Greetings!

Gonna be quick with this AN.

This is a challenge fic, first and foremost. Full details of the challenge are at the bottom.

Disclaimer: I do not own High School DxD, nor do I own Type Moon or any of its intellectual properties.

Published: September 19, 2020

Updated: April 1, 2022

…

Chapter 1 – Debut

Kuoh Academy; located in the heart of the small, aptly named Kuoh Town, the formerly female exclusive private academy boasted some of the most prodigious youth in central Japan. It was late April, and cherry blossoms had been in full bloom for several days now, painting the landscape in pink and white, so there were plenty of beautiful sights to behold as one traveled through the town.

The academic year had been underway for nearly a month, students having gotten used to their academic routines, rejoining their groups of friends or bringing in new friends from other grades.

With one notable exception heading for the Academy entrance.

Connor Lochlainn was a unique sight when compared to his surrounding peers. At 18 years old and standing at 180 cm, his hazel eyes, short dark brown hair with red roots, and lanky build made him stick out from the crowd. While he wore the standard Kuoh Academy male's blazer and pants, he opted for a forest green undershirt and a silver pendant around his neck gifted to him by his late grandfather. True, he had gotten some admiring or even hungry looks, but quite a few more saw him as a rebel or a troublemaker who rejected the clean shaven uniformity of Japanese customs.

His personality had not really helped his perceived image, either. While normally very laid-back in his studies and mild in his approach to others, he was very protective of his personal possessions. A third-year boy had made to grab his pendant within his first week as part of an innocent prank, and he had almost punched the guy in response. He had apologized for the knee-jerk reaction, but a lot of people still gave him a wide berth after that incident. Looking back, it was a wonder that he wasn't expelled, or at the very least reported, but the continued presence of the aptly-named Perverted Trio showed that one could do worse and remain free to roam. The isolation wasn't something he had hoped for when he came here, but he didn't necessarily hate it either; he was used to being by himself. He could do without all the nervous glances, though.

A year ago, he had joined the cultural exchange program at his school in the US, having set his sights on either Germany or Japan. When asked why those particular countries, he had cited a long running interest in their respective histories. For the longest time, there were no takers on his application. He didn't really mind, since it gave him more time to study and prepare.

Fast forward nine months, however, and he received a letter of recommendation for Kuoh Academy in central Japan. The letter was written by a Dr. Zachariah Gregory, something he thought was unusual given that Gregory was nowhere near a Japanese name. For a foreigner to have such a presence in Japan, the man had to have friends in high places. After a bit of research, he found that Gregory was a business owner in Kuoh and a major benefactor for the academy, so his credentials seemed to check out. Luckily for Connor, by that time he had learned enough of the native language that he wouldn't seem like a hopeless tourist every minute of every day.

At first, Connor had trouble connecting with people thanks to his appearance and the machinations of the grapevine. That changed, however, when he started making himself the bane of the Perverted Trio's existence for their… extracurricular activities. After sending them off with a warning the first time, he collaborated with the Tennis Club to make a game out of pelting the voyeurs with tennis balls if they were ever caught in the act of peeping. The game quickly took off and even led to the creation of a new competitive ranking board within the Tennis Club. This had earned him a fair amount of respect among the female members of the school, a budding friendship with the Tennis Club captain, Kiyome Abe, and, through word of mouth, a new reputation as something of a knight, ready to defend the dignity of his female classmates.

Not that it mattered what they called him; none of it was really correct anyway. He did it for his own amusement more than anything, but it surprised him how far the Tennis Club ran with it.

Out of curiosity, Connor had wandered into the Kendo Club dojo a week after he had transferred. His new title had reached the whole school by this point, and the two co-captains, Mayu Katase and Setsuko Murayama, invited him for afternoon practice. Before he realized it, he had spent over three hours with the group, observing their routines and socializing with them in between segments. The club members were pleasantly surprised that he made for good company, and Katase asked if he would be interested in fully joining the club. To their disappointment, he declined, stating that he wanted to keep his options open for the time being, but would come by and visit every now and then.

Connor could only shake his head as his thoughts carried him to and fro. He didn't believe it was possible for someone's public perception at a new school in a new country to make such a turn in the span that his did. Sadly, reveling in fond memories would have to wait for another time. School was starting for the day, and he was rather excited for it.

A small smile crossed on his lips. The irony of his circumstances didn't escape him. Timeless tradition dictated that he be back home, studying his craft, yet here he was getting his fill of the life of an exchange student. Even an aspiring third-generation magus like him had a lot to live up to.

He would be lying, though, if he said he didn't enjoy the normalcy of his current routine.

The day came and went as those before had; some lessons were memorable, and some couldn't end sooner. Until, that is, the time came around for what was arguably his favorite course in the whole week: shodō, or calligraphy.

The current atmosphere of the classroom was one of peace and relative quiet, save for the occasional soft chatter as the students worked. Out of the twenty-five or so students of the entire 2-B class, Connor was the only male. While initially daunting, any concerns of isolation were rendered moot after the warm welcome he had received upon first arriving. At least the homeroom had been receptive of him.

Seated next to him was his unofficial senpai, Reya Kusaka.

