April 28th, 2012, Runeas Arena, Morning.
A tense, silent dread had filled the preparation room, so thick it was like a ghost haunting the space between them.
Rias Gremory stood rigidly, her crimson hair a stark contrast to the pallor of her face. Her hands, clenched into white-knuckled fists at her sides, trembled with a fine, constant vibration. She was a statue of apprehension, her gaze fixed on some unseen, terrifying future.
"Calm down, Rias, you are too nervous," Akeno's voice was a soft, melodic counterpoint to the stifling anxiety. She moved behind her king, her hands coming to rest on Rias's shoulders. The queen's touch was meant to be soothing, but she immediately felt the rock-hard tension coiled within her friend's muscles.
"Your shoulders are hard as stone," Akeno murmured, her tone laced with gentle concern. "Come on, breathe and relax." She began to knead the taut flesh, feeling the entire frame of the Gremory heiress shudder beneath her fingers.
Rias let out a breath she seemed to have been holding for an eternity. "I know, Akeno," she whispered, the sound strained. "But this is probably the most critical day of my life."
The words felt heavy and true as they left her lips.
"If we win, not only is the marriage contract with Riser over, but I will have made a great debut. I fear not only my family and the Phenex House are present here today."
Her eyes darted towards the sealed door, as if she could see through it to the gathered, watching dignitaries.
"But if we lose..." Her voice broke, and the unspoken consequence hung in the air, more potent than any spoken threat. "I will also shame myself in front of the whole Underworld."
The weight of her name, of her lineage, pressed down upon her. While the Rating Game wasn't an official one and there would be no live recordings, the rumor of a Phenex scion's match was a siren call for the devil aristocracy.
It was uncertain, but terrifyingly probable, that someone would manage to witness the match, that word of her failure or victory would spread like wildfire through the social strata of their society.
A Rating Game involving a member of the renowned Phenex House was always an acclaimed and eagerly appreciated spectacle.
On the opposite side of the stadium, in a preparation room that buzzed with casual confidence, the Phenex peerage awaited their teleportation. The atmosphere was light, almost dismissive. Riser Phenex, preening before a polished reflective surface, addressed his followers with a languid wave of his hand.
"Listen here, everyone," he began, his voice dripping with bored superiority. "Let's end this quickly so we can be home for lunch, okay? I don't want to waste any more time with Rias' childish tantrums."
Having delivered his command, he stroked a perfectly styled lock of his hair, a practiced gesture meant for an audience, already envisioning the applause and the favorable reviews. The match was merely an inconvenient prelude to his victory banquet.
"Moreover," he added, a sharper edge creeping into his tone, "I want to show all the Underworld that I am just as good as my brother, Ruval."
At his side, his younger sister, Ravel, let out a soft, weary sigh. "Are you still thinking about the lesson Brother gave you?" she asked, her voice flat.
The memory of the sound, humiliating beating their eldest brother, the heir and a celebrated Rating Games master, had administered to Riser was still fresh.
"Obviously not!" Riser remarked, his voice cracking with a pitch that betrayed his forced nonchalance. He straightened his cuffs, avoiding her perceptive gaze. "I am simply stating the truth here," he insisted, carefully sidestepping any further specification about the prodigious Ruval.
"If you say so," Ravel dismissed the matter with a deliberate roll of her eyes, turning her attention away from her brother's fragile ego.
The disembodied, magically amplified voice of the system countdown echoed through both rooms, cutting short all further conversation.
[Both peerages please stand on the teleportation platform. The Rating Game is starting in 3... 2... 1...]
A dizzying lurch, a flash of blinding light, and then the world resolved itself into unsettling familiarity.
"This is... Kuoh Academy?" Irumi's voice was filled with confusion as the Gremory peerage materialized onto the grassy quad. The air smelled of cherry blossoms and cut grass, and the buildings stood silent and imposing around them. "President, why are we at school?"
A bitter smile touched Rias's lips. "Riser conceded to let me choose our battleground,"
"But it will cost him greatly," she added, her voice hardening as she surveyed the landscape. Here, amidst the corridors and classrooms she walked daily, she held a territorial advantage that his arrogance had underestimated.
This familiar ground was her fortress.
