The following is a non-profit, fan-based AU story. [High School DxD] is owned by Ishibumi Ichiei, Miyama-Zero, Fujimi Shobo, TNK and Funimation. Please support the official release.

Oh, and I did update on the 7th May with Part 1, but for some reason the site didn't recognise that in spite accepting the new chapter. I do apologise if you felt like you've waited for longer than you should have. I have no excuse for why this took so long except that I had trouble writing it out. I'm sorry for that.

Let's go.

AN: It's a long chapter, so there are probably mistakes I've missed.

Previously:

"Double skewering, coming your way!"

"I should have done this a long time ago!"

"I'll be right there. Stay put."

"Easy for you to say!"

"Devils opening a portal. I knew it was only a matter of time!"

"I really hope you have a plan for this, Sona."

"I'm cracking my head around it. J- . . . Just, give me a few minute to think."

"I assume you are the ringleader of this incursion. Am I right, Cimalon?"

"Dragon slayer?"

". . . *gasp* Y- . . . You . . . kn-n-now . . . *cough*cough* . . . *cough* . . . *gasp*gasp*n-nothing."

"Rust in vred."

"I- *cack* I'll k-kill you!"

["I'd like to see you try, fallen one!"]

"You stuck quite a number of hole in me. I think it's only fair that I return that favour while you're still conscious. No, while you're still breathing."

"I watched all of you. You, former humans. Fucking disgusting how you just try to fade yourselves into the crowd. Humans."

". . . I . . . I'm so . . . scared. I . . . want to go home."

"Nimura-san, please. Hang on. You will be ok. Ok?"

"Wait! . . . Is that?"

In the dark shadows hanging over this once holy church, kneeling at the altar not too far from where I, Father Willem Mertens, had killed the fallen angel, I prayed unto the Lord.

"Heavenly Father, I continue to give my thanks for the days you have given unto me, and unto your flock as thy Shepard. Continue to grant your blessings unto Hanna, as she continues to act in thy name and for thy services to your holy church on Earth as she would do in Heaven. I beg also for thy forgiveness, that my faith hath been slightly shaken from your path. I am now with sin, for I have questioned your continued existence. If I shalt be cast into the lake of fire for my actions, then I shall accept thy judgement. If this shalt be yours, then continue to watch over your children in my stead. Amen."

The fallen's words had not hit home. For, I had already suspected as much myself after all these years. Ever since a time long passed, I had my suspicions that perhaps we were convinced to blind ourselves from the truth that it never could reach us.

I knew for a long while, like most of the higher ups and veterans, that it was Lord Michael holding the throne of Heaven, and not God. God had been killed. His demise . . . I wish not to speak anymore on the subject. It should come as no surprise why Christendom has fallen into decline.

Nevertheless, I prayed that He would know of what I was doing. I knew he would not answer me if I had asked for him to do what needed to be done to further ensure this armistice continued. For the good of all mankind, and for all three of our factions in this cold war period of our times.

I, who had been excommunicated from the church because I came to know the existence of other such gods that populate the world.

I, who refused the avid promotion to the celestial rings and chose a self-imposed exile so that I could continue my work as a man bound by virtue than by contract.

I, who surrendered my holy sword, my longest partner, granted unto me by the Seraph themselves and was given a replica as compensation.

Though I was sent here, far, far away to avoid theological corruption spreading, I was kept within the higher ups favours thanks to the Archangel's intervention to allow me to continue be of service.

Here, in the furthest Orient, I re-established a long abandoned base after a ten year long contactless exile to Hokkaido. When I was also gifted with the church's trust to supervise the growth of an up and coming exorcist in our times. Even if she was still too green toward the world, she would mature in time, I swore it as my duty. The descendant of the bloodline of one who once held the title of [Strongest Exorcist], as well as her courtesy hereditary title of [Christiberfürworten]. She was destined for greatness, and I would do anything to ensure it became so.

Knowing that God, and likely by extension Lord Michael, would be unable to act directly in our aid, I took it upon myself to make a request to outside forces. Actions befitting one who was excommunicated, even if I was still kept on a relatively loose leash. My gnostic behaviour to question the views had incurred the church's anger, but Heaven had spared my dismissal even at the cost of everything.

My request, went out to the local gods of this island. Those associated with the Shinto faith. Even if it meant casting my soul to the Inferno, my priority went to my student above all else. My time was past its prime, and hers had yet to begin. I was willing to smile in the face of Lucifer himself and proud to have fulfilled my role accordingly.

Kneeling once before, I faced the slopes, to the temple I had not seen but knew still stood far above the mountain and across the small lake to the island in the centre. Though I had turned my back towards the town and the inevitable destruction being wrought behind, it would only be temporary.

"Dear Goddess, who is known only to this island. The one they call Irori of the Heart. Lady and keeper to the hearth that burns in everyone's homes. I am not of your faith nor your worship, and therefore I am not under your obligations to be granted a request. But, in this most desperate of times, I ask only that you protect your own from the dangers our faction's battles hath brought to your land. I beseech thee, that if my words be it not enough to satisfy thee, then take my life in comeuppance. On this which was once sacred land belonging to thee, I pray that the innocent will not suffer for our sins. Amen."

I paused for a moment, but I acknowledged one last request I most importantly needed to add.

"And, . . . keep Hanna safe in this darkest times to come."

Then, a gust of wind swept through the abandoned aisles and through the chipped and broken benches that lay about the place. The single candle was snuffed of life and then it was all silent again.

I do not know if my wish had been granted. But, I believed that in the trail of smoke left behind by that dying candle light, that the message was received.

*Snap!*

That sound of a small tree branch breaking beneath my foot echoes throughout the forest. I, Hyoudou Issei, had concluded my business with the fallen angel after driving the blade through his heart.

I had contemplated the idea. A blade in my hand and a significant amount of {boosts} to keep me standing while the pain still coursed through me. That very same ache and sting that incited my bloodlust was calling for me to enforce an 'eye for an eye'. Admittedly, I was quite taken to taste the fruit dangled in front of my face.

Ddraig, who had been itching for blood and battles as well, wanted to savour his freedom to the fullest.

However, after the first deep incisions into his limbs before I raced my blade across his torso like teasing the tip to break his ribs, I felt nothing. There was no euphoria in these actions. It was just an everlasting horizontal sea of nothing.

I felt no more satisfaction in killing him in his state of pathetic cowering. A demonic blade to the heart was enough to end him. The pain in itself was equivalent to that of a light spear to a devil. His heart continued pumping even after his brain went dead as I pulled it from his chest at the tip of my sword.

Three times it pumped before it started slowing. I just watched it. I watched the last contractions of his cardiac muscles that had been circulating the tainted blood through his body, leaking as it thumped. It lived for another two minutes after he died, before the organ stopped playing.

Then, it was just another dead meat. Sitting silent, on the tip of my sword.

I sent the nodachi back into the {Boosted Gear}, and I initially thought to leave the corpse to the creepy crawlies of the undergrowth to deal with in their own time. But, policy of evidence meant that it was better for all that it was disposed of without a trace.

Grabbing the corpse by the wings, I gave it a toss into the air as high as I could throw it.

["{Boost!} {Boost!} {Boost!} {Boost!} {Boost!} {Boost!} {Boost!} . . . {Explosion!}"]

One {Dragon Shot} later, and there was little left of the fallen angel's body by a few feathers that had been tattered and broken across the ground. Fabrics that had been ripped from his clothes, hair singes and trailed from various places, and a few of his yellow fangs were also left in pools of blood. But apart from that, there was no longer a body for anyone to discover anymore.

I was still encased in full armour, and the number of {boosts} I had added didn't deplete with that attack. So long as I wasn't wasting energy needlessly, I could have held this form for almost half a day if I wanted.

Not today though, no. The {boosts} I had stockpiled where keeping my body upright and moving as if normal against the overwhelming wash of light spear wounds dotted across every inch of my body below my neck.

The sound of my armour clanking around as I walked kept my attention largely away from the pains that still persisted to place pressure to my senses.

I turned towards the scene to look for anything else that needed to be destroyed or disposed of, but it was only after I looked over the landscape of broken trees and scorched shrubs that I remembered a certain someone when I looked to the direction of the Cliffside.

The exorcist. My temporary ally in a dire moment.

The sign of her head bleeding from the side of the rock, but that had largely scabbed over on its own by the time I had reached her side. I hadn't thought it odd at the time how quickly a wound like that was healing, but there was little a devil could know about what the church did to their little warriors. Experimentation was a quiet rumour at most, but it was general considered to be a truthful fact without much evidence to build on.

A broken sword lay metres from her, but a few of the shards were scattered across the woods. The once brilliant silver had died and become less than dull in both grey and sharpness. Whatever magic that had been imbued into the blade was gone and not even a dying light could be seen with sharper eyes like mine.

Still, I dared not touch what was still essentially silver, even when the apparent blessing was broken. I already tasted a sharp leech-like bite from it once. I ended up bagging the contents into a passing carrier bag rustling through the bushes after being carried here by the westerly winds. Even with my clawed gauntlet, I was cautious in how I attended to the broken weapon's contents.

Though she hadn't moved at all since her collision with the side of the cliff, her skin hadn't paled, and that gave me every indication she wasn't dead.

Placing my left gauntlet to her face, beneath her nose, and saw as the red metal fogged a little with condensation.

["She breathes. She was most certainly a lucky one, for a human especially"]

Indeed she was; to still be alive that was. The wound to her head was largely sticky, but had not cut too deeply. The unconsciousness appeared to be more attributed to stamina exhaustion and shock trauma rather than a blow to the back of her head.

The more pressing issue was that her jacket had loosened around her waist, and the wound in her side was still leaking and dripping. Within a few minutes, that wound would become a sticky mess that would be all the more likely to fester and become a haven for infections to poison her bloodstream.

I had no magic for healing. All I had was my {Boosted Gear} and a few magic arts delving into fire and wind, the arts favoured by the Phenex clan. For a family who naturally inherited the inborn power of {Regeneration}, why under earth would the study of healing magic be part of the curriculum?

I was not saying that it wasn't taught. It was just uncommon among the servants to know of healing magic when the main source of our recovery came from the exclusive use of {Phoenix Tears}. I knew for certain that I didn't know healing. The most I knew was to cauterize the wound with fire. That was my only experience, and it was all I had to show for many efforts successful and unsuccessful of my person and others that I had already practised on myself.

And that is just what I did. I cauterized the wound. Only enough that the bleeding stopped, but the skin itself was still fragile like a water balloon ready to burst against the slightest impact. She twitched slightly from the pain of her side being burnt, even with her conscious still many miles apart, but she largely remained with her eyes shut and unresponsive to take action against the foreign pain.

I did not consider my actions as any form of thanks. In fact I could have dealt with the fallen angel myself with a lot more ease had she not been there to begin with had cost me too many injuries that I could have done without. The enemy itself I can express would have been easier had I not been forced into a handicap by previous arrangements, as I already demonstrated to the now nothingness that once had what one might had considered sentience.

I would have called it dust now, but I was very thorough in my disposal of his remains. Cremation without the slightest remanence of ashes to pour into an urn save for the scraps that had been torn and broken before his demise.

"What do we do with her then?"

The dragon took little time to reply in his blunt nature.

["Does that matter?"]

Ddraig's words were indeed true; why did it matter? I was not obligated to help her, nor was it in my best interest to do so considering that had this been any other day, there was a good chance she would have been the one to kill me if I had been the one knocked out.

It wasn't speculation. It would have been a fact for all that was known.

I refer back to the conversations where she was showing intent to castrate me, so I need not explain my reasons if I had decided that doing any more than I already had was wasting time. My time. I took too many attacks that could have proven fatal that I wouldn't have needed to endure if it wasn't for her being here.

But . . .

Words filled my thoughts; Mortal wound. Half-dead. Abandoned.

Every one of them unpleasant, even more so had they been spoken aloud. The thought of leaving her here, to die, to her death. It was an overreaction. I knew I was over reacting to this.

I turned myself and took two steps away. Then I turned back, gritting my teeth together in frustration to my own decision as I picked her up off the ground. It would have been easier to have done it fireman style, but the sharp edges of my shoulder blades would have been a terrible place to rest an unconscious person with grievous injuries.

'Damn it.'

I mentally cursed myself, despite knowing deep down that I was ultimately doing the right thing in this situation. How could I have possible faced any one after abandoning an injured girl in the middle of a woods with such serious injuries to her person.

["*sigh* A quick detour will not alter our resolve. Do as you wish."]

His tone wasn't please, but he had conceded to the fact just as I had.

I looked to the wound in her side, noticing how it was still bleeding despite the cauterizing, so wrapped her jacket around again as best I could with one claw. The trickiest part had been resisting the subtlety in accidentally cutting it on my clawed fingers of my gauntlet.

I prayed the entire time that she didn't awaken to find one of her sleeves in my mouth after I dropped the face guard temporarily as I tightened the knot over the wound. I closed it over again once the makeshift bandage was

After identifying her residence through . . . secondary means, I prepared a teleport circle to drop her off at her home.

. . . Um, was it illegal to have looked for her address in her wallet? I mean, I did have to go through her pockets, but it was an emergency situation.

We arrived via a teleportation circle, though having to transition through what was an apparently light barrier didn't help the nausea building inside of me, which gave me a brief moment of vertigo after I re-apparated in her room.

For the sake of disclosure, I will opt out of giving out any vivid detail of what I saw in her home, and especially in her room. It was an obviously western styled house overall, like most of the newer houses outside of the older three districts.

["That wound is going to fester if you don't cover it."]

As I placed her down upon her bed, Ddraig was obviously paying more attention to her wound than I was as the jumper tied to her waist was soaking in the red quicker than I had anticipated. Though the cauterizing should have done the trick even temporary, it appeared that the bleeding was still present.

"Do you think we'll find any disinfectant i-"

["If you really want to hang around for that long at an exorcist's home, then you can waste our time looking for something that might not even be there. Unless, if that is the case, you wanted to consider domi-"]

I knew where he was going, and I put an immediate stop it. I need not explain what exactly this perverted dragon was about to suggest I do in the presence of an unconscious girl.

"Ddraig, do you want to finish that sentence, or do you think it would be better not getting your jewel scratched the side of the road?"

I cut off the dragon before he could go any further, invoking a similar incident that happened previously when he started trying to preach his own ideals I found to be uncouth given the circumstances.

[" . . . "]

He went to silence as he should have. To suggest such a thing at a time like this was not unlike him, but neither was the memory of the first time he made such a statement aloud. He remembered it just as well as I had that the metal rings for a quite a while after repeated assaults.

