"Is the warm-up over? Time to show our real skills."
Badr spoke with a smile, standing calmly without a wrinkle on his clothes.
"Indeed. You'll be showing your true abilities as well?"
"Of course."
As he spoke, Badr communicated with the [King's Sword] within him.
The amplification activated, and Badr's already terrifying energy began to surge wildly once more!
The audience was dumbfounded. Previously, Badr had kept his abilities concealed; with his [Absolute Control], no one could gauge his true strength. But now, they could see it directly.
"This..."
Everyone swallowed hard. This level of power rivaled that of a Maou!
"Is he really just a High-Class Devil? Can a High-Class Devil possess such immense power? How hasn't he exploded from it?"
People murmured in disbelief, while those with keen insight commented:
"His physique is incredibly strong, possibly even matching Sairaorg's, allowing him to withstand such power..."
"What a monstrous talent."
Sairaorg's pupils involuntarily contracted; he felt pressure like a mountain weighing down.
This guy was truly terrifying!
His body trembled slightly-a natural reaction to danger.
But Sairaorg's strong will allowed him to endure it.
"Sairaorg-sama, please use me! Wear me and use that Forbidden Move; you can surely match his power!"
"No, that's only for critical moments concerning the Underworld. I want to fight this man with my own strength!"
Badr chuckled softly:
"If you have any hidden powers, feel free to use them. After all, I'm also using my Sacred Gear's power. Besides, in a rare match like this, defeating you at your strongest would be more convincing, wouldn't it?"
"...I see. You're absolutely right."
Sairaorg seemed to be talking to himself. "I hadn't realized this might be the battle of a lifetime... Regulus-!!"
"Yes!!!"
He called out to his servant, who immediately responded. Originally his [Pawn], the servant suddenly crouched down, his body expanding rapidly, transforming into a massive golden lion!
"Hmm?"
Badr was slightly surprised. That [Pawn] possessed the aura of a Sacred Gear?
"Is that... a Sacred Gear?"
Rias was also astonished; it was her first time seeing such a unique existence.
"Regulus is special. When I found him, his former master had already perished, but as a Sacred Gear, he developed self-awareness and slaughtered all his enemies."
Sairaorg spoke softly. "I used the equivalent of seven [Pawn] pieces to reincarnate him as my servant."
"Interesting."
Badr smiled slightly. With a casual gesture, the King's Sword appeared in his hand.
Seeing this, Sairaorg's eyes shone brightly. He shouted loudly:
"My lion! King of Nemea! Known as the Lion King, answer my call and become my armor-!!"
-Balance Breaker!!
An overwhelming fighting spirit erupted. His aura expanded immensely, and a dazzling light blinded everyone, causing them to cover their eyes instinctively.
After several seconds, the light subsided. Standing before them was a figure clad entirely in golden armor...
...
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Chapter 182: Against Sairaorg Balance Breaker!
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As the light subsided, Sairaorg Bael emerged, clad in the golden armor of his Balance Breaker.
The armor, gleaming brightly, was shaped like a majestic lion, its head forming the breastplate, and a flowing mane extending from the helmet.
The eyes of the lion's face on the armor seemed to glow with an almost lifelike intensity. Sairaorg, now a true Lion King, radiated an aura of immense power.
"Behold, the Balance Breaker of Regulus Nemea-Regulus Rey Leather Rex!" Sairaorg declared, his voice ringing with excitement. "You're a formidable opponent, Badr. I'll have to get serious."
His fighting spirit burned brightly. "Come at me with everything you've got!"
"Gladly," Badr replied, his demonic power surging like a tidal wave. He unleashed a torrent of energy, channeling it through [King Sword] in a devastating attack.
Like a meteor striking the earth, the energy blade collided with Sairaorg, creating a flash of blinding light.
The arena floor beneath them shattered from the force of the blow. Sairaorg, protected by the armor of his Sacred Gear, withstood the full brunt of Badr's attack.
Badr pressed his assault, his sword flashing with blinding speed. Sairaorg, forced onto the defensive, met each strike with his fists, the force of their blows creating shockwaves that rippled through the arena.