Reya was a second-year member of the Student Council, and someone he could call his first genuine friend in Kuoh. Light brown eyes, and matching long hair done in twin braids and held with a blue headband framed a youthful face that beheld a gentle, soft-spoken soul. The standard uniform of Kuoh Academy she wore, with its white button-down shirt, black neck ribbon, shoulder cape, corset and magenta skirt, proudly displayed her growing figure, and in particular, her chest. More often than not, he found himself making conscious efforts to not stare at i-

"Connor-kun?"

He blinked as Reya's soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "Huh? What?"

"Are you alright? You spaced out."

"Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry," he hurriedly apologized, embarrassed at his wandering mind. She did not need to know what it was he was thinking about.

"It's fine. Now, what does the overall message say?" In her hands was a sheet of paper with six kanji perfectly drawn and spread evenly across its surface in black ink.

'Eien… Nagare… and Taiga.'

""Eternally flowing river." It means that… you're at peace. Your hand flows as freely as the waters of a river. Is that it?" Reya liked to reference nature with a lot of her work, so this was a half-guess at best.

"You're right about the hand," she credited before correcting. "It also means that my mind is unbroken, free of distraction, thus allowing my hand to be so freely flowing."

"I'm sorry you have to teach this overgrown man-baby how to read and write," he sighed and slumped melodramatically.

Reya merely smiled at the joke. "It's no trouble. You're one of the only boys in the whole academy that shows an interest in calligraphy. All the others would rather join a sports club."

"With the exception of Matsuda, but we all know why he's in the Photo club."

"Why did you decide on calligraphy, Connor? Not that I'm unhappy that you did, but…" she trailed off, not wanting to pry too deep.

"No, it's fine." He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. By this time, their conversation had garnered the attention of their nearest classmates as well. "First of all, I guess I wanted to improve my penmanship. If you've seen the way I write normally, you'll know that it's garbage. I'm hoping this will help with fixing it. As for clubs, well… with the way things are going back home, I don't know if I'm going to need to drop everything here and hurry back on a moment's notice. If that were to happen after I joined a sports club, or any club for that matter, I'd feel like I was letting the group down by ditching them."

"If it was an emergency, I'm sure they would understand," she reasoned.

He shrugged half-heartedly. "Maybe, but still, it's the principle."

"Fear of commitment, perhaps?" a teasing voice piped up beside them. With a roll of his eyes, he turned to the voice's owner, who was giving her trademark half-lidded dark gold eyes and broad grin.

Aika Kiryuu, the shameless female parallel to the Perverted Trio, and the one girl in the whole academy they were afraid to set their hormonal sights on. As he had heard, she was able to determine the size of a man's… equipment with a mere glance. It made her something of a deterrent to the three, since she often turned the tables on their antics, but her own behavior made it a hassle trying to speak with her normally.

"Pray tell, how does that factor in?" he asked dryly.

"Well, aside from the fact that you've turned down every club invitation in the past week, for someone that enjoys the company they keep, you're pretty secretive." She fixed her round-rimmed glasses as she continued. "You go out of your way to make sure that you stay alone outside of homeroom. On top of that, you've always got your nose buried in your little notebook. And every time somebody gets close, you snap it shut before anyone can see what's in it."

Never let it be said that Aika Kiryuu wasn't as observant as she was incorrigible.

"That's personal," he calmly answered.

"Really?" she asked, unconvinced. "If it were so important, why do you keep bringing it to school, where so many have the chance to see it? C'mon, gaijin, spill it. What's your secret? What is it that you're trying so hard to hide, hmm? Are you working on a doujinshi? An erotic doujinshi featuring your new schoolgirl fetish?" By this time, she had leaned toward him enough to where he could catch the faintest hint of lilac.

With an annoyed huff, he put two fingers to her forehead and pushed her away. "Keep dreaming, chijo." (pervy girl)

"Okay," she chirped without missing a beat. He hadn't meant it as a challenge, but perhaps the tone he had used made it come off as one. He just knew he'd come to regret saying anything to her.

With a sigh, he turned back to Reya, who simply nodded in understanding and began another drawing. Such was his daily life: slowly settling in, making new friends, and learning a language within a language, all the while trying to maintain personal space from a nosy pervert.

'Not what I was expecting to be doing abroad.'

The Student Council Room of Kuoh Academy, located on the second floor of the main school building, was ordinarily a quiet place. What used to be an old conference room was gutted, repainted, and carpeted to give a quaint sense of authority, and the two large windows overlooking the school courtyard only completed the perception. Against the wall opposite to the windows sat a large desk with documents and utensils organized neatly on its surface, and spaced out in the center of the room, work desks and accompanying chairs faced each other in pairs.

Souna Shitori, or Sona Sitri as her inner circle knew her, was leaning back comfortably in a cushioned chair in the farthest corner from the door. At first glance, she was a very austere young woman in both appearance and expression, standing at 166 centimeters, black hair styled in a short bob cut with a gold pin over her left ear, violet eyes, and wearing the standard Kuoh Academy girls' uniform with nary a fiber out of place and magenta-rimmed glasses. Sitting across the chess table from her was her childhood friend and rival, Rias Gremory.

