order to prevent the conflict between Heaven and Grigori from reigniting.

But why is it like this? Why are these three factions, who were once locked in deadly conflict, now unwilling to resume the battle, even though they only agreed to a temporary truce eons ago?

The reason is simple: they simply don't have the manpower to continue the war. Whether it's the Angels, Fallen Angels, or Devils, all three factions suffered such heavy losses in the Great War that it became impossible for them to carry on. Moreover, the difficulty in replenishing their numbers only made things worse.

As a result, the fragile peace between the three factions of Christianity has endured to this day—such was the extent of their losses.

In fact, the three factions didn't just lose many of their people in the Great War; with the death of the God of the Bible and the original Four Maou, it became incredibly difficult for any of the factions to restore their numbers.

The Angels were hit the hardest. With the death of God, the well that gave birth to Angels had dried up, making it nearly impossible for them to reproduce. While they could still have children, the process came with several restrictions, and there was always the risk of falling, meaning their numbers barely grew.

The Fallen Angels were somewhat luckier. They could still increase their numbers by recruiting Angels who had fallen from Heaven, and they no longer faced the same restrictions on reproduction, since they had already fallen. However, because their numbers had been the smallest to begin with, the Fallen Angels' population remained relatively low.

As for the Devils, their situation is a bit more complicated. Like the Fallen Angels, they face no restrictions on reproduction and can procreate without issue. However, their fertility rate is very low, so births are far less frequent than they would like.

On top of that, while the Devils were still recovering from the losses of the Great War, a Civil War broke out in the Underworld, worsening their already dire situation. More than half of the prominent High-Class Devil households were wiped out during this conflict leading to further strain in recovering the population.

If that wasn't bad enough, things were made worse by the Devils' prideful nature. Even the smallest slight could offend them, leading to conflicts not only with other races but also among themselves. This constant infighting only further weakened their numbers.

When the new government was established about six centuries ago, led by the Four Maou of the new generation and the Great King Faction, they were faced with several challenges. Not only did they have to address the problem of recovering the lost population from the two wars, but they also had to find a way to prevent further internal conflicts among the Devils and strengthen their entire race.

The big questions everyone faced were:

How do you restore the Devil population when the fertility rate is so low?

How do you prevent internal conflict among such prideful creatures?

And how do you strengthen the entire race?

The one to come up with the solution to all three questions was the Devil with the highest IQ, that is, Maou Beelzebub.

Maou Beelzebub created the Evil Pieces that allowed the Devils to restore their numbers using people of other races in the form of reincarnated Devils; he also introduced the concept of Rating Games to the Underworld that allowed Devils to resolve their internal conflicts without killing each other. And, of course, having their numbers restored while absorbing talent from other factions while competing with each other slowly led to the strengthening of the entire race.

'But I do wonder... why are other races and mythologies so willing to allow their talented members to be observed by Devils?'

Considering the actions of the original Maou, it wouldn't be surprising if the entire world hated the Devils and sought their extinction. After all, the original Four Maou's intention was to annihilate all but the Devils and then rule over the entire world.

Yet, that doesn't seem to be the case. The world doesn't universally despise the Devils. This is understandable since other mythologies are preoccupied with their own internal conflicts and don't want to get involved with the Devil's affairs. However, no matter how much internal strife certain mythologies face, there is a limit to how much they will tolerate from the Devils. After all, in their quest to restore their numbers and strength, the Devils don't hesitate to poach talent from other factions.

It would be one thing if they were only recruiting rejects, but it's not just that. Even powerful individuals are often reincarnated as Devils.

It's quite strange that other factions generally don't pursue these matters too aggressively.

'Hmm… could it be due to the unfathomable strength of the current Lucifer and Beelzebub?'

The current Maou Lucifer and Maou Beelzebub are undoubtedly among the strongest beings in the world, even when considering all mythologies. While they might not be the absolute strongest—there are Chief Gods and other figures from various mythologies who are likely on the same tier, somewhat close, or even stronger, such as the God King Indra or the Trimurti from Hindu mythology—these beings have their own internal conflicts to manage.