I looked only briefly through the house, venturing only as far as the kitchen and the bathroom, but even the sight of crosses over the doorways made that such an unpleasant experience. Nothing too potent, but the spine splitting shivers struck me all over every time I walked through each of the portals to another room.

I eventually came across a few tissues procured from the kitchen, and a thin but long towel from the bathroom to make a more lasting bandage for the wound than her jacket was. Considering how bloodied it was, the clean white colour it once was may have well been non-existent in the shades of red and brown and streaks of green. Leaving such a thing near an open cut in the skin was not doing it any favours.

As I took it off her and unfurled it to place it across her chair, I had to forcefully tug on part of the jacket that had gotten itself caught in one of the zipped pockets to its sides. It wasn't by my original doing, at least I don't recall touching a single zip when I first moved it. I managed to pull it off without breaking either side, which opened this enclosed compartment-

*flash*

The was a small bang as something fell to the floor, but the blinding light that came almost the same time had drowned out any sense of its sound after falling from her pockets. But, I had the most curious case of déjà vu I couldn't quite put an armoured finger to.

As I lowered my left arm from over my face to look as the source of the instantaneous illumination, and saw nothing but a small device the size of letterbox sized parcel with the volume of a rubik's cube. The outer shell was very much outdated in shape, size and general appearance of the era, but it was undoubtedly easy to recognise what it was.

"A camera?"

I was about to crouch over, which was not the easiest task to accomplishing in full body armour, and reach out to pick up the object, until Ddraig's next words caused me to flinch back my hand before I potential injured myself any further.

["There's traces of holy magic inside that lens."]

I was almost hesitant to pick it up, even while wearing armour. Holy energy like those light spears was worse than silver, as I had already experienced. I mustered my courage and took hold of it with a single combination of index finger and thumb by the strap to its bottom right corner as I raised it to my face.

"What do you suppose it does?"

["You're seriously asking an ancient dragon what a camera does, Partner?"]

I will skip what avid inspection I did to a device before I became terribly embarrassed for looking over something so plainly ordinary that my suspicion of it appeared to be insanity. But, admittedly I looked over the entire box for safe measure, but found nothing to be out of the ordinary. Excuse me, nothing unordinary from a human perspective.

That flash was most likely the camera taking a picture of whichever way it was facing at the time. There was a danger to having allowed myself to be caught off-guard like this, but I thought nothing to a small image of myself being captured when I was about to carve the memory of my arrival into the last remaining fallen I could find in this town.

"It doesn't matter" I said, placing the jacket over the chair on the opposite side of her room. "I'm in full armour. There is no way she wouldn't hear about the [Red Dragon Emperor's] sighting in Kuoh at some point after today. If it's got a picture of me, it won't make matters any worse regardless."

"*Hat-choo!*"

I was about to leave, when I was drawn back by the sound of a sneeze behind me.

I had worried that the exorcist was now woken from a mediocre slumber due to exhaustion. I didn't want to think of how she was going to react seeing a giant suit of red armour standing with its back to her. In her own room my I add.

I shuffled my helmet around without hesitating, but I found to my relief that she was still asleep. I could have just shrugged it off of simply speaking about her behind her back one too many times today, but that was when I looked back and realised her arms and legs where curled up and cradling close to a fetal position atop her covers.

Though it was only October, it was drawing closer to the winter months and the dark was especially chilly. I thought about returning her jacket, but with it full of blood and other moistures it would have only been a handicap on her against the cold.

In a moment of residing madness, I deactivated my own armour with a sigh for a short while, and removed the black t-shirt I wore underneath my grey buttoned shirt. After placing my own t-shirt, relatively dry and a lot warmer than the rest of the room, on the side draws by her bed, I reached out with my own bare hands toward the exorcist sleeping on her bed.

It was only now that my body was out of the thick layers of metal that I felt how cold she was; where it had most likely had been hot after expending so much energy during the fight, the residual sweating that had occurred to cool her body was no its own worst enemy as she was close to freezing. Her red shirt was also doing a terrible job mopping up all this added moisture.

It was no shock that she was catching a cold like this.

While I wasn't-, I mean; while this wasn't something I had any real experience with doing, evident by how nervous and shaky my hands were which could very well have been justified as a muscle spasm brought on by the excessive amount of wounds I had contracted recently, it felt a little too easy how casually I was at the most divesting one that could very well slice my neck the moment she could have awoken.

["I still wouldn't be one to pressure karma, Partner. I did, and she is still pissed."]

I need not remind anyone of the feud between himself, which by default roped in myself also, and the [Chaos Karma Dragon]. But, I understood the predicament he was predicting. I will not be one that denies fear where it is justifiably a possible scenario.

I will just lay bare the details to a minimal; I removed her white t-shirt, . . . only while looking at the shirt or anywhere else above the neck, and swapped it out with my own with the most difficultly. I held my breath getting it through her arms

While I wasn't able to thank God without stockpiling ample amounts of pain for keeping her too exhausted to awaken while I struggled like this, I just thank the Maou that nobody had to see me do this in the closing light of the day.

I thought about pulling the covers over her, but knowing that time was of the essence, I counter proposed my options and just pulled the other side where she wasn't laying on across her like folding dough over a roll of chocolate, or a better description would be closing over a bun atop and below a hamburger patty.

'Now, all debts are fully cleared.'

I wasn't sure what debts I was referring to, after having gone lengthy into why her presence there had only been a major hindrance to my own safety. But, I felt I needed to justify myself. After all, a devil shouldn't and most definitely wouldn't be helping a human I wasn't contractually obliged to, let alone one of the church's underlings.

Because, as I recall, I walked away from my human life three years ago, and I promised to myself not look back.

I sighed with relief as I just moved the camera, after reaching to pick it up, back into the kitchen alongside the carrier bag with whatever was left of the silver shards and hilt excavated from the field of battle. I found great difficulty in placing the camera down whilst only handing by the cord tied to a corner. Despite its almost cube like shape, it was easier said an done lowering it to the table by your index and thumb whilst the thing spun and swung out of control, then almost temptingly tried to fall over one convenient side after another when you almost think you're through with it.

. . . Yes, even Ddraig called this 'the toughest battle of the entire night'. I wish I was joking about how he poked fun at how callous of a task it was. I couldn't even drown out his chuckles in my sleep.

After I had completed that tedious task, which I ended up just trying to ignore all together as I slumped the bag on to the table next to it less cautiously.

"As much as I would like to continue to widdle you down into confessing why she wants to skin us both, we need to get a move on."

["Hmm."]

"What is it?" I asked after Ddraig started making an unspeculative observation that caught me unaware.

["The injuries. They are . . . peculiar."]

I looked towards the cuts on her body at his insistence, but I was overlooking the obvious before I was even aware I had been missing it.

"Meaning? They're wounds, like you would get from any cut."

["That's the point; they were blades of light, and yet there is no burn affliction on any of these wounds. Just a cut from a blade. That's what I find peculiar."]

Having been the witness of my own wounds, there was a larger comparison to be sure, aside from the smoke that rose from my skin and blood burning when in direct contact; while light itself wasn't a plasmatic instrument within the same capacity as a stroke of fire or a bolt of electricity, when made into a weapon, it induces a concentrated layer of heat around itself, which results in many injuries becoming burns as well as cuts or gouges.

As I now suddenly found myself fixated to this apparent resistance to light burns, I realised that not a single one of these wounds have been even the slightest bit scorched. There were friction burns, yes. But nothing that appeared to have been caused by contact from an angel's luminous spear.

"You think it's something the church has come up with?"

It wasn't uncommon to hear of the church and their experimentation on their exorcists. Even recently, there had been reports on the human world where the church was formulating their own brands of performance enhancing elixirs and imbedding weapons with magic chants that, as I had caught notice of in the previous fight, would emulate a blade's fullest potential.

["I don't know. But, let's keep this to the back of our mind for now, Partner. We have another bug to squash."]

At first I was curious to what Ddraig meant, but then I was reminded of the crow's conversation from earlier. He mentioned another angel. Another fallen who was also supposedly on the attack today.

The problem was, I had completely forgotten his name at the time. Not too significant seeing as he was basically small fry c-.

Spoiler alert. Sorry.

If this fallen were to attack anywhere, it would be the school. I and no doubt that this was also where the other devils had gathered there, even if the first attack hadn't been in West Kuoh district. There was only one reason to even consider taking the fight to the school on a weekend;

Student council meeting.

I was aware that the Fukukaichou had managed to negotiate a new Evil Piece for her peerage in the form of a second Bishop. I wasn't so sure who Kusaka was, but I had a suspicious feeling that I may have seen her once or twice. Both of those occasions when I was with Yuuto. Need I say anymore?

As I made my preparations to leave before either the chief exorcist arrived home, or if the Maou forbid that the exorcist whose room I had invaded was to awaken to see a Longinus wielder standing in her kitchen, I was stopped . . . by a feeling.

A feeling passed over, similar to vertigo. But, it gone before it was even effective. Still, it shook me up very quickly, even in the layers of near indestructible metal coated in red.

"Hey! Did you feel that?"

It's difficult to really describe what it was like; neither visible, nor audible. Not a sound nor an image, but it was just this feeling that started crawling all over my body like a reverse cold chill that ended at the top of my spire rather than the bottom.

I can't explain better than I just felt it. Like some prefixed instinct inside me was suddenly detecting strong power. As a dragon, there was little that could be considered stronger unless the originator was of God or Satan-class power. I tried to the memory of Lord Sirzechs stare and compared it to the gut feeling that passed right over us.

It wasn't the same. Nowhere near the same terrifying shiver that froze my soul on sight. But, it felt close enough that I warranted it with worry.

["The signal?"]

Ddraig had no idea what might have been the source of that 'feeling' that shook the two of us, but he was more proficient in detecting the source of said 'feeling'. Well, considering that he had little to do now that he was a disembodied spirit attached to a red metal gauntlet as he had been for over two thousand years, you could imagine he had a lot of time to kill.

It was most likely not the signal, the one that the Sitri and Gremory peerages had worked on together to form in order to alert their respective Kings to come back. No. That had long since been sent. I never made mention on the notion that my own life was endangered at the time, but I do not need to recollect with anyone on how well that went.

But, as far as Ddraig could tell, the signal was in the same location, or within a certain radius.

"It's like it's calling us out. Wouldn't you agree?"

["Whoever it is, I do not think they would like to paint a bulls-eye on their locations if they knew the [Red Dragon Emperor] was in the area. This feels more like someone is deliberately trying to draw us in."]

A third party? It wouldn't be difficult that maybe someone else from the angel's faction was trying to draw another being to finish off the fallen's party after they were long wounded.

No. No, perish that thought. It may be ridiculous to have to remind myself, or even here a compliment from the devils towards the angels. But, angels were not willing to play dirty with a tactic like this. Not unwilling, I think ignorant would be the more appropriate wording here. They wouldn't know anything of trickery, nor would they likely use it if they were aware.

That commandment against lying is its own double-edge sword, when even deceiving your opponent warrants sin. Or, at least that's how they see it.

As I stepped outside, via the front door at first until I remembered I teleported in. And, that I was also still in full armour, which would definitely not be something I would want to flaunt to the neighbours of this place to see me leaving someone's home. Not the exorcists especially.

*Ahem*. . . As I teleported outside, more specifically to edge of the road where I had abandoned my shopping before engaging with . . . eh, Carnivayel, or something like that. He was not even worth remembering in name. I took back my bag and teleported that to my apartment without further delay as I pondered on our next moves.

["I guess"] Ddraig started to say, ["If there is someone out there who wants us to go knock off some stuck-up crow gnawing at his perch from his pedestal, which they happened to label for us. I think it best we live up to the expectation."]

Having been cooped up for so long, it made sense that Ddraig was ready to take any action that was handed to us on a silver platter. Even if it did turn out to be a trap, I'm sure it would have been more entertaining than sitting it out while he continued to rock himself silly with boredom behind emerald shaded lenses.

One crow had gotten my blood pumping, so I had no qualms with beating down another. I still had a bit of pent up anger I needed to vent.

"Precisely. Which means this Throwneyah guy that deadman mentioned is probably there right now. With any luck, we can get there before anyone dies."

["What will you do if the heirs of Gremory and Sitri arrived and you're still in full armour?"]

That was a very good question. The problem was, I had no idea how I was going to answer that at the time.

"Since they can't see my face. What would you say would make them suspicious it's me if they don't recognise my voice?"

I swear that if he had nostrils, he would have snorted. Not that I didn't understand his reasoning even after he had to deliver his opinions toward the matter.

["I hardly think you're talented enough to mask your mannerisms even if you were that skilled in manipulating your vocal chords. Don't forget that they are doing deals behind the human authorities' backs on a daily basis. I doubt you could lie your way out of a confrontation like that if they sniffed anything fishy."]

"What if" I said, cutting in before he had time to continue on with the obvious flaws in trying to mask my own voice, "it wasn't a voice or mannerism? They would have no choice but to withhold doubt. For example; what if the voice was truthful, but one they had never heard before?"

["How so?"]

I didn't look at him, or should I say the jewel in my left arm. I only needed to give him a slight tap to the bright green casing where his vision may or may not have been observing me from the entire time we had been comrades, in order to illustrate my point.

"My voice doesn't command the same authority a [Red Dragon Emperor] does."

I wondered as I turned my head to the sky if Ddraig was able to see the subtle smile under my visor where no one else was able to read my emotions. If the glint behind emerald tinted glasses was caught from his view behind his own emerald globe to my left hand as I reached it upwards to the coming sight of the moon.

"There is only one logical substitute. Isn't there, Partner?"

If there had been anytime I had seen Ddraig openly smile despite not having a mouth in which to bare his teeth. This, was one of those occasions that his fangs looked pleasingly menacing.

["Yes. I suppose there is."]

A stare off between the devils and the youkai continued. Four of us, including I, Himejima Akeno, and at least thrice a dozen youkai surrounding us from any possible chance of escape or attack. Not that we were thinking of doing the latter even if we were desperate.

I can't say much except that we were at a silent standoff. The youkai of Kyoto, led by the turquoise coloured kit-, huli jing with the verbal tick had the advantage on us in terms of numbers and leverage, but they were prevented from making a move.

Why? There was no reason.

Well, there was no initial reason. But, we were lucky to catch a break in the form of a little girl.

"Su~u! Where are you?"

As we were ready to taste their wrath, a small voice called out among the crowded streets. Though none of the humans could hear a sound other than their own self-absorption with the sights and the sounds of the city. That was not the same for supernatural presences that had gathered to this side alley from the busy, buzzing roads of the ancient city.

