Countless stars, an endless pilgrimage, the last hunt for the Beast of the End, countless reprieves and tribulations. . . Why the fuck I was roped on this shit!
Arc 1: Crimson Princess Desolation of the East, the Red Dragon & the Holy Maiden. . . in a bucket.
Prologue: Halcyon Days
. . . light. . . mad laughter. . .
. . . screams. . . pillar of light. . .
EX. . .
Beep! Beep! Bee – Boom!
"Damn it. . . I damn broke another one. . ." I complained out loud as I relaxed the arm, frozen in a finger gun gesture. The 'barrel', the pointing finger still visibly smoking from the discharged curse that destroyed the tenth alarm clock of the week. Again.
It took me ten minutes blankly staring at the wall as I took my time relaxing my body to the hyper comfortable bed.
'Fasting with only ramen as my stomach's tribute was worth every yen for this thing.' I thought as I moaned and squirmed in my bed like a worm trying and purposely failing on rising up from my comfortable pillow and the plain dakimura in my hold.
It took a long hard-pressed mental battle for me to rouse myself up(15 minutes). Rising from my bed, I gave a few stretches as ingrained habits started to control my body. I fixed the bed, picked the flower vase with only one single pink flower beautifully blooming ever since I came here and I lastly wore the crocs I had for indoors. Shambling into the comfort room like the damn zombie I am every morning regardless of this body's high specs. and started my day washing my face and returned into my daily chore of monologuing the fuck out of my mind in the short possibility some higher powers are listening in my head from the blind eternities to send my complaint to my parents that isekai sucks.
Drying my face, I stared at the mug in front of the mirror and I still can't help stare at the reflection that stared back at me. The only thing that seemed to had been retained from my glowing make over is my face's perpetual resting bitch face ruining the look, and the size of how much my eyes looks. Which I'm thankful given in a world that is animeland translated to real life makes me a bit normal to the slightly bigger eyed looking people around that seems to be built for fucking puppy dog eyes, besides those who seems built to be harmless looking, fucking eyes that screams pure evil, or in a constant battle of being in a graveyard shift and too many serious meetings and shit.
An incredibly handsome natural face that would be not so out of place from some South Korean boyband, Caucasian, green iris sharp eyes and a mop of blond hair that no matter how I did not care much in my hair care is still as silky-smooth AF since my isekai via. some out of body experience.
Yes, mysterious probably not there voices that I can't hear. I did not have the privilege of getting isekai-ed by Truck-sama and their distant cousins, relatives and probably in-laws. Random knife-kun held by either an intrepid criminal, a yandere-chan(even if I wanted that in my deepest consciousness), or the random cosmic accident/coincidence of getting hit by some falling object or lightning itself.
One thing was little ole' me fighting my stubborn AHD, insomnia and probably some unconfirmed angst, trauma, depression and mental issues just to get that damn 5 hours of juicy sleep and next thing I know, I closed my eyes, then some astral or soul fuckery and I was floating a few inches of my body then get fucking yeeted into the blind eternities into this body and its original occupant.
Conscious the whole trip. So, beside my usual probable unconfirmed problems, I may or may not have some added loose screws in my head now. And like the annoying party pooper and shitty minder that is the other fellow in me, my eyes started glowing in a soulful emerald glow, heat rising in my chest as I exhaled warm air out of my mouth and cold sharp focus shocked my mind out of my funk.
I closed my damn eyes that seems to ready on shooting lasers, controlled my breathing and I willed that metaphysical organ in my chest to calm down, cooling the heat and the ball of complicated feelings the dream invoked to me that was brought to forefront.
"You know," I said to my reflection, eyes open for dull green eyes tired of every shit the world yeeted on the owner of them while replacing the water from the vase. "Having the same dream each night is an absolute poor taste, o king."
Naturally, no one responded, nor my reflection changed or whatever dickery talking to a split personality would ala Green Goblin happened. Or the fucking magic flower that is my only hint how this body is here in this specific world. Only the heat briefly increasing in my chest, fucking glowing eyes and then back to normal swiftly.
I barked a laugh at that. So much for being a Psuedo-Servant and shit.