It's unlikely they'd want to escalate a conflict between their mythologies and the Devils unnecessarily. Yes, they might lose some talent to the Devils, but is that talent worth the risk of provoking beings as powerful and troublesome as Sirzechs and Ajuka? Probably not.

'And now that I think about it… Maou Leviathan, who oversees foreign affairs, might also handle disputes arising from the Devil's poaching talent from other mythologies. Perhaps Maou Leviathan compensates these mythologies with resources or other means to prevent conflicts from escalating… hmm, that could very well be the case considering the personalities of the current Lucifer who prefers peace.'

'Well, whatever the case may be and regardless of how the Maous handle such matters, it's not important at the moment…'

What truly matters is the transformative impact the introduction of the Evil Pieces and Rating Games has had on the Underworld in the past half a millennia.

The idea of a relatively safer environment where Devils from various households—despite their differences, interests, and grudges—could compete against one another not only in strength but also in terms of leadership skills, wit, strategy, planning, and so on without killing one another was revolutionary, and quickly became popular among Devils.

But this is also not a surprise, right?

In ancient times, humans, despite their limited lifespans, made gladiatorial combat a celebrated form of entertainment. They would gather to watch as one human fought, killed, or was killed by another human or a ferocious beast, all while cheering for the violence and death of their own kind.

Can the Devils really be so different?

Devils, with their millennia-long lifespans and frequent bouts of boredom, found the Rating Games to be a refreshing novelty and readily embraced them as a form of entertainment.

While the older, more devilish Devils scoff at the Rating Games, likely viewing them as foolish and trivial, the younger generation has embraced them wholeheartedly, using the Games as an outlet to compete and prove themselves.

Within a century of their introduction, the influence of the Rating Games had grown exponentially in the Underworld.

Today, the Rating Games not only serve as a method for resolving disputes and disagreements among High-Class Devils but also as a means to test and showcase one's strength. They have become so deeply ingrained in the Devil's society that they now play a significant role in determining an individual's social standing within the Underworld.

In fact, the Rating Games have achieved such fame that the Top 10 rankers are practically revered as heroes among the Devils.

Considering the cultural significance the Rating Games have become for the Devil Society within just half a millennium—bringing with them immense wealth, influence, power, and glory aside from fulfilling the objectives it was designed for—it's no surprise that certain individuals exploit and manipulate them to serve their own interests, corrupting the sanctity of the Rating Games. However, that's a matter for another discussion.

What's truly noteworthy here is that considering the immense popularity of the Rating Games among the Devils it's hardly surprising that the stadium hosting the Championship finals is completely packed to capacity.

As he observed the crowd filling the stadium to its very limits, Seir was awed and only one thought crossed his mind: 'It's like watching the FIFA finals between Portugal and Argentina with Ronaldo and Messi serving as their ace players!' Although such a final had never occurred in the history of FIFA, as far as he could recall from the memories of his past life, the sheer level of viewership it would attract on a Global Scale if it ever did was undeniable.

Noticing Seir's awed expression, Roygun smiled and asked, "Surprised, are you?"

"I had no idea so many people were interested in watching the Championship finals…" Seir muttered. He truly hadn't expected this. While billions of Devils hadn't gathered in the stadium—such a thing would be impossible as the population of Devils is not currently that high and no stadium can hold that many people—the stadium, which could hold up to two hundred thousand, was still packed to the brim.

"After all, the championship is held once every 40 years," Roygun explained. "It's only natural that everyone who's interested in the Rating Games and has the means to be here at Agreas would show up."

Of course, aside from the Devils gathered here, many are also watching the Championship finals from their homes. In fact, the four Maou, anticipating that most Devils would want to watch the finals, declared today a national holiday in the Underworld. Naturally, they, too, are interested in the event, and the national holiday gives them an opportunity to take a break from their usual responsibilities as Maou and enjoy the finals with their families.

"Makes sense," Seir nodded in agreement, realizing he had underestimated the influence of the Rating Games in the Underworld.

"To fight in front of so many people... you're really amazing, Roygun. If it were me, I'd definitely get cold feet," Seir said, admiring her.

