A Strange Crossover

'System, status check surrounding.' I commanded, waited for a response.

[7 entities detected.]

Name: Roygun Belphegor

Race: Devil

Name: Grayfia Lucifuge

Rac: Devil

Name: Sirzechs Lucifer

Race: Devil

Name: Serafall Leviathan

Race: Devil

Name: Penemue

Race: Fallen angel

Name: Azazel

Race: Fallen angel

Name: Tiamat

Race: Dragon

'What the hell are these stats!!' Arata thought, as he looked into the system window. In comparison his stats were nothing to their. 'I need to approach with high ground and a strong image.'

The thin line between bravery and suicidal move.

"My patience is running out! You are wasting my time or you want me to call out your names. Devil, Fallen angel and dragon woman." Arata said, getting up and stare in their directions.

A swirl of demonic power shimmered in the air as Roygun Belphegor was the first to step forward. Her violet eyes scanned the boy carefully, her tone laced with restrained curiosity.

"You're certainly not ordinary. That much is clear. Even for a child… your presence distorts the air itself. What are you, exactly?" Roygun inquired, her tone carries curiosity.

As for her appearance she's a beautiful young woman appearing in her twenties with long, wavy, cherry blossom hair and two horns protruding from her head.

Arata didn't answer immediately. His eyes remained cold, observing each figure as they emerged from the shadows—Sirzechs, Serafall, and Grayfia among them. The three Devils stood tall, elegant and powerful, their presence enough to make seasoned warriors falter. But Arata didn't flinch.

"You show up uninvited. Surround me like predators. And then ask what I am?" Arata, clear things from his perspective asserting they have bad intentions for him.

He tilted his head slightly as they were not responding. "Stop wasting my time and be direct. I have no time for pedo of any race?" Judging them as he deems right.

"Feisty! I like him." Serafall chuckled lightly just like others observing Arata, by his small hints like tone, body language and words.

Serafall is a beautiful girl, looking in her late teens with black hair tied into twin tails and blue eyes. She also has a developed body.

Her tone was playful, but her eyes were sharp, analyzing. "No need for threats, cutie. We didn't come to fight. We came to… talk." She explains.

"As for why we are here, because the land belongs to the Gremory household, you are the trespasser here." WOmen in maid clothes interrupted.

Grayfia is a beautiful young woman with a voluptuous body, appearing to be in her early twenties with back-length silver hair that features a long braid on each side with small blue bows at the ends, while the rest is let down which ends in twin braids and silver eyes.

"Is that so, Mr. Sirzechs?" I stared at him calmly, reducing the heat and intensity in my words and action. "Yes, although this part may not, but the majority of it does." The red head truthfully said and got a surprised stare from his silver head maid.

"You're a rare existence, Arata." The fallen angel finally spoke

his voice was calm, yet carried the weight of judgment. "Your energy is unlike anything we've seen—Ki, Hamon, and Curse Energy. That's unheard of in our realms."

Azazel is a tall man appearing to be in his twenties with an average build, black hair, golden bangs, and black goatee.

"We're not here to harm you. We'd like to understand you—and offer you something in return." Sirzechs finally stepped forward, his voice regal but kind.

Arata raised an eyebrow. Hearing his words and breaking it down what it could mean, he responded in kind. "Offer me what? Exactly? Why should I even trust you? I don't even know any of you?"

A cold smile touched his lips. "I don't need your titles or contracts. I'm not some stray looking for a leash." As he makes himself clear, Azazel chuckles while others are composed.

"Not a leash. A stage. I want you in my peerage." Roygun spoke gently, with a soft smile on her face.

"Sirzechs, I think we should introduce ourselves first, It's quite clear that this brat doesn't know anything about us at all." The fallen angel suggested as he came forward with confidence.

The clearing held a stillness now—like a held breath.

Sirzechs Lucifer gave a soft chuckle, brushing back his crimson hair with practiced grace.

"Then allow me to begin. I am Sirzechs Lucifer, one of the Four Great Satans of the Underworld and the head of the Gremory Clan. This land—like I said—belongs to my family. But you're not being accused, Arata. We're just… intrigued." Sirzechs points out facts and tries to dismiss any speculation of Arata about them having bad intentions for him.

His voice carried both nobility and a strange warmth, but Arata could see through it. Politeness layered over power. Authority wrapped in charm.

Next to speak was the woman in the maid uniform, her eyes focused, calculating.

"Grayfia Lucifuge. I serve as Sirzechs-sama's personal aide and also hold the title of the 'Strongest Queen' among all peerages." She bowed slightly, formally, but her gaze never left

Arata's—measuring them down to their soul. Arata nodded faintly, saying nothing yet. He was listening—studying.

A playful hand shot up.

"Serafall Leviathan! Magical Girl Supreme~!" She posed dramatically, winking with her tongue out before adding in a lower tone, "Also one of the Four Great Satans. I specialize in Ice Magic, diplomatic affairs, and idol-level charisma. Don't be shy around me, okay?"

Arata just stared. "...Right."

Laughter bubbled out of Azazel, who stepped forward next.

"Name's Azazel, Governor-General of the Fallen Angels—well, former Governor-General now. I'm a researcher these days. Collector/ adopter of oddities. You? You're one hell of an oddity." His golden eyes gleamed with curiosity rather than hostility.