Slightly taller than her friend at 172 centimeters with pearly skin and turquoise eyes, Rias was a beauty of seemingly Western origin. She had long, crimson hair that perfectly framed her face at the front and reached down to her thighs at the back, and a buxom figure that was almost too good to be real. Like her friend, she wore the Kuoh Academy girls' uniform, but the outfit only accentuated her already impressive proportions.

"I believe this game is mine, Sona," said Rias confidently as she moved her knight piece.

"Are you sure about that, Rias?" Sona retorted as she moved her bishop to trap her opponent's king between two of her last pieces and against two of Rias' own. Any move Rias could make next would only result in defeat for her.

Rias clicked her tongue at the Zugzwang that her old friend had placed her in. "I could have sworn I had you this time."

"Of course you did, and that was your mistake," Sona replied, not even trying to hide her satisfaction.

"I want to say I was distracted by other things, like that group of squandering Fallen," Rias sulked.

"Speaking of which, how are you coming with that? I know you said you would handle it, but I want to make sure," Sona inquired.

"Well enough, I think," the Gremory heiress replied, running a hand through her hair. "They haven't done anything yet, but one of them just asked out Hyoudou Issei, based on what Koneko-chan tells me. The date is set for this Sunday evening."

"I see," said Sona evenly as she fixed her glasses. She knew that the boy in question had a Sacred Gear, hence Rias' interest in him, but she didn't understand why Rias would even think about going to such measures for a potential recruit. Her friend had reasoned that she wanted to see what the trespassing Angels were up to, but the ends didn't justify the means. It wasn't like her at all to use someone as bait.

"You're not jealous, are you?" Rias asked with a challenging smirk.

Sona lightly scoffed. "Hardly. Issei Hyoudou has potential, but his perversity is far too troublesome for my tastes. Besides, I already have my eye on someone else that will be more fitting for my peerage," she finished with a small smile.

The black-haired Devil heiress was fully aware that there was something special about the American exchange student. It wasn't because of a Sacred Gear he had, because he didn't; she had checked and her Bishop, Reya, had confirmed it. But for whatever reason, her thoughts drifted to him frequently of late. Ordinarily, she wouldn't act rashly based on simple emotions, but this was a feeling that was difficult to ignore, despite her best efforts. It didn't help that, over the course of his time at the academy, several members of her peerage had taken a different sort of interest in him, particularly Reya, Tomoe and Tsubaki, even if the latter of the three wouldn't admit to her own.

Sona could understand very well why the students in 2-B were happy with Connor. He was a rare kind of gentleman: Quiet, mild-mannered, and a good listener, despite his reported tendency to get lost in thought. She could count on one hand the number of men at Kuoh she knew with similar characteristics. If she were honest with herself, Sona could see in Connor nearly everything she wanted in a member of her peerage.

Rias noticed the forlorn look in her friend's eye, which was something she didn't see very much of in recent years. She couldn't hold back a smirk when she asked, "Really? This someone wouldn't happen to be Kuoh's newest Knight, would it, Sona? You only just reincarnated someone today, didn't you?"

"Perhaps, or perhaps not, but don't get any ideas, Rias. My new pawn, Saji, came to me of his own free will. I allowed you to scout Hyoudou, so leave my prospects be, whoever they are," Sona replied flatly. She knew that only Rias' Rook seemed to honestly like Connor, if only because he didn't bother her like the other boys did, while everyone else in her peerage was ambivalent to him. Furthermore, Rias had a tendency to go out of her way to spoil her servants. Sona wouldn't put it past her friend to try and bring someone into her peerage merely to make an existing member happy.

Not that the thought hadn't crossed her own mind before, but as the saying went, "Act in haste, repent at leisure." Sona took pride in being careful of who she selected for candidates.

Rias pouted at her friend's blunt answer. "Oh, fine, be that way. Anyway, I should be going. I'll need to make some preparations. Good game, again." She stood up and ushered herself out quickly, not noticing the small smile of relief from Sona.

Despite being her best friend, she was glad that the redhead wasn't going to press on the matter.

Two days later found Connor in casual jeans, sneakers and a light red t-shirt taking his time going the long way home. Normally, he would weave through the commercial district to quickly get to his apartment, but it was Sunday, so he wanted to enjoy the more scenic sights of the town before getting metaphorically locked in prison for another five and a half days. This was perfect fishing weather, dammit!

In his left hand were two flyers; one of which Reya had given him before he left school on Friday. He had forgotten to take it out of his blazer pocket the whole weekend, but remembered its presence after meeting a young woman in a bat-themed red and white maid outfit handing similarly designed flyers out earlier in the day. It was here that he received the second one. He read the words "Your wish will come true" with a sardonic smirk. Based on what he knew about wishes, they were never worth it. Be it by a genie, fairy godparents, a monkey's paw or whatever else, wishes always corrupted and twisted themselves back upon the wisher in one way or another.

Reya had tried to excuse the flyer as part of a project that she and a friend of hers were undertaking, but Connor knew what it was really for: it was a dime-a-dozen Devil's contract. The symbols inside the multi-layered circles were unintelligible to him, but the layout of the symbols reminded him of summoning circles he had seen in the past. Decoding and comparing the two diagrams would make for an interesting case study.