"Fufufu... Yes, I am amazing, aren't I?" Roygun smiled proudly, thinking to herself, 'Yes, Operation: Make my little brother admire me is a success.'

Of course, Roygun didn't forget to reassure Seir. "But don't worry, Seir. By the time you grow up, I'm sure you'll surpass even me."

In her eyes, compared to her—who relies on certain 'methods' to compete at her current level—Seir's natural genius and hard work would undoubtedly allow him to surpass her. She had no doubt about it.

Seir blinked in surprise at Roygun's words, but before he could give any reply, Lucia, wearing her battle clothes rather than the maid uniform she usually wears, approached the two. She firstly bowed to Seir, then spoke to Roygun, "Mistress… it's almost time… we have been given a heads-up, in half an shour, the finals will begin."

Hearing Lucia's words, Roygun nodded, "I understand…" and added, "I will drop Seir to father and mother's side, then I shall return to the waiting room… Have a short brief over the plan in the meantime, and have everyone ready…"

"As you command," nodded Lucia with a bow and then left towards the waiting room.

After Lucia left, Roygun turned to Seir with a smile. "Well then, let's get you back to Father and Mother."

"Um," Seir nodded in agreement.

"Alright… then come here…" Roygun said as she moved to pick him up in her arms.

However, Seir shook his head. "There's no need; I'll walk."

"Huh? W-walk?" Roygun asked, stunned, before quickly adding in a slightly agitated tone, "Don't you want your elder sister to carry you anymore?"

"It's a bit embarrassing with everyone watching," Seir admitted, scratching his cheek. He wouldn't have minded if there weren't so many people around, but with countless eyes focused on Roygun, he felt self-conscious. He definitely didn't want to be seen being carried in his sister's arms like a baby—after all, he was already over three years old.

"What? Embarrassed? At being carried by your beloved elder sister? Is this what the author meant by the rebellious phase?" Roygun murmured, surprised and thoughtful.

"Huh? Rebellious phase? Author? What are you even talking about, Roygun?" Seir asked, his expression filled with confusion. In just a few seconds, Roygun had thrown around terms and made assumptions that completely blindsided him. 'Is she reading some kind of special book or something?'

Roygun began to speak, "Listen, Seir… no matter what, you cannot act rebellious toward your most beloved elder—" but a gentle voice from behind interrupted her.

"Well, to think I'd run into you here of all places," the man said. "I assumed you'd be in the waiting room making final preparations."

Roygun turned with a smile to the source of the voice and replied, "What can I say? I've already taken care of all the preparations I need. Now, I'm spending time with my dear little brother while I wait."

The man with a gentle demeanor, blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and dressed in refined aristocratic attire raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Hmm? This is unexpected—you seem unusually calm, Roygun."

Roygun chuckled softly. "After all, it's not my first time in the finals."

"And?" the man asked, his tone curious. "Will it be any different this time?"

A determined smile spread across Roygun's face as she said, "My dear little brother has come all this way to watch me. I absolutely intend to win this one."

"Ah, I see," the man said with a nod, before turning to Seir. "And you must be the one she's talking about, right? The reason for Roygun's confidence? Her precious little brother?"

In response, Seir gave a noble's curtsy and nodded respectfully. "Yes, I am her precious little brother Seirios Vandegor Belphegor. It's a pleasure to meet you, Lord Ruval Phenex of the House of Phenex."

Indeed, the person standing in front of Roygun was none other than Ruval Phenex, a High-Class Devil from the Marquessate House of Phenex. He is the eldest son of the current Marquese Phenex and the heir to the House of Phenex. In addition to his prestigious lineage, Ruval is also one of the top ten rankers in the Rating Games and one of the only two pure-blood Devils to have made it into the top 10 without having relied on a [King] piece.

Seir has watched a few of Ruval's Rating Games. Therefore, he recognized the man instantly.

"Hm? What a polite and precocious child you are," praised Ruval with a smile and a nod. "It is an honor to meet you as well. Though you are still young, you show the talent and grace worthy of your esteemed House and your sister, Lady Belphegor. I look forward to seeing the great heights you shall achieve as you grow."