Penemue followed beside him, offering a polite smile. "Penemue. Once a high-ranking angel, now a loyal member of Grigori. I focus on intelligence, healing, and cleaning up Azazel's messes."

"Oi," Azazel muttered. Penemue only smiled wider.

Finally, the air rumbled as a deep voice echoed through the forest. From behind the trees stepped a tall, regal figure cloaked in scaled armor that shimmered between blue and silver. Her long indigo hair flowed like river currents, and her golden eyes bore into Arata with the weight of ages.

"My name is Tiamat. Dragon King. The most dangerous one here by far, and the last of my kind. Instead of boasting, she just said it, and the trees surrounding her bowed slightly beneath the weight of her presence.

Arata's eyes squinted a little. Dragon. Devil. Angel in the fall. Satan.

Everyone is gathered here, observing him. In a clearing, one child.

However...

"I have yet to find a reason to be concerned." Those words weighed more heavily than magic. Roygun's smile widened, Azazel grinned, and Serafall blinked. Now, as though all the formalities had made room for her, she stepped forward slowly.

I am Roygun Belphegor, a 72-pillar noble and a High-Class Devil. Not like them. "I'm not here as a King or General," she said, gesturing to the others. I arrived because I wanted to talk to them because I was bored at home, and we noticed you fighting here.

Arata looked at her with an unreadable expression.

"I want you as a companion, not as a tool or a prize. I've never seen power like yours. However, strength alone is insufficient. You need room, time, and a motivation to develop. That's my contribution. or defense?"

Arata folded his arms, shifted his weight, and finally let out a small sigh to break the silence.

"Everything you say is fascinating." His head cocked slightly. "Now, if you believe that I am incapable of caring for myself, raise your hand. Let's place a favor wager. I owe everyone here one if you win, and vice versa if you lose.

A pause occurred. The wind even became motionless. They flinch momentarily as they hear Arata's ridiculous challenge. It was astounding how confident and self-assured Arata was.

Few human or superhuman beings could stand their ground like that, even after learning their title.

"Hey... An acute tongue for a child. I enjoy it. She's giving you structure, though. A safe haven for growth without predators. You should be more succinct when it comes to betting. With a playful tone, Azazel pulled a clock out of his pocket.

and defense. People like you are not ignored for very long. Others—darker ones—will take you if the Devils don't. When Tiamat finally spoke, her strange drago aura was evident in her low, thundering voice.

Something sparked in Arata's eyes, but his face remained unchanged. A silent computation.

"To begin with, I will surpass every single powerhouse that is currently present here in 15 years."

His words rippled across everyone's faces, falling like stones into quiet water. A few eyebrows raised. Grayfia's typically enigmatic face twitched slightly. However, none of them chuckled.

Not one.

His assurance was belief etched in steel, not merely conceit.

Serafall gave one blink, then whistled softly.

"Delusional and feisty." With her arms folded beneath her chest, she remarked playfully, "You're kind of adorable." However, her tone lacked sting. There was a hint of caution in her gaze now, if anything.

Azazel shut his pocket watch with a click.

"What, fifteen years?"

"Kid, that's a really bad timer to set on yourself," he added. "You know that some of us have lived for centuries, don't you?"

Arata cocked his head, expressionless.

"Then you failed despite having millennia to become gods. I just require fifteen."

At that, even Sirzechs arched an eyebrow.

Roygun's eyes gleamed with something unsaid, and her lips curled upward.

"Arata, confidence by itself does not create kingdoms. However, it's a good beginning.

With enough weight on her feet to move the dirt underfoot, Tiamat stepped forward. Her ancient aura, which coiled around her like smoke, was unrestrained.

With a voice like rolling thunder, she questioned, "And what if we test that ambition?"

"This very moment. Now. One you, one of us." Unfazed, Arata turned to face her. A hint of anticipation, not fear, intensified his eyes.

"Select whoever you like."

He gently drummed two fingers on his chest. "Don't hold back, please. It would be awful for me to win without purpose."

With a serene, regal attitude, Sirzechs gently lifted a hand to diffuse the growing tension.

He declared, "Now is not the time for a fight."

"Our purpose was not to extinguish a spark before it ignited." He turned to face Arata.

"We came to relax and talk but it's just a coincidence that we found him. He is young and hot blood and acts like a mature dragon King Tiamat."

The next to speak was Grayfia, who was still standing next to him. Her voice was calm but firmer than previously.

"You're careless. Risky. But you're real," she said, narrowing her silver gaze. And that is more important than you may imagine.

Arata didn't respond, but there was a change behind his eyes, maybe an acknowledgment. He refused to give up. He didn't make any more challenges. He took it in.

Now, Roygun moved forward cautiously and slowly, reducing the distance between them until she was a few feet away.

"I refuse to press. No, not just now," she responded softly. "But I'll be waiting when the time comes if you ever want more than just defiance and instinct."

She extended her hand.

Not as a deal. Not as a must.

Just a decision.

After giving it a quick glance, Arata looked aside with reluctance rather than rejection.

"We'll see." He said quietly. Sincerely, And somehow that was sufficient.

Soon Arata left them, he did receive their contact and flyer just in case he wanted to contact them or ask for favour. Arata is a rare breed and destined to grow stronger. So if he owes a debt of favour to them, in future he may help them.

Arata took the opportunity but was conflied as they had accepted the challenge but they were indeed on another level when it came to stats. Arata now needs to grow stronger than these thousand year old beings in 15 years.