The ground was in shambles, some people jumped at Issei's moving statue, but their limbs and organs shattered across the cracked ground, as it wasn't enough to stop the Gram wielding Issei.

George was furious, but not stupid. If he would get into Issei's range of attack he would simply perish, and thus he was levitating as far back as he could, as he kept the small kid behind his back. He shook his shoulder, and black shadow monsters spawned from behind him, jumping at Issei.

With a single swipe, the monsters were gone, as Issei's armored legs shattered the ground every 15-20 feet, as he was dashing towards Georg.

He raised his sword as a shield, just before it was struck and he was thrown backwards with a bang, as light and darkness met.

Issei landed on all fours, sliding along the ground backwards. He raised his eyes, meeting the bespectacled knight. He was holding his sword in one hand, as he pushed his glasses up with other. His suit was extremely exquisite looking, and it was a mismatch with Issei's blood covered face and his half-cracked armor.

Issei's eyes pulled into a scowl, as he noticed the sword in his hand. He had seen it before...in books of course. It was the legendary Caliburn.

''Who made you into a king?'' – Issei asked, stabbing the Gram into the ground. His vision was going red and cutting off for milliseconds on end. The sword was at fault, and his concentration was failing. Not to count the anger he was feeling.

''My family. I am no-one other than Arthur Pendragon.'' – He responded, narrowing his eyes the same way that Issei did.

He was angry, and when he was, his thoughts tended to turn into mush. He knew his sanity was slipping away, again. He raised his free hand, and pushed it into his abdomen, right on the wound that he had burned close.

He clenched his teeth, as saliva splattered from his clenched jaw. He let out a cross of a growl, a scream, and a painful groan. His back arched, but he remained standing, as white, black and red flashed before his eyes, messing up his vision.

Issei wondered why the knight wasn't attacking. A ringing sound in his ears locked every-other sound away...just for a bit.

His eyes focused on Arthur Pendragon, who was simply waiting. His concentration returned, the pain fell back and now only he and Pendragon was there. Everything else, every sound and feeling fell back into the blackness that surrounded the two of them.

Without as much as a nod, the swordsman and the devil, simply holding onto a stolen sword, dashed at each other.

The two opposite swords met, throwing waves of energy to the sides – one light, other – dark. Issei stepped to the right side, while Arthur stepped to the left side. They both changed their positions, circling around each-other. An unending clash of their blades happened, but it was hard to understand the way they fought.

Arthur fought as if dancing – elegant, light on his feet, agile and brilliant. His movement were beautiful and almost poetic – even those who didn't know anything about sword-fighting, even those people would be silenced and enchanted by his movement.

Issei, on the other hand, was crude and ugly in his way of swinging the sword. If Arthur was swinging a sword, then Issei was swinging a crude slab of metal, or so it looked.

While their exchange of a few hundred blows happened in a less than a minute, Issei was growing weary of the fight. His armor was getting cut, him barely avoiding some of the other swings, that he could not block in time.

Various strikes, swipes, upper and lowercuts with their blades, but they always met half-way. Issei grunted, pushing against Arthur's Caliburn with his superior physical power, throwing the enemy's balance off. He spun around, this time switching it up a bit.

As Arthur stabbed his sword at Issei's throat, he raised his sword over his head, still with his back turned, blocked it, and as he turned his body back towards Arthur, he kicked at his stomach.

Ki shattered, as Arthur was thrown backwards, clutching at his side. He had blocked it with the bottom of his sword's handle, but Ki had a longer reach than a normal kick.

For a second, it felt like Arthur had bodyguards. As soon as he was slightly injured, two of the many cloaked swordmen jumped at him from the sides. They knew what they were doing – charging into their deaths, almost as if brainwashed. They were committing suicide by attacking Issei.

And Issei wasn't a man known for mercy. If they wanted it, he was more than happy to grant it.

One of the two swordmen flew into the air from a Ki strike that shattered his skull, leaving a trail of blood into the air, together with a single eyeball that popped out of it's socket, as the Gram simply ripped the other swordman into two with a single swipe.

The blood from the first swordman and the shattered sword of the other hit the ground at the same time, and Issei was already gone from that spot, launching himself towards Arthur with his boosters.

[BOOOST BOOOST BOOOST!]