His smile faded as he looked back up to continue admiring his surroundings. He didn't regret taking up the lifestyle that he did, but he could understand what his father meant by treating magecraft with a level of moderation. Obsessing over it left little time to enjoy life.

As he passed by the park a few blocks away from his apartment, Connor noticed a couple standing by the fountain. One was a girl that he hadn't seen before, but the other was someone he knew almost too well. Issei Hyoudou, the self-proclaimed 'Harem King of Kuoh.' The most perplexing thing about the sight was the fact that the girl wasn't recoiling in disgust at the pervert. In fact, she was… holding his hands?

Those hands?

"Okay… what?" he mumbled. As casually as possible, he strode to within hearing distance then exchanged the flyers for his phone, pretending to receive a text. Glancing to the couple, he discerned the unknown girl to be the Yuuma Amano that Issei had been bragging about all of Friday afternoon. He didn't buy it at the time, believing that the kid was just screwing with his friends, but there they were, plain as day.

He had to admit, she was attractive in a cutesy way: a pretty face with violet eyes and framed by long black hair, a well-developed figure held in by a pink blouse, black skirt and black shoes, and on her wrist was a pink scrunchy bracelet. The look in her eyes said that she was genuinely enjoying her time with the boy. Whether or not she knew of his status as the 'Harem King' didn't seem to be a factor. Meanwhile, Issei –sporting a light grey button-down shirt and darker grey pants– looked like he was walking on the moon, simply overjoyed at being so close to a girl without suffering bodily harm. Connor was actually somewhat happy for his underclassman; a real girl to set him straight was just what he needed.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so Connor pocketed his phone and made to walk away. At least until he heard Yuuma ask, "Could you die for me?" He turned in their direction, wondering if he'd heard her correctly. It was a bizarre question to ask somebody you barely knew. Issei must have thought that as well, but when he asked for clarification, all he got in response was a mature, malevolent voice uttering the same words, "Could you die for me?"

Yuuma suddenly leapt back and was engulfed in a flash of light. As the light died out, it revealed a now slightly taller woman, but with much darker purple eyes, and a fully mature body that was barely kept covered by leather straps and metallic rings. She now resembled something one would see in an S&M porn movie. Two feathered wings as black as night jutted from her back, all but confirming her existence as a Fallen Angel.

'What the hell?! What are they doing here?'

"I would say that I'm sorry about this, Issei, but I'm not," she mocked the stunned teen. "While it was nice playing around with you, I'm a busy woman and I have orders to kill you. If you want someone to blame for this, blame God for putting that Sacred Gear in you. Oh, and my name is Raynare." A red spear of light manifested in her hand as she finished.

From his newly-acquired position behind a tree, Connor witnessed everything, wondering why Issei wasn't running for his life.

"Oppai! Real oppai!"

Sadly, it seemed Issei either forgot or was completely ignoring the situation. Connor stared in disbelief that that was actually the first response from Issei. In that moment of hesitation, Raynare struck.

"Ugh, creepy little…" Raynare wrinkled her nose in disgust before hurling her weapon at her victim.

The spear of light flew true, piercing the boy's chest, then vanished, leaving only a gaping hole where his left pulmonary artery had previously met his heart. It would take mere minutes for him to bleed out; no amount of help would save him.

"Fuck!" Connor silently cursed as Issei collapsed. Fortunately for him, Raynare didn't seem to notice since she continued to watch Issei as he futilely struggled to breathe. Taking cover behind the tree, his eyes clenched in anger.

'Dammit! Why didn't I-'

"That's just sloppy, Raynare. Did you really expect to cut corners and get away with it?" A deep male voice reprimanded as its origin casually walked out from the tree line. Peeking from around the tree, Connor saw that it was a middle-aged man, or at least he appeared that way from a distance, with black hair and blue eyes. His attire consisted of pants, shoes and gloves all in black, a white dress shirt, a gray trench coat, and a white ascot and black fedora to finish the hitman look.

"Dohnaseek? Were you shadowing me?" Raynare demanded.

"Yes, I was. And I must say, I am aghast at what I just saw," the newly dubbed Dohnaseek scolded while counting off on his fingers. "You didn't wait until the sun went down, didn't set up a barrier to keep prying eyes away, and didn't even check for witnesses, much less notice that the human hiding behind that tree over there saw the entire thing!"

Connor's blood ran cold when the man pointed in his direction. He'd been found out. Before he could think any further, he forced himself away from the tree just as a blue light spear impaled the exact spot where his back had been flush against it. The spear almost immediately vanished, leaving a fist-sized hole in the tree's trunk. That would've been a lethal hit regardless of anything that happened afterward.

Dohnaseek continued his rant while Raynare looked at the boy in surprise. "You call yourself a senior field agent, and yet you pull stupid shit like this? It makes me wonder just how many of your previous reports have been falsified to cover your own ass."

"Shut up, you pedantic old prick!" an indignant Raynare rounded on him.