"Yes. . . I think I'm not good this night. . . no, no! Its fine. Ok, talk you later chief." I ended the call, flipping my phone and put it in a pocket. Jogging down the streets of Kuoh in early dawn is still a bit of a surreal scene to me, like I'm still dreaming and crap. It's not because I'm in animeland or something, but it's just so. . . ordinary.
Yes, that's the word. For being a future supernatural hotspot, the damn place is too ordinary that in my constant travels, in both lives that is in my nogging, the damn place is too ordinary. And that's the only bloody thing me and my accidental body jacked self-had in similarities! True, there's difference in intent why we traveled a lot, the scrappy human me, an unwilling traveler and the larger than life me, due to a sense of duty and his literal last scrap before retiring, six feet under the ground.
"Good morning Mr. Pen!" Huh, did not notice that I arrived already in my destination, wiping the lonely sweat out, I panned my gaze on the whole street. Hawkers from as far as the eye can see starting to set up shops, early rising customers strolling around, buying from each stalls greeted me. The granny in the left side of the street waving at me genially. I waved back, forcing my perpetual resting bitch face to gently smile at the woman as I approach her and proceeded to browse her wares. Young? Old? To be honest I don't know how to address her given my circumstances.
Andrew D. Pen. 22 years old, British immigrant and professional drifter. Jumping around on three constant different part-time jobs in all of glorious Nippon, traveling around to earn keep and returning briefly to Kuoh in a few intervals. Is what my identifications summarily says when I woke up in that apartment(which had been magically illusioned to hide my BS further cluing me who sent me here) beside the flower, a magic pendant that hides my nature if I don't throw around magical shit, a wallet with IDs and some small cash, magecraft tomes, books and knowhows and a damn mirror. And to my only confidant(me), Psuedo-Servant of Arthur Pendragon, the modern-day holy sword wielder and King of Knights. What a drag. . .
Finishing my grocery run for the day as quickly as possible(which I did not, Granny Chiyo's such a damn good conversation partner and her sweets are damn annoyingly delicious baits), I proceeded to walk home. Students passing by going to the various few school the town have, or to the famed ladder system school named from the same town. I ignored the stares, the giggles as I just let my eyes cloud and let routine take me home. I did not bother looking at the brats literally wearing anime school uniforms and their dangerously short skirts, or the few shitstains cursing the local gaijin pretty boy for taking the attention of the 'ladies'.
God, I wanted it to go back to the disgust or the weird stares from my past life. . . Heat, blossomed briefly in my chest, making my eye twitch. . . fucking goodie two shoes. Fine, I'll stop the daily flagellation! My body temperature swiftly returning again to normal humie scale and not breathing out my unique speshul magical energy out in the open, I increased my walking speed back home.
Christ, and I still damn wonder why I'm the one in the wheel even now. . .
Returning home was fairly easy. Luckily, Arthur pulled that shit in the middle of a crowd, slinking out was a breeze even when I felt familiars snooping where the equivalent of a snort for a dragon did. One of the problems of living in the territory of two princesses of the devil kind is literally dodging the damn things especially when my luck tends to pull me to stumble on a Stray's hunting ground, or stumble upon something supernatural dicking on normies.
Though, usually I just tend to cull the crazies in my town when I'm around, or needs to polish my skillset so I tend to throw my unique magical signature and energy around so I can't blame the tin can usually. Even just using my wind magecraft tends to clue them in which is highly annoying making the need to quickly finish the fight and bail out and act as a local nearby hobo. Took me months trying to tone it down and somehow make a filter trick that it was only a normal magician flinging magic and shit to not clue a dragon had 'roosted' on one of the apartments near Kuoh's school and only a passing by flying lizard was around, probably, given teenager brats can be as smart as a child giving the answers of the universe to adults.
Luckily, the magic pendant on my neck also has a 'deodorant' function so to say so dragon musk and crap don't stick on me so the local kitten ain't gonna sniff me out. Had a good laugh once tho when I stuck around after I used my abilities due to some fuckers in Kyoto when the equivalent of magic police who responded at the incident after I slinked away and overheard that they thought a dragon got horny and wailed at the local dipshits tho.
I'd say I wanted to stay to see whatever misunderstanding people would think. But the ice in one of my bags might melt and I do not want to waste good ice that is not processed by magic. Still had trouble making ice even alchemically right now, there's that fucking weird aftertaste every time I use it for a good cold juice and asking to separate the ice from my specific frosted groceries had been a habit until I did it right properly, and constantly of course.
