Re Degli Harem
Prologue
A Campione – a Godslayer – is a supreme ruler.
Since they could kill celestial beings, they can therefore call on the sacrosanct, divine powers wielded by the gods.
A Campione – a Godslayer – is a lord.
Since the power to kill deities is in their hands, they therefore loom over all mortals on Earth.
A Campione – a Godslayer – is a demon king.
Since of all mortals who live in the world, none can assume a power to match theirs.
It was a common saying amongst the three factions that nothing was more reassuring, and more vexing, than Campione. The god slayers who stood atop the world, reigning upon the unseen and the supernatural with their strange and at times frightening abilities.
To humans, they were unseen guardians who maintained a fragile balance of power in the world.
A necessary evil, as each and every single one of them was a tyrant.
One could not argue in the face of absolute power, after all, only kowtow before it and expect mercy should the whims of the Kings blow in the right direction. The most mercy one could expect from the Campione was a swift death, or perhaps losing whatever valuables they held.
In layman's terms…
'They are a pain in the ass.'
Azazel thought himself an intelligent, reasonable man. He liked to research interesting things, enjoyed discovering new interactions between the known and the unknown. Though his principles were guided by the need to attain results based on the knowledge he gained over the course of his long life.
Everything he did, he did in order to learn something.
Information, weaknesses, whatever it may be.
On the other hand, something as unpredictable as the whims of a human turned godslayer were a headache to figure out. Each human was unique, with a unique perspective and set of circumstances that made them who they were and guided their actions.
'At least there are only six.' Was the type of thought he sometimes found himself going down.
After all, if you had to worry with six issues then it became a simple matter of avoiding them, appeasing them, or should they prove troublesome for the status quo, work to eliminate them.
Fortunately the latter option had never been chosen in over 500 years.
Everyone wanted to keep the peace, after all, and allowing the Godslayers to live and maintain their reigns made it possible for Azazel to figure out their personalities and how to better navigate them.
Duke Voban, the hunter.
Luo Hao, the High Priestess.
Black Prince Alec, the collector.
Madame Aisha, the wanderer.
John Pluto Smith, the hero.
Lord Salvatore Doni, the swordsman.
Yes, ever since the end of the Great War, the world had seen the rise of a great many Campione. But for a time things felt like they were finally calming down and Azazel could put his mind towards solving these puzzles for the sake of the Grigori's continuation.
"Could you repeat that from the top, please?"
So one could forgive his cautiousness at the thought of a seventh one.
"Again?"
"Indulge me, Baraqiel." Azazel let out a sigh.
One could never be too certain about these matters.
"If you say so. The staff downstairs reported at ten thirty in the morning that a great mass of negative energy had formed over the Indian Ocean, causing disturbances to the weather and to our sensors."
So far so good, he followed along.
"We believed this to have been caused by a recently spawned Heretic God and dispatched messengers to the Holy Cult and the Sacrilege Investigation in case this mass moved towards the Americas or Asia."
"And then…" Azazel prompted.
"And then… it disappeared before ever making landfall."
Any other day of the week, that would have been good news for Azazel. A Heretic God being swiftly dispatched before they had to risk an all out battle in a populated area was good news. Only the circumstances before this incident didn't make any sense.
"Are we sure it wasn't Luo Hao? Or a preemptive strike by Smith?"
Those would be the best case scenarios.
Sure, it would be a massive international incident as either Campione leaving their territories to hunt for a god in a neutral zone could drive others to push their luck.
But it was still better than the alternative.
"Aisha?"
"Unaccounted for, last seen wandering a marker in Morocco by one of our scouts. She could be anywhere… "
Or any-when.
"Azazel?"
"Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts. You were saying?"
"I wanted to know how you wished to proceed."
Cracking his neck, the Fallen considered his options.
"Where was the disturbance last detected?"
Baraqiel leafed through the pages of the report.
"Near the shores of Japan."
The Leader of the Grigori leaned back. How he wished he had gotten around to installing those heated massage seats. The sheer amount of stress he'd accumulated over the past ten minutes would have driven anyone else to a liquor cabinet.
How did he want to proceed?