His Boosted Gear roared, as he felt his strength return for a second, just to be absorbed by the sword in his hand...it was cutting into his hand and leaching power.

And there, once again their swords clashed without stopping, only the two of them, only this time coupled with kicks and other off-hand fighting advantages. Arthur's sword went from above, cutting down at Issei's arm, but he sidestepped and swiped his sword upwards and downwards as fast as he could, making the sword turn practically invisible, but that was also dodged.

As Arthur's sword came for Issei's chest, he stabbed it into the ground, creating a crater and making Arthur dodge backwards at the same time.

Issei looked at Arthur's statue. His haircut was slightly roughed up, one of the two glass of his glasses was cracked. He threw off his suit's jacket, revealing a white oxford shirt underneath.

Issei stood there, waiting for him. It was a nice pause to catch his breath, that was way too shallow and fast. Swinging the sword was way harder than it should be – most likely because it was the Gram.

Issei was caught up in his thoughts, and was a millisecond late to dodge – as his chin was cut slightly, the blade going upwards from the ground.

Issei back-flipped, but as he landed, the strength in his legs disappeared, so he simply rolled backwards along the cracked ground.

Arthur's sword came from above, but Issei raised his arm and spoke to himself.

Phantom Bullet!

Red sparks went along his arm and Arthur was thrown backwards as if an invisible wall had been crashed against him. He landed a few meters away, sliding along the ground on his feet.

[BOOOST BOOOST BOOOST!]

Issei got up, the sword still in his hand, as if chained, and as he stepped forwards...

...his armor shattered.

[BURST!]

He stumbled, but remained standing. The small wound on his chin was burning.

[I'm sorry, partner. Your body can't hold it.]

He heard the dragon speak in his mind, as he nodded slightly. It wasn't Ddraig's fault. It was his own.

''Hyoudou, I don't think you realize how much pain can the strongest holy sword keep you in. It hurts, doesn't it?''

''Not at all. Just a scratch.'' – Issei said, smirking, but his narrow eyes, upturned eyebrows and his flushed face gave away the pain he was in.

''You project the image of being strong at all times, don't you?'' – He asked, seemingly genuinely curios.

''I don't project it. I am strong.'' – Issei bluffed. He always did bluff in the face of enemy, after all. It didn't matter if you weren't strong enough in some cases - if your enemy fears you, sees your unbreakable confidence, that alone can give you the upper hand. However, this was odd, in it self.

Why was Arthur speaking, or rather, stalling for time? Issei was the one who should be doing it, while Arthur should have been the one to attack.

''So, why are you stalling for time?'' – Issei asked, and to that, Arthur smiled.

''Don't you feel it yourself?''

Something cracked. Something had invaded the alternate dimension that was made by Georg. That something was a swarm of devils, fallen angels and a few angels as well...and no one other than old-man Azazel.

Arthur immediately turned around, and simply spoke a few words as he walked towards Georg.

''Be ready for a twist.''

Issei turned around and looked at the carnage that had happened. Saiaorg and his peerage were covered in blood. His knight and bishop were holding up Balam, who was particularly scratched and banged up.

A field of dead bodies like trampled flowers remained after the rest ran away and were teleporting away. Bikou was spinning his staff around, while Issei's fan, the small girl Yano, was floating upside down with a poker-faced expression. Her dull eyes were wandering around, and then they teleported away without saying a word.

Issei stumbled forwards, until Azazel caught his shoulder.

''You fine, kid?''

''Of course.'' – He answered, releasing the sword. His palm was bleeding.

Azazel looked at the sword, before his mouth opened and closed, without saying a word. After a second of silence, he asked. –''Is that the Gram, the strongest demonic sword?''

''Mhm.'' – Issei responded. –''But it doesn't like me at all. The sword was draining me dry.''

Azazel sighed, with a chuckle. –''We are late a single day, and this is what you get into.

Issei was, of course, covered in blood and his jacket and shirt was torn.

''You know, you always look like this after fighting. Do you actually like fighting half-naked?''

Issei pushed all of his weight onto Azazel, who was simply smirking.

''Pfft~.'''

''You know, 'Zazel, I think I'll pass out soon. Do you have any Pheonix tears?''

He nodded and handed the bottle to Issei, who simply popped off the cork and drank it. He felt it go through his stomach, repairing the inside of his midsection. In a matter of seconds, he could now stand by himself.

