Riser Phenex felt utterly disheartened after being rejected twice by the prestigious Vienna art school.
Each time he presented his paintings, he had walked in with confidence, his head held high, assured of his talent.
But now?
Now, he was drowning in doubt.
The critiques cut deep: outdated, lacking soul, and inflexible. Those were the words they used to describe his art.
Yet, paradoxically, most of his clients adored his work.
They praised his craftsmanship, his attention to detail, and many even tipped generously as a show of appreciation.
So why, in the eyes of so-called "professionals," was his art deemed inferior?
Was their judgment truly so different? Or was he simply blind to his own flaws?
To add insult to injury, they had even suggested that he might be better suited for architecture, as though painting was some unattainable dream for someone like him.
Should he give up? Should he abandon his aspirations of becoming a painter, admit he lacked the innate talent for it, and return home a failure?
No.
He clenched his fists.
No matter what, he was unwilling to give up.
His dream had always been to become the greatest artist, a name immortalized in history.
Yet, twice now, his dream had been dismissed and rejected.
"Your painting feels hollow now, Mister Adolf," Le Fay said gently, her tone laced with concern. "It lacks the enthusiasm and love you once showed. Are you... burned out, perhaps?"
"I don't know," Riser admitted, shrugging listlessly.
His voice carried a weight of defeat that surprised even him. "If you want a refund, I'll return every coin you've paid, Miss Le Fay."
"You don't have to," she said with a reassuring smile. "I still love your work, Mister Adolf. I truly do. May you rediscover your passion in the future."
"Thank you, Miss Le Fay," he replied, his voice softening with gratitude.
There was an aching sincerity in his tone, one that was rare for him. "We may not meet again. I've decided to return home. My life so far has been a series of failures, and now it's time to go back to where I belong—the Underworld. I'm sorry for hiding it from you, but yes, I'm a devil."
"I suspected as much from the beginning, Mister Adolf," Le Fay said with a chuckle, her amusement lightening the heavy atmosphere. "But I've been hiding something from you as well. I am Le Fay Pendragon, a descendant of Morgan le Fay and a member of the Chaos Brigade. If you're interested, we could use someone like you in our ranks. There are plenty of pure-blood noble devils who would certainly welcome you."
The mention of the Chaos Brigade made Riser raise an eyebrow.
In his previous timeline, hadn't they been labeled as terrorists?
But despite his suspicions, he didn't outright reject her offer.
"Tell me where I can meet one of your leaders in the Underworld," he said, his voice steady.
Le Fay glanced around cautiously, her eyes scanning for eavesdroppers.
Then, she leaned in close, her warm breath brushing against his ear as she whispered the name and location of a contact.
"Thank you for the information, Le Fay. I'll meet them when the time is right—hopefully, I'll see you again as well," Riser said, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Le Fay mirrored his smile, but hers was laced with mischief.
Without warning, she leaned in even closer, pressing her lips softly against his in a chaste but lingering kiss.
"Farewell, my beloved painter," she murmured, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson.
"Farewell, Le Fay," Riser replied, his tone carrying a strange mix of fondness and resolve.
With that, he allowed his body to dissolve into flames, teleporting back to the Underworld in a burst of Phenex fire.
As he reappeared in his homeland, the weight of his curiosity grew.
What had become of the world during his absence?
Would it be the same as he remembered, or had everything changed beyond recognition?
One thing was certain: his journey was far from over.
When he returned to the Underworld, Riser was struck by devastating news: Sona Sitri had been murdered in cold blood, along with all of her peerage members and the students of Kuoh Academy.
The heinous act was carried out by Kokabiel and his fallen angels.
Riser felt his heart nearly stop at the news.
He grabbed a passerby.
"What about Rias Gremory? Was she one of them?" he demanded, his voice sharp.
The devil, caught off guard, blinked in confusion.
"What are you talking about, my lord? Lady Rias never left the Underworld in the first place," he said, his expression one of disbelief.