A clear, authoritative voice, cool and precise as ice, rang out across the entire dimension, emanating from nowhere and everywhere at once.
"Good morning. My name is Grayfia Lucifuge, servant of the Gremory House. I have been tasked by both the House Phenex and Gremory to be the referee of this Rating Game. Taking into consideration the opinions of Lord Riser and Lady Rias, the Rating Game dimension is an exact replica of the Kuoh Academy in the human world."
Grayfia continued, her tone devoid of any partiality.
"The peerages have been sent to their respective headquarters. Lady Rias' one is in the Occult Research Clubroom located in the Old School Building on the south. Lord Riser's headquarters are instead in the Principal's office on the north. Pawns will be able to promote upon reaching the enemy base." A moment of silence followed before her final, fateful words.
"Without further delays. Let the Rating Game begin."
"Senpai, take this," Koneko said, her small hand offering Irumi a red earpiece. "We'll use this to communicate with each other across the battlefield," Rias clarified, securing her own. The tiny devices became their lifelines, a network of sound in the sprawling, silent battlefield.
With the formalities over, a new, focused energy filled the Gremory peerage. They gathered around the large desk in the heart of the Occult Research Clubroom, their sanctuary and command center. Spread before them was a detailed planimetry of the academy, a map of their imminent war.
"President, what is our plan of action?" Kiba asked, his blue eyes sharp and analytical as they scanned the parchment.
Rias leaned over the map, her finger tracing a path. "Riser is in the New School Building. As you know, there are two main ways to arrive there."
The strategic points glowed in her mind's eye—avenues of advance, potential kill zones, avenues for ambush.
"Let's just burst through the main entrance!" Irumi suggested, her natural impulsiveness surfacing. "It is an open space; we don't risk being ambushed, no?"
Her enthusiasm was bright and untempered.
"That's true," Rias acknowledged, "but we have a number disadvantage. Better not to risk it." The cold arithmetic of the situation—eight against fifteen—was a constant, sobering reminder.
Kiba, his strategist's mind already working, pointed to a different route on the map. "What about passing through the athletic field and the back entrance?"
Akeno, ever perceptive, shook her head gently. "I think the Phenex would expect that. Attacking the rear is too obvious."
"We must be careful about the queen," Koneko added, her voice a small, serious murmur. "She outranges most of us."
Then, Irumi spoke again, her insight surprising the others. "I think they will probably try to charge at us. When you are exceeding the enemy 3 to 1, it is the most logical thing to do." The statement was delivered with a simple, undeniable logic that cut through their more complicated theorizing.
"That's smart... I didn't expect it coming from you, Senpai," Koneko remarked, a flicker of genuine respect in her large eyes.
A proud grin spread across Irumi's face. "Yeah, did you see? Master Kohryu explained it to me!" she boasted, thrilled to have contributed meaningfully.
Deep within her soul, a ancient, powerful voice resonated with a note of caution. 'This is your first real battle, partner. The first of many. Do not be reckless.'
'Yeees,' Irumi mentally replied with a sigh, the dragon's warning tempering her excitement.
"Following Irumi's reasoning," Rias said, seizing on the idea, "Riser will certainly send against us his pawns and maybe even his high-speed knights." The enemy's movements were becoming predictable in their overwhelming confidence.
Kiba saw the opportunity. "I suggest we take the gymnasium. It is in the center of the school ground, and from there we can reach the New School Building easily."
Rias nodded, a spark of strategic clarity igniting in her eyes. "Like the center of the chessboard," she murmured to herself, the analogy perfect. The gymnasium was a pivot point, a position of control.
"Right. We have a plan. In a closed space like that, a rook is a better choice than a knight." Her gaze then fell upon Koneko. "Koneko, do you think you can handle it? Just in case, Irumi, go with her."
She then turned to the others, her voice assuming the clear, commanding tone of a king. "Akeno, place a curtain of defensive spells around the building. Yuuto, you scout for the position of our adversaries. When we have a view of their movements, Koneko and Irumi can move towards the gymnasium." She looked at each of their faces, seeing the fear, the determination, the trust. "Is everything clear?"
A unified, resolute shout answered her, filling the clubroom with a sudden, fierce energy.
"Yes!"
April 28, 2012, VIP Booth, Morning.