A fierce wind whipped around them, a vortex generated by their rapid movements. Rias and the others watched from a safe distance, wry smiles on their faces.
They knew Badr and Sairaorg were completely engrossed in their battle, reveling in the thrill of combat.
Badr, despite holding back, still held a clear advantage, his movements fluid and effortless as he channeled his demonic power into simple, yet devastatingly effective strikes.
This was a rare opportunity-a battle without underhanded tactics or the threat of death.
Badr used the opportunity to identify any weaknesses or flaws in his fighting style, something that could only be discovered in the heat of combat.
Sairaorg felt the pressure mounting. Badr's attacks were becoming increasingly flawless, the occasional openings he'd glimpsed earlier now completely gone.
Each strike felt like an inescapable blow, aimed with pinpoint accuracy, leaving Sairaorg no option but to defend.
"Something's different about him!" Regulus, the spirit within Sairaorg's Sacred Gear, warned.
Even Regulus sensed the shift in Badr's power. His attacks were growing stronger, his movements sharper, his defenses impenetrable.
Sairaorg tried to create distance, but Badr followed relentlessly, his sword a constant threat. He tried to block and counter, but Badr's strikes landed with jarring force, leaving him reeling, unable to react before the next blow landed.
This relentless assault was taking its toll.
Badr, lost in the rhythm of combat, his attacks flowed seamlessly, each strike aimed with preternatural precision, targeting Sairaorg's weak points, leaving him no chance to escape, only to endure.
Sairaorg felt like nothing more than a test subject for Badr's blade.
He could only block and parry, desperately trying to keep up with the relentless barrage of attacks, each one stronger than the last.
Badr felt a strange sensation, a sense of connection to the space around him. His [Absolute Control] had extended beyond his body, allowing him to perceive the flow of energy within the entire arena.
Next, the side...
Following this strange intuition, Badr targeted Sairaorg's side, sensing a weakness in his defense.
Thud!
Sairaorg couldn't react in time. The blow landed, and the golden armor resonated with a loud clang. The force of the impact sent a shockwave through his body, his face flushing crimson.
With this newfound awareness, Badr perceived more and more vulnerabilities in Sairaorg's defenses.
Legs... left elbow... right shoulder...
It was as if he controlled the very fabric of the arena, sensing even the slightest shift in the air currents. [Absolute Control] had become a domain, and within it, Badr's attacks were inescapable, each one striking with pinpoint accuracy at Sairaorg's most vulnerable points.
Perhaps this truly was a domain.
Within this sphere of awareness, Badr was the master, sensing every subtle change, every flicker of movement.
The audience watched in stunned silence as Badr dominated the fight, his relentless attacks forcing Sairaorg into a defensive posture.
Finally, Sairaorg's defenses crumbled, a seemingly effortless strike from Badr sending him reeling, blood spraying from his mouth.
Badr moved with an almost ethereal grace, his sword strokes fluid and precise, each one carrying devastating power. The shockwaves from his attacks cracked the very ground beneath their feet.
Tension filled the arena.
"Is Sairaorg going to be beaten to death?" someone whispered.
Thanks to the armor, Badr hadn't caused any external injuries, but the concussive force of each blow was taking its toll.
"...He's become a punching bag. This is brutal," another spectator murmured, a sense of helplessness washing over them as they watched Badr's relentless assault.
How could someone so young be so powerful?
"Incredible talent. To grasp a new technique mid-battle," Ajuka Beelzebub, one of the Four Great Satans, remarked, a hint of awe in his voice.
He recognized the unusual nature of Badr's power. Against an opponent of equal strength, this new technique would guarantee victory.
Boom!!
A thunderous crash echoed through the arena as Badr's final strike sent Sairaorg flying, crashing heavily to the ground.
Sairaorg's body trembled.
He was... exhausted.
His defenses, so formidable moments ago, had crumbled beneath Badr's relentless assault.
What's happening? My legs... why are they shaking?
It's not over... I'm still fighting...
Sairaorg's mind screamed in defiance. He refused to accept defeat.
With a surge of willpower, he pushed himself to his feet.
I can still fight... I can still win...
Fueled by this unwavering belief, Sairaorg's fighting spirit flared, his aura warping the space around him.