Arriving in my crib, I touched the door knob, pulled out my phone as if to check the time and said the magic words that appeared then unlocked the door using my keys. Satisfied that the code I put in the apartment's bounded field is done properly with a flash in the back of my hand, after analyzing something I only have uniquely in this crap sack world, I entered and proceeded to rush to the ice box.
"Damn it, should I? Should I not?" I muttered in the umpteenth time on thinking of buying a fridge. With my pays, hobbies and savings to go to another country, specifically where Uncle Vlad ruled before. Memories suddenly flared briefly in my mind, white halls and the man himself finishing sewing a scarf. One of the best things I guess being the tin can's Psuedo-Servant is having clear cut memories being a Servant in Finis Chaldea, somehow.
. . . All the happiness and sheer shenanigans the damn place(and ride) gets up to. . . and naturally, all the horrors. . . Ritsuka's thighs are damn glorious tho when Arthur princess carried her away from dangers or her just demanding it from a long trek. Stocking. . . bare skin or uniform tight clad thighs. . . no offence to Ayaka of course tin can. . .
Shaking my head out of the unexpected bittersweet(and horny) memory dive, I proceeded on making myself a cup of tea and my breakfast. As I was making my meal, I thought of the overall situation this world is in.
One of the problems in this damn world for me is how intrinsically connected the supernatural and modern world even if they have their own version of Statue of Secrecy and crap. Almost as connected to my home 'reality' so to say. Oh, the supernaturals are hands off on the human world in a matter of speaking. But when you tend to have big ass companies and conglomerates literally plastering mythological names and references and being more well off most of the time, it's obvious the supernatural have much hold here as much as they fucking care of the masquerade. Fuck Amazon here is Amazoness! Much to my hilarity.
Naturally customs both the normal and supernatural side are kind of connected so trying to smuggle yourself out of a country here is hard without having the necessary backing/force to make them ignore your illegal shit and I can't just easily walk on water and rush to Romania given the possibility of getting noticed by the supernatural kind, especially when I'm almost clueless as fuck on whatever is lurking in Nippon's waters.
I don't want to stumble upon whatever mythology I learnt by osmosis alone on whatever lives underneath those depths and whatever I don't know, Pseudo-Servant psychology be damned. And teleportations via official channels are damn expensive and then there's how the devils metaphorically gut you with their fees.
The reason? 9 fucking 11. That damn shitshow made it a damn trouble in travelling to and fro in various places given that apparently the incident had supernatural backing. Air marshals(which in normie me and Arthur's side did not have in our home) got fucking gutted both the supernatural and the normie assigned on those planes so people got paranoid and thus bulked up their security and shit and thus travel become more expensive.
Sometimes I really wonder why even as a proud fan of supernatural magical stuff I wholeheartedly agree on King Gilgamesh's actions. . . Pink petal floated in my nose suddenly, making me crossed eyed and catch it. Making me realize I had been standing in front of my icebox. Fuck, lost in my thoughts again. . . Walking in the small table where I had put the flower off handedly, I watched with a deadpan look as another petal swiftly grew out the lost one, the petal in my palm vanishing into pink particles of light.
"Do you ever stop you fucking illusionist of a succubus throwing some fake flowers in people's faces?" I said in the empty air trying to get a simple rise of my possible soul/body napper and probably voyeur. No answers of course. I shake my head and go to my wardrobe to prepare for today's most important job.
Hyoudou Issei is already a second year, so traveling around is out of the window now forcing me to go for Plan M. . . I'm annoyed that me flying solo and just removing and hoarding one of the main lynchpins of a certain fucker's plan would be delayed due to financial issues of all things. Ah fuck it, I'm going to have much fun screwing with the brats anyway!
I pulled the already ironed uniform and grab hold of the ID and with a twist of my arm, wrapped it around. Humming a tune, I prepare myself for the trials of the day, and said goodbye to the chill exciting time I had previously, and mentally prepare for the fucking speedrun of a lifetime in this reality.
A/N: . . . got bored, checked if there are Proto Arthur DxD fics out there, saw there is none so I decided to make one. Cheers! Review if you like it or want to talk shit on this prologue if you want, reader review sustains my muse to give more! . . . Probably, I don't know, muse is a fickle mistress and crap.