Although he did feel light-headed, but that was probably the fault of a holy-sword injury, no matter how small it was. The ground around them began to crumble and bend out of shape, as he was teleported out by Azazel's helping magic circle.

He landed in one of the main rooms of their expensive, penthouse suite. Angels, Fallen Angels and Devils, all together, spoke about and scattered to extra rooms. It was surreal, but Issei missed all of that ,as he was leaning against a wall, his mind jumbling about, as his ears only made a low buzzing sound. In his hand, the Gram was still pulsating.

He was pulled back into reality by Azazel's grasp of his shoulder.

''You sure you don't need medical help?'' – Azazel asked, with his soothing, old man voice.

Issei shook his head, fake-smiling at him. –''Nah, just thinking about the fight.''

''About how it went?''

''About how I want it to go next time around.'' – Issei responded.

''Ah, so right to the point. C'mon, let's go find Saiaorg, we need to brainstorm.'' – He said, waving his free hand, as he released his grasp on Issei's shoulder.

Issei moved his head around, hearing his alignments and joints crack about. He looked downwards – he was sweaty, his clothes were ruffled up and slightly cut up – but well, if Azazel didn't care for that – then he didn't either.

He followed him, in a search for Saiaorg.

The empty, cloudy night sky, high in the mountains, should have been covered in pitch-black darkness. However, it wasn't, as the black sky was illuminated by fire. Flames, that were burning down an entire villiage.

The remains of a small city burned like hellfire. Smell of burnt flesh and hair would remain forever, same as the half-melted corpses of the civilians that had lived there and the ruins of the small city houses. Under her platform heels, bones cracked and grinded to dust. The wind fluttered her straw-yellow hair.

She stopped, and stared to the front, her emerald green eyes fluttering a few times.

A bit away, around the corner, she heard a moan of pain, and as soon as she did, a small smile appeared on her face, and she began to move once again.

She stepped over some rubble, and turned the corner, her green eyes tracking on to a small family. A mother, that was using her body to hide a child, a father that was missing a limb or two, covered in blood. His red eyes crossed Maria's, and he began to shake in fear. His expression turned to fear. His mind was clouded by fear.

Maria was scary. Unnaturally so.

The man raised his hand, as a magic circle appeared in front of him, and he shot a mixture of magic at her.

She didn't move at all, as she allowed the magic to hit her straight on.

Nothing happened.

Nothing at all.

She stepped forwards, as the woman hiding her child screamed in fear. Doing that, revealed her two, sharp canine teeth. Or rather, her vampire teeth.

Maria raised her hand, about to obliterate the small family, but she changed her mind, and stepped forwards, until she reached the woman hiding her child.

She squatted down, looking her in the eyes.

By now, she was simply screaming, in fear and anger. But, there was nothing she could do. She was powerless, as the petite girl with green eyes took away the child between her arms and raised him up in the air, with her small, slender arms.

Maria looked at the woman, who was clawing at her legs, because she couldn't get up. Not with the way her legs were mingled under a piece of debris.

The small boy had a cut on his forehead, it was bleeding. He couldn't be more than 5 or 6 years old. Maria changed her grip on the boy.

The father of the boy immediately ran at her, but she simply looked at him, and snapped her black-fingernail covered fingers.

The man's legs shattered, and he flew through the air, landing on his chest. He screamed in pain, but that couldn't overcome the screaming of the woman behind her.

Maria simply smiled, happily, after all, she was choking the life out of the small boy with her arm. Saliva dripped down, over her arm.

''Ah...I really dislike this part about strangling someone, you know? The saliva, the blood or other bodily fluids...it is really messy...'' – She spoke, seemingly to the parents, but it felt more she was talking in general, as she liked to do.

The screams of the parents echoed between the sound of burning wood, rubble and bodies.

''This is really, really nice...the screams...ah...boring.'' – She said, making a ''che'' sound.

CRACK.

The small kid's vertebrae cracked, as his red eyes went upwards, and his shaking and budging stopped instantly.

''Ooops.'' – She sighed. –''What a weak neck. I though you vampires were suppose to be stronger?''

A burst of fire magic shot at her, and she didn't block. It hit her blank in the face, setting it on fire.