"Hime-hhian (-sama)!"

The Chinese youkai reacted, or more specifically her body stance reacted while her face remained relatively the same, turning around toward the direction where that voice had reached out from.

This little girl didn't look a day older ten years old. Maybe even eleven. She was a petite little thing with golden yellow hair with two fluffy fox ears poking out of the unruly parts of her hair. Covered in a very lovely and complimenting miko outfit that was lifted up at the back to accommodate a collection of nine small tails that waved and flutter in the wind like scarfs.

I wondered if there was a shop in this city selling these outfits out. I thought as I looked at how adorable she looked in it how I might like to try one on. Ufufu.

"Su. You promised you'd let me see the Manga Museum. You wouldn't take me last year. You said it was too busy. You promised mother you'd watch me so I could go!"

Kyoto International Manga Museum was only opened in the city as recently as November the previous year. If it hadn't been for the difficulty in obtaining the passes to enter the city in the first place, I think I would have found myself being dragged to the grand opening last year with my arm severely locked with Rias' arm.

The more you know, I guess. Ufufu.

"Hime-hhian. I apologise for being so rude shi. But, this is not the time for su-"

"You promised me, Su. You promised. You said we could go this year!"

Despite her expressions and voice never changing from dead neutral that only conveyed emotion by the positioning of her eyebrows, the tone of her face was starting to sweat under the pressure.

It appears that this little princess is enough to make even a terrifying ghost beast like a huli jing sweat. But, you can always wonder if there are other ways. Ufufu.

"You are, Princess Kunou?"

It was a daring move that Sona made, stepping forward and interrupting the two youkai in their exchange. It wasn't as if the hundred or so that had us surrounded didn't notice. They readied themselves to attack, but none of them dared to make the first move.

Of course they wouldn't. It wasn't as if the idea of war was an ideal situation for them as well, especially when it's the younger sister of the Maou who could twinkle and destroy this county twelve times over.

Grabbing the hems of her hakama to the point that her zori (sandals) and white tabi (socks) were now visible, she performed a light curtsey. It was slightly wrong in execution, with her left side being tugged higher than her right, and instead of lowering herself, she tilted slightly to her right.

But, her little fox ears poking from her golden hair twitched slightly and all those misgivings seemed to wash away. I even found myself trying to resist the urge to pet them.

"Uh-hm. I am the ninth heir to the Youkai of Kyoto and the Kansai provinces. My name is Kunou of the Ikkan Dynasty, daughter of Yasaka."

And now for the history lesson;

Ikkan (一冠) was the first monarch to unify the youkai of Kyoto under a single governing system. He also employed in a policy of maintaining equilibrium with the Japanese humans and onmyouji to stabilise the region. He had no sons, so the title after his time was finished was passed to his daughter, Nirin (二輪), and so the tradition goes on, whether the heir be male or female.

I don't know any more than that, except for a few names following, but where the previous head goes after serving their time as leader is unknown even among their own kind; some say they leave to join the Shinto in their slice of paradise, or one source claim they turn themselves to stone to wait for the end of the world.

I know which version I would prefer. To be bound in a rock hard shell. Unable to move. Unable to breath. And when I'm finally released only to set about writhing our enemies in pain and torment. Arara.

Vastly different than the leader of the Tokyo youkai does, but that's for another time.

Picking up the little turquoise fox in her arms like a stuffed animal, she held up our dutiful would be prosecutor in her hands like showing off a pet.

"And this, is Su-chan. Her name is Su Tachi, but I call her Su-chan."

"Hime-hhian. This is not the time. Please refrain from picking me up when we are apprehending criminals."

Her cheeks were so rosy that flowers could have budded underneath her fur. Though she refused to struggle, the uncomfortable ness of her fur and skin forming folds beneath her front legs was evident. Aagin, her voice refused to adapt in tone to her discomfort.

Following the young princess' introduction, our tenacious fukukaichou led our response.

"My name is Sona Sitri, heiress to the [Prince of Sitri]. And this is my friend Rias, heiress to the [Duke of Gremory]. Also behind us are our Queens, Shinra Tsubaki and Himejima Akeno. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Princess Kunou."

Ufufu. Sona never lets a chance like this slip her by. If this adorable child was indeed a member of the royal family of the Kyoto Youkai, then the opportunity was not going to be wasted to salvage this situation for us.

Even criminals caught red handed can still get away scot-free with the nicest of words. Arara.

Well, we all certainly took the advantage to our daring fukukaichou's brave step forwards, following her words with polite and respectful bows to the princess of youkai. It's not every day one gets to meet with ancient royalty such as this.

Especially in these situations. Ufufu.

"Himejima. Shinra. Two of the Five Principal Clans. Employed . . . by devils."

Even with her neutral voice and embarrassing position, Su-chan, ufufu, looked at both I and Tsubaki not as simple petty criminals anymore, but as homicidal murders. That death glare sent a tingle down my spine that stoked up euphoria.

The words she wanted to express was "youkai killers". An accurate assessment of both our family clans given their reputation of exorcizing evil spirits, which in a broad term included youkai species in that category also. I know I have done my fair share for a small profit even before I became Rias' Queen, and I assume Tsubaki has done a few in her time also before meeting Sona.

No. I couldn't get overexcited with the idea of turning them to dust as the writhe with agony. This needed to be handled peacefully.

"Hmm? They don't sound like bad people, Su-chan."

But, as it happens, their little princess was quite naïve for a nine year old. Easily believing the words of devils a little too easily. Tilting her head as she looked confused by her underling's detailed description with youthful ignorance.

"They are devils, Ohime-hhian. They are reputed for their cunning and silver tongues-shi."

". . . But, their tongues are pink, not silver. I think your Japanese is slipping, Su-chan."

Only now did the blueish green youkai wrestle herself from her princess' grip and dropped like a cat back to the floor.

"Ohime-hhian. I would exercise caution and allow us to rectify the situation. Also, may you please refrain from using that name when we're in the public's eye."

Aww. It was so cute how she tucked her tail between her legs. The drooping of her ears

"But Su-chan said I could call Su-chan that whenever I wanted."

If this was an anime, then Su-chan's eyes would have popped open. Upsetting her princess like that, how shameful. Arara. Watery eyes are the death of that kuudere posture she was no longer able to maintain.

"Ohime-hhian. Please, we must deal with the internal threat within our borders first-shi.

"Couldn't we just let them off with a warning and let them go?"

That twitch of her ears as she leant her had to her left, such an adorable child. If this wasn't an arrest I wouldn't be able to hold myself back.

Though, given that I must hold back Rias, who is practically drooling at the mouth. Ufufu.

"O-Ohime-hhian, you are truly too good hearted for this cruel world-shi."

Arara, is this the sign of a forbidden affection between a loyal first lieutenant toward her princess she swore to defend? Please let this be, O' Four Great Maou-samas.

Joking aside, she shook off her wild imaginations and returned back to her warden officer persona she tried to maintain. Poor little Su-chan, ufufu. It's a little too late to take back all that has happened.

"But, alas, this is one request that we your servants cannot abide by."

". . . B-But, Rory-kami said we should."

Su-chan stopped everything. All the youkai did, as we looked around with sudden confusion. Eyes darted darting around, with many of them looking at each other in confusion, losing all stoic disposition they once possessed.

"She did?"

Well, to say that none of us saw this development happen. Both our King's looked at each other in great confusion to what had started to unfold before us.

"Ro-Rory . . . -kami? Is that someone we should know?"

Sona shook her head to Rias' question before turning to us.

"Tsubaki? Akeno? Are either of you familiar with this deity"

Tsubaki was the first to reply. "That name doesn't ring a bell."

I followed shortly after. "I don't at all recognise it. Sorry."

Despite both of us as Queen being well versed in the lore, Rory was not a goddess that was familiar with us. But the amount of respect that she seemed to command was enough that these yokuai started looking uneasy about the situation now.

"Rory-kami said we can trust them. They're home is in danger and we need to let them go."

Acting as our unofficial solicitor, the princess worked her words on her subordinates. Her small words and simple construction of sentences was super effective when pitted against the turquoise petite fox with many tails.

"Kunou-himehhian. Is it true, does the Lady-zenhhian (kamisama) wishes to allow these devils to walk free despite violating our treaty shi?"

"Uh-hm; Rory-kami told mother that we must. Rory-kami wishes to allow them to save her home. I think that it is their home too. I wouldn't want them not to save their homes. And neither does Rory-kami, or mother. We should let them go."

Oh please, Su-chan, you should be grinding your teeth like that. If you do, you'll ruin that lovely smile of yours. Or, you deprive others to opportunity to make you do so later, ufufu.

Even while her sharp oral dentures were being levelled to bricks, she eventually couldn't withstand the wide eyes of the blonde haired kitsune princess looking back at her in a squatting position. The final knock out was probably the lengthy stroking up and down her body that seemed to destroy what left of her willpower there was.

"I-I-If it is the will of one of the zenhhian, and by order of our queen we withdraw and allow your departure from the city."

The various guardian youkai that had cut off our routes of escape no longer appeared around us, as one by one they started melting and turning away from the scene. Many of whom returned to the city in the walls and in the streets themselves like spirits of the very city.

The only ones left, were us four, Princess Kunou, her Su-chan, and a couple of tengu youkai who may have been her highness' guards.

"We are in your debt, Princess Kunou. Thank you for our release."

Rias knows her manners, but I am more surprised by how she managed to muster those words out after having to hold herself back from the whole kawaii mood that was blooming in the wake of this youkai epidemic in this area.

We all took a bow to express our thanks to the young princess, but her bodyguard's eyes didn't soften when looking at us. How cruel, arara.

"Wait. Even if we have released them, you should allow yourself to let your guard down around devils. Even if this time her majesty and the zenhhian allowed them to go free, they are still a dubious bunch."

"Then, may I make a suggestion?"

I had no idea what Sona was planning, but when she initialised her plans, we were all relatively shocked by the outcome.

"As collateral in case we should be lying, my friend Rias and her Queen will remain behind to insure our good behaviour while I and my Queen are away. I am sure that both parties will find this a suitable arrangement."

Rias was a child again, and only in the mental sense considering she was such a stiff in public even before she finally started maturing. Her eyes sparkled at the prospect of being escorted around the city by an entourage of Kyoto youkai was almost like ticking a notice from her wish list.

'I guess we get to go to the manga museum after all, Rias. Ufufu, with a royal escort and supervision no less.'

Su-chan was shocked but less than amused if that was how you interested her stone faced look, but a long excited look with wide eyes that shimmered defused that potential bomb shell from exploding. Even if said bombshell never looked any different.

And so, while Son and Tsubaki made their preparations to once again teleport back to rescue our kouhais, Rias and I ended our day with a tour guide in royal splendour. Certainly, one of the best field trips I had ever been on.

Our battle was over. Not in our favour though. We were all defeated and unable to continue, including I, Kiba Yuuto.

That closing afternoon was the worst experience in all of our lives, and I can verily say that with confidence; our bodies were beaten, burnt and mostly broken. Those who could still stand were wobbling on shaken stances, and the ones on the floor were in barely any condition to crawl.

I myself remembered the fatigue that was present. Over using my Sacred Gear had cost me dearly and the rewards were hardly worth reaping at my strength. I stayed to my feet not because I could. My ankle was likely broken and a light spear protruding through my other leg had lost to me my greatest asset as a Knight in service the Gremory family.

I do not say that my nature was forcing me to stand. No. Every instinct in my body had told me to run as far and away as possible after I started feeling the energy in my body dwindle to its lowest quarter. I had pushed the thought again and again until I was too far in to back away.

I stood, because I was one of the few that were still willing to hide the pain.

After so many hours in battle at our school, it was all too apparent that many of us were injured beyond measure, and even our healers were failing to accomplish their respective jobs on account of this energy sap.

On this field of battle, we were always at the disadvantage; the attack had caught us by surprise and we were largely unprepared. Our one hope had not come, and we were aware that it was a probability that we shouldn't have counted on to be immediately. But it hadn't come, and we had lost hope and our fighting spirits with it.

I can honestly say that had there been no intervention, we would have all died that day. Just as Nimura-san had.

That was a thought I found unbearable.

My precious comrades all dying together with me. Again.

"Can't say I had fun. No. You six have bored me for long enough."

That fallen, the one I no longer wished to continue calling Sakuyama, came out of this battle barely scratched nor beaten. All of our efforts proved little to naught against him. Worst was how little he thought of us.

The expression on his face, with his head leaning slightly to his right side; there was nothing but lowly contempt as if he could have simply stepped over us and wouldn't have batted an eye.

He summoned a spear to his hand, but there was no more dramatics or enthusiasm in his movements or his words. It was just as he called it; he was bored of us.

Raising it above his head like he was about to throw a javelin without much deliberation, he cocked his head to the dead body of Nimura-san before turning his nose up at the rest of us still alive in after this ordeal.

"With no more . . . nuisances to get in the way. Let's finish what I should have done. Without intrusions."

["I have every right to intrude!"]

Sakuyama lost grip of his spear as it seemed tip off balance from his arm and fall to the ground. It shattered, but the light didn't vanish. That was when we all noticed that the light was not his.

We looked up, and then we saw it; a glowing red star hanging above our heads.

Or so we initially assumed it was, when it started shooting straight downwards towards the ground.

"What the hell? What ar-"

*BU-KOOM*

Dust crashed everywhere, and the wind shot out in every direction away from the crash site. We who were barely able to crawl on the floor were covering our eyes and holding our grounds from the serious force that was pushing at us like the impact of two cars colliding head on.

As soon as our visions were clearer, the muddy smoke lingered longer than we had anticipated. And in that brownish fog, a green eye broke through, piercing the dust in an ominous stare.

["The last being who asked me that is a million pieces of dust. He had black wings and a disgusting face. Just. Like. Yours."]

There, standing there in the rising filthy mist was a tall figure in full armour. It was only after the dust settled that the blood red metal shine like a large ruby. The way the light rolled off of it, I swore that he was wearing a river of leaking arteries that intoxicated the air around him. Smoke and steam also seemed to escape him, like a fire was being stoke under the layers of metal blades.

It had large wings this armour, bat-like, but were almost as independent as arms, and sharp protruding edges that seemed to cut the very air encircling this emerging metal figure. It was humanoid in shape, and that was the least unsettling thing about it, but the image and the aura and the pressure that it exerted was larger than its initial form.

It was not an easy thing to describe; I had only every witnessed Buchou's older brother, Maou Sirzechs' exert pressure that seemed to greatly dwarf his more natural form. His was a Goliath that could have easily towered over the skyscrapers of Dubai themselves and crush them underfoot just as easily if he potentially unleashed all that power.