While Connor collected himself, two more figures strode out next to the male Fallen. The first was a short blue-eyed girl with blonde hair done in twin tails. She wore a gothic Lolita dress with a green jewel embedded in the collar, complete with a frilly headpiece and stockings. Beside her was a tall woman with waist length blue hair and amber eyes. She had a much more matured figure that was emphasized by a wide-collared burgundy coat and miniskirt, black high heels, and a small gold necklace. The two seemed either disinterested or frustrated upon arrival, but Connor noticed the older woman perk up when she made eye contact with him.

"Mittelt, Kalawarner, did you follow me, too?" Raynare suddenly felt very self-conscious.

"Nah, we followed Dohnaseek," the blonde Fallen nonchalantly replied while inspecting her nails. "So, we gotta kill this guy, too? Meh, okay," she shrugged before manifesting a pink spear in her hand and grinned at Connor.

The tall bluenette didn't say anything out loud, but between her glowering and muttering, Connor could only surmise that she really didn't want to be there. This surprised him at first, but maybe he could use this to his advantage. It was a shot in the dark, but if he could talk at least one of them out of it…

"What's with that look, Kalawarner? He's a living witness. Come on," Raynare ordered. Kalawarner glared back at her like she had just been spat on.

Connor noticed this dissent and opened his mouth to speak again before he quickly dodged another blue spear flying toward him. The blade tore his sleeve as he leaned away, barely missing his skin and embedding itself into a different tree before disappearing. He turned back while he straightened his stance again, identifying his attacker as the male Fallen.

"Good reflexes," Dohnaseek complimented while creating another light spear. "Such a shame, really. You should have just stayed away."

With a roar, he leaped into the air to attack from above. Connor dove to the right to avoid the strike, dirt and dust sent flying from the Fallen Angel's strike. He barely had time to duck as another swing made to decapitate him. As the dust settled, he jumped toward Dohnaseek and pushed away the lance, putting himself behind the killing range of his attacker.

While Dohnaseek's spear gave him great melee range, his use of it left a zone of vulnerability in his immediate front and back. Connor's only chance was to exploit that.

He blocked, dodged and redirected swipe after swipe, trying to come up with a plan. He had left most of his runestones at the apartment, which was a stupid move in hindsight, and he couldn't set or draw any runes around him with this man's wide swings. And on top of all that, if his shirt was any clue, then the runes he had inscribed on his clothes weren't enough to protect him against their weapons. What a train wreck! This dance went on for about twenty seconds before his attacker got impatient.

"Damn it all! Hold still, you little monkey!" Dohnaseek snapped, thrusting forward to eviscerate his target. With only a fraction of a second to spare, Connor's hand shot forward and grabbed the spear from behind the blade. The Fallen Angel tried to pull and jerk his weapon away, but the teen's grip held. Had he been paying close attention, Dohnaseek would have seen a brief, orange glow between the boy's fingers. What he did see, though, was the spear shaft crumpling with a metallic groan under a tightening grip. Then, a slow twist of the human's wrist bent the spearhead upward, almost perpendicular to the ground.

"I-impossible!"

"Ah, fuck it," Connor snarled.

With force, he tore off the spear head and gripped the broken shaft section like one would hold a hatchet. What followed was a series of wild swings and relentless advances that quickly put Dohnaseek on the defensive. Strike after strike sent sparks flying as the weapon repeatedly collided with what used to be its other half. After about thirty seconds of this assault, a powerful final blow sent Dohnaseek staggering backward. It was a prime opportunity, but not enough that he could capitalize with his makeshift axe, so Connor discarded it and held his hand over his right shoulder, palm facing his head.

In a vortex of blue magical energy, a long sword manifested in his hand. The keen double-edged blade stretched slightly over a full meter in length, and its glowing red steel appeared almost alive with energy. With no guard to speak of, other than a flared base held securely by overlapping metal bands, the long hilt suggested that the sword was constructed to act as a two-handed weapon. A final note of intrigue was the much shorter, narrower blade affixed to the pommel of the weapon. While certainly sharp, the smaller blade acted as more of a counterweight than a true cutting edge. (1)

Dohnaseek stared for a moment in surprise as the human brought his saber to bear. "A magician?"

"Magus," was the terse reply.

The Fallen's brow furrowed in confusion before he shook it off. He turned to his compatriots with a scowl. "Hey! What are you waiting for?! Get over here and help me!"

"Why? You're the one he's after." The blonde Fallen, Mittelt, was content to stand back and watch. She must have been one of those people that got a kick out of seeing someone like Dohnaseek struggle, and found it even funnier since a human was making him do it.

"Get the fuck over yourself, Mittelt! The rest of you, too! I do not need to tell you what will happen if he leaves here alive! Now get over here, or I'll kill you all myself and write you off as dead weight!" Dohnaseek roared, pretty well fed up with everything and everyone.

Connor grimaced. Fighting one on one with a supernatural being was difficult enough as it was. With four on one, his chances of survival hit rock bottom. No matter how many he could take down, there was no way he was leaving the park alive. Unless…

As the argument ensued, no one noticed Connor quietly lower his weapon to hide his left hand as it rummaged through his pocket. From it, he retrieved a red runestone no wider than a 1 yen coin but as thick as ten of them put together. It was only one of three he had on him, and this one was the only one of its particular function at the moment.

He had never tried using that before, but he had no other options now. It had to work!