Whilst on fire, she looked at the father of the small boy...and he gave up. He simply looked upwards into the night sky, that was being polluted by fumes of the fire around him.

''Boring. Boring. Boring.'' – Maria stated, dully, as she released the boy to fall to the ground, as a toy she had grown bored of. –''This is way too mundane for me. Where is the spirit? Where is the drive to help your own child? Where is the despair that comes, as you try use your last breath for revenge? As you destroy yourself, in hopes of finding a single, small smudge of power that could, possibly save you, or your wife? Goddamn, I've seen a 14 year old kid mentally stronger than you.''

''What did you get out of this attack?'' – He asked, blankly, seemingly uncaring for her questioning.

''Nothing, honestly.'' – She chirped back, as her face regrew, it's tone turned to it's usual, perfect, fair white. – ''We are searching for someone, but it seems like your village is not the real one.''

His eyes went wide. –''...Are you saying you killed us all for nothing? An entire clan of vampires, for nothing?''

''Yes!~'' – She answered, with a gentle smile –''Although it was not for ''nothing'', because I did get to have some fun.''

She spun on her heels, turning away.

''But now the fun is over and done...and your future is at the end.'' – She spoke, looking into the eyes of Fleimel. She had appeared there, whilst Maria had been talking.

Maria nodded, and she raised her arms, blasting the two people to kingdom come. Only a pile of mingled bones and charcolled insides remained.

She was wearing the same black cloak over her black jeans and shirt as was Maria.

''What now, ma'am?'' – She asked, with her usual stoic voice.

''Nothing. We go back, we did send a message.'' – Maria spoke, with a poker face.

''Might I ask what kind of a message?'' – Fleimel asked, walking next to her. She was the one to set fire to the whole village. She was one of the few people, that had ravaged the citizens of the village. She had done what told, so now, she was curious.

''The message simply states ''We know''. I know, that Khaos Brigade have their eyes set on the vampires...and they probably have a small idea of where is the one thing that we are looking for. Our goal, is probably similar to theirs.''

''Isn't that good?'' – Fleimel asked, shooting a ball of fire towards a house that was only half-burning.

''Kind of is, kind of isn't. We don't play with other bullies. We are the bullies. The only bullies on this playground. So, we will have the need to wipe them out, eventually...but for now, I'll give Issei-chan some time. He asked me for it, very nicely.''

Fleimel nodded, as they walked along in the silence of the night. After a small while, others of the Suicide Squad joined them, with the same, black overcoats over their regular clothes. Some held assault rifles, some swords, and some, nothing at all – magicians. Among them was Gilgamesh, who held a bored expression.

''Although this attack helped to know that they have it hidden somewhere far away. Somewhere more private and secure.'' – She smirked, and after a wave of her hand, she, Fleimel, and the masked men around her disappeared into the dead of the night.

Issei was looking upwards, at the azure sky. The clouds, small and dispersed, moved slowly, in the midsummer sky. The Sun was a blazing ball of fury, millions of miles away, but still, it burned his skin. Wind rushed by him, gently rustling his white hair.

The wooden floorboards under him creaked slightly, as he moved his body, to switch up his laid-down position. It had grown uncomfortable. His mind felt fuzzy. Had he fallen asleep, under the comfortable sun?

He raised himself up, looking around.

A lake, to his front. Behind him, a slight forest. A small, wooden dock was under him. He narrowed his eyes, looking to the front, noticing the other side of the lake – it was devoid of people. Only a forest stretched around it.

Issei leaned to the front, looking into his own reflection over the water. Two brown, not as dull eyes stared back. His face lacked two, maybe even three scars. The one that stretched over his left eye, the rhombus cut into his eyebrow, and the one on his chin. As he looked at himself more, it seemed, as if the face held more of a ''childhood innocence'' kind of a look.

He heard footsteps behind him.

It was Margit.

He didn't turn around, but he knew it. She sat down, next to him. Both remained silent, as Margit pulled up the cuffs of her black, slim military pants and took of her boots. Issei glanced at her, as she hanged her calloused feet over the edge and submerged them in the lukewarm, summer water.

''It helps, doesn't it?'' – Margit started. –''This kind of a rest.''

''Mhm.''