While this red being wasn't as big, the shape of it as it appeared was no man. Though humans would never had been able to perceive just how terrifying this figure standing before us was, we devils could. The monster that appeared in the gushing bloodied aura encasing him was a dragon. There was nothing more that could have described it.

The beast that appeared in the red mist was nothing less than a beast capable of destroying gods and the Maou alike. Even without a true visual on it, there was this presence of sharp blood lusting eyes staring right through you, and a set of viciously razor fangs that were filled with insatiable desire to tear into your flesh and stain its glands with the taste of fresh meat.

It was understandable just how terrified Sakuyama was when this red metal-mantled reaper cut himself right in the middle of the school grounds. His eyes lost all colour as his much of his face and hands. His spear was affected too, blinking on and out of existence like an old neon light that couldn't handle the poor connection between it and its source of power.

"Y-y-you've got to be kidding me?"

Sakuyama's wings had forgotten how to fly, as he tried to flap them whilst crawling away backward with both his eyes too afraid to turn from the red figure blasting hot air through the gaps. It didn't move any closer.

But it did not need to.

The green eyes of the dragon knight in red flashed for a brief moment, and then there were traces of jade smoke that glittered and sparked leaking all over the various jewels in his armour.

["The [Red Dragon Emperor] doesn't joke when it comes to killing those who dare make him angry. I, never joke about those I had slaughtered in the thousands across a hundred lifetimes."]

'The [Red Dragon . . . Emperor]?'

It was not a passing mention, but when that name was called out, I knew who this was; in the days of yore, there were many great and powerful dragons that dominated the worlds of men. Only two ever reached the rank of [Heavenly Dragon], both of whom were turned into two of the most powerful Sacred Gears ever created; {Boosted Gear} and {Divine Dividing}.

The [Red Dragon Emperor], this being standing before us, was the possessor of the {Boosted Gear}, one of the Longinus.

["I am the [Heavenly Dragon] who terrorized the [Four Great Satans] and God himself. I am the [Red Dragon of Domination], Y Ddraig Goch!"]

His green eyes turned on us. I will not deny the feeling of fear sweeping over us when those sharp pieces of jade started shining on us. He swung out his left arm toward us, before pointing his index finger in our direction.

["Devils of Gremory and Sitri! Listen well!"] He bellowed. Even his voice seemed to shake the air and earth he moved across. ["I have no qualms with you, nor your masters. Your friend from the Phenex clan is safe also, injured as he is."]

'Issei-kun . . . is fine?'

Injured though, which meant that he most definitely attacked as well tonight. I hoped that he was at the very least recovering before I concerned myself with what the [Red Dragon Emperor was doing next.

He was alive though. That brought me great relief.

I nearly fell to my knee knowing I no longer needed to stand, but I stayed on my feet with the weight of my comrades safety no longer on my shoulders. Even Yura-san and Meguri-san were finding the strength to hold themselves high again at the sight of this overwhelming aid.

Sakuyama tried to continue crawling away, but the [Red Dragon Emperor] was not done with him; he didn't rush, but he walked at a strong pace that the time between him reaching his prey to when he started walking were faster than any of us expected.

["Rats have no use for wings! You don't need to fly crawling around in the sewage all day."]

*Hhriiip!*

Bones and tendons snapped and ripped as the [Red Dragon Emperor} grabbed hold of both his wings, tugging at them until they were broken loose from the back of his spine. His voice rang out in pain, but no discernible words or cry was distinguishable as he flopped almost lifelessly to the floor.

No longer, could he be considered an angel. Wingless as he was, he looked very much inhuman only after losing his insignias of divinity. Although I should have felt disgusted by how he had been amputated like this, I was overcome by disdain for Sakuyama for all that he had put us through and all that we had endured.

But, most of all, for what he had done Nimura-san. I was not a vengeful person, but only his death could pay for hers.

His back was spurting blood like two little fountains that stained the back waist of his school trousers and the entirety of his white shirt, but even after having been clipped of flight, the {Red dragon Emperor didn't seemed satisfied, as we found out by the sudden building aura of green that increased around his left arm.

["{Boost!} {Boost!} {Boost!} {Boost!} {Boost!} {Boost!} {Boost!} {Boost!} {Boost!} {Boost!}"]

Grabbing Sakuyama by the collar, as the weight of his limp body dropped like a rag-doll beriffed of life, the green eyes of his helm flashed again, as did all the lights upon his body.

["This ought to be enough remove your existence from this earth! The last one was just overkill because he really dug under my claws!"]

There was no strength in his arms. Small drops of blood started forming into pools from the tips of his toes.

"P-p-please! Have mercy!"

Two small streams of steam wheeshed out of the helmet of the red suit of armour. There was a small uncomfortable shaking that rattle him, but it was over very quickly.

["I, who have killed Gods and Monster's for thousands of years. You expect that I would show you who is worth less than his own tongue mercy?"]

He placed his left hand across Sakuyama's chest.

["I will not make you wait any longer"]

["{Burst!}"]

There was no sound. Only a blinding light, before a small explosion detonated in the place where the energy was released. There were sounds of splatters and spills, but nothing could be seen in that blinding light.

For devils, this was torture in of itself, which meant that our eyes stung for a while after, and our visions took longer to return than a human's would have.

I wish there was much more that I could have described about the scene after my vision returned to its normal functions. But, there was nothing but the splatters of blood and skin scattered in every direction, and a pair of black wings still freshly bleeding. If looked close enough, there was also white granules that I assumed were chips and splinters of bone as well.

The [Red Dragon Emperor}, however, had vanished. Not a beat of his metal wings. A clang of his joints. The sounds and light must have been an excessive cover for his escape. That was what we deduced.

The only trace of his existence had been a crater dug into the school grounds with two three taloned metal boots engraved into the bedrock beneath the foundations. And of course, there was the haunting memory of his thick red aura as that of an intelligent god-slaying beast, and green eyes that pierced even the thickest smoke.

What not six devils, even inexperienced as we were, could do against a single fallen angel. He did; one Sacred Ge- one Longinus wielder had accomplished with the faintest of efforts like he had snapped a toothpick between his fingers without needing to his own blood to do so.

I looked behind me to my comrades, their expression in the mix. Some like Kusaka-san were still terrified after a long day of near death, while other like Yura-san and Meguri-san were just relived that we were no longer in danger.

A magic circle appeared a few leagues ahead of us to one of the exits of the school grounds. At first, I imagined that either Buchou or Fukukaichou had at last come to our aid, but I was wrong about that.

The circle that appeared was neither blue, nor red.

It was gold.

"Gaah!"

A boy, larger than my own self fell out head first, colliding his face against the floor. If this had been a gravel or concrete based grounds, then his head would have suffered worse than a simple friction burn. While we stood on guard, our defences dropped by the sight of a familiar brown hair.

And the Phenex simple branded to his left hand, visible only to our eyes.

"Issei!"

"""Hyoudou-san!"""

Issei fell shoulder first and rolled to his side as he reacted in pain. He choked a little as blood left his systems before I managed to hobble over to where he lay. Light trails of white steam was rolling off him like he had escaped a forest fire.

I hobbled over to him, as did Yura-san, but the time we took to reach him put strain not only on our own bodies that we expended the rest of our strength, but it was evident that Issei was now lying in a small puddle of red now even if it was soaking into the soil.

His eyes were shut, and his breath was alternating between his mouth, through his teeth, and once through his nose where he almost choked from something filling his throat. The rest of him looked just awful, but the idiot still smiled even if he was in serious pain.

"Sorry I didn't make it in time" he said, gritting his teeth as he tried to sit up. He almost got up, but then he looked like he would vomit and then stopped at around sixty degrees before reclining back slowly to around thirty.

"Your arm? Your legs? Your shoulders? Your torso?"

"This is nothing. Just flesh wounds, really."

Though he was putting up a brave smile, it was obvious by how volatile his wounds were that he was in serious pain.

His skin was seriously pale from the amount of blood he had lost. Devils had more blood to spare when it came to taking injuries, but even we could die from a lack of it in our systems. His skin was also seriously sweating and his body temperature was a crude imbalance of coldness and blistering heat.

Cuts and gouges still freshly smoking from either the light spears or his own dose of first aid with cauterizing. His clothes were near irreparable with the amount of holes and stains that were now deeply sown between the seams and fabrics.

In terms of injuries, while he was the luckiest to not have any injury greater than dislocation or broken bones, his wounds were more sever and would begin to become infected if they were not treated properly.

He tried to get up again, but then he slipped on his own hands as he rolled to his front. I tried to reach to him, as did Yura-san, but he pushed his hand out and forced himself to his hands and feet. His stomach gurgled, and he nearly feel forward if we didn't catch him. It wasn't exactly a catch, but he didn't land on his face again, so I will call it as such.

I rose to my feet, as I tried to crane Issei up with me. Lest to say his throbbing arms were heavier than I had anticipated, as was his inability to stand on his own thanks to the wounds in his legs and his arms preventing him being anymore mobile.

Not to mention how hot he was. Touching him felt like I was going to burn my skin of. Now even a fever could account for the heat by simple physical contact.

"Is anyone dead?"

We all fell to silence to his words. Perhaps it was that he was smiling like he had made a joke. But, because he had already looked around and saw us all, all the ones he knew of, still alive he had allowed himself to pull off this humour without realising how dark it was.

"W-What?"

He looked at me is disbelief as everyone's eyes either averted his look or took time to gaze at his with an expression of awkwardness rising in tensions around us. It was only when he looked around and looked again that his eyes finally noticed the lying body that had neither looked upon him or at any direction since he had arrived.

His jaw dropped a little, but he held himself from gawking at the sight of the empty hole in the middle of her torso.

"Nimura Ruruko. She was in my class. She was an idiot. She wasn't my friend, and yet she tried to save me. The moron."

Though Koneko's words were harsh, to say that they matched the expression of her face or the tone resonating through her voice was not at all accurate. Even after so long after she had passed and her body was now cold like the air, Koneko held close to her body like she was trying to keep her warm.

Well, nothing was going to keep her innards warm with a large gaping hole having already blown through her abdomen. Healing it now, even with how little our healer's reserves were now would be a wasteful endeavour. If nothing else, it would be insulting to cover up the wound that she took unto herself so that Koneko didn't instead.

Even if casualties had been kept to the bare minimum, there is always someone who pays the price in war. Especially those not directly involved.

It was in the gathering darkness, that at last our salvation came;

It was a Sitri teleportation circle, in bright and shining navy coloured light.

Out from the array of magic produced illumination was the Fukukaichou, and her Queen. Not in uniform, but clothes more appropriate for tourism for the day. Glasses were shaded. Tops where short sleeved or no sleeves at all. Shoes without socks or toes, and even small accessories for clipping their hair they would have barred themselves for attaching had they still been in school. If I may be completely honest, this was a first for many of us that, if not all, we had probably seen the two of them in much more relaxed manners of dress.

"I apologise to you all for being so late. There were too many complication that interfered in making our departure. I can see you are all tired and exhausted, as well as severely injured, so I will try to rectify this predicament as tidily and orderly as we can. Tsubaki, please attend to their wounds if you please."

"As you wish, Sona."

After a long day, I must confess that I was just so relieved that everything had ended that the appearance of the Sitri King and Queen was a welcomed sight indeed. With the fukukaichou's handling of the new steps, and Shinra-senpai filling in as the much required medic for the ones still with severe wounds, it was looking toward a good conclusion had it not been for the ones mistake we had allowed to happen.

"We will leave the restoration work until tomorrow. I think we can just be thankful tha-."

She stopped mid-sentence when she looked around to all of our faces. Even Shinra-senpai, who was diligently working her magic in restoring the immediate injuries neither of the Sitri Bishops had any strength left to fix, noticed how the mood had remained dreary as when she first arrived.

"We had one casualty" I explained, after Shinra-senpai finished work on Yura-san's legs and arms and had moved onto deal with the holes everywhere on Issei.

"Any of ours?"

It was then that our eyes, followed by her own and Shinra-senpai's drew unto the deceased girl on Koneko's lap.

"No" Hanakai-san continued, brushing aside a few locks of reddened white hair from her face. "There was a bystander caught up in the attack. But, she didn't make it."

"I see. Most unfortunate. And this is?"

Lady Sona walked over and knelt to Koneko, which was logical given her question related more to her as they were both still dressed in their matching middle school uniforms, even if one was more or less destroyed than the other.

"Nimura Ruruko. She's in Kuoh's Middle School division. Class 3-B. I don't why she was even here. But, she saved my life, at the cost of her own."

The words started to choke up my usually emotionless kouhai and fellow servant. It was not just her that had been upset over this, but there was no mistaking that this tragedy had hit her the hardest in all this.

For a moment, I swore that I saw her mouth the words 'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.'

Shinra-senpai had finished up with Issei's serious spear wounds, but he was still unable to stand on his own which I attempted to allow for him. He was still sickly pale and he appeared to have no more energy left in him that he was blacking in and out regularly.

Whatever happened in that fight with the fallen on his own battlefield, he must have expended more than he could have usually handled.

"I will make this right."

As Shinra-senpai began to work on my legs, my eyes turned to the Fukukaichou, who stood back up and placed out her left palm. A smaller teleportation circle erupted and then a box apparated into her hands.

A box of chess pieces. Her Evil Pieces.

The lid opened and inside were a selection of sapphire coloured pieces; one knight, one rook, and eight pawns. Her remaining pieces.

It was then that I started to piece together what the fukukaichou was planning. Having known from experience, it was obvious that she was going for a post-mortem reincarnation. I wasn't sure how far long a person who was deceased could be reincarnated, but apparently if the fukukaichou believed that there was chance, then she was going to do so.

Both Gasper and I had been near death by the time Buchou had found us, but we were still very much alive when the process had begun.

But I believed in what Lady Sona was planning. If she knew of a way to bring Nimura-san back to us, then it would be a most satisfying conclusion to this evening.

". . . H . . . h-Hey! W-what are you . . . doing?"

Despite being in a disorientated and nauseated state even after being fully patched up of his external injuries, it was Issei who voiced protest once he saw her pry her fingers for an aquamarine coloured Pawn piece. His face couldn't hold the correct expression with how much his conscience actually tied to the situation was unknown by how easily he looked to be slipping as I saw it from his right side.

"I can fix the school building. I can erase the memories, or even change them to better adjust to what has happened here today. But, I cannot bring a human back to life. Not unless I use this."