The muffled silence of the VIP booth was shattered by the door sliding open, admitting Makoto Yuki just as the final echoes of Grayfia's starting announcement faded from the stadium.
For a moment, he stood as a quiet observer, his blue eyes taking in the opulent, secluded space that smelled of polished wood and anticipatory magic.
That moment of calm was instantly obliterated.
"Makooo!" The cry was a sing-song explosion of energy as Serafall Leviathan, a whirlwind of vibrant color and unrestrained affection, launched herself at him.
She rushed to hug the Messiah, her arms wrapping around him in a grip that was surprisingly strong for her frame. Makoto, long accustomed to the Leviathan's particular brand of effusiveness, simply endured the embrace, his own posture remaining a placid rock against the storm of her enthusiasm.
"How are you feeling?" Serafall asked, her voice muffled against his shoulder before she pulled back, her hands on his arms, her wide, expressive eyes searching his face with genuine concern. "Did the Bael Ancestor put bad thoughts in your head?"
The question was half-teasing, yet underpinned by a real fear.
Before Makoto could form a reply, another, more measured presence made itself known. "You must be Makoto Yuki."
The voice was calm, resonant, and carried an innate authority. The figure of Sirzechs moved into the center of the room, his crimson hair a beacon of subdued power. His expression was a polite mask, but his eyes held a complex mixture of gratitude, curiosity, and a leader's sharp assessment.
"Nice to meet you, I am Sirzechs Gremory."
He offered his hand, a simple, human gesture that felt weighted with cosmic significance. As Makoto reached out to shake it, Sirzechs' other hand simultaneously took a gentle but firm hold of Serafall's collar.
"Sera, please control yourself," he said, his tone casual yet leaving no room for argument, a quiet command that effortlessly reasserted the room's decorum.
The handshake was brief, a silent acknowledgment passing between them that held a universe of unspoken words—thanks for Rias, apologies for the political tightrope, a warning about Zekram.
But before any of those threads could be pulled, the air in front of them shimmered and coalesced. A large, magical screen materialized, its surface resolving into a crystal-clear image of the replicated Kuoh Academy.
Grayfia's voice, cool and explanatory, began to narrate the fundamental rules of the Game, her commentary seamlessly syncing with the visual feed.
The external world faded as the internal one erupted into a familiar, chaotic chorus.
'Fancy!' Cendrillon's voice trilled with delight within the shared space of Makoto's soul. 'I can see myself doing a lot of beautiful performances thanks to a technology like this!'
Her attention, however, was quickly captured by a specific figure on the screen.
'Oh, that's Akeno! Go Akeno!' the Ash Princess rejoiced, her spirit lifting as she watched the half-fallen angel, her student in the art of graceful power, diligently setting up a series of intricate traps and defensive spells, her familiar fluttering attentively at her side.
The scene was one of tactical preparation, but not all Personas perceived it as such.
'Sheeee's just playing with her aniiimal,' screeched Fafnir, his voice a distorted, greedy whine, completely misreading the strategic safeguarding as frivolity.
'No, hee hoo. She is safeguarding their base, hee hoo,' Jack Frost piped up, his explanation earnest and cheerful, a small spot of clarity amid the dragon's confusion.
'Jackie, did you teach her doing it?' Cendrillon asked, momentarily distracted from her cheering. 'I am quite sure I didn't cover anything like that.'
'You were busy wreaking havoc,' Odin's single, knowing eye seemed to roll in their collective consciousness. ''Safeguard' isn't in your dictionary, girl.'
'That's not true! Universe, Odin is being mean to me!' Cendrillon whined, her theatrical pout a psychic sensation that Makoto acknowledged and then gently set aside.
The view on the massive screen shifted, pulling away from the Old School Building to focus on the advancing Phenex forces.
In a seamless cut, the perspective changed again, now revealing Kiba, hidden in the shadows of an alley, his body coiled with the tension of a predator lying in ambush, watching the two knights approach.
The sophistication of the broadcast work prompted a question in Makoto's mind, pulling his focus back to the physical world.
"Is Grayfia managing the broadcasting too?" he asked, his voice quiet but clear.
"Grayfia is only doing the referee," Sirzechs clarified, his own gaze returning to the screen where his sister's fate was beginning to unfold. "It is actually Sona conveying the Rating Game."