"Thank you, Lord Ruval, you are too kind," Seir replied with a bright smile before turning his gaze towards the haughty child beside Ruval.

Immediately, the little blonde spoke in a haughty tone, "And I am Lord Riser Phenex of the Marquessate House of Phenex. Though I am the third son, I am the most talented of all my brothers. Therefore, I shall graciously allow you to address me as Lord Riser. It is a name that will resound throughout the Underworld within the next two decades. Etch this name into your memory, boy, for your life will fare far better if you do not forget the greatness of Lord Ris–!"

When Riser introduced himself to Seir with his usual haughty attitude, Ruval almost face-palmed in embarrassment. 'This boy!' he thought, smacking Riser on the head in annoyance to stop him. Turning to Seir, he quickly apologized, "I'm sorry for my little brother's insolence… He's just a bit…"

"R… right… I understand… It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Riser," Seir mumbled, his expression flabbergasted. Internally, he couldn't help but think, 'Well, he was a haughty and arrogant guy in the canon… I just didn't expect him to start so young. But then again, his younger sister was also the same… I guess this is something inherent. Ah… but Lord Ruval doesn't seem to have such a temperament! Hmm… strange…'

While Seir nodded in understanding, Riser was completely clueless and angrily questioned Ruval, "Hey, elder brother… what was that for? Why did you hit me all of a sudden?"

Ruval, clearly not in the mood to explain, let out a light sigh and instructed firmly, "Properly introduce yourself to Lady Belphegor. If you can't manage a proper introduction, I'll send you back to the castle, and you won't be allowed to watch the finals."

"What? No, you can't do that!" Riser protested, visibly shocked.

"Trust me, little brother, I can, and I will," Ruval replied with a radiant yet unsettlingly kind smile. Despite his gentle expression, a dark aura radiated from his body, making it abundantly clear to Riser that Ruval wasn't joking in the slightest.

Realizing the seriousness of the situation—his chance to watch the once-in-four-decades Rating Game Championship finals now at risk—Riser knew he had to step up his game and properly greet the lady. Determined, he shifted his full attention to her.

It was only now, for the first time, that he truly looked at her. Before this, his focus had been divided—half distracted by the bustling crowd visible through the glass as he looked forward to watching the finals, and the other half on the pipsqueak standing before him.

But now, he was truly looking at her.

As his gaze fully landed on her, taking in the form, Riser froze, taken aback. 'Huh? Isn't she…'

In Riser's eyes, in front of him stood a she-devil of unparalleled beauty, her presence both enchanting and unsettling him as if sculpted by the hands of a capricious deity, especially for him. Her figure was a masterpiece of seduction, and it worked like the most beautiful charm on him. With an alluring hourglass shape that boasted a slim, tantalizing waist, full thighs, and a large bust that seemed to defy the mortal realm's sense of perfection, he couldn't take his eyes off her.

Her skin was luminous and fair, carrying an almost otherworldly sheen, as though touched by the fires of the abyss yet left flawless and unmarred, like the flames of a Phoenix. Cascading down her back in long, wavy locks was her sakura-colored hair, each strand seeming to shimmer faintly with an unearthly light, as if imbued with the essence of forbidden magics.

Adorning her head was a pair of regal, curved horns, smooth and dark, like polished obsidian, a testament to her pure blood lineage from the noble House of Belphegor. They framed her delicate face with a striking contrast that drew all eyes to her piercing gaze. Her eyes were not just windows to her soul but portals to something far more profound. Riser could see a fire burning through them as their vivid hue was a mix of molten gold and crimson, swirling together in mesmerizing chaos.

Her lips, full and tempting, curved into a faint smile that held equal parts allure and danger, hinting at the dark secrets she carried and the power she wielded. Even though she stood before him silently, Riser felt that even the most minute movement, like the rising and falling of her chest as she breathed, was an exquisite dance of elegance and dominance and a subtle reminder of her predatory grace.

Her aura was intoxicating for him, radiating an irresistible mix of desire and dread as if every fiber of her being was designed to lure and subdue him. Around her, the air itself seemed to hum faintly raising the thumping of his heart as though it was about to be charged with the promise of pleasure and peril in equal measure. She was not just beautiful—she was a creature of the abyss, an embodiment of temptation and terror, impossible to look away from and even harder to resist for him.