Presenting her pawn piece, like she was holding a jewel between her fingers, levelling it to her sights as if she was analysing it for monetary properties. My only guess was either she was looking it over in case she was handing over a mutation piece by looking into the thread of life imbued into the piece. But it was only my speculation.

Given how even at near death that Nimura-san had not displayed any usual string talents, it was by a . . . 'logical' point that a single pawn piece was the minimal requirement. Or if not, then there were always more that could have been added on top in stockpile.

"y- . . . y-You're going t-to turn her into a . . . devil?" Issei repied.

"I have little to no options."

"Bu-"

His cheeks swelled like he was about to lose his lunch or whatever he last ate before arriving here. His eyes shot wide for a single second, but then he seemed to lose the rest of his strength to stay awake as his weight started leaning more on me than it had done before. His breathing was still relatively stable for a seriously injured person, but there was partial wheezing in between each breath.

Yura-san ended up taking him home on the fukukaichou's orders by a simple nod. With all that he had been through today, I think he needed rest the most out of all of us. A magic circle appeared behind us as I let go of Issei into Yura-san's as she walked him to the blue teleportation pad and promptly vanished, presumably to his home.

Despite him being the only one to create verbal conflict, I could see by a few more faces that circled this area that perhaps his opinion wasn't as singular as it appeared. I cannot say with certainty if that was so, but our fukukaichou pressed her lenses to her eyes and ran down her reasons for this decision in any case.

"I have only two options here I can take, and both are evils I would rather not delve with; I must either take her on into my peerage as a devil. Or, we allow her to remain deceased, and give in to the natural state of mourning to follow for her parents, her peers, friends, other relatives. Out of two evils, I would think that everyone who cares for her would rather have her return to them on her own two feet than six feet under in a wooden casket."

It was a dark analogy, but it was as right as it was effective in its description of the most logic repercussions.

She held up her Pawn piece in such a way that it reminded me of folktales or anime where a prized jewel was being held up against the sun or the moon. However, in this darkness of twilight between the day and night, nether were visible, except for its luminous blue glow that illuminated her hand at the tips of her thumb, index and middle fingers.

"With this, I am taking responsibility for my actions."

"Sona-"

She raised her hand to stop Tsubaki from contradicting her statement.

"No. I believed before this incident that simply having a means of bringing myself here to re-assume order would have been enough. I had little to no other options in given circumstances, but I still chose an ill-suited contingency for this inevitable dilemma. I never took the youkai barrier in and around Kyoto into consideration as a difficult obstacle, nor did I overestimate the strength of the two fallen as I should have. This girl's life is on my hands. The very least I can do is give her a new one in compensation."

She looked as if she would take another step forward, but then her gaze looked across each and every one of us left present.

"Any further objections?"

In the end, there was none.

I didn't see the ritual take place as we were all made to return to our homes and recuperate for the night.

I pried Koneko from the arms of her then deceased classmate. I had expected more resistance by how string her grip was, but largely I couldn't quite adjust my mind-set to what was going on in my kouhai's head. After finally losing her grip she didn't wrestle herself to return but surrendered to me as I took her away to allow the fukukaichou to do what she needed.

I remember a very strong behind our heads blue light erupting that brought light to the darkening day. Just before stepping toward the magic circle to home with Koneko, I could hear the ritual take place;

"In the name of the Prince of Sitri, I command you. You, whose life was taken from you prematurely. I, whose responsibility it was to prevent this accepts the responsibilities of your demise and will take you on into my peerage. Arise again as a devil. And rejoice for the beginning of your new life!"

It put my heart at ease, knowing that even after all we had struggled to hold unto today, no one had permanently died. Even while the means of which we achieved it unsettled at least one of us, I was thankful for this miracle.

The day had at last come to an end.

We, had survived.

?

"Ho ho. It would appear that the plan has been foiled. But incompetent employers were going to get the axe sooner or later, I suppose. It just so happens I didn't need to lift a finger in that effort."

'What do you think He would say to your choices in accomplices?'

"That would depend on the definition; those three earthbound angels were never to have survived long. Even had the task I caressingly whispered with sugar-tipped truths been fulfilled, I doubt that the new Maous would have twiddled their thumbs for long before sending out the extermination corps for them seconds after the news reached them."

'And yet didn't happen.'

"No matter. They were barely pawns. Heck, I wouldn't have even considered them a part of the board nor the table. Dust mites, are all they were. Insignificant, and were just there without even really being seen by either players."

'He he he. Dust mites are worth more than those three easily. Still, a [Red Dragon Emperor] has awoken it would seem. And, sided with devils.'

"I know very well. That makes eleven accounted out of thirteen. But, now two firmly stacked against us. Or perhaps not. No matter."

'The Heroes have three.'

'The Magicians have one.'

{-Heaven one.-}

'Hell one.'

'Grigori three.'

{-Vampires one.-}

'One unclaimed.'

'And two undiscovered. But, the real question is will there be more to come?'

"If there is a war between god-level beings and Sacred Gear users from all sides, I would say yes. The probability of new Longinus emerging is most probable, though I doubt it will be worthwhile to think on that when the war inevitably comes."

'Every faction, making or breaking ties, and then a grand war before we start off the rapture. Excellent. Our goals will eventually reach their fruition.'

"Well, we mustn't waste the rest of this day. I wonder if our dear friends have made any progress. But, more importantly, our sword wielding friend needs to fill us in with his recruitment drives success."

{-Yes. How will a psychopath fit into our exclusive circle, I wonder?-}

"Very well, I should hope. So long as his ego doesn't control him, he will fit just like the other fingers in this large glov-, in this large gauntlet we are about to bring down upon this world. Come, let's return before his highness gets too itchy with impatience."

'Of course.'

'Yes. We must return to our Prince.'

{-And so it shall be. Let the chips fall, as they say.-}

Sunday at midday. The congregation had already even if there were only the three of us attending church service. Apart from Father Mertens and I, the [Christibe-] . . . *ahem* I,Hanna, we only had one other believer who came to Sunday service.

It may not have seen important, but in this town deprived of the Lord's blessing, it came as quite a surprise that week after week that there was at the very least one person who still wished to be received into the Kingdom of Heaven.

Mrs Takamiya was among the elderly, one of the eldest of her generation in fact. Her mother had been born here, while her father was an American soldier stationed in the region before choosing to settle down following the end of the Second World War. Her children and her grandchildren had moved into the Tokyo Metropolitan area for a better life, and only came to visit in July.

Overall, she was a very nice person, and it was pleasant to talk with, although she did often repeat herself over and over. I think her Christian name was 'Maria', after the virgin mother, but she tried to show me the spelling in kanji to spell it rather than in Latin letters.

She eventually went home after the service, and I was left alone in the makeshift chapel in the basement of our temporary base of operations. Clutching a photograph I had gotten printed the first thing the sun came up across the Pacific, I hesitated through all the morning to show it to Father Mertens.

But, after several minutes of waiting in silence while he sorted through his books and pages and reorganised the room, did the words suddenly leave my mouth.

"Father, forgive me for I have sinned."

He stopped with his organising and dusting of the bookshelves behind the altar, but his head didn't turn. He just stared to his volumes and leather bound epics before setting down his duster and cloth on the lowest shelf within his reach without prostrating himself from his usual height.

"Sinned. Now there's a word I never thought I would from you. Speak, my child. You are in the house of the Lord, and the Lord knoweth all and will forgive his children."

"I-. Well, you see . . ."

I hesitated. The words wouldn't seem to come out. Even speaking in German, which the Father by the grace of the angels was quite fluent in and comfortable to commune with me in, there was no words that I could use to describe this new found confliction printed in paper and ink.

A picture of the [Red Dragon Emperor]. Why did it pain me so to show reluctance even before the Father, my superior? One little detail on it that caught me out when I first glanced on it. That was all, and now my tongue refused to cooperate with me.

"My child, no need to hold back. Tell me what troubles you.

Was it a sense of owing that I held myself back? Why my subconscious was deliberately stopping me without my knowing? Despite the Father's

"What should I do, if I had evidence that could prove that . . . we may have too little information about the devils residing here?"

"And what evidence would that be?"

My grip wouldn't release, but I managed to instead throw my arm out toward him, and present the photo rather than hand it over. I flicked my wrist around to his vision while he leaned in after adjusting his glasses for viewing the finer details in the evidence I had brought him.

But, I expected his eyes to widen at the sight. Just, not how speechless he seemed when he looked upon the giant in red metal dragon-like armour.

His voice seemed . . . distant, in his response. Like he wasn't looking upon a new idea, but a glance upon something he had perhaps long forgotten. Or had simply pushed aside many years ago.

"The [Red Dragon Emperor]. How long has it been?"

"F-Father?"

I started to pull my hands back, but I was shocked as he caught then, with his palms smoothing them on top as his eyes fell level to mine. He looked deep into me, and asked me a simple question to the photo's origins.

"When did you get this?"

My eyes blinked rapidly.

"I-I-I'm unsure. I was unconscious when this was taken."

Hi eyes remained locked for a little while, but he found no lie in my words and exhaled while finally looking away from me, to my relief.

"Hmm. Not even heaven had been able to find a [Red Dragon Emperor] in such a manner. Not since the last one."

My ears pricked up as he started rising again while I remained stunned and seated. "The last one?"

Looking down at me from his height, his usual smile was gone but he was not angry. He looked, well, worried or taken aback when he resumed speaking.

"He died, or a better description would be slain, sixteen or so years ago. It was before you were born I believe." He pondered a minute but then nodded. "Yes, I was a younger man then, but I will never forget that day. That day when we cast him down and destroyed him on the banks of the Rhine."

The previous [Red Dragon Emperor], who died sixteen years ago? That would make sense if the last one died that his successor would have to be that age as well. I didn't understand everything there was, but the logic in the creation of sacred gears was that every generation of humans would have the chance to be blessed with a tool to defend them from the creatures of evil, even if they held no faith in the Lord knowingly.

But, wait; human? No, the current wielder is a devil. That makes no sense why a devil would even be allowed to touch one of God's holy creations without burning up to smoke and ashes.

There were now so many new questions arising in my mind; did they find a way to beat the system? Surely not. Was it even possible? I could have asked myself so many questions, but I was concerned more about what the Father was speaking of.

His previous experience. He had said that he had at the very least fought against him. I realised then just how little I really knew of father Mertens, except that he was once a wielder of the Holy Sword Ascalon, the prized sword of Saint George bestowed unto him by the Lord God himself in person, and that he was experienced in his field. That was all the truth I knew, and it was deplorable.

"Was he one of them . . . a-a devil, as well?"

He shook his head. "No. He was a man. The power of God's artifacts are either a gift or a curse depending on whoever so wields them. You were lucky to have been spared by this one, maybe even rescued."

A man? That still didn't answer my questions, but as it turned out there was a lot of items on the agenda that I had apparently been ignorant of.

He returned to the altar and stood behind it, but no book was to be read as he gripped the sides of the wood resting on the wooden eagles shoulders as if the bible itself was resting within his fingertips' reach.

"Charles LaMont. The [Red Dragon Emperor] of sixteen years prior. I remember him well. I met him once before when I was a simple vicar in my hometown on the outskirts of Antwerp. Before I knew he was the [Red Dragon Emperor], he came to the church I resided over once, asking, questioning my beliefs.

He was a younger man then, barely even a man I should say. At the time, I had thought him to be the most irritable person I had ever met. His constant badgering about how morality had existed before God and that God was not necessary for man to take fate into their own hands. It was probably the first time I had ever truly hated speaking with someone about the subject of faith. More than any devil I had killed before.

I shook him off as easily as I held the belief that Saul had been temporarily blinded by the brilliant revelations of Jesus Christ. He pointed out the blindness in my faith, and as much as I still loathe the memory of that man, the man who he would become as well, I am grateful for the wake-up call from a certain point of view."

"What happened?" I asked, now leaning toward the Father rather than leaning away as I became invested in his story. "Were you not able to sway him to see the truth? Did you at least make him take back his words? Did you even see him again?"

"Yes" he nodded again, "right before he died, I met him on the battlefield. The church labelled him a demon, a true blasphemer and heretic. Enough words to place a religious wide bounty on his head. His own fault, not ours;

He wouldn't let go of his antitheism, even just to be civil with those regardless of what faith they held to. It wasn't atheism that stirred up a monster inside him. No doubt I believe that his own pride and stubbornness resulted in him attempting to take on the role of Lucifer and, I suspect, he would have tried to storm the pearly gates if he could."

He sighed and took a brief pause as he rubbed his eyes. His face appeared wetter than it was when he first started. Mourning comrades, perhaps? Deaths of innocents at the hands of a red armoured demon?

"He spent two years at war with the churches across Europe. Especially over the lowlands. Such times of terror. He tried turning us against our misguided brethren by attacking the Catholics for two weeks, which riled them up into thinking he had been allied with the Protestants, and then vice versa, before he attempted to wipe both forces out. Messy business across the Channel. Even stirred up a feud in the former Yugoslavia just to create anarchy."

"How did they kill him?" I asked him impatiently. Though I was invested in the story, I had lost the want to hear development when I could very easily picture the sort of heretic the previous [Red Dragon Emperor] was without the pages of history dedicated to his infamous exploits.

"The sacred gear he possessed, was not like the small miracles bestowed onto a special few. The Holy Maiden of Chiesa di Sant'Andrea's {Twilight Healing} is a small miracle. His, was not a miracle, but a cataclysm. A weapon that threatened the very life and love of the Lord and all of the Heavens with him. The only thing that could stop a powerful weapon, was an even more powerful weapon.

However, there was a young exorcist who was brought to us that day; Dulio Gesualdo. He was barely an infant when his Sacred Gear awoke. The second strongest Scared Gear in recorded histories."

"{Zenith Tempest}."

I knew very well of the current holder of the title of [Strongest Exorcist]. It was a goal I sought to take myself. More than that, it felt like a birth right I needed to reclaim, after the title had once belonged to my great-great grandfather, and his son afterwards also.

He nodded. "Even at such a young age, the power he wielded was so revered that when he called the heavens to strike him down, they did so with thunderous fury. Tempered by his strong emotions towards the [Red Dragon Emperor's] plight, the storms struck and he came crashing down. Even if he was the possessor of a [Heavenly Dragon], he was still a mortal man. That barrage of lightning burn through his body, and not even his brief activation of [Juggernaut Drive] could save his soul from the righteous hand of God."

*Slam*

A couple of books fell from the table after the father accidentally learnt his elbow too close as they tumbled over the edge and hit the floor. The loud noise startled me, yes, but not so much that I would say I was frightened by it.

He reached down and retrieved them from the cold concrete floor, but continued to speak as if the event had not occurred.