April 28th, 2012, Rating Game Dimension, Morning
In the Occult Research Clubroom, Rias stood like a general at her map, her focus absolute. The crackle of the earpiece broke the silence.
"President, the enemies are reaching the Old School Building illusion," Kiba's voice reported, calm and steady, a stark contrast to the adrenaline she knew must be coursing through him.
"How many of them?" Rias asked, her fingers tightening imperceptibly on the edge of the desk.
"Two, both knights. They seem to be alone; I am not seeing anyone else," the blonde knight replied.
A spark of satisfaction ignited within her.
"Good. Once they discover the illusion, take care of them. Then Koneko and Irumi will have free roam towards the gymnasium." The first move of their delicate gambit was about to be played.
Outside, bathed in the eerie, artificial sunlight, the two Phenex knights, Karlamine and Siris, approached the Old School Building.
Karlamine, her hair tucked under a white headband, peered at the structure, her green eyes narrowed in suspicion. Her armor, a unique fusion of European plate and samurai aesthetics, gleamed.
"Is this their base?" she questioned, her hand resting on the hilt of her backsword. "Siris, should we burst in?"
Siris, a tall, imposing figure with an incredible cascade of blue hair tied into five long ponytails, scanned the surroundings with a veteran's wariness. The massive zweihander on her back seemed to hum with potential energy.
"Now that we found them, we only need to gain enough time for the others to arrive. Isabela and Mihae should be just behind us," she reasoned, though a frown marred her features. "Don't you find it strange that we didn't see any of the Gremory's servants yet?"
Her doubt was proven prophetic. In a shimmering, silent wave, the solid image of the Old School Building dissolved into nothingness, revealing the empty space it had concealed. It was a masterful illusion, now stripped away.
"A trap!?" Karlamine's voice was a sharp gasp of alarm.
Their eyes dropped to the ground as a complex, glowing magic circle—the crest of House Gremory—flared to life beneath their feet, its light etching patterns of confinement on the pavement.
"I am sorry, knights of the Phenex peerage." Kiba's voice was polite, almost apologetic, as he stepped from the shadows of a nearby alleyway. "I am afraid your Game is over. You have fallen into one of the traps placed by our queen. You can't escape." He stood with a duelist's grace, his expression serene.
"Don't be so full of yourself!" Karlamine snarled, her pride stung. She unsheathed her weapon in a single, fluid motion. "I am Karlamine, proud knight of Lord Riser!"
Siris, more measured but no less determined, drew her enormous zweihander, the metal singing as it cleared its scabbard. "You are two versus one. Don't celebrate too soon," she warned, her voice a low, steady rumble.
"Apologies. I did not mean to disrespect you," Kiba replied, offering a respectful bow that was both courteous and disconcertingly confident. "I am Kiba Yuuto, knight of Rias Gremory."
With the formalities concluded, the space between them crackled with imminent violence.
Karlamine moved first, a silver blur closing the distance with startling speed. Her goal was simple and direct: to disarm him. But Kiba was already in motion, his body flowing away from the attempt with an almost preternatural agility.
As he evaded her, however, Siris entered the fray. She leaped, her great sword held high overhead, and brought it down in a devastating arc meant to cleave the blonde knight in two.
"Sword Birth!"
A forest of gleaming blades erupted from the ground before Kiba, interlocking to form a makeshift, metallic shield. Siris's zweihander smashed into it with a deafening clang of shattered steel, the force of the blow demolishing the conjured defense but leaving Kiba unscathed. He stood unharmed amidst the dissolving shards of metal.
"Sword Birth? You have a Sacred Gear?" Siris asked, landing heavily and reassuming her stance, a new wariness in her eyes.
Siris's powerful attack had served as the perfect distraction. Karlamine had used the moment to reposition herself, flanking Kiba, her dagger poised for a lethal stab in the back while he was occupied with the zweihander.
But as she thrust forward, Kiba was already gone, leaping backwards with the grace of a cat. A faint, knowing smirk touched his lips.
"Sword Birth!" he exclaimed again.
This time, it was not a shield but a cloud. A swirling, metallic mist of countless tiny blades materialized around the two Phenex knights, obscuring their vision in a glittering haze.
