Ira Wrath

Daseos spent the next day, Friday, cooped up at home getting ready for his big fight as [5] on Saturday. 

He had even skipped school entirely, he was all too clear what was riding on his victory.

This was his first step to rising in the ranks of Villainy, an integral part in his journey to seek out his family.

Friday passed with no hitches, except the fact that the L.U.S.T Inn echoed sporadically with Daseos's groans and moans — which were dismissed as a horny boy at the peak of his puberty.

==========

[ Saturday Afternoon — Day of Daseos's Underground Fight Club (UFC) Event ]

The Darkspire UFC stadium was a cavernous place, dimly lit with spectral lights that danced across the walls. 

There was something both foreboding and thrilling about the atmosphere, like standing on the edge of a dark abyss. 

The air smelled of sweat, iron, and the unique tang of magical energy. 

It was early afternoon, and aside from staff members and fighters who frequented the underground training rooms, the place was nearly deserted.

In a corner of the lobby, a masked teen with grey hair sat quietly on a leather couch. 

Daseos, in disguise and shrouded by a black hood and a dark cloak, surveyed his surroundings. 

He was a ball of coiled energy, a clenched fist waiting to strike.

Suddenly, the silence was cut by the sound of hurried footsteps. 

Alucard, dressed as impeccably as ever, seemed to materialize from the hallway shadows.

"Young—*Ahem* I mean [5], Glad to have you," 

Alucard panted, a nervous twinkle in his eyes. 

'Our young mistress Ira is here, from the notorious Wrath Clan, to oversee the signing of your contract. The Wraths don't just own the UFC, they practically rule half of Antagonia's underground. Screw this up, and we're both in hot water.

Daseos's eyes widened for just a moment before he caught himself. 

He nodded calmly and got up, following Alucard as they wove through a maze of hallways. 

The walls seemed to close in, making the world outside feel a million miles away. 

At the end of the corridor, they reached a lavish private elevator framed in dark iron and embellished glass. It seemed out of place, like a royal chamber in a dungeon.

As the elevator doors slid closed, Alucard leaned in and whispered, 

"She's a hot-tempered one, that Ira. Princess of the Wrath Clan and all," 

Alucard leaned in, his eyes darting from side to side before settling on Daseos. 

His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper,

"Getting in her good books could open doors. Many, many doors."

His eyes darted around suspiciously before leaning closer, lowering his voice even further. 

"If you can get in her pants, all the better! Just… be careful…"

Daseos rolled his eyes, a quick flicker of annoyance veiled by his black mask. 

'This unscrupulous bastard is as cunning as always…' he thought.

*DING~!*

The elevator doors slid open to reveal an office that screamed opulence. 

Every piece of furniture was a work of art, from the mahogany desk to the plush velvet chairs. 

But what caught Daseos's eye was the girl seated behind the desk.

In a black latex bodysuit and with short red hair accented by purple braided tails, she seemed the epitome of a fiery personality. 

She had one leg thrown casually over the desk and was deep in a phone conversation.

"Dad! Will you stop worrying for Devil's sake! I've just landed in Darkspire and am in the UFC office now, nothing will go wrong!"

"..."

Alucard stepped out of the elevator and immediately dipped into a bow. 

The girl—presumably Ira—stood up and approached, gesturing with an index finger as if to say, "Hang on a minute."

"Daaaaad~ I'm just here to oversee a fight!"

"..."

Her voice was playful but laced with irritation. 

She continued her conversation, oblivious to Daseos.

"I know we have a home cinema! But didn't mom say I'm already 16 and should start getting familiar with the family business…"

Just as she was speaking, Ira's leg shot up in a blur, aimed straight at Daseos's head. His senses spiked. 

With lightning speed, he raised his left arm to block, flexing every muscle on the outer side to reinforce his defense.

*BAAAAPPPP!!*

The impact rattled through him, pushing him half a step sideways. 

His eyes widened in shock.

'She's my age and probably already a T1 Villain!'

Still on the phone, Ira looked unbothered. 

"Dad, don't worry. I'm just having a light spar…"

With her shin still resting against Daseos's block, Ira shot him a saucy wink. 

She spun around like a top, her leg pulling back for what looked like a devastating spinning back kick.

This time, though, Daseos was prepared. 

The second her foot came at him, he dropped his block, grabbed her ankle, and threw his weight back. 

Ira was yanked off her feet, pulled into a mid-air split she never saw coming.

"Ahhh~!" 

She yelped, her surprise evident.

Her phone slipped from her grasp, landing with a thud on the plush carpet.

"Let go of me!" 

She said, her voice a mix of annoyance and awe.

Daseos obliged, releasing her ankle. 

She hit the ground in a split but then sprang up with feline agility, landing gracefully on her feet. 

She grabbed her phone from the floor.

"DAD!!! I'm okay! I just dropped my phone by accident!"

Her voice was a mix of exasperation and affection.

"..."

"I'm only 16! Why're you talking about marriage?!"

"..."

"Hmph! I just won't marry then! I'll stay as daddy's little princess!"

"..."

"Ugrhhh~ Fine, anyway I've got to go, Dad! Need to get tonight's event fighter signed!"

As she ended the call and stowed away her phone as she walked toward the grand office table and settled into her seat.

Daseos couldn't help but think how capricious yet compelling this Wrath Clan heiress was. 

She was volatile like a flame but equally dazzling.

'She may be bratty, but she's skilled,' he thought.

"Impressive counter," 

She finally said, her eyes locking onto his with interest that wasn't there before.

"Take a seat?"

She gestured to the chair across her desk.

As Daseos slid into the seat, a contract was slid toward him across the table. 

"This isn't just paper and ink; it's a binding magical contract. Break it, and nothing will save you," 

Ira said, her eyes gleaming with a warning.

He bent over the paper, eyes scanning.

One thing Daseos had learnt the hard way, from Alucard no less, was to ALWAYS read the fine print!

"What's with the mask?" 

Ira leaned in, her voice tinged with curiosity. 

"You're undefeated in the Pre-Villain League, right? What's there to hide? Are you just really ugly or something?"