"It was quite a sight. A sad sight, watching one with wings fall from the heavens as he did. I pictured how it must have looked when God cast the devils to Hell and below. The powerful descending from his grace and to the realm of mortal men."

He neatened the pile of three volumes in his hands by levelling them against the table. His eyes no longer looked toward me, but to the covers in his grasp, as he walked to the bookshelf to place them back to their right places with the other literatures.

His voice seemed to lose vitality like his words were starting to choke him.

"I remember walking up to the body. It was still in red armour, but it was in pieces. He was in pieces. But he was still alive. Still breathing. He had doubled himself up by so much strength that even in a state where he shouldn't have survived, his mind was still working. He was dying, but was awake for the whole ordeal."

He stopped putting the last book away, and then he sighed after taking ten seconds to find his thoughts before sliding it into its place. His head remained facing his bibliography collection in front of him.

"Do you know, what he said to me, when he laid eyes upon me?"

I, of course, shook my head, but it was a rhetorical question regardless of how I had responded to it. Even I he was even looking in my direction to see my non-verbal response.

"He asked me 'where is God? Is he missing?' His words spitting out in red as his lungs expelled fluid that was leaking through. I looked at his broken form, and I told him . . ."

I saw his hand reach for his face again. To his eyes I suspected by how filled his nose now sounded.

"I told him the truth. I said 'I don't know'. And he just smiled. He smiled from the moment I answered his question, right until I struck Ascalon through his chest and the light died in his eyes. The last I saw of him was the armour shattering into the tiniest shards before they twinkled and faded away. Leaving behind a naked man. What was left of a naked man? Bare as the day he was born, and a destroyed form that was without arms of any kind."

He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. I heard a sniffle as he turned around, looking toward his desk, like he was refusing to meet my eyes.

"Dulio never forgave himself after that. When he found the corpse charred and broken, but still bearing the form of man, it was too much him at such an innocent age. He saw what horrors his Sacred Gear could do. He saw how he could kill a man.

The kept telling him not to more the faithless, and that he was a true demon, but what he saw was now a scar on his psyche. Gone was the boy, and the man that stood in his place was a little less than five years of age. The [Strongest Exorcist] of our era, was forged in the sight of the fall of a mortal man, and what common men were able to accomplish when they could not feel the love of God."

His hankerchieff returned to his pocket, and a little finger worked into his left eye to clear it of whatever was irritating him there. I had almost started to bite the ends of my right thumb as I got invested in the story, and it troubled me how shaken I was.

I had defeated the enemies of the church, the creatures thriving in the darkness, since the day the church put a blade in my hand and said I must fight. I cannot count the numbers I have killed, because I never thought that numerical were even a figure to consider when it came to the inhumans.

"Sixteen years" he repeated, as my sights returned to him wiping his glasses. "When I think how long that was, I never forgot that feeling. In the end, I mean. I pitied him. I pitied the damned soul. I cannot say why, but God came unto me and all I could feel for the fallen man was pity. I never asked him why he would do such a thing. I never got the time, or took the time to ask.

And before I knew it, it was too late for questions. I will never know now. I regret that. Deep down, I know; I failed in my duty as a guide to the words of God. Rather than exercise patience, I cast him down like a monster, and the monster is what he became."

I heard his teeth chatter a little, only three times, but then his shook his head a little and moved his posture around and now his eyes were focused back on me. One of his hands brushed over his collection of written words.

"After that, I took my focus to studying more. I learnt how very different we all were, us of the Abrahamic faiths, and what was driving us for our beliefs that our interpretation was the correct one."

He walked around his desk, tapping the wooden surface four times in rhythm, as he had seen on television, some British sci-fi program that had finished airing during the summer. I never saw, but the Father had been a fan since its first run in the early sixties. Whether this was of any relevance was most likely not, but something he was doing to occupy his hands while he thought on to his next words.

"I came to a conclusion; we are different and numerous, and no matter which view is the right one, we are all simply exercising our free will as the Lord intended."

He leaned back against his desk and held his finger up.

"A good man is deserving of forgiveness, and a bad man will receive his comeuppance. It is that simple. I believe in that kind of just God."

"What if you are the one who is wrong?"

The words just slipped my mouth. I felt rather embarrassed having said that, but my words had already been made known and couldn't be taken back.

He rubbed down his nose with his right hand with his index finger and thumb. "Then I'll pay for my mistakes in oblivion. However, I do not believe our God is a cruel god to simply punishing a man for believing the best in his name without at least listening to his ideals."

"But do you think-"

I stopped. Deep down, I was questioning whether this story had any meaning. Was the Father trying to tell me something, or was this just a chance for reminiscence.

I believed in the father and that he was my guide to improving myself by enriching my person with his experience, so I needed to decipher the message he was trying to teach me. His own tale of his encounter with the previous [Red Dragon Emperor], was it a reflection of my own encounter?

But, my generation's was not a man. I couldn't even say for absolutely certainty at the time if he was a monster either. This was big news and the church needed to know that the denizens of hell had gotten their claws on. Why was he making this so much more difficult that it should have been? I didn't understand at all at the time.

"Will we have to tell headquarters?"

He sighed, and then stood up as he walked back over the altar across the way from the benches.

"But of course. The sighting of the [Red Dragon Emperor] is imperative to our information network. To withhold it would be as Peter had done unto Jesus Christ, our saviour, and pretend we knew not of him. That, we simply cannot do."

He fiddled with a few of the books on the shelf behind and around that he kept. Apart from the bible, I knew that the Father had an extensive collection of books by many who had researched the occult. While they were unsavoury tokens the church would rather cast into a bonfire of literature, their usefulness outweighed the need to destroy them.

The Lemegeton, or the Lesser Keys of Solomon, was one such book I knew was on that shelf. A book that identified the seventy nobles of the devil's faction, traits, appearances and how large their armies were supposedly. Though the book was grossly outdated, it was the best source we had on the peerage that existed below the Earth.

Apart from that, many books penned by exorcists were on that shelf; Alphonso de Spina, Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa, Sebastien Michaelis, to name a few. And of course, his prized gospels. Gnostic works. The books rejected when the bible was pieced together from the various sects that had been worshiping in secret.

The Gnostic books with their green leather covers were fiddled through, but it wasn't the book he was looking for. Neither the occult books bound in blue, nor the texts collected in black, not that I knew what general category they belonged to.

"However" he continued, "confirmation of our facts that would delay our reports. So, I do suggest that we assert that our reports are accurate and not merely written on assumptions alone based on one photograph."

He then stopped talking a while as he plucked out the book he was looking for. He turned and in his hands he held a red leather book bound with the Roman numeral 'I' inscribed on it in gold, and the title "Divina Commedia" (The Divine Comedy) above it. 'Dante's Inferno.'

"For like Judas Iscariot who is reviled as a traitor and cast into the third mouth of Satan in the innermost circle of the Inferno, perhaps we are only hearing one side of the story with only one ear. Perhaps to punish one who we misjudge by hearing only how others speak of him is uncivilised and a stain to the name of the church?"

Despite my injured hip and the other injuries that were hindering my movements from peak condition, I wanted to shoot to my feet in protest.

"What you're suggesting is blasphemy, Father."

His eyebrows were the only things to move, but he didn't appear surprised, but curious.

"And yet, our Lord did send his only son to die for our sins, did he not?"

His spare hand reached into the green leather section, but I was aware of which book he was looking for; The Gospel according to Judas. The church officially didn't recognise it as a legitimate text, nor even that it did exist in its fragmented remains, supposedly. Its condition wasn't even the best according to what Father Mertens shared,

"I do not recommend delving too deeply into the temptations of the Gnostic texts. But, as I am always teaching you, expand your thinking just a little more each day. It is the gift of free will that the Lord hath bestowed upon us all."

He put the books down upon his desk and started to walk around the altar. I though he was coming back towards me, but he walked right past the first row and continued his departure down the aisle. I saw him about to ascend, when he stopped the moment his hand reached the bannister.

"Matthew 7:7, 'Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you'."

As he left for the stair leading back into the house, my knees gave out and I sat back into the front row. Was he asking me not to be hasty or was it merely to ask questions? Either one of these answers would mean that he was saying I was to delay sending the information. Was that it? Was that the entire point of his story; patience?

He mentioned not showing the same patience when the previous [Red Dragon Emperor] came to him with questions, but he was not given any and so the story ends with his demise. Was he making efforts to teach me temperance as well as patience, or was this his way trying to heal his own wounded soul by using my own situation as a proxy.

The only one who would be able to answer these questions was him.

Not the Father. The devil of the Phenex.

My only link to the current [Red Dragon Emperor].

Over the weekend, even whilst having to make a plausible excuse for vanishing in the middle of the cultural capital of Japan despite really being many miles away back in Kuoh, I Sona Sitri, worked to fix up the mess caused by the fallen angel's attack in our joint territory.

The report was the easiest part; from the accounts drafted by each of our servants, it was easy to paint a picture of a couple of rogues looking to restart the war. There was no telling if this was all a ploy set up by Azazel, but it was better that this was kept from escalating to war, even if we had to blind ourselves purposely to continue living in this peace.

Even if it was unlikely that the two of them, the supposed Throneyah and Caraviel whose remains weren't even available to properly analyse or allow for proper identification, to have been working under orders; it was far more likely to have been independent work given the small excursion.

There was rumours of a third body found, however the church had already moved to claim it meant there was no chance that would learn of any of it for many years.

On the benefits that came from the intrusion by the youkai faction was that it appeared we had a secret benefactor who gave us a free pass to return home to alter the course of this 'could-have-been' crisis.

Whomever 'Rory-sama' was to the little princess and her regal mother, she held a significant prestige if her words alone were able to sway a decision that otherwise would not have been pacified without our execution for damnable crimes against the agreements made between our factions.

The obvious pedigree required to make such a potentially catastrophic request was near celestial, which meant that this Lady must be on par with a goddess at the very least. While the Youkai and Shinto were two different factions, and ones that had historically been at war in the past with many heroes of the Shinto gods slaying some of the most terrifying warriors deemed as monsters, it was well known that their mutual cooperation had been on friendlier terms since the reunification of the state during the Sengoku period.

Though this was only a feeling expressed by a majority according to the histories. Rogues were the same as in any faction, and strays were also common to find everywhere you looked.

I drew many red strings that brought me back to Kuoh, and more specifically to the island of Oyashi itself. The benefactor who ensured our release had connections to this place if they were putting so much trust in us and our ability to pacify the situation here. That could only mean she was a local deity, if she was

Only one name came up that was remotely similar to the name the nine year old kitsune princess gave us to work with;

Irori. The kami of the hearth.

A local deity, with a name that seemed to be attached to a great many things in this town alone, even the newest of nine districts was named after her supposed birthplace to the south west. Rias' Queen had made use of her abandoned shrine in Old Kuoh as a home abroad, and would likely serve as her residence for the entirety of Rias' governance of this region persisted.

Rias didn't at all mind having to stay behind. On the contrary; she was given as gilded tour of the manga museum courtesy of Kyoto's Queen per benefits as a plus one when travelling with the city's princess. I would like to say that I was not jealous, but I was more concerned with so much close and personal time had been wasted with a tour that could have been enriched in conversation. But, perhaps it was for the best.

There were few literature on the legends of the kami on this island, mostly oral, but from the research I was collectively gathering since two days before, most of which portray a benevolent deity. Two pictures of similar make with a comparative black hair in one and a violet white in another that has been decided as being washed out over the years.

The story that drew me in, was a tale about her calling the allies of Oyashi Gokutaro to the battlefield when he found himself ambushed at the Daisen Strait. Supposedly creating a land bridge to bring them from the Oyashi Island to the main land of Yamato in time to win the battle. Though, a conflciing account says it was a bridge of ships that the army charged across, but the divine intervention in present regardless of which story you read.

It was this Irori who most likely also with great fates brought the [Red Dragon Emperor] to rescue our peerages from near destruction at the hands of a single fallen. While I believe that the Longinus wielder was acting out of self-interest, it was rather unlikely they would choose to attack a fallen and spare our peerages without some form of guidance, which is where our mysterious goddess plays her hand conveniently well.

Hmm. Maybe too convenient, but then again I must conceded that as a devil, the ideals held behind the potential of 'Deus ex Machina' eludes myself easily.

But regardless of whether it was true that a goddess had played out her hand in saving all of our lives, the secret arrival of the Longinus wielder had been on my mind just a frequently. Even if it was Irori calling him to our aid, the account from our servants do not allow my thoughts to make sense of his intensions.

Since the death of the previous [Red Dragon Emperor] was recorded nearly seventeen years ago, this was the first definitive sighting of his successor. The most logical idea was that he was local, not to this island, but just to this region in a broad sense. A native of Japan. However, surely there would have been many people who would have sensed his power a great many miles away if he was local.

I was certain that either one of us would have been able to sense such power, or at the very least another faction would have come to claim him. Or, perhaps announce that they have destroyed him years ago.

'Who are you, [Red Dragon Emperor]?'

I had further suspicions. But, I would keep them to myself. At least, until I had the evidence to support my ideas.

The following Monday after the incident. School resumed as normal despite what had happened to everyone. Including I, Hyoudou Issei.

"Nimura-san appears to be adjusting well. Even if it did cost her life to reach this state, I think she will be ok from now on."

To my left, it was Yuuto was keeping me updated on the situation with the newest addition to the Sitri peerage. Despite having been there by pure accidental means, Nimura had inevitable got herself caught up in our world's most easily fractured armistice, and paid the price for it with her own life.

Though the resurrection had been successful, and she had adjusted abnormally quickly to the fact that she was no longer human, there was other factors that still hadn't been considered. Still, it remained unclear to all of us how such a large event had been so easily swept aside despite the commotion that had come of it.

The Fukukaichou and her entire peerage had fabricated an easily plausible story about a student who turned terrorist upon the school, which resulted in damage and injury to many people who were present on the day.

Thank the Maou she also had the foresight to keep the media off our backs with interviews by falsifying a police report that purposely hid our identities. And, the added incentive of a simple favour to a certain, but I wasn't not allowed to speak of that any further. Nor whom among us secured the deal.

No one was able to question the logic in bombing a school on a Saturday, but an underachieving student who was supposedly one of the top in his year with what appeared to be a collection of fanatical radicalisation links on a computer as well as war propagating imagery pasted across the walls in the location he had been residing in for the past six months.

I do not need to confirm nor deny the existence of such 'evidence'. All that anyone would remember was the Kuoh Academy bombing of October 2007 by one Sakuyama Daiki. And, nothing more. As uncommon as it was in Japan, it was plausible enough to be a fact.