Badr smiled, his eyes filled with admiration.
Sairaorg's determination was truly impressive.
But... Badr was still stronger.
In truth, the difference in their power was vast. Badr had been holding back, toying with him, especially after he'd grasped this new application of [Absolute Control]...
No one would have guessed that a single battle would lead to such a profound realization...
Badr's talent, even more so than his raw power, was what truly set him apart.
...
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Chapter 183: A Date with Akeno
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Sairaorg's fighting spirit was undeniable, but Badr was simply on Another Level.
His Demonic Power far surpassed Sairaorg's; the outcome of the match had been clear from the start. However, Badr respected Sairaorg as an opponent and felt he deserved a proper fight, a chance to showcase his abilities.
He hadn't held back entirely but had maintained just enough control to avoid a complete curbstomp. Unleashing his full power wasn't an option; the consequences could be... messy.
Seeing Sairaorg rise to his feet again, Badr smiled and renewed his assault.
This was a competition. As long as his opponent refused to yield, the fight would continue until one of them fell.
Sairaorg roared, his determination unwavering. Despite the mounting injuries, he still searched for an opening, a chance to strike back.
But Badr offered no such opportunity. His newfound ability was simply too unfair. He could perceive Sairaorg's weaknesses with perfect clarity. How could anyone fight against that?
It was like landing a critical hit with every single attack.
Finally, as Sairaorg struggled to stand yet again, Badr halted his advance, his sword stopping inches from Sairaorg's chest.
Regulus, the spirit within the Lion King's Battle Axe, spoke, its voice filled with sorrow. "Enough, My master, Sairaorg, has lost consciousness."
Badr looked at Sairaorg, who had collapsed where he stood, and nodded slowly.
"Concede and withdraw. Get him some medical attention," he said quietly. "I apologize. He's a strong opponent, but I couldn't afford to hold back."
He wasn't lying. While he had been suppressing Sairaorg, any lapse in concentration would have given Sairaorg the opening he needed to turn the tables.
Regulus, shedding a tear, said, "Even so, my master enjoyed this fight. He found joy in facing you."
"As did I."
Badr smiled and nodded, watching as Sairaorg was teleported from the arena.
The announcer's voice echoed through the stadium, declaring the match over due to Sairaorg's withdrawal.
Turning to Rias, Badr gave her a warm smile.
"I won the championship for you."
Rias, beaming with joy, ran towards him and jumped into his arms, the victory a shared triumph.
"This is your reward," she whispered, holding him tight.
Badr returned her embrace, savoring the moment.
After a few seconds, they too were teleported from the arena. Akeno and the others rushed to greet them.
"We won!" Rias announced, her voice filled with excitement.
"Of course, we did. I never doubted it for a second," Akeno replied, her usual cheerful demeanor returning. Then, her expression turned serious. "Though, I'm still a bit frustrated. I could have taken out their Queen, but I failed."
"You did well, considering your numbers," Badr said, shaking his head gently. He knew his own presence had skewed the balance of the match, occupying multiple Pawn slots. Thankfully, his ability to create clones had helped compensate for their smaller team size.
Sirzechs Lucifer approached them, a warm smile on his face.
"May I have a moment? Badr, there's something I need to discuss with you."
Rias and her peerage bowed respectfully. "Maou Lucifer."
"Please, go ahead," Badr replied, returning Sirzechs's smile.
"It's about your Promotion Exams."
Akeno and the others exchanged excited glances.
Badr chuckled. "Finally. I was starting to think I'd be stuck as a Low-Class Devil forever."
"Well, considering you repelled a Fallen Angel Cadre and thwarted a Khaos Brigade attack, you've all more than earned your promotions to High-Class Devil," Sirzechs said with a wry smile. "But who could have predicted you'd rise so quickly? The scheduled exam period is still months away."
Even this Middle-Class Devil promotion exam had been expedited by Sirzechs, solely for Badr's benefit. The High-Class Devil promotion exam was still a long way off...
"I don't mind waiting. Middle-Class is fine for now," Badr said with a shrug. While becoming a High-Class Devil would allow him to form his own peerage, it wasn't a pressing concern.