Frankly, he wanted to bury his head in the sand and ignore this.
As curious as he was about the incident, if the others detected the presence and disappearance of that Heretic God then Japan was about to become a hotspot as the others tried to make sense of what happened.
There was nothing the Grigori could learn there that they couldn't by simply watching and then stealing from the other factions.
Between spies and plain old bribes, they could obtain whatever the others learnt.
However… that wasn't his style.
The burning feeling in the pit of his stomach demanded that he get to the bottom of this. Demanded that he be the one to unearth these secrets and hoard them.
Truly, one's nature as a Fallen could be most compelling.
"We'll send a team to investigate. Small, no more than four. We want to keep this discreet, with minimal contact with the other factions. They will doubtlessly be sending people too. But we could be the ones who noticed this first."
Baraqiel smiled wryly.
"Strike while the iron is hot, huh?"
Azazel mirrored it.
"Precisely."
It was unnecessary. It was capricious. It was the sorta thing that he, as the leader of the Grigori, should have scoffed at and deemed unnecessary… however… there were few things that appealed to Azazel as much as an unknown variable.
"I'll put together a team then. Any suggestions?"
He shrugged.
"Not too weak that they would get killed, not too strong that they would attract any attention… get them just right and impress upon them that they should avoid a confrontation at all costs."
The other Fallen nodded resolutely. Though Azazel was pretty sure the man was disappointed he'd forbidden any of the Cadre from going to Japan since they lost Bezaliel to Luo Hao. The man was supremely confident in his power, and more than likely had plans of his own.
Like wanting to see his daughter behind his back.
Not that Azazel blamed the man. Love, even when scorned by another, had a beautiful quality to it.
Timeless.
Much like the beauty of Heaven's most beloved Lady and her-
"She's gonna hit you with lightning again if you don't wipe that look off your face."
Drat.
Foiled yet again.
"Are we absolutely sure it wasn't Doni?"
"He was last seen touring the Mediterranean, Lord Michael, the idea that he might leave for the shores of Japan in such short notice is…"
"Not beyond a Campione's ability. Especially if they are being supported by their organization."
Somedays, Michael found that he enjoyed his work.
Granted, it wasn't out of some sense of pride. One should not puff up their chest at the thought of doing God's work, nor should they allow their sights to be clouded by the feeling of accomplishment that came with succeeding at a task they had been literally built to perform.
That way lies the Fall.
But yes, some days Michael found satisfaction in the daily grind of his work.
Even if it was harsh.
Even if it was thankless at times.
There would always be that feeling that he managed to accomplish something worthwhile with his time. Something that would push the cause of heaven and salvation forward.
"We would have sensed a long distance transportation spell, sir. It would have been reported to us by now." Truly Michael must have looked paranoid before his fellow angels.
But the truth was that you never knew with Campione.
Mortals who obtained power through a peculiar ritual involving the death of a god. Thankfully there was no capital letter in there. There really was no limit to what kind of abilities they developed, and knowing that it was only a matter of time until they got stronger made it dangerous to interact with them.
Duke Voban had been a thorn in the side of the three factions and assorted pantheons for nearly five hundred years now, taking advantage of the vacuum left in the wake of the Great War to build his own power base while the rest of them licked their wounds and rebuilt.
If someone went missing in Europe, it was generally assumed to be Voban's fault one way or another.
Until Doni came around.
From one malicious actor to a, not as malicious, but equally unpredictable another. The italian Campione made waves over two decades ago and ever since then would cause random incidents and collateral damage leading up to his fights with monsters, gods, and everything in between.
The Holy Church had a hard time containing him, with only the top brass being able to give the swordsman a meaningful challenge. Which meant leaving those valuable assets tied down in case they were needed instead of fielding them as effectively as they could.
If he somehow slipped by their watchers and ended up fighting a Heretic all the way at Luo Hao's territory…
It would be a mess, but a more manageable one than Voban would make.
"Now… how to deal with this?"
Should they even do something? Obviously an investigation should be launched, at the very least to understand whether a Campione close to their jurisdiction was the culprit, sending envoys to the territory belonging to the Yokai Faction was just asking for problems.
"We could send the exorcists? They are still human and can move unrestricted."
