"DXD: Transfer Student"Chapter 236: Arena Challenge
The crowd pressed in, eager for fireworks. Zephyrdor, ever the troublemaker, was in rare form—mouth running wild as he taunted Sairaorg.
"Bael family's useless—"
He didn't get to finish. Sairaorg vanished in a blur; a split-second later, a thunderous impact shook the hall.
BOOM.
The walls rattled. Before anyone could react, Zephyrdor was already embedded in the plaster, knocked cold by a single punch. He slid down like a dead snake, limp and silent.
Draconis Yi moved without thinking, catching Asia just as the shock nearly toppled her. A gust of wind swept past—he turned to see the black-haired youth materialize at his side, eyes flickering as he watched Draconis Yi cradle Asia.
The young man's smile was gentle, but the twitch at his eye gave him away. Clearly, he'd meant to help Asia himself; Draconis Yi had simply been faster.
Draconis Yi nodded politely and let Asia go.
"You alright?"
"I'm fine!" Asia beamed up at him, then bowed respectfully to the newcomer.
As Draconis Yi and Asia turned away, a shadow passed over the young man's face.
She doesn't even remember me?
Diodora's gaze burned into Draconis Yi's back, resentment simmering.
Draconis Yi felt it instantly—a spike of killing intent. He paused, pivoted, and swept a cool gaze over the devils behind him, settling on Diodora. Their eyes met for two heartbeats, then Draconis Yi turned away, unruffled.
Rias caught the exchange. "Something wrong?"
"Nothing," Draconis Yi replied, flashing an easy smile. But inside, he was already bracing for trouble.
"You saw Sairaorg's strength for yourself?" Rias asked, voice low.
Draconis Yi's lips curled. He'd seen more than enough. Sairaorg fought with pure, unadulterated power—no magic, no tricks, just a body honed to the absolute limit.
On sheer physicality, Draconis Yi couldn't match him—yet.
"He's strong," Draconis Yi said, almost offhand.
Rias sighed, but she trusted his abilities. There was no need to worry.
They entered the main hall and took their seats—Draconis Yi and the rest behind Rias, just as every Peerage lined up behind their master. Familiar faces exchanged greetings, old rivals traded polite nods.
Suddenly, magic surged through the room. Chairs and all, everyone was teleported.
The real event had begun.
They reappeared in a grand arena, seats rising high above the central stage. At the very top, four figures radiated overwhelming power—Sirzechs, Serafall, and two more Draconis Yi didn't recognize, but their presence made it clear: all four Maou were here.
"Welcome, everyone," intoned a venerable elder, his voice echoing.
"You six are the new generation—noble lineage, unrivaled strength. Before your official debut, I hope you'll test yourselves against each other, to spur your growth."
So that was the point of all this.
With the Maou in attendance, the stakes were clear. But Draconis Yi knew their real concern was the Khaos Brigade and the Norse gods—the sparring was just a sideshow.
Sairaorg's voice rang out, bold and eager. "If we win, can we join the fight against the Khaos Brigade?"
The elder hesitated. Sirzechs smiled, taking over. "Sairaorg, your courage is admirable, but it's reckless. Sending those still growing into battle is something I've always opposed. I want you all to mature safely, with caution."
"…Understood." Sairaorg bowed his head, conceding.
"Now, begin your challenges," Sirzechs announced, his gaze sweeping the room. Draconis Yi could've sworn the Maou smiled directly at him—a chill of foreboding prickled down his spine.
Right on cue, someone stepped forward.
"Lord Lucifer, regarding the Holy Sword you received from the angels—has its new wielder arrived?"
"Of course," Sirzechs replied. "He's my sister Rias's Peerage member."
The challenger bowed respectfully, words polite but intent clear. "Honored Lord Lucifer, honored Maou, I believe such a symbol of friendship with the angels should be wielded by one of us—new generation high-class devils."
Zephyrdor, now recovered, spoke with forced civility. No matter how unruly, even he wouldn't risk disrespect in front of the Maou.
Sirzechs smiled. "So you're challenging Rias?"
"That's right! My Peerage's Knight is also a high-class devil. If a Peerage can hold such an important sword without even one high-class devil, that's hardly appropriate."
Rias's eyes flashed with fury. She stood, aura blazing. "Zephyrdor, you've got nerve targeting my servant!"
She accepted the challenge without hesitation.
"Fine, I accept!"
Behind her, Draconis Yi's mouth tightened. Typical. No peace, not for a moment. This was family payback, pure and simple.
No point complaining—it was inevitable.
Time to step up.
Draconis Yi rose, every eye in the hall turning to him. He shrugged off his jacket, loosened his tie, and in crisp shirt-sleeves, strode onto the arena.
"I am Draconis Yi, Knight to Lady Rias. The Holy Sword you're after is right here."
He planted Ascalon in the center of the stage.
Draconis Yi looked Zephyrdor in the eye—unflinching, calm. "Ready when you are."
Zephyrdor snorted. "Hermes, you're up."
A female devil appeared in a flash, sword gleaming in her hand.
"Hermes Lane, Knight to Lord Zephyrdor. High-class devil. Don't say I never gave you a chance—pick up your sword."
Her voice was cold, contemptuous.
Draconis Yi smiled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a silver toothpick. He held it between two fingers, flashing a playful grin.
"I'll use this."
…
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