I don't have much to say, I was late in the update because I was very busy at work, my routine was practically to wake up, have breakfast, work, eat, work, sleep. And so on until I could have a free weekend, the few days I had I took care to write at least a little, as compensation the chapter will be long, this and all the others will be longer so you can enjoy the story better.
by the way I updated the mobage card link, apparently it was down but i think this time you can enter to my profile to see the dxd girls.
Reviews
Guest: here it is!
Some1call4MR-E: I will quote a phrase of clayton, if the villain of tarzan from the disney movie... "There is no explanation for a woman's heart" in a certain way it is problematic to understand them, believe me I have friends and I have been helped for this chapter and the previous one, and it is a kick in the balls that although you are not to blame, they in a way seek to make it in your face and be angry with you.
What happens to serafall you will find in this chapter.
Insane Wombat: Hey, take it easy man!
GloGang214: Not exactly, I'll explain later.
CRUDEN: it is relative, you can think that way about her
Danish78: Danish, my man, thank you for commenting, you feel better now, it sucks to be sick, I know, I had irritated eyes and flu thanks to the mold in my house.
Regarding Trunks' swords, wow, you're very observant! The sword Rias is trying to fix is the one Trunks received from Bulma, let's leave Tapion aside, since in Mirai Trunks' reality he never met Tapion, and the sword he's carrying on his back is the Z-sword. The scabbards are crossed, allowing him to draw with his right hand and take out the sword of his preference. As for your question, yes, I do plan to give this more relevance in the future. You'll be surprised when certain characters from Norse mythology try to get their hands on it. Your comment about the girls from HS DxD caught my attention, in a way, they are often underestimated in terms of depth, but I try to give them a twist that makes them stand out beyond the usual stereotypes.
As for Ophis, I thought it would be interesting to give her a more complex and cunning perspective, something different from the simpler version that is often portrayed. In a way, I understand you; it's boring to read the same things and clichés…
I can reveal that Ophis, although at first she realizes the harsh reality, will enter denial. This denial will be one of the driving forces behind her obsession, as she is unwilling to accept that she can't control everything around her. Her fixation on Trunks will become a form of self-deception, as she tries to hold on to an idea of power and control that is falling apart.
As for Serafall, you hit the nail on the head! The paranoia and hatred she feels due to PTSD will lead her to adopt a facade of strength, but not everything is as it seems. There aren't many chapters left until we explain in detail why Serafall acts this way. As the story progresses, we will reach the moment where her behavior hits a breaking point, and her traumas and emotions will spill over, and everything will go to hell... or maybe not, hehe.
Regarding Mai, a friend helped me write these chapters, and when I explained the reasons behind it, you wouldn't believe what she said. She said she would understand, but she would still be angry because she couldn't distinguish Mai from an imposter. Women love to feel unique and special; I loved her perspective, but at the same time, it reaffirmed my idea that trying to understand women is a headache!
