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Rizevim vanished. A sonic boom echoed through the air—like a supersonic jet taking flight.
"Did you think I'd stick around for a gangbang? Not a chance!" His voice, distorted by his speed, reached them only after he'd disappeared.
"That bastard! Get back here!" Vali, still wounded, struggled to get up, only to collapse, his body refusing to cooperate.
"Go, Vali, nya~!!! ...Oops, he fell down." Kuroka's attempt to cheer Vali on ended abruptly.
"That shameless coward... is a Lucifer? No wonder Sirzechs is the current Maou..." Rias muttered, watching Rizevim's hasty retreat. She'd been expecting a fight.
"Asia, go heal the white dragon, please," Pandora said, still nuzzling Ophis, her gaze turning towards Asia.
"O-okay!" Asia hurried over to Vali.
"Haru... where did he go?" Akeno looked around the room, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"He was just here...!" Ravel said, her voice laced with panic. Haru had been standing beside her only moments ago.
"He's gone after that clown," Athena said calmly, feeding Ophis a cookie.
High above the Underworld, Rizevim soared through the air, his twelve black Devil wings—a mark of his Pure-blooded heritage—propelling him at supersonic speeds, sonic booms echoing in his wake.
He executed sharp, ninety-degree turns, trying to shake off pursuers he knew weren't there. After several hours of flight, he descended, landing before a massive tree, its trunk thicker than ten men could encircle.
"Home sweet home..." He hummed, approaching the tree with a swagger. The surface rippled, and he passed through the bark, entering the tree's interior.
Inside, a magic circle, bearing the crest of the Old Maou Lucifer, glowed faintly.
This was one of the Khaos Brigade's mobile teleportation circles, its location constantly shifting. Rizevim had used a special device to pinpoint its current coordinates.
The circle's destination—the Khaos Brigade's headquarters.
As Rizevim stepped into the circle, the light intensified.
The world around him distorted, and he materialized within a dimly lit church.
"That Red Dragon Emperor... he fell for it! And Vali... he's getting stronger. I almost couldn't handle him today. I'll have to deal with him later... perhaps a sneak attack..." Rizevim, recalling his earlier escape, chuckled to himself.
A sickening tearing sound echoed through the church, followed by the splatter of blood.
An arm flew through the air.
Rizevim stared at the severed limb, which landed on the floor before him. His arm.
He looked at his right shoulder, now... empty.
His right arm... had been ripped off.
As the realization sunk in, a wave of excruciating pain washed over him, his face contorting in agony.
His scream echoed through the underground temple.
"Who?! Who the hell did that?! Show yourself!!"
Clutching his bleeding shoulder, Rizevim frantically scanned the room, his eyes bloodshot.
Seeing no one, his rage intensified. His twelve Devil wings expanded, transforming into massive black scythes that whirled around him like a shredder.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The church's walls crumbled, sliced into countless pieces, then reduced to rubble by the relentless assault.
In a matter of seconds, the church was in ruins.
A hand reached out from beneath the debris.
Rizevim's eyes narrowed, and his black wings, now razor-sharp blades, sliced through the hand, severing it.
"AAAAAHHHHH!!! My hand!!" A scream echoed through the ruins—a familiar scream.
Rizevim paused. 'That voice...'
"Euclid? Is that you?"
"What the hell, Rizevim?! Are you crazy?!" A voice—filled with pain and anger—came from beneath the rubble.
Rizevim's wings shifted, forming a giant hand that swiftly cleared the debris, revealing Euclid, his left arm severed.
Euclid quickly produced a golden goblet, a few drops of crimson blood swirling within it.
It was the Sephiroth Graal, one of the Thirteen Longinus—the holy grail said to have been used at the Last Supper, capable of defying the laws of life and death.
It possessed the power to reverse or twist life itself, granting a degree of immortality, healing even the most grievous wounds, and even resurrecting those whose bodies had been destroyed but whose souls remained.
A holy aura emanated from the grail, enveloping Euclid. The color returned to his face, which had been pale from blood loss.
His severed arm twitched, flesh and bone regenerating at a visible rate.
Rizevim grinned, his eyes fixed on the grail. Black demonic energy surged around him, forming a hand that snatched the Sephiroth Graal from Euclid's grasp. "I'm going to borrow this for a bit, Euclid, my boy."
"My arm hasn't even finished regenerating, you idiot!" Euclid roared, looking up—
Then, his eyes widened in horror.
Two figures stood before him.
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