She never left? Shouldn't she have been running Kuoh with Sona?
"Then what happened afterward?" Riser pressed, his eyes narrowing menacingly, his tone now demanding and full of authority.
The devil sighed, clearly frustrated with the lack of common sense he believed Riser displayed.
"The war, my lord. Lady Rias was outraged by the death of her friend. Lady Leviathan wanted nothing more than to bathe in the blood of those crows' skulls. Lord Sirzechs couldn't stop them—everyone was calling for war!" He panted, barely able to catch his breath.
"The Church tried to intervene, but Lady Leviathan killed their representatives before they could even speak. Now, everyone is bound to join the war, to fight against the crows—and perhaps the angels as well."
"Thanks for the information. Here's your payment." Riser handed over a generous sum of coins, tucking his wallet back into his pocket before walking away.
The devil murmured his gratitude. "Thank you, my lord."
The scene fell silent as Riser made his way to a quiet corner of a bar, sitting alone with a glass of wine in hand.
His mind raced with thoughts of what he had just learned.
If he hadn't restarted the timeline, would Rias have also died with Sona in the Kokabiel invasion?
Or would she have found a way to save Sona and everyone else?
Riser wasn't sure whether he was a savior or a destroyer in this scenario.
But one thing was certain: he had found a new purpose.
The crows. The war. The future of the devils.
He wanted to change it all with his own hands.
He wanted the greatest stage in life. He had found his purpose: to become the greatest artist of all, painting the world according to his own vision.
And now, he found the canvas to paint.
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Author Note:
Yeah, sorry for the late update. I've been busy lately. Even though I had time to post this story, I didn't have time to oversee it properly. You see, this fic is highly controversial because of one particular figure I used as inspiration for this fanfic or parody.
Some people think this isn't a serious story. No, this is a serious story. You can already tell from this chapter that things will take a dark turn, just as I promised from the very beginning, and as indicated in the tags. I won't be doing this half-baked.
You may see the Adolf Riser part as a joke or comedy, but keep in mind that World War I and World War II didn't exist in this universe. If they did, Kokabiel wouldn't be complaining about how the world has enjoyed peace for too long and is in desperate need of war. Even if those wars had existed, it would have been a plot hole in the original High School DxD story. Whatever the case, in this version, they never happened.
So, Riser Phenex naming himself Adolf isn't about copying that infamous German mustache guy. He never even existed in this world. The reason Riser took the name is that Adolf was considered a noble-sounding name in Austria before its historical associations. Without the influence of the German mustache man, it makes perfect sense for someone of noble lineage like Riser to adopt it.
You can check Google yourself—before World War II, Adolf was actually a very popular name. And since High School DxD has no World Wars in its lore, the name remained common. That's why Riser took it—because it sounds cool and logically fits within the setting.
This story is basically Mein Kampf: DxD Edition.
The Old Satan Faction in this story will mirror the Nazis from our world. The MC will initially join the Old Satan Faction, but in the future, he will outgrow them, take full control, and become their sole leader. Eventually, he will dismantle the Four Great Satans system and take complete control over the Underworld by building his own cult-like following.
Right now, he may seem weak and unable to take over anything, but after his meeting with Rizevim Lucifer, he will gain overwhelming power and influence in no time.
The next chapter will feature a war between devils and crows, and the MC will be joining the fight—just like how the German mustache man joined World War I.
This story has nothing to do with the real world and will not mention any real historical figures or real-world people. It is strictly set in High School DxD.
The reason I wanted to write this scenario is that I found it entirely possible to create a Mein Kampf-inspired fanfic within the DxD setting—and as you can see, it works.
The MC's frustration, sense of injustice, parasitic dependence on his noble family, and lack of purpose all parallel the early life of that historical figure. It's similar, yet different at the same time. But regardless, it works, doesn't it?
Don't forget to drop power stones, reviews, and comments to keep me motivated and help me write faster.