The enormous Rashōmon Gate hung suspended in the air, exuding a chilling, deathly aura.
Before it, Riser—who had transformed into a blazing phoenix—looked less significant than a sparrow.
As the massive doors creaked open, a suffocating wave of death energy spilled out. Riser instinctively swallowed hard, his entire body trembling uncontrollably.
Every instinct in his being screamed at him—warning him just how dangerous the presence behind that gate truly was.
And in truth… he wanted to run.
But he had already talked too big. Countless influential figures of the Underworld were watching this match. If he fled now, it would bring unbearable disgrace upon the Phoenix family.
Besides, he still clung to his supposed immortality. No matter how terrifying that gate looked… surely it couldn't actually kill him.
From beyond the gate came the clanking of heavy chains.
Then—
A flash of crimson eyes.
In that instant, Riser felt as if he had been plunged into an icy abyss.
What kind of creature dwelled in a place saturated with such dense death?
What kind of existence could possess eyes so utterly devoid of regard for life?
Riser didn't know.
And suddenly… he didn't want to know.
The moment he saw those eyes, every thought in his mind collapsed into a single instinct—
Run.
The confidence granted by his so-called immortality shattered completely. Phoenix pride? If he lost his life, what meaning would such pride even have?
Summoning all the magic power he had left, Riser forced the flames around his body to burn even more fiercely, trying to drive away the bone-deep cold creeping into him.
Spreading his flaming wings, he prepared to flee the area—
But in that very instant—
From within the half-open gate, a massive, armored oni arm shot out like lightning!
It seized Riser mid-flight.
Moments ago, his phoenix form—wrapped in blazing flames—had seemed majestic and imposing.
Now, that same "magnificent" phoenix was nothing more than a struggling chick, caught helplessly in the grip of a gigantic hand.
No matter how violently he struggled, he couldn't break free.
The Phoenix flames that had once seemed so overwhelming… did nothing at all to that grim, monstrous arm.
And as the gate rumbled once more, the watchers finally beheld the full form of its master.
It was a towering oni war-god clad in Sengoku-era armor, its limbs bound in heavy chains. With three heads and six arms, its sheer size was monstrous—and its presence, overwhelming beyond words.
Crushed in its grasp, Riser felt every bone in his body shatter.
His phoenix power restored him again and again—but unable to escape, he was forced to endure the agony of being crushed to pieces… over and over.
The oppressive oni aura gnawed at his consciousness without pause.
The endless cycle of destruction and regeneration eroded his sanity.
And the war-god looming before him filled him with a terror as deep and boundless as the abyss itself.
Between the crushing pain, the mental strain, and the sheer horror—
Every passing second felt like an eternity.
At this point, Riser almost wanted to suffer a fatal blow—just to be eliminated and escape this nightmare.
But his Phoenix ability betrayed him.
Each time he neared collapse, his body regenerated completely—preventing the game system from recognizing a "fatal injury" and removing him from the field.
This was the true meaning of a fate worse than death.
Even death… was denied to him.
As if realizing that simply crushing him wouldn't be enough to finish the insignificant prey in its grasp, the three-headed, six-armed oni slowly raised Riser toward itself.
And when Riser—already on the verge of a complete mental breakdown—saw those utterly cold eyes, and the massive mouth opening as it drew closer—
He finally snapped.
"I—I surrender! I surrender!!!"
If he had been defeated and forcibly removed, he might have retained a shred of dignity.
But surrendering like this… would turn him into a laughingstock across the entire Underworld.
Even so—
Faced with that horror, he had no other choice.
If he were devoured by that oni, he didn't even know if he would survive. But one thing was certain—such terror would leave a permanent scar on his mind, crippling him forever.
The moment Riser surrendered, both he and Ren were instantly transported back to the arena.
Everything had happened far too quickly.
From the sudden appearance of the oni war-god to the abrupt end of the battle, the audience hadn't even fully processed what they'd witnessed before it was all over.
As the host, Nadō Kamaki hurriedly announced the result:
"The match is over! The winner is—Ren Kuroda!"
Even he felt somewhat derelict in his duties. At the height of the battle's intensity, he had been so stunned that he failed to provide proper commentary—and by the time he recovered, Riser had already surrendered.
Looking at the two returning figures, Nadō couldn't help but feel a sense of irony.
Earlier, Riser and his group had made a grand entrance—elegant, confident, brimming with aristocratic flair.
Meanwhile, Ren had shown up in nothing more than a tracksuit and cheap flip-flops, looking as laid-back as if he were out for a casual stroll.
And yet, the outcome?
Of Riser's entire group, only Ravel—who hadn't participated in the battle—remained standing.
All the other girls lay unconscious.
Riser himself was drenched in cold sweat, his mind still teetering on the brink of collapse after brushing against the gates of hell.
As for Ren?
He looked exactly the same as when he entered—aside from having lost his flip-flops.
Not a scratch. Not even a wrinkle in his clothes.
And to think—earlier, many had assumed Ren was nothing more than a planted "extra," arranged to help boost the reputation of a noble like Riser.
How laughable that seemed now.
As for Riser's decision to surrender, the Phoenix family didn't criticize him too harshly.
Truth be told… in that situation, they would have made the same choice.
Even watching through projection magic, the terrifying presence of that oni war-god had been overwhelming.
Experiencing it firsthand? There was no need to imagine how much worse it must have been.
With the farcical duel now over, Ren was ready to dust himself off and head back to Kuoh Academy for class—
But before he could leave, Rias approached him, accompanied by several others.
At the front of the group were a man and a woman.
The man was a middle-aged figure with striking red hair.
The woman, a beautiful young lady with chestnut-colored hair, looked to be around the same age as Rias.
Red hair was rare even in the Underworld.
Before they even spoke, Ren had already guessed—
They were almost certainly members of Rias's family.