"Hey!" he barked, grabbing everyone's attention. Taking advantage of the distraction, he flicked the runestone into the air between the Angels and ducked down, covering his ears and slamming his eyes shut. All eyes were on the airborne stone for a half second until it erupted in a blinding flash of light and concussive burst of sound.

"AAAAHHH!"

"MY EYES!"

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

The blast from the magecraft equivalent of a flashbang grenade had hurt Connor's ears as well, though not nearly as bad as it would have been in a tight space, but now he had a window of opportunity. With all his assailants blinded and stumbling around for a good few seconds, he had bought himself time to enact his plan. Fighting past the roaring tinnitus, he lifted his left hand and, using his index finger like a stylus, drew runes into the air before him in rapid succession.

'Algiz! Nauthiz! Ansuz! Inguz!'

With a swipe of his hand, the effects of the sequence set in. A runic circle briefly flashed on the ground below him, and he felt himself freeze as a primal sense of fear took hold of him. Now he understood why his grandfather had expressly forbidden him from invoking this curse. It felt like… something was standing right behind him, leaning over him and breathing down his neck, but even that seemed to downplay the sensation of terror. His whole body was screaming at him to fight and kill the black-winged man in order to make the thing behind him go away. It took a considerable effort to stop himself from charging ahead and doing just that.

The Fallen all seemed to feel the effects, too. Dohnaseek tensed and he frantically looked behind him with widened eyes, and the women all jumped and scrambled away from them while dispelling their weapons. Connor let out a shaky breath he didn't know he was holding. "It worked."

"What the hell did you do?!" the man yelled.

"Ath nGabla," he answered, his hearing slowly coming back to him. "A curse that invokes one-on-one combat, used among the Knights of the Red Branch. With this, retreat is not an option, and neither is refusal to fight. You and I are in this to the death, with no outside interference." The magus then glanced to the newly made spectators. "Sorry, ladies."

As much as he wanted to make a break for it while they were impaired, he knew that any one of them could catch up quickly and kill him from a distance. At least this way, he had a marginal chance of surviving the encounter by forcing them to fight one at a time.

'Although, Ath nGabla isn't supposed to make you feel like you're being hunted. Right? I must've screwed up somewhere in there.'

The reactions were varied: Raynare and Mittelt were befuddled, Kalawarner was shocked that someone in this day and age even knew what Ath nGabla was, and Dohnaseek seemed within moments of going nuclear.

"Don't think that will save you. Know your place!" Dohnaseek bellowed as he surged forward. Connor assumed a defensive stance and braced for impact.

Rias Gremory couldn't believe what she was seeing.

She had been summoned by the flyer in Issei Hyoudou's pocket, only to find him half dead with a hole in his chest while the sounds of steel clashing against steel rang throughout the park. Curiously, she went to investigate, and found a magic barrier of simple construction. It took little effort to stealthily breach it, but she was not prepared for what was within. Like a sequence from an action film, the academy's American exchange student, armed with a large red sword, was trading blows with a Fallen Angel in a gray trench coat, both combatants tearing up the ground around them as they dueled. Three other Fallen hovered around the pair, keeping their eyes both on the duel and the barrier they had set up. Luckily for her, they were more focused on the former.

As the fight carried on, she noticed something strange. Connor wasn't losing any ground to his opponent. Based on what she knew about him already, Rias didn't take Connor to be anything special. It shouldn't be possible for a normal human to hold their own against a Fallen Angel. Unless he was a descendant of a hero or something similar.

But then she saw, running along the length of his arms, symbols of some kind, glowing with all the colors of fire. Her eyes widened in realization; he was strengthening himself through rune magic!

'He's a magician!' she concluded. 'How did we not notice earlier? Wait, does Sona know? If she does, then… then it would make sense why she would be tight-lipped about it. She gets a magician who's ahead of the curve, while I get a guaranteed Sacre-'

And that thought brought her back to reality. As much as she wanted to see how this would turn out, Issei was almost out of time. If she stuck around any longer, she would lose her opportunity to reincarnate the boy. There was too much at stake for her to waste any more time and lose someone that she didn't doubt would help her with her problem.

With one last apologetic glance back at the battle, Rias snuck away and returned to the bloodied teen on the grass, retrieving a small box from her pocket.

"Don't worry, I'll pick you up. From now on, you will live for me."

The battle had raged for five whole minutes, and both combatants were in bad shape.

Every move made by one combatant was perfectly matched by the other for the first two minutes; Connor's unorthodox swordsmanship against Dohnaseek's experience and natural strength. Neither took their eyes off the other, and the weapons in their hands sang into the night sky as they either sliced through the air or collided with the other. Over time, however, Connor was beginning to show signs of fatigue; his movements were slowing down and he was taking heavier breaths during the brief respites in the duel. He had, however, scored several good cuts on his adversary, despite taking a very distracting gash to his own left arm and a jarring blunt strike to his left cheek.

The two men broke away from a lock, and jumped back to catch their breath.

Dohnaseek inhaled deeply, then straightened his back. "That's it! THAT'S IT! I am through playing by your little game!"

"Playing? You're breathing just as hard as I am," Connor quipped.

