"I may have approved you, but it will be difficult to convince others of your strength. So, I granted you a gift—this will make you a God among men," Rizevim declared, his tone dripping with arrogance.
Afterward, he implanted the Boosted Gear into Riser, explaining with casual indifference how he had found it.
According to Rizevim, the Sacred Gear had been extracted from the lifeless corpse of a boy murdered in a park.
This particular Boosted Gear contained none other than the soul of the legendary Red Dragon Emperor, Ddraig.
Rizevim even jested cruelly about the incompetence of the Fallen Angels.
He mocked their ignorance, laughing as he recounted how they mistook this Sacred Gear for a mere Critical Twice Gear during their extraction.
Their mistake allowed them to hand it over without realizing its true potential, gifting it to him in exchange for more power.
He didn't hold back, either, making a point to ridicule Raynare.
"That dumb bitch couldn't even tell the difference between a trash-tier Sacred Gear and one imbued with the soul of a dragon. How pathetic," he sneered, his disdain palpable.
When Riser, puzzled, asked how he—a pure-blood devil—could even wield a Sacred Gear supposedly restricted to humans, Rizevim chuckled darkly before revealing the truth.
He explained that the advanced research stolen by the Old Satan Faction from Gregory, handed over by Kokabiel after earning Azazel's trust, had made this possible.
The devils, through this forbidden knowledge, had learned how to implant Sacred Gears into themselves.
However, Rizevim mused that this knowledge had gone largely unused among devils, thanks to their own arrogance. "Most of us consider anything tied to God's creations beneath us. That pride has kept many of our kind from making use of such power, even when it could elevate them beyond their limitations."
As Rizevim rambled on about devils, fallen angels, Sacred Gears, and other topics, Riser found himself lost in thought.
A profound question lingered in his mind: had his actions in altering the timeline indirectly caused the death of Hyoudou Issei?
The boy who, in another timeline, would have been saved by Rias Gremory.
The boy who was supposed to survive and grow into the Red Dragon Emperor—the boy who, in another timeline, would have shaped the future—was now dead.
Strangely, Riser found no satisfaction in this knowledge. He felt no joy, no triumph, nor even sorrow. There was only a chilling indifference.
Yet, at the same time, he recognized the irony
He couldn't deny that Issei's death had been beneficial. It had granted him this newfound power, the Boosted Gear—a gift that would have been impossible in the previous timeline.
"It's done," Rizevim declared, his grin as smug as ever. "Now, you are your own man, Adolf Riser. Also, congratulations—you are now the Red Dragon Emperor."
Riser nodded, his expression unreadable as he slipped his tailored red suit back on.
The suit complemented his refined demeanor, and the mustache he displayed added an air of sophistication and a touch of flamboyance to his already haughty presence.
As he prepared to leave, Riser turned to Le Fay, who had been silently observing the proceedings.
Without a word, the two departed.
His next destination was clear: it was time to face his family and confront them about his decision to run away from home.
However, before that, the companion beside him seemed as though she wanted to speak with him.
"Riser, let's run away. It's not too late; it never has to be too late," Le Fay Pendragon pleaded desperately, her voice trembling with urgency.
"Why?" Riser turned to look at her, his expression laced with confusion and amusement, as though her panic was an overreaction.
"I have to admit... the fault lies entirely with me, Riser. I was the one who brought you to him. Rizevim is a madman—a dangerous, unpredictable madman," she began, her voice breaking slightly as she tried to articulate her thoughts.
"He changed his entire plan for just one man. Do you realize how absurd that is? He single-handedly destroyed what was supposed to be an alliance between the Old Satan Faction and the Hero Faction, and he did it on a mere whim. Without hesitation, he pulled the entire Old Satan Faction out of the Chaos Brigade."
Le Fay paused to catch her breath, her hands trembling as she continued.
"He can betray the Hero Faction, or anyone else for that matter, if it suits his plans and needs. Do you honestly think he wouldn't do the same to you? How could he not?" Her expression was heavy with regret, her words nearly a whisper as she sighed deeply.
The weight of her guilt was palpable.
She regretted ever accepting Rizevim's offer to bring Riser to him. She had inadvertently dragged Riser into this chaotic mess—one he might never escape.