Before they could react, Kiba summoned a saber of orange, fiery metal and with a deft swing, he ignited the entire cloud. The chain reaction was instantaneous. The tiny blades became a superheated storm, a whirlwind of searing metal and flame that engulfed the knights.
Cries of pain and shock tore from Karlamine and Siris as they stumbled back, batting frantically at the clinging, burning daggers. They fell to the ground, their armor scorched, their bodies wracked with pain as they struggled to extinguish the magical flames and regain their footing.
Kiba stood over them, his Fire Sword still glowing, his expression now grimly serious. "Yield now," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "There is no shame in doing that."
"Never... we won't disappoint Lord Riser!" Karlamine shouted through gritted teeth, her defiance burning brighter than the embers on her armor.
Kiba gave a resigned nod. He knew their code. With a sweep of his blade, he sent a fresh wave of fire towards the wounded knights. But Karlamine, summoning a last reserve of strength and magic, threw her hands forward, creating a gust of wind that scattered the flames.
'She can use wind magic even though she's a knight?'
He dismissed the Fire Sword, the orange blade vanishing into motes of light. In its place, another sword materialized in his grasp—the Repression Calm, its blade radiating a different, more controlled energy.
"Come on, Siris, it is not over! We won't surrender!" Karlamine yelled, pushing herself upright.
"Yes! It's time for the second round!" Siris roared, hefting her great sword once more, her body aching but her spirit unbroken.
The battle was rejoined, a desperate, clashing dance of steel. Kiba parried and weaved, his movements economical and precise, weathering their coordinated assaults as he waited for the perfect opening. The sound of his blades meeting theirs was a frantic, percussive rhythm in the silent school grounds.
Suddenly, a new sound cut through the din—frantic, shouting voices. "Karlamine! Siris!"
Kiba's composure faltered for a split second, a grimace twisting his features. The Phenex pawns, Marion and Burent, had found them. Their arrival changed the calculus entirely. 'Pawns? I should still be able to fight them,' he thought, his mind racing. He had to end this, now.
"Sword Birth!" he shouted again, this time willing blades to sprout from the earth between him and the advancing pawns. The forest of steel slowed their charge, buying him precious seconds.
"I wanted to save this for your king," Kiba declared, his voice dropping to a determined whisper, "but it seems I don't have the luxury anymore. Winter's Outburst!"
The very air groaned as the temperature plummeted. A pristine, glacial blade formed in Kiba's hands, and with it came a howling snowstorm that whipped through the courtyard.
The sudden blizzard was a blinding, white chaos. Karlamine and Siris cried out, raising their arms to shield their faces from the stinging ice, but the storm was merely a veil. Kiba moved through his own creation like a phantom. He targeted Siris first, her larger sword making her movements slightly more ponderous.
Before she could comprehend his position, the freezing aura of the Winter's Outburst lashed out, encasing her arms in a shell of solid ice, immobilizing her. A single, precise strike to her torso followed, and she fell, defeated.
'Next one.'
He pivoted, repeating the tactic against Karlamine. He used the hilt of the glacial sword in a powerful, disorienting blow that sent the wind-user stumbling, off-balance. Before she could recover, the frost took her, and a final, clean strike sent her to the ground beside her comrade.
The two maids, struggling through the sudden blizzard, could only shout the names of their fallen friends as the storm abated, revealing Kiba, standing victorious amidst four retired opponents.
"Two pawns and two knights of Lord Riser have been retired," Grayfia's impartial voice declared across the dimension, formalizing his incredible achievement.
A slow, proud smile finally broke through Kiba's focused expression. He touched his earpiece. "President. The area is clear, we can move on with the plan."
"Well done, Yuuto!" Rias's voice was brimming with relief and triumph. "Koneko, Irumi, you heard Grayfia. Head towards the gymnasium. Akeno, keep surveying the area along with Kiba from the sky."
On the other side of the battlefield, huddled with her peerage in the gymnasium's shadows, Irumi pumped a fist in the air.
"Prince Charming made it! Koneko, we must not lag behind!" she whispered, her voice vibrating with renewed energy and motivation.
"Yes, Senpai," Koneko replied, her own small lips curving into a rare, faint smile before she signaled for silence, her eyes scanning the entrance of the gymnasium.
The first, crucial battle was theirs.