The injuries we all endured were still visible everywhere, and given our ability to heal. However, for the sake of the injuries that we couldn't simply fix in a single day due to conserving many depleted demonic magic reserves, it was up bandages and a couple of casts to hold cover.

The magic we managed to save by only fixing the irreparable on Sunday also provided decent evidence of an attack on the school thanks to the fallen's excessiveness for creating explosions.

We already had the alibi to our injuries, and yet the Fukukaichou insisted that we all were still able to continue attending school.

I came in covered in bandages from head to toe, a neck brace and several plasters over my face and hands to cover the scratches and burns. Yuuto was with a cast over his right leg and a slight for his left arm along with the bandages.

It's very much the same for all the girls who were caught up in the attack, but it would be rude to continue going into detail. But, from what little damage I had seen from Momo who was only covered in a few plasters on her temple and cheeks, there were some more minor than others.

"I'm sorry."

I held my head low. My face wasn't pressed into the desk, but I was almost burying them in my crossed arms laid out in front of me. Despite aiming my voice at Yuuto, I didn't look straight at him when I said it so it took him time before he realised it was him I was talking to.

"For what, the outburst? All behind us. I hardly think you need to apologise to me about this. How are your shoulders doing?"

I was tempted to show my limited manoeuvrability by swivelling my shoulders, but then I remembered how painful it was doing so. Even sleeping on them was enough to awaken the hounds of the Naberios clan.

I lightly tapped the bandaging, gritting my teeth a little and flinching my hand before I performed the act a second time.

"Sting. Your face?"

"I'll be better in a few days. Just have to keep the bandages on a little longer. And do I need to ask on the subject to the other wounds?"

"They ache. I feel stiff, and it is really annoying to move around."

"I would have thought you would have had an emergency vial of {Phoenix Tears} on you somewhere in your apartment at least. You must have been given a bunch of those things as a leaving gift, right?"

I formed a left cheek pulling smile that closed up my left eye with a half formed grin. It wasn't a fully formed truthful expression, but it was better than trying to pull off a lie with a drooping long face to support it.

"It only closes wounds; fatigue, blood loss, internal regeneration and everything related can't be so easily fixed with ingesting a drop of saline fluid. Plus, you think I could afford one on my wages? They're not exactly cheap you know."

I had made a joke out of the conversation, but the real truth was that; yes, I did have one. One. I chose not to take anymore, but Lady Ravel had insisted that I have at least one on me for safe keepings.

I had used it previously, the first of a few times when I was thirteen; it had been the same day I stranded myself at home. My old home. The stray devil attacked me and I ended up with a dislocated left shoulder and injuries to my whole body. It was more than just magic, it was a demonic miracle in a small glass vial.

I had spoken previously about that taste. So welcoming. And the success of its treatment is so well documented and displayed that the price for one of those 10 ml vials could buy out an entire County's worth of land whether it was plentiful or not. Only in wartime did martial law implement a price reduction, for the good and preservation of devilkind.

But, I learned the horrible truth behind its creation the day after Lady Ravel turned thirteen years. The day after I had been officially traded unto her care.

I remember her being brought to a similar room where we had incited my reincarnation ritual. Her father, Lord Rivalen lead on, while I followed her in tow. Her brother, all three of them were there to witness, as well as her paternal grandfather, the former [Marquis of Phenex], Lord Azuklon.

There wasn't much to describe Lord Azuklon, except that he was very much an older and more aged clone of his successor. He wore a hood, which meant his face was barely visible, but his form was more arched as a repercussion of the toll taken to his body after many years of ruling as Lord. His most prominent feature was his missing left hand that had been taken from his in its entirety to the bon by the angel Aniel.

Though he had lost a hand, Aniel had lost his life essence as a result with tangling with the former lord, so the trade-off had been a fair one.

Standing in the centre of this large carved circle, engraved with the symbol of the Phenex clan, bearing in her hands the sacred cup made of iron pyrite where the tears would fall from her face and into its basin. The cup itself was not integral to the creation of the tears, however the symbolic touch was a reinforcement of the bearings to the process of creating these miraculous elixirs;

The golden colour was synonymous to the golden yellow unique to the Phenex clan, reflecting their closed family magic {Regeneration} as the only viable source in which to replicate this formulae. The alloy of iron was a symbol of strength, where iron is bonded to other metals to transform a string metal on its own into an even stronger alloy, and the sulfur with its highly combustible properties reflected the clan's natural affinity to fire.

But perhaps the most symbolic of this metal was in its other more common moniker as "Fool's gold"; the tears themselves were a king's treasure to all other clans and users of its properties. But to the Phenex family who bore the ability of {Regeneration}, it was completely worthless in their eyes. Where other devils saw ruby shaded diamonds, the Phenex clan saw a colourless gem that might as well be a shard of glass for all it was worth.

I do not remember the exact words that were said in that room, and I was also sworn into secrecy to preserve the recipe in their creation process. I didn't realise the purpose of my being here when this was never going to be a technique I could ever hope of learning. That was until I bore witness to the real workings with the ritual; the process of forcing the tear from the host.

A pain with no visible marks that will not show any permanent scars. The wound to seal the tear with a small dosage of {Regeneration} required it to be an emotional one. A dagger on the soul to force the eyes to lacrimate, and then it falls and bounces into the cup where it settles until it is moved into a glass cage and corked atop to prevent its escape.

Cold, emotionless tears. That was the secret of {Phenex Tears}. You create pain to shed a tear, but the tear itself is void of anything that holds any meaning or sentimental value. It wasn't like a crocodile tear, which was a selfish liquidation wielded like a guilty weapon, but an empty drop of water that was not meant to reflect its indiscriminate nature.

The reason for this was simple; a tear shed for someone, a specific someone, would only work to heal them alone. If her tears had been drawn to the thoughts of a single person, the tear would be a useless swivel of salinised water, and it would then lose any potential worth it had if there had been a buyer for it. It simply wouldn't heal them. Which meant that for these tears to be a universal and unbiased product, its source of emotional strife must belong to no one.

Whether I wished to attribute the feeling of my own soul being ripped and stabbed as a repercussion of our souls being eternally tied by the evil pieces she had connected the two of us with only a day before this event. I think this was maybe why I had been brought to witness her first ritual as well. The pain that was rife in this dungeon was real. Had I not been present, then this viper ensnaring my and hemo-intoxicating my innards with its poisoned fangs would have been an unknown shock to the body with no source to attribute it to.

What I was feeling was lesser than what I felt being translated over as a part of the bond created by my Evil Pieces. That anguish on her face as her cheeks jerked to crush her eyes. The shaking in her knees as she wanted to fall over and curl to her side. An invisible metal cord that was tightening like a noose around her navel and her neck to forceful choke it up. I could not describe anymore.

Two words; soul-crushing.

When at last that tear was shed, it fell like a solid piece of metal which just dropped rather than slowly trail from her cheek, almost bouncing as it sailed through the air. It fell with a splash as it became liquid again that resonated though the metal cup. And then, it was poured into a glass bottle to conclude the process.

I swore, that I would never allow her to waste another like that on me. The thought of using it made my guts curl in rejection despite the addict's lingering temptation attempting to conduct my lips and tongue to surrender again to that almost irresistible flavours that heal the body. I etched that promise upon my memories, that I would rather bite my one tongue and drown in my blood than force her to shed such a horrid tear for my sake. I didn't wish to burden it upon her.

That same vial sits buried in a suitcase I took with me but never to be unpacked.

"I said it was in the Past. But, may I ask why you reacted as strongly as you did?"

My thought returned to the present when Yuuto asked me that question. Unlike with my previous answer, my open opinion on the matter fell like a book being flicked through its pages by a gust of wind. I withheld no secret about my distaste for the Fukukaichou's decision, but I felt my reasoning had been left largely in the dark.

I fiddled with my fingers a while, wiggling them while alternating which of them would press against their opposite counterpart while my wrist remained connected at all times. It was my time to open up to the thoughts that had been eating inside of me since I heard of the decision.

"When I was reincarnated into a Pawn, it was my choice. I chose to accept the piece and become a devil. That's just how it was. Seeing her being-, seeing Nimura-san being made into a devil after she was already dead. It was li-. It wasn't her choice. That's what was bugging me the whole time."

I couldn't explain myself well, but it was fundamentally down to perspective that I had disagreed with the choice made two nights before.

"You didn't agree with Shitori-fukukaichou's decision?"

I rubbed my eyes into my knuckles as I lifted my fact from my desk and instead raised it with my arms forming an arch to act like a stool.

"I know and I understand her reasons. She didn't allow her to die. She wasn't even there. None of us were aware that this would have happened, and I can't exactly blame her for having so limited an option left. But, she wasn't the only party involved. If she had still been alive, or even just conscious on the verge of dying. At least, she could have made the choice. That's all I have to say."

"You're upset that the choice was out of her hands. That perhaps death should have been left as the ending, even if it was a bad one."

When he put it like that, it wasn't so much that I thought she would have preferred staying dead or that having already been killed that she shouldn't have-

I couldn't really convey to him just how . . . unnatural it seemed. Raising the dead. It was like wavering slave contract over one who didn't have a choice in the matter. It wasn't the same as I thought a conduct between a devil and potential peerage member should have been. It was a deal made by signatories. It looked more like claiming ownership over a person with no say in the matter.

If, and it was a big if, that had been me. Every time I thought about that, I thought about what may have happened if th-, Nimura-san had been me. If I was the one who was killed while still human. If someone had reincarnated me against my will, or even worse allowed me to get killed then swoop in to snatch me up while I was struggling to grab any straw to save my life.

All those through struck me like lightning and I felt much colder than the loss of blood had drained from my veins and arteries just looking at the scene.

If I couldn't even explain that to Yuuto, then my only other option was to just put on a brave a smile and pretend that it was nothing that needed to be shown concern. I did just that like a coward, but I felt at the time that it was probably for the best that I buried the remains of my complaints and insecurities and wore a mask to hide it behind as not to affect the mood of those around me anymore.

"I was human once you know, it was just an overreaction. I'm sorry if I got you worried about me like that."

He waved his hand of the conversation. "Don't worry about that. I think this the first time I actually learned something personal about you, Issei."

I snorted humourful to his comment. "Unlike me, who still thinks of you like an enigma. I don't even know your real name."

He looked at me a little confused, but he quickly realised I was largely being sarcastic and less than serious despite it being truthful.

"What do you mean? Kiba Yuuto is my real name. I have no other name. I no longer hold to-."

He was interrupted by a loud voice coming from the front entrance to our homeroom. While it was a shouting tone, nor was it made with any rudeness or malice, and neither did any of the conversation aim at either of us directly. But the conversation that took place seemed to placate all over discussions in the room that suddenly caught both of our interests.

"Hey there. If you are here to see Kiba-kun, then you are going to have to schedule an appointment with the club president at her headquarters."

Our class representative, and also the director for the fan club dedicated and devoted to Yuuto, Mikoto Shizuka, was taking affirmative action, and she was especially strict on the girls that often tried to enter the classroom. Most of them, of course, were after a look from their prince charming.

Don't get me wrong that the two of us found this daily intrusion to the classroom as annoying as the rest of the class. However, it seemed more like a territorial game like Risk or Nobunaga's Ambition when it came to the girls in this school.

It was pretty daunting, and even scary at times just how uniformed these girl were. Even the many who were not even practitioners of combat sports were quite deadly when their gazes were on the people who arrive at the wrong time.

I never understood how Yuuto could just continue to whip up a signature smile and move on, but that was the luck he seemed to possess. It was comforting knowing I had the ultimate pacifier only a foot away from where I studied every day.

"Up the stairs, second floor and to the-"

"Actually, I'm here for Hyoudou Issei."

'Wait?' My ears pricked up at the sound of my own name. I had been barely listening to their conversation through no fault of my own. Enhanced hearing and all. But I was suddenly entrenched into it.

'Me?'

That wasn't true. Unlike the Casanova sitting to my left, no one ever came to this classroom to see me. I know it was the first year and all, but it simply wasn't done. He was the one all the girls in our year and years above every wanted to see. At best, I was second but that may have been generous since I was always sitting next to him. Unless they were a devil, I never interacted with another girl.

Unlike for Yuuto, the class representative downgraded her initial stance from a tiger to an origami tiger the moment she heard this girl was looking not for Yuuto, but for myself.

"Oh, for Hyoudou-san. Well, he's at the desk next to Kiba-kun."

"Thank you."

I didn't see her enter, but as soon as she was in the classroom, the girls started parting to make a path between her and myself, and that was when I realised who had come to pay me a visit. Ut it didn't make me feel at all relaxed;

Brown hair clearly visible in the underside of her hair, while on top was a lighter more silvery blonde colour. Amber eyes, but those were hidden behind a pair of glasses I didn't know she needed, which made them look darker than I thought as I compared the visual image with the one in my memory.

Her hair was held back by a headband just over the top of her forehead that kept it from falling in front of her face, and there were definitely a few strands behind her head that had been cut shorter than most which reached just before her shoulders.

Apart from that, the only thing different was that she was wearing the Kuoh girl's uniform. There was no mistaken who had come to visit me this morning of all times. There would only be one girl in this school who would rather approach me when I was sitting next to the most popular boy in the school;

The exorcist from the woods.

My unease was not settled by the sight of her. The friend is only a friend when they are the enemy of a common enemy. There was no such enemy here anymore. Only old enemies and animosities.

"See. There are girls that are interested in faces like yours."

"Considering she's with the church, I think she likes my face to be mantled on her walls like a hunting trophy."

Unlike us of the devil faction, her posture and walking didn't seem to be hindered at all, neither did her arms look bandaged. Though, as I took a glance towards her hip where she took a serious injury, there was an obvious bump where there must have been either a patch or a pack that was now been wrapped to her side by several loops of bandaging.

I could also see that her breathing appeared to be hindered slightly as her movements were slower, although I couldn't absolutely certain that this was all attributed to this injury.

She eventually approached my desk, but she stood to the side separating each desk rather that directly in direct face in front of me. Her hands covering each other, but hanging slight to her right as if to loosen the bindings a little beneath her shirt.

What concerned me more than her posture, was how meekly she spoke when talking to me in front of everyone.

"Hyoudou Issei."

"Um, yes? Miss . . . ?"

"Blumhardt. H . . . Hanna Blumhardt."

'Hanna Blumhardt?' I though after hearing her name. 'Well, at the very least I can stop calling her simply 'exorcist' now.'

Whether it was an act to hide her true nature or her true self in the face of a crowd, it mattered very little that I remained suspicious of her coming to homeroom the day school returned for the week. And so early in the day of all times too.