"Shut your fucking mouth, human! I will gut you like a fish!" Dohnaseek spat as he poured more light magic into his weapon. This had the effect of broadening the head and sprouting even more cutting edges.

Connor said nothing more, but merely heaved a sigh and broke his ready stance. Standing up straight, he closed his eyes and let his arms relax to his sides.

While initially confused by the change in posture, Dohnaseek was too angry to give it a second thought. If this whelp was giving up, who was he to deny the death he welcomed? He just wanted to be done with this crap!

Connor's eyes snapped open, revealing formerly hazel eyes to be a bright toxic green. If one looked closely enough, they would see tiny waves of white slowly dance along the middle of the iris, surrounded by a band of forest green on the outer border.

In an instant of eye contact, he saw Dohnaseek's intention. More specifically, to use a burst of speed to lunge forward on the ground, pierce his abdomen, twist the spear, and violently rip out every possible organ. With that, he had discerned all of the Fallen's possible trajectories, and chose a proper counter for the most likely one. (2)

True to his intent, Dohnaseek lunged forward and thrust at Connor's stomach, never once looking away from his target. The killing blow wasn't meant to be, however, as Connor suddenly twisted his body to evade and raised his right foot to stomp on the incoming spear, slamming it into the dirt and throwing Dohnaseek off balance. Taking his chance, Connor reversed his grip on his sword and forced Dohnaseek onto his knees while he swung himself around to stand over the man.

With all the force he could muster, he drove his blade downward, impaling his opponent through the chest. Blood splattered both on the ground and on Connor's face with a gruesome cascade as the tip of Connor's weapon emerged through Dohnaseek's sternum and stabbed the dirt below them. The Fallen Angel barely had time to gasp from the pain of a severed spine and trachea before his life ceased.

Slowly, the magus withdrew his sword from his defeated enemy. As the body settled, the sense of impending death in his head finally stopped. The conditions of Ath nGabla were now met, freeing him from its curse. Wiping his mouth and eyes free of blood, he stood up straight and addressed his audience.

"Next?"

Nobody said anything for several seconds, the female Fallen all seeming to still process what had just happened.

"T-There's no way… How did– !" Raynare's panic was short lived when she noticed the boy's expression and heavy breathing. "Keh, doesn't matter! You're still going to die!"

"No, I think we're done here."

"Wha-" The sound of steel crashing against skull silenced the brunette Fallen. She crumpled to the ground in a unconscious heap, and standing behind her was Kalawarner, that same look of disdain present on her face and a light spear held like a blunt object in her hands.

"Kala! What the hell ar-"

"Shut up, Mittelt!" Kalawarner roared, then turned back to Connor with an intimidating glare, only somewhat disconcerted by those luminous orbs. "Of all people capable of killing a Fallen Angel with a single blow, I didn't expect it to be a Gear-less human." She clicked her tongue as she gestured to Raynare. "You're lucky that this idiot overstepped her bounds, otherwise we would have been within rights to kill you immediately after."

"I was defending myself."

"Regardless if it was self-defense, an accident or aggravated murder, you still killed Dohnaseek. The Grigori takes the deaths of its operatives very seriously. There will be consequences for this, but not tonight. I have her mess to clean up," she grumbled while picking up the limp body of Raynare none too gently. She then looked to Mittelt, who hadn't moved from where she stood. "Mittelt, pick up Dohnaseek, we're leaving."

"Wha- b-but he's weak, we can-"

"Now!" The roar made Mittelt jump, and she hastily gathered up the male Fallen's corpse before taking flight. Kalawarner turned, giving one last baleful glance towards Connor, then lifted off to follow her companion into the air, both quickly disappearing from sight.

When he could no longer hear the sound of wing-beats, he sighed in relief and dropped to his knees. His grip on his sword relaxed as he brought it back over his shoulder and allowed it to disperse like mist into the wind. Not ten seconds later, the adrenaline surging through his veins was cut off, and he clenched his teeth and hissed. His now normal eyes stung, as they typically did when he employed their higher use. No matter how often he practiced with them, they always stung like they were slathered with soap once he turned them off. Worse still, the aftereffects were proportionate in their time limit; the longer of a duration he used his Mystic Eyes for, the longer he was effectively blind afterward.

To his frustration, he didn't have the special equipment needed to learn the reason for that by himself, so he couldn't build a Mystic Code to counter the effects. It wasn't exactly something he could go to an optometrist about. For the time being, his only working solution was to use them as sparingly as possible.

After a few minutes of fighting to see again, he looked to his wounds to assess the damage. The gash he had sustained on his upper arm was still bleeding, though it was luckily not very deep. Shifting his weight to his right leg and twisting his arm so that the elbow faced forward, he lifted his right hand and drew runes across the wound with his index finger.

'Fehu. Mannaz. Uruz. Tiwaz. Nauthiz.'

His teeth clenched even tighter as the runic spell set to work, slowly stretching the lacerated skin and underlying blood vessels into their proper place, then sealing them shut in a light yellow hue. Comparatively speaking, the pain of the procedure was similar to getting stitches under a weak anesthesia. When he first used the spell on himself years ago, it felt like someone was pulling the skin together with hot tweezers. The ugly scar on his shin was his reminder to never use himself as a medical experiment again.