Michael frowned at the suggestion.
It was the smart move, the pragmatic choice. But it still didn't sit well with him.
Of course, it would be condescending of him to declare only an angel could handle these affairs, Griselda would have respectfully disagreed with him on the matter before making a few suggestions, though Michael would be loath to accept risking priceless lives over a rumor.
There was no need to entertain the thought.
"Do send a note to the Black Copper Cross and the Vatican, we would like to confirm with them that there wasn't any involvement from them at this time."
His assistant bowed, taking notes.
"What about the Royal Arsenal?"
Michael held back a snort.
"They would simply lie. We are better served contacting the Witenagemot for confirmation of Alexander's movements." The man was more of a vulture than a fox, but their contacts at the Vatican constantly complained about the man's attempts to steal relics from their temples and churches.
If something of interest popped up in Japan, there was a chance he might have gotten involved.
"Anything else, sir?"
Was there anything else?
Frankly, there was no method they could use to contact Aisha. John Pluto Smith was also a possible culprit but far away from their jurisdiction. Luo Hao would be within her rights to vanquish any Heretic who spawned near her shores and would have been the preferable outcome… even though that would make the muscle headed girl an even tougher adversary.
"For now, that will be all. If anything new comes up, please report it and…"
"Yes?"
"Please send someone to look for Signore Strada"
Whether it was Doni, Voban, or even something else it always paid to keep one's options open. And it didn't get more open than one of their strongest allies. Someone who could fight off and perhaps contend with the Campione for a time would make for a good show of power.
But that's all they could afford.
A show.
It wasn't time for another great battle. Another war. Though many of them had returned from the aether over the course of five hundred years, many others had lacked the… longevity to make the return trip, and many others wouldn't return until the Campione who held their powers hostage were dealt with.
Yes, they lacked the power.
Above all else, many of them lacked the will to see through another bloodbath.
Arariel. Cassiel. Jehoel.
How long until he could see their faces again?
Would he ever see them?
And what of those who weren't simply strong enough to make the journey back from oblivion? So many names, so many losses. Were they waiting for monsters like Voban to die before they returned? Were they truly lost forever?
The wait was truly the most horrible part.
Even now, their number of angels dwindled every year and Michael found himself tempted further and further to rely on their human allies. To pass onto them the burden of death and sacrifice under the pretense that heaven awaited all who lived righteously.
When even he knew he couldn't promise it.
Michael might have been many things. He might be strong, wise, and kind as a leader should.
But he wasn't Father.
How long would it take for him to return? After that final battle, would He ever return to them? Was it selfish of him to, above all others, the one who knew what to do would return and take these burdens off his shoulders.
Though he would never admit it, times were changing, and Michael couldn't tell whether this incident was a good sign.
"I'm going up there."
"No, you're not."
"Surely you can't expect me NOT to do something?"
"Of course not, but one of the Four Satans appearing in the human world after a Heretic God has surfaced and then gone missing isn't exactly what one would call a measured response. In fact, it would be the furthest thing from 'measured' one can conceive of."
Behind the doors of the Great Satan Lucifer's office, a discussion was currently under way.
A debate, of sorts.
A spat, actually.
Though there would be those who would try and play up whatever was happening behind the sanctity of the magical barriers as troubles in the proverbial paradise, or a hidden thirst, what was actually happening behind closed doors was nothing short of a disagreement between husband and wife.
The outcome of which might decide the fate of the world.
"It won't be for long. Just to make sure."
Sirzechs Lucifer was many things. Powerful, influential, devilishly good looking according to many of his admirers as well as utterly hopeless when it came to anything relating to his loved ones.
Be it his wife.
Their son.
Or his sister.
And unfortunately for one Grayfia Lucifuge, very little could dissuade her husband from simply opening a portal and heading for Japan in the middle of what might be considered a national crisis from the point of view of the local communities.
A Heretic God was just that, a natural disaster that put the Human World into a state of watching and waiting.
How much damage would they cause?
Who would eventually step up to deal with them?
That one of the catastrophes spawned and then headed straight for Japan had sent the current Lucifer into a tizzy, ready to sally forth with the full intent of fighting a Heretic God in land owned by another faction just for the possibility that the spawned disaster could reach his precious sister.