Rizer felt so captivated by Roygun's beauty that he stood there frozen and didn't even realize when he instinctively bent down on one knee. With his cheeks on fire, he murmured under his breath as he requested Roygun's hand, "Too beautiful… my Lady… if you would be so kind to…"

"Oh my…" Roygun chuckled softly, clearly amused by Riser's dramatic behavior toward her. The sight of a seven or eight-year-old child kneeling before her as he blushed furiously, requesting her hand with hearts in his eyes and offering her compliments, was unexpectedly entertaining, and she decided to play along for a moment.

Ruval, on the other hand, was far from amused. Watching Riser kneel and request Roygun's hand while lavishing her with praise and looking at her with his cheeks on fire and hearts in his eyes, Ruval face-palmed in sheer frustration. A sigh escaped his lips as he prepared to intervene and save them from further embarrassment.

However, before Ruval could act, Seir stepped in, beating him to the punch.

Jumping between Riser and Roygun, before she could offer her hand to Riser, Seir swiftly interrupted, "Alright, that's enough." He turned to Roygun, gesturing toward Riser as he said, "Sister, this fire chicken here is Riser Phenex. Even if you don't remember his name, it's fine. In fact, it's probably better that you don't. Yes, you shouldn't remember his name at all, trust me on this one."

Without missing a beat, Seir took the hand Roygun was about to offer to Riser and continued, "Now, if I'm not mistaken… Before Lord Ruval and this little fire chicken interrupted us, you were about to escort me back to Father and Mother's side and then return to the waiting room, right? You'd get late if you didn't return to the waiting room immediately, remember?"

Caught off guard by Seir's sudden, out-of-character actions, Roygun nodded instinctively, "Ah… that's right."

"Yes, thankfully, you remember," Seir affirmed with a relieved breath before turning to Ruval. With a polite bow, he said, "Please excuse us, Lord Ruval. My elder sister needs to prepare for the finals, and she also needs to escort me back to our parents… so…"

Ruval, momentarily surprised, nodded in agreement. "Ah, yes, of course, I understand."

With a smile, Seir replied, "I'm grateful for your understanding, truly. You are too kind." Then, without giving Ruval or Riser a chance to protest, he began leading Roygun away. "Let's go, Sister. Let's go before I suddenly feel like making an order for fried chicken for a snack."

As Seir led Roygun away, she smiled at Ruval and waved goodbye. "I'll see you later, wish me luck."

Ruval gave a slight nod. "Yes, all the best, Roygun. I'll be rooting for you as I watch the game."

"Thank you, Ruval," Roygun said, expressing her appreciation before disappearing from the area.

Once they were gone, Ruval turned to his little brother, Riser, who was still kneeling, frozen in place as he murmured, "Fi… Fire Chicken? That little brat dared to call Riser Fire Chicken? A Fire Chicken? And he threatened to make a KFC order out of Riser? Damn him! How dare he insult Riser with such a lowly taunt! Riser is an immortal Phoenix! An immortal Phoenix from the House of Phenex! Not a… lowly chicken! He'll pay for this. Riser will come up with an even more humiliating name for him… just you wait, boy. The price for calling Riser a Fire Chicken won't be sma–!"

Riser's murmuring was abruptly interrupted by Ruval, who asked, "Riser, shall we go?"

Riser paused, then remembered Ruval's earlier words and asked, "To the VIP Box, right?"

Ruval didn't respond, merely staring at him in silence as a small smile appeared on his lips.

Horrified, with tears welling up in his eyes, Riser asked again, "To the VIP Box, right?"

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On the other side, after Seir led Roygun away from the Phenex brothers, the cherry blossom-haired Devil smiled softly, amused as she watched him confidently lead the way, unaware whether they were heading in the right direction. After a while, when they started going the wrong way, Roygun effortlessly scooped him up into her arms before he could react, saying, "We need to go this way."

"Alright..." Seir nodded, not resisting as Roygun held him.