"Blumhardt-san. May I help you with something?"

Her eyes darted as she watched everyone in the room. But, I couldn't decide if she was anxiously shy and embarrassed, or if her motive was to keep notes on the movements of the others in the room. But with only myself and Yuuto the only devils in the room, as Momo was with the Student Council, surely there was no need for such caution

Especially if she had managed to obtain and track me by name. A name I never gave her.

"May I . . . please talk to you someplace that is private?"

I winced my eyes, but I was certain to hide my suspicions under a comely smile. Or, at the very least I hoped that my acting would be enough to convince the classroom that this was a civil discussion.

I knew the dangers in taking her up in this offer. Meeting with the church. She wouldn't be so brazen surely if she didn't have a backing plan. A trap. No, that was not possible surely. Especially if the two clan heiresses were back, would it really be worth risking such an unstable armistice by killing a low level servant.

Something wasn't adding up. But, I wasn't likely to find out if I didn't accept this offer. At the very least, even should I have been killed, there was little chance I was going to let them get away unscathed, even with injuries such as those I had on me that day.

"Yes. Certainly."

She turned and started to walk out the classroom, as I pushed my chair from my desk and ten walked around it to follow behind her. I kept my eyes and ears focused less on my surroundings with the inevitable low-voiced speaking that was beginning to build up.

I just had to remember to watch my back before speaking to Miss Blumhardt about . . . outside affairs. Not exactly good if a nosing snoop caught wind of whatever was being spoken of that needed to be kept between just us.

And . . . maybe even from the other devils also if needed.

Yuuto grabbed my arms as I walked in front of his desk. He pulled me in, which every girl in the room caught on to as they watched his actions like he was someone from Hollywood, or more specifically like the foreign prince they interpreted him to be.

It didn't escape my ears the small rumours that had been floating about how the girls viewed our 'closeness as friends'. Need I delve further?

"You know that this probably a trap, right?"

He whispered it to my ear, but it could have been better accomplished whispering lower further way to avoid this unnecessary scene he was creating around us.

"I already knew that" I answered. "But, if she wanted to kill me, should wouldn't have made herself publicly known to have lured me out moments before my dead body is discovered."

His eyes resigned themselves, but his voice remained concerned. He eventually released my arm after detailing his plan in case the situation went awry.

"I guess you're right. Just . . . watch your back. I am going to have to notify Shitori-fukukaichou of this, but I wouldn't try pushing yourself after those injuries you endured."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Yuuto."

He sat back down at his desk, while I used this momentary air of relief to quickly manoeuvre my way through the class. I didn't really wish to think what the rest of the girls in the class were going to be spreading around after Yuuto made what they would be considering a 'direct advance' on me.

I shudder at how much scarier human girls can be compared to monster that you just beat to a pulp if they get aggressive. Girls have words that can do more harm than any sharpened claw or teeth can hope to penetrate, which doesn't help when the ratio for the year alone was 11:1 on a median across the entire age group.

I will not detail the long and boring walk through the school, but our meeting place took up into the woodland that separated the new school building from the old one. I would have pointed out the dangers in getting this close to the base of operations of the second devil King over the first, however, the insecurity of this meeting kept me at ease knowing that in front and behind were places I could take refuge if things went sour.

I had to be wary not to expose myself still, or at least, that was what I believed;

"Are . . . you feeling ok."

It was a casual question I asked her, but she didn't think of it as such. After having been carried back to her home, and the shock of waking up with my shirt over her torso instead of her own, this would have been the ample time to slap me across the face if this had been made in animation.

The reality of it was more civil than that. Or, at least physically civil at the bare minimum.

"Apart from the apparent stench of having had a devil walk around my room and leaving me . . . an offering on my table, I am still very capable. I am perfectly suited and committed to defending myself in the future, as well as taking heed to my own injured self. I think you look more battered than I was in that battle. I'm surprised you even took your health out of account and came back."

While the insults may have been a bit excessive, I felt more at ease speaking to this more plain speaking Blumhadt than I was with the publicly shy version of herself that had appeared in homeroom. I could have questioned her about the act in the classroom, but even if she was from the church, it was impolite to pry one's nose into a women's private business. If that was even what I could have excused it as.

"I'm guessing that you didn't just want to talk about exchanging 'thank you's'."

Despite her hair being relatively short, she combed it with her left hand as if it was worthy of Rapunzel's.

"As if I would besmirch my family name by having considered myself indebted to a devil."

"Then this meeting is a moot point. If you're going to kill me, then you really should have considered keeping that a secret, not that I am trying to actively encourage you."

She looked like she was about to bite her tongue off with the way she flicked and curled it so like she wished to introduce non-existent 'l' sounds into my native language. I found it a most . . . I wanted to say entertaining, but it looked pretty unpleasant standing and watching as someone .

I almost bled my own ears with the memory of Lord Riser's first conversation with me in Japanese. I really wished not bog my hearing with something so foul as that again.

"This is . . . an-. I can't put it into words. Japanese is too barbaric a tongue to be used for these kind of conversations."

"Ich spreche Deutsch, du weißt.

("I can speak German, you know.")

With a surname like Blumhardt, and because her inflections in her speech were not recognisable as American or Canadian English, I deduced she was a native speaker of German or at least one of the West Germanic branch languages. I wasn't actually certain whether my words reached to her were actually in German until I observed her speaking a little while after as I wasn't fluent nor could I construct a sentence without the aid of my Evil Pieces.

For the sake of differentiating with her usual Japanese, I did initially think to alter the way she spoke. However, this would have been a gross misrepresentation as even while she was speaking toward me, the only differences that were notable when making conversation had been the apparent change in fluency between how she talked.

I had covered it up previously, but her languages skills were very lacking when it came to Japanese. Her native accent ruined her pronunciation of long syllables without a grasp on viable substitutes, and a few consonant sounds were still incomplete or had a few sounds too strong or extended.

However, if this was the results of only six months learning, then I had to say that it wasn't bad enough that it couldn't be understood, and if needed on a regular basis, it could pass.

The second difference was while I knew what she was saying and understood her completely, her mouth was independent to her voice. What I mean specifically was while her lips and tongue and teeth were all coordinating with her jaw to reproduce her native German, my ears with the aid of my Evil Pieces were hearing her words as Japanese.

For example; when she is saying ich (I), which stretches her cheeks while baring her teeth to make the 'i' sound, I head the syllabary wa as in watashi with an open jaw and rounded lips. I never noticed how harsh it was watching and listening two different forms of communication. I felt a little nauseated as my eyes kept being drawn towards watching how inconsistent her fascial movements didn't match to how she sounded.

When it came to Deftodiz, it was different; I had gotten used to speaking that even when I use my Evil pieces to translate unfamiliar words, I don't notice it as much, and even when I recall it, I don't even remember there being a difference when I replay the sequences in my mind.

I guess it is like watching a foreign film with subtitles for so long that when you think back to automatically translate the words into the speech rather than remembering the speech and subtitles as two different filters.

"Very well. I will cut to the chase then. I wish to pick your brain if you are willing."

"Church business?"

She nodded, but that should have been unsurprising that this wasn't in anyway a friendly conversation between two different beings who only formed a formally cooperation to save their own hides on the one occasion not too long ago. As I also recall, I didn't even know she existed despite having been at school for a little over six months.

"Does the name [Red Dragon Emperor] ring any sort bell?"

I honestly shouldn't have been surprised. I have no doubt that there were more of the church's spies lurking somewhere in these parts. No doubt she had already heard of this from them and was now

Why was I the obvious choice to interrogate? My King was absent. Maybe too easy of a reason for which to single me out, but with the injuries all the devils who had been present had sustained, the Kings of the Gremory and Sitri peerages were obviously looking a little more cautiously over their respective groups, which left me as the apparent weak link.

It was only speculation though.

"Yes. I believe he was the guy who defeated those two fallen angels that attack us and you last week. I didn't see him do it, but from everyone else's accounts, I have to believe them."

"Then detail what happened after I was unconscious, . . . please."

'Please?'

In all my years, I would never have seen this coming; the day that one whom should have been counted among my mortal enemies asking not just for assistance, but doing so politely.

My options now were limited, though I could very well have just refused to answer a single question she pressed in front of me. I considered that choice, and almost put forth the gall to step away, but I then refused my own request on the basis of propagating the events that may unfold later;

I had thought at the time, that stepping away and not answering would have been the more natural of choices to consider, but then I thought on it longer and then I realised how much more there would if she didn't receive her answers now. She would press more firmly and without courtesy most likely. The consensus that she was asking I of all beings was noteworthy toward the idea that there was no one else within her own group that could surrender the answers to her. This was little less than desperation, but further defences against resolving ignorance was match ready to spark, and what may have followed could have been worse than my obvious choice toward this matter.

I weighed the option of giving in an account. Not the account, but enough of a detailed diary entry that it would be better than nothing to report back and cite if needed than using nothing at all if this is what she wanted. She didn't exactly have anything to compare it with, and with that in mind, what every lies I spun into the truth had to undoubtedly considered the facts whether she knew so or not.

That was what I thought.

"The fallen angel attacked me instead, figuring you were probably going to die regardless after taking such a serious blow to the head. I'm ashamed to say that I wouldn't have lasted against him without you, so I got very careless. I was on my knees with a spear to my neck, about to lose my head and the majority of neck along with it. I remember a flashbang or something similar, then a sudden force crashed over me, and then I too was out of it. By the time I was awake, the fallen was dead or rather he was non-existent and he, the dragon, was already there. He flew off towards the east, and that was all that happened. Oh, and I took you home but you know that part."

Her eyes closed over for a minute, racking round her thoughts while I watched on a little perplexed, before she opened them again to assert one final question upon me.

"So, you claim to have no such affiliation with him?"

I nodded. "Yes."

Her face leaned in. "Are you absolutely certain of this? The absolute truth?"

Her instance was almost petrifying; her head edging almost dangerously close. It appeared odd to me at the time why she would have done this, as if to stick her head closer to the lion's jaws despite having only been friendly on one occasion out of convenience of the situation.

Unafraid of being snapped? Was I no longer this incarnation of evils wrapped in a human-shaped fleshbag?

Nevertheless, I reaffirmed my answer.

"Yes. I am.

There was a brief pause, and then six words followed from her mouth with sharp disposition that I was almost caught so unprepared that her next actions would catch my surprise before I could acknowledge I had allowed it to be seen.

"Then, I brand you a liar."

She whipped her hand from her pocket, and in her grip she grasped a small piece of paper. Upon which, there was an image. A photograph.

It didn't take long before the overwhelming use of red ink determined the creation caught by the camera; it was a picture taken of myself in full scale mail, but more importantly, of my moment of reflex. Directly in view was not my face, but of my visor, with the back my left hand exposed.

My eyes widened, and my jaw slackened a little at what I saw. Not to the image of the red metal knight with nothing discernible about that could easily be dismissed as unrecognisable. But to the one area where the image was not entirely of reddish tones and shades even in such a dark room where it was captured.

What the camera had caught was the back of my left hand. What caught me most surprisingly was the appearance of the seal of the Phenex clan clearly displayed in the photo.

There was no other way of ignoring that inconspicuous golden yellow circle captured within the frame. This was the first instance that having that mark horrified me.

There was no longer anyway of excusing myself.

I was found out.

"I want to hear all of the truth now, [Roter Drachenkaiser]."

A best laid scheme gone.

With three deaths, and one rebirth,

no one could have seen.

The dragon within pleased,

to have shown his full fury

and tasting the spoils.

What does that matter?

Unforeseeable, now that

My secret is out.

Omake XIII: What Happened Last Chapter?

Akeno: (dressed in fell S&M, see Volume 15, Life 4: Lets Go with Training! ~Hell Chapter~ and Illustration 4) Arara. It's been more than two weeks and you still didn't get the chapter out. Did you, you naughty boy?

Alek: (twirling around upside down, still wrapped in chains) I am terrified, but strangely aroused. (realising the omake has started) I said that out loud didn't I.

Akeno: Ufufu (says nothing else for a while, but then she starts rolling up her whip) Well, I think that over two month is very bad. Very bad indeed. First, I will have you go through all those reviews, and then . . . (says nothing else, but grabs his chin) . . . then the punishment begins. But you have to make it quick. Delay again and it will only last longer. Unless that's what you want of course. Arara. Ufufu.

Alek: (a piece of paper reaches his face, then turns convenient upside down) This is going to be the shortest review section I have done since the beginning (realises what he just said). I meant in terms of number of reviews read out. (clears his throat);

『To User:AcclaimingTR: Thank you.

To User:grimjack: 1)I get better, I swear I'm trying to improve. 2) I did warn you.

To User:taifik90: Oh, believe, you're not the first.

To User:snowyassassin: I have already apologised, and I have seriously cut back.

To User:darth56: Aww, shucks. Thank you as well.

To User:percy_zoe_and_artemis_fan: 1) Thanks. 2) Thanks again. 3) Seriously, I only had two bits of 'thanks' and I wasn't expecting such a rush. Have an 'I appreciate it' instead.

To User:ichika_aono: 1) Thank you for your open minded approach. 2) I know, and she still hasn't given it back ;'(

To User:mineng101: Thank you for your complete honesty at the very least.

To Guest: I can't answer everything you have written, but I thank you for your time.

and to User:WarsmithDantioch: Thank you so very much for your kinds words. I was sorely in need of them to get this finished.』

(visibly sweating after finishing) C-Can I come down now? My head is filling like a balloon full of blood.

Akeno: (smiles but says nothing) . . .

Alek: (sweat drops) I take it that's a no. (to the readers) Well, there is little much to say except I will try to get out here, but until then, this is good bye.

Both: Bye-bye!

Alek: (rolls his eyes towards Akeno) Sooo, will you consider loosening this noose a little. I'm getting a little itchy and I promise I won't try to escape or anything.

Akeno: (cover her mouth) Ufufu. It's funny how you think that I would. Besides, you still have another chapter to turn out before I will consider it.

Alek: (deadpanned while now swinging side to side as the whips starts stretching out) I thought as much.

Thank you for reading, and review at your nearest convenience.

Special thanks to 'AcclaimingTR', 'grimjack', 'taifik90', 'snowyassas1n', 'darth56', 'percy zoe and artemis fan', 'ichika aono', 'mineng101', 'Guest (1)', and 'WarsmithDantioch' for their reviews, I really do appreciate it.

Last one coming up (when it's done, *gulp*), and then the canon timeline will be reached at last, I swear. So enjoy the wait. Or not.

Well, until next time everyone. Bye!