Was it admirable? Yes.
Was it stupid beyond comprehension? Also yes.
"How bad can it be, really? Kuoh is our territory so it shouldn't be any problem if I showed up."
Unfortunately for Grayfia, her husband just so happened to be rather fixated on the idea that he should be his sisters protector, and overreacted to anything and everything that could inconvenience her, even though the young Lady Gremory had moved to the Human World specifically to get away from the overbearing presence of her family in her life.
"And if Luo Hao is there?"
The Satan rolled his eyes.
"What if she's there? I'm not gonna be in any danger?"
She sighed.
"Yes, but if she were to be goaded into a fight, then Japan will be but a faint memory in history books… and Rias will be rather cross with you for it."
And therein lay the crux of the matter.
For all his power, good looks, and charisma… Sirzechs Lucifer was still utterly defenseless against the whims of his little sister, to the point Grayfia often wondered whether the man would actually start a war over some random thing or another relating to the young devil.
"She… wouldn't like that… would she?"
Clearly she had the strongest Devil in the underworld wrapped up around her pinky.
"Should I… send someone then?"
A step in the right direction. Would wonders ever cease?
"Would a message not suffice? Kuoh is secure for the time being, and the Yokai Faction hasn't reported anything yet." She offered instead. Lady Rias would be equally vexed if her brother sent any member of his peerage to the human world to watch over her.
"We have an agreement, but it's not like they told us about this mess either. Who knows what they are keeping secret."
Grayfia nodded.
While the territory of Japan was subject to the authority of its local gods, they were far more isolated than most pantheons, instead allowing the two branches of the Yokai Faction to administer their territories.
It was by negotiating with them that the city of Kuoh came to be gifted to them as territory.
But that didn't mean they were friendly.
If anything they were deeply suspicious of Devils due to the Evil Piece System. The ability to recuperate their numbers by turning others into Devils represented a very real danger to multiple groups, specially those who had dwindled over the course of the Great War and now found themselves threatened with extinction of another type.
"Do you believe they might turn to Luo Hao?"
Her husband leaned against his chair, looking up at the ceiling.
"Who knows at this point. If that girl is there, they might try to approach her. Nobody but us can probably do anything about it, but then they would risk losing the favor of the Shinto Faction."
Campione hunted Heretic Gods, yes… but that didn't mean they couldn't hunt other things.
All sorts of magical beings were a source of strength to them.
Inviting a godslayer to roost at their feet was like declaring they didn't care whether devils, angels, or gods were hunted down so long as they remained safe in the shadow of the tyrant.
If something like that came to pass… would Lady Rias be safe?
Therein lay the problem.
She knew her husband to be a supremely cunning and intelligent man. Whatever his quirks might be, one didn't simply rise to his station coasting on power alone and Sirzechs Lucifer was a difficult man to predict and anticipate precisely because you simply couldn't tell what he was thinking and how much he was telling you.
Very few could have a frank conversation with him where he didn't attempt some form of obfuscation.
"If there are any issues, we could invite her for a short stint home. She is likely to think there isn't anything amiss if we dress it up as a family function."
The Satan groaned.
"That's never gonna work. She's pissed at me and at dad for going through with that arranged marriage. Really, I blame Rizer. If he weren't such an idiot, at the very least she wouldn't be ignoring us out of spite."
Grayfia sighed.
Truly, it must have been a Bael family trait that the family members came out so headstrong, whether for good or for ill.
"I suppose telling her of the danger and being frank about our worries would be the best option then? She should at the very least be aware that one of the Godslayers is nearby."
Not only as the heiress of a prominent clan.
But as a holder of a rare ability that any of the tyrants would love to obtain.
"Yes, I do suppose it would be for the best."
It was only then that Grayfia realized her mistake. The unfortunate wording that had one of the rulers of the Underworld push off his desk with a mischievous smile that promised her and a whole lot of other people a migraine of colossal proportions.
"Sirzechs, no."
She moved, stepping closer to the man as a magic circle appeared behind him with a flash of magic energy.
"Sirzechs, yes."