When Rizevim wanted something, he took it. That was his nature.
Le Fay had seen it for herself, the way Rizevim's gaze lingered on Riser with a twisted sense of fascination.
It wasn't ordinary. It wasn't sane. To her, it was a sick, distorted version of mentorship.
Rizevim wanted to pour all his ideologies, schemes, and twisted machinations into Riser.
He wanted Riser to become something—a role, a person—that Rizevim himself could never be.
This much was clear to her from every interaction she had witnessed between them.
And the consequences were just as clear.
Reinforcing Serafall with members of the Old Satan Faction had severed ties with the Hero Faction, who were also enemies of Serafall.
This act of betrayal wasn't just reckless; it was unthinkable.
Kokabiel, another key member of the Chaos Brigade, would undoubtedly feel betrayed by the actions of the Old Satan Faction.
Le Fay never imagined that simply bringing Riser to Rizevim would escalate into this unmitigated disaster.
"Then tell me, Le Fay—where should we run?" Riser's voice was calm.
"Anywhere is better than here. Your engagement with Rias still holds, doesn't it? I believe Sirzechs would protect you if you reached out to him," Le Fay replied, her voice steadier now, though her eyes still betrayed her anxiety.
"You have a point, but I would never mean anything in this world if I ran away," Riser said, letting out a heavy sigh. "In the past, I was nothing more than a playboy, a spoiled noble, a rejected painter, and a failure in every sense of the word. Those failures defined me as an individual. I lost my way so many times, Le Fay. But now... now, I've found it."
"But I never saw you as a failure, Riser," Le Fay stated firmly, her voice carrying both determination and affection. "You are a gentle, warm-hearted man. You're someone who brought joy to my days with your paintings and your jesting. Why do you always think so little of yourself? Why, Riser?"
"Yes, why?" Riser echoed her question, letting it echo in his mind like a haunting refrain.
He pondered it deeply, over and over, until the truth emerged like a painful wound reopened.
Finally, he answered, his voice low but steady. "Because I never loved myself, Le Fay."
"But I love you, Riser. I truly, deeply do," she said, her tone soft yet unwavering.
Her eyes glistened with unspoken emotion as she reached out to him. "Please, don't do this to yourself anymore. Don't hate yourself."
Her words pierced through the armor of his self-loathing, and for the first time, Riser turned his full attention to her.
His gaze was heavy with both vulnerability and an almost dangerous intensity. "If you can stay with me until the bitter, bloody end... if you can bear to see every side of me—my monstrous side, my broken inside—then I will give you the answer you deserve, Le Fay."
Le Fay pouted, her lips forming a small but determined curve.
Without hesitation, she placed her delicate hand against his cheek, pulling him closer.
Her breath mingled with his as her lips brushed against his own, and then she kissed him deeply, unapologetically.
Her tongue pressed against his with fervent passion, her desire and frustration evident in every motion.
She poured her heart into that kiss, refusing to hold anything back.
Then she pushed him away, her cheeks flushed with both anger and affection.
"Idiot," she snapped, her voice trembling but resolute. "You still hate yourself, even now. You don't trust me. More importantly, you don't trust yourself. You keep believing that my love for you, my impression of you, will wither over time. But listen to me, Riser—hear me out. I will stay with you until the end. I will be your strength when you need it most. I will fulfill my duty as your lover."
Her voice softened as she continued, but the resolve in her words only grew stronger.
"I will leave the Chaos Brigade. I will sever my ties with Britannia. I am no longer bound to them. My loyalty now lies with you, Adolf Riser. Will you accept my love, my sincerity, and my allegiance?" she asked, her words barely above a whisper, her vulnerability laid bare before him.
Riser's expression hardened, not in resistance but in the firm realization of her devotion.
He reached out, pulling her into his embrace. His voice was deep and unwavering as he replied, "I do, Le Fay Pendragon. From this day forward, you will be mine and only mine."
And with those words, he closed the distance between them once more, pressing his lips to hers with a fervor that matched her earlier passion.
His arms wrapped around her tightly, refusing to let her go, as though anchoring himself to her light in his darkness.
Under the blood-red sky, they kissed with a raw intensity, their emotions laid bare in the face of an uncertain future.