Blinking in surprise, Roygun's smile grew wider as she asked, "Someone was embarrassed earlier at being held by his dear elder sister... but now there's no problem. I wonder why that is?"

Seir gave no reply, "..." just buried his head into her shoulders.

Although Seir didn't say anything, Roygun clearly understood everything. She smiled gleefully and thought to herself, 'Although the encounter with Ruval and his little brother was unexpected, the result isn't so bad. At least the Operation: "Make my little brother stand up for me in front of other men before they can take my hand" was a success.'

Feeling pleased with the success of another operation, Roygun's steps lightened, and she made her way toward the VIP box.

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Arriving at the VIP box, Roygun met with Sephie to drop off Seir.

"Is it time already?" Sephie asked, holding Seir's hand.

"Yes, Mother… I will be going," Roygun nodded.

"Alright then… do your best," Sephie smiled, offering her encouragement.

"I will…" Roygun replied with a determined nod.

At that moment, Seir suddenly spread his wings and flew up to Roygun, planting a quick kiss on her cheek. "All the best, Roygun…"

Surprised by Seir's gesture, Roygun blinked, her eyes fluttering. She gently touched the spot where he kissed her, then gave a determined smile. "I will. I'll win this for sure…"

With that, Roygun left for the waiting room.

Once Roygun disappeared from view, Seir and Sephie entered the VIP box. Sephie turned to Seir and said, "Seir, dear, there's someone I'd like to introduce you to."

"Hm? Who is it?" Seir asked, tilting his head in confusion.

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Bael Castle, Ba'al – the Capital City of Great King Bael Domain, Underworld

"Mother, when are we leaving? At this rate, we'll be late," Sairaorg asked, looking at his mother with eager anticipation.

Misla hesitated, forcing a smile as she replied, "Uh, well… why don't we watch the finals together from my room instead?"

"Hm? From your room? Why? Aren't we going to Agreas?" Sairaorg asked, his brows furrowing with concern, sensing that something wasn't right.

"It's… it's just that Mother isn't feeling well today," Misla explained, her voice soft but strained. "I feel like my health might worsen if I go somewhere crowded…"

Her heart ached as she watched Sairaorg's hopeful expression shift into one of disappointment. Desperate to lift his spirits, she quickly added, "But look on the bright side! I've prepared all your favorite snacks. I bet you wouldn't get treats like these there—they're something special, just for here."

Sairaorg's eyes glistened with a hint of realization as his voice wavered. "But… but I promised Seir we'd watch the finals together… and you promised I could go too…"

Misla stood frozen, unable to find the words to respond, "I… I…!"

Seeing her silent, Sairaorg lowered his head, and tears began streaming down his face. "It's Father, isn't it? He doesn't want me to go, right? It's because he is ashamed of my existence that he doesn't want me to… It's because I wasn't born with any Demonic Power… because I didn't inherit the [Power of Destruction]... because… because I'm a… I'm a defect…"

Tears welled up in Misla's eyes as she pulled him into a tight embrace. "No… no, Sai, it's not like that…" she whispered, her voice breaking as tears rolled down her cheeks. "You are not a defect… you… you are!"

"Then… why? Why does Father always mistreat me? Why won't he ever let me step outside? Why… why is it that he…" Sairaorg's voice broke as tears streamed down his face.

Misla's heart ached as she gently wiped his tears, trying to reassure him. "He just doesn't know what a wonderful child you are… If he truly knew… if he understood, then he…" She trailed off, her voice trembling with emotion, unable to fully finish her thought.

Sairaorg sobbed into her arms, his small frame trembling with sorrow. The weight of his pain tore at Misla's heart, and she continued to reassure him, holding him close. Gradually, his cries softened, and exhaustion took over as he fell asleep in her embrace.

Misla gently laid him down on the bed, her hands trembling. Sitting beside him, she whispered brokenly, "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry… It's my fault… It's all my fault… that… that…"

From a distance, Misla's butler watched her cry, his fists clenched tightly. His helplessness weighed on him as he stood in silence, unable to ease their pain.

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Author's Note:

That's it for this Chapter. Enjoy reading it.

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