The Satan jumped at the portal, Grayfia diving right after him with an exasperated growl.
24 Hours Ago
Issei dropped to the deck of the ship below, only managing to dodge the incoming attack by slipping on the wet floor as a freakin' chisel flew over his head!
More worryingly, it punched through the outside of his pack, hit the metal of the bulkhead about two meters to his front and, seemingly, kept on going.
For a second he could see clear through the length of the boat and the poor, weak human froze in utter terror.
'Crap, crap, crap!'
Fear did its work and his limbs started moving on their own. Climbing up as quickly as he could, and only slipping once, he bodily threw himself into the hallway, slammed against the inside wall, then took a sudden turn to the right. After all, he was only going to survive if he could continually break line of sight with his pursuer. And the cramped, narrow staircases were much, much easier for him to traverse than… her.
'If that thing is even human.'
Thoughts on the nature of his pursuer lasted all of ten more seconds - because that was exactly how long it took for him to come to a group of statues.
The security personnel were frozen in horror, some with weapons raised. But even guns hadn't saved the men when that monster attacked. And now, well, all six of them were frozen in various states of agony or surprise. Their bodies, their clothing, and even their weapons now turned to cold, unfeeling stone.
"Fu, fu, fu. You're certainly quick on your feet, lover~"
He dropped to his stomach again, carefully crawling beneath the statues, and scrambled across the floor until he put a corner between himself and the monster.
"Using my own art against me? How clever. Are you still sure you don't want your reward?"
Her voice was soothing. Like waves, lapping at the shore.
Even knowing what she would do to him, what she'd already done, part of Issei wanted to go to her. To look up at her with a great, big smile, and peer into her gorgeous, flawless-
Clapping his hand over his mouth, the young man forced himself not to whimper.
To not even breathe hard.
"Oh well. Guess the brat already scurried off." And just like that, every ounce of concern and love and tenderness was gone. Now it was a cold contempt, a mild disgust, even, and a great deal of annoyance.
"Tch. No sense breaking my art, though, he'll show up soon enough."
Her footsteps, the steady "clack, clack, clack" of stiletto heels, told the poor, shivering boy that the monster was leaving. And that he'd bought himself a few more precious minutes of life.
'Can't die yet, can't die yet, can't die yet.'
Issei needed two or three of them to simply calm down, to slow his heart and stop himself from shaking. But, knowing he couldn't stay out in the open for long, double checked his backpack, opening it up and making sure the goods were safe in its plastic box, and unsteadily rose to his feet.
Food, medicine, toys, cellphones.
Whatever he could fit into his bag.
The trips to and from the kitchens were always the worst. She didn't seem to perfectly know where he was coming from, but there were only so many ways to get to the kitchen and all she had to do was wait for him nearby.
How many days had it been now?
Three? Five?
Five days since they boarded this ship.
Three days since that strange woman appeared, stalking the hallways, hunting him down like a game of hide and seek. Three days of people scrambling and trying to escape the ship, only to get caught and turned into garden decorations by that monster.
How long would he last?
'Okay, seems like the coast is clear?'
Pulling out a small makeup mirror from his pocket, Issei squinted at the slightly foggy glass, trying to make out whether the monster had really left or was just waiting for him around the corner.
It wouldn't have been the first time.
But he was lucky.
People who looked at her turned into stone. He'd seen it with his own eyes… well, not really, but he'd seen someone else look at her. Really, he was lucky his eyes had been drawn to her chest rather than her face, or he might have ended up the same way.
'And then people say being a pervert never helped anyone.'
Now he just had to find a way to survive until the ship arrived at the port… or, worse, sunk on the way there.
Then he'd have to figure something out.
Perhaps… it was time to try and load one of the lifeboats? Right under the monster's nose, of course. And they'd need to fill it up properly since Issei had no idea how long it would take for rescue to find them. If it could.
But maybe… maybe he could save someone.
'Sorry, Mom, Dad.' He sighed, gently leaning back against the metal wall.
Anyone, really.
And all Issei had to do was avoid a supernatural monster, not fall and break his neck, and do what hundreds of adults had failed to do. With guns.
Easy, right?