By the end of it, a light purple scar no wider than a pencil lie contrasting against the surrounding healthy skin. Hopefully, no one he knew would notice the sudden appearance of a scar that wasn't there before. Especially Aika.

With the danger over for the moment, he thought back to the fight and cringed at the egregious risks he'd just taken tonight. They were many in number, but the biggest was even getting into this situation in the first place! He knew better, he'd been taught better, than to charge headlong into a fight that he shouldn't be able to win, not knowing at all what to expect, and yet he acted on little more than impulse after adrenaline-fueled impulse. Now he'd made himself a target to the damn Grigori! Like he didn't have enough problems to deal with!

"Connor, you fucking idiot," he berated as he stood up and approached the spot where Issei had fallen. Only to find it empty of a body, a pool of blood being the only evidence that something was ever there.

Confused, he looked to the fountain, then back to the patch. Issei had dropped right there, he was sure of it. There were no bloody streaks in the grass or on the sidewalk, so he hadn't been dragged away. At the same time, though, there were no random droplets around the pool from being carried away, nor were there any scorch marks to attest possible destruction of the body.

'The only way somebody could move a fresh corpse without leaving a trail would be to… teleport it away, and that's…'

His brow furrowed as he pulled out the parchment paper from his pocket. The pieces fell together in an instant. While he was fighting Dohnaseek, some Devil or another had come along and reincarnated the half-dead brunette, likely to lay claim to whatever Sacred Gear it was that Raynare had mentioned earlier.

"Vultures," he spat. They had to have been watching the pervert for some time if they were so quick to act. Logically speaking, he had no way of knowing who had done it, or where they had taken the body. Even if he did, though, it wouldn't matter; Issei was now somebody's property.

With a slow start, the exhausted magus began the trek back to his apartment, but not before picking up the spent flashbang rune as well as several black feathers that Dohnaseek had lost during their fight. He'd have to ramp up his security measures as soon as possible; new Bounded Field around the apartment, update his sensory runes to detect Fallen from a distance, maybe come up with a sequence that could react negatively to Fallen flesh…

But before any of that, he had to study his source material. Sadly, there was only so much one could with just feathers.

"It's going to be a long night," he sighed tiredly. "I might not even be functional enough for school tomorrow. Shit."

As he trudged home, he failed to notice a figure curiously watching him from atop a telephone pole down the street.

"Ara ara~" they cooed before vanishing in a red magic circle.

…

(1): For visual reference, I was going for the Reforged Gram that Sigurd in Fate/Grand Order uses. The first and second ascension versions. Note that it is NOT the real Gram, I just like the design. High School DxD has its own version of Gram in the hands of canon Siegfried.

(2): By Type Moon standards, I don't think this is overpowered. Seriously, you should see what Mystic Eyes in the Nasuverse are capable of, Shiki Ryougi having the most well-known example of them. Some of those make the Sharingan look like cataracts in comparison. Then again, I don't care much for the Naruto-verse anymore, so my opinion is biased.

…

This story/challenge is essentially a rewrite of my first little experiment into fan-fiction writing. Some changes to the plot here and there, and some added details, while other parts were left alone.

My first attempt at a story (under a different title and username) was about the main character getting involved with the canon plot in a manner that many other stories have done in the past. Unfortunately, I took a very clichéd route in doing so: MC is a transfer student, joins the Kendo club, all the girls like him, guys don't, he gets caught in the crossfire of Issei's date, blah blah blah, we've read it a million times now. It might have actually worked if I had made the MC seem more like a character than a placeholder, as well as include proper exposition, but I was flying by the seat of my pants trying to get something out there.

The biggest thing that I wanted to really put into motion was a story where the MC was aware of the supernatural and was able to deal with it should the need arise. No turning into a Devil in the first chapter, that's even more overdone than the aforementioned cliché.

So yeah, new guy actually knows what he's doing, and would prefer to keep under the radar to some measurable degree. I can only hope that I've done a decent job at portraying an actual character here.

…

Anyway, here's the gist of the challenge.

High School DxD - OC-centric Magician

The title says it all: Create a story centered around a neutral magic-using OC. There are far too few of these on .

No super-genius, super-talented, super-athletic, super-anything about them. It may be their story, but the world does not cater to them. There's nothing more unoriginal than a Mary Sue/Gary Stu.

No Sacred Gear, their abilities are products of prior experience. If they're going to have a clutch power of any kind, it must have a cost. There must be a balance between strengths and weaknesses.

Pick a pairing or harem carefully, if any. Don't have every member of the opposite sex dropping their pants at a mere passing glance of the MC. Ichiei Ishibumi already has that covered with other characters.

Their professional pride as a magus/magician/spellcaster will be a key part of their personality. They'll take a risk or make a deal if they feel the benefits outweigh the costs, but there are some prices they will never pay.

Whatever form of magic they use, they will have received training prior to the story's onset. They can be self-taught in their applications of it, but the rudimentary magic has to have come from somebody else.

…

If you would like what you read, leave a favorite, a follow or a review to let me know. Any advice or support that you could give would be greatly appreciated. If you'd like to take a shot at the challenge, send me a PM, I'd love to hear your thoughts on it.

Thank you for reading!