''Always remember it, child. You can push yourself, you can fight with all you have, but if you don't rest, if you don't take your mind of it all just for a little while, it will not help. Just the opposite. It will make you go crazy. We are criminals, we are mental, but we are not crazy.''

Issei nodded. It made sense, after all. Even people like them needed rest. Did they deserve rest? Not in the slightest, but there was no one to deny them it.

''I wanted to speak to you about fighting, training, or the delay between your shooting and reloading, but I threw away that idea. Want to know why?''

''Yes.'' – Issei responded, looking into her blood red, slightly narrow eyes.

''Because I remembered you are still a 15 year old kid, who was torn away from friends and family.''

Issei froze up. That...was correct, wasn't it?

''And as you are a child who hasn't done this since birth, I can't understand you that well, when it comes to this. I can give you the training, I can give you strength and braveness, but I can't see into your mind...tell me, are you lonely?''

Issei dodged her eyes, as he looked at the water, throwing ripples in a circular motion from Margit's feet.

''I think I am fine. I accepted that I will be alone since Maria kidnapped me. So, because of that, I have come to expect it.''

''That's a strong thing to say. Even the toughest of men crave the touch of a woman.'' – Margit responded, looking away. –''Do you miss your friends?''

''Not really. I never did really have anyone. There was a boy, when I was a child, but he moved away with his family and we lost contact.''

''...You didn't have friends?'' – Margit asked, seemingly lost.

''No. I was odd and a pervert, so girls hated me, and boys liked to pick on me. But I never really took them to heart. I believed, that one day, I would find friends that would share my interests.''

''That's odd. I expected you to be normal before this.'' – Margit spoke, moving her head side to side. –''How about your parents? Do you miss them?''

''My father is a salary man, so I didn't see him that often. I kind of miss eating breakfast, as he told some dull stories from work. Sometimes they were interesting or funny.''

''I see. That sounds nice.''

''Margit...when you were my age, what were you doing, right about now?'' – Issei looked at her face, but she was looking away.

''I was...killing right about now. I was born by the blade, and I will die by the blade. I didn't have a childhood.''

''So, no friends either, right? No family?''

''No friends. I had a brother. He died a while ago. It was my fault.'' – She responded, offhandedly. –''But, why didn't you mention your mother?''

Issei looked downwards, as soon as Margit's eyes met his.

''Tell me.'' – She asked, once again.

''Because I miss her the most. When I was smaller, she would listen to me ramble about other school boys, or how I would rumble with them. If I got hurt, she would put a bandage or two on me, and tell me to trudge along. It was kind of like that.'' – Issei said, joining his hands together. –''She was nice to me.''

''As a mother would, Issei.'' – Margit responded, looking at him. –''Although, I wouldn't know about that.''

Issei nodded, and silence followed. Issei's face became more hollow, as the bird chirping became a dull, throbbing, buzzing sound. He fiddled with his hands, restlessly.

Margit placed her hand on his shoulder, washing away the sound. –''They say, that women have a warm, gentle touch.''

She leaned him backwards, and he, trusting her, dropped his head into her lap. Her slender fingers, although they were slightly calloused, ruffled and played with his hair, as he calmed down. Margit's red hair shone against the blinding sun, as she looked at him from above.

''Sleep. You deserve the rest. You have become so strong, in such a small amount of time. Maria...she hurt you deeply...but you still march on...it takes a strong man to do that.''

Issei closed his eyes, feeling her embrace. Her grasp was kind, soft and warm...but it was a different kind of warm than the sun...it didn't feel too hot. It felt simply right. As if in that embrace, nothing ever could hurt him.

''Maria's hands are really cold, compared to yours.''

''Of course. Someone with a soul so rotten could never kindle a fire in their heart.''

''That was pretty corny from you.'' – Issei chuckled.

She smiled. –''I guess it was.''

She ruffled his hair stronger for a small while, as he wished to remain like that forever.

But he couldn't, since it was a memory, that he was dreaming about. A memory, that he held dearly.

He opened his eyes.

From above, a rotten skull was looking down at him. Her skin had rotted off, her eyeballs had perished, her ligaments had been torn. Her jaw was wide open. Gentle fingers had turned into sharp, white finger-bones. Her skin had been pealed off. He tried to get up, but her bones had rotted into what was left of her skin and muscle, thus, he only had a single choice.

As he got up, he broke off her arms. They did break, easily, like old, rotten wood.

Pitch darkness surrounded him, until he was grabbed by the neck and lifted into the air. The darkness fell back, and he was, once again, amidst a sea of blood, coupled with the unfortunate clouds.

A suit of armor was holding him up in the air. Medieval style armor, holding the demonic sword Gram in it's arm. Without mercy, it was crushing his neck, together with his vertebrae, veins and trachea.

It was obvious, the sword was trying to tell him something. Most likely, that he didn't like him. That the sword would not budge to the new ''owner''. That the sword would take the wielder's life, if he would continue to use it.

With a crack, his neck snapped, and his eyes opened, for the third time. This time, in his room, and at was early morning, once again.

He rolled over in his bed, raising his arm. He cracked his finger. With a loud pop, it did crack. So that meant, he wasn't dreaming anymore. His head was throbbing in pain.

He got up, and groggily put on his usual joggers. He tried to take some more painkillers from the table, but the small bottle was empty, since he had taken a bunch of them before going to sleep.

He dully noted, that he shouldn't, since that was making his dream go over the top and trippy, at least, more than usual.

Without any other options, he stretched his shoulders and back, and dropped onto the floor, and began do to push-ups, recapping what happened the day before, when they had found Saiaorg.

They had decided to go all out, since Issei had killed Siegfried, once a member of the Exorcists that went astray. If they pulled out all the stops and killed every single one of the Khaos Brigade, that were currently there, the problem would solve itself.

After all, in their line of work, killing often did work as a problem solver.

By now, Issei was doing one-handed push-ups.

However, a few things still remained unknown. For example, Yasaka, the 9 tailed Fox God. The purpose of her kidnapping, and the fact of Loki still being alive and well, and him joining the Khaos Brigade. If he was there, that would complicate a lot of things. He didn't even know his strength.

Could his fists kill a god? Could his fists reach someone who is above man, devil or angel? A God? A true God?

He shrugged, and tried to convince himself that his hands could wring the life out of god of Death itself. He tried to believe, that he was that strong. He tried to believe in himself, but recently, it was becoming harder and harder.

And Cao Cao remained. When it came to Cao Cao, the fighting process became a world different. Absolute power of his fists didn't matter anymore. Simple strength didn't cut it anymore. Strategy, movement, speed and move-set mattered. You couldn't blindly attack, or else you'd die. Mental game, showing that you were not afraid.

A single milli-second of doubt would spell his death.

Issei was reminded right there, of how much he hated fighting strategist-types. Although, Azazel was one as well...and he had a plan. He stated, he would hold down Cao Cao, or at least try to, as long as Issei and Saiaorg would focus on saving Yasaka, because she was apparently very important.

Issei sighed, changing arms.

Of course, he would. Even though he wanted to defeat Cao Cao, he didn't want to fight him. His punch-before-think didn't work on Cao Cao.

His mind stumbled on about, as he remembered the dream he had.

The sword was sitting on a desk in his room, wrapped in a special tape that Azazel had prepared a long time ago. He had said it was one of his experiments and research material.

But his mind didn't care for the sword. It cared for Margit. For her gentle arms and her blood-red eyes. It felt so real.

It felt as he had really traveled to the past. However, much to his dismay, he hadn't.

Yo. It is me, back again. I'm sorry for the month's delay, but I was trully busy. This time, not with myself, but with other things, real life things that mattered. Now, however, I am back.

This story is now entering the point of no return. In the next fight, shit hits the fan, hard. And when that happens ,don't expect for your favorite girl to survive. Or at least, remain as she is. I'm going to pull out all of the stops there is.

This is truly the calm before the storm.

Don't say I didn't warn you, to not go into the sea.

Ps. Yes, I did enjoy Arrow. Season 1 the most, Season 2 was also not that bad, but I dislike season 3. It became way too light and corny to me. Besides, that forced romance with Felicity? Just kill me irl. I actually liked her in season 1.

TheLaughingStalk - Of course. I don't give free power ups. Never. Even the Gram has complications, when the sword itself didn't choose Issei as the wielder.

Thank you reading, as always! Please leave a review, favorite and follow! I answer questions with PMs, of course, if they aren't too spoilery~

Tune in next time for the beginning of the end. This time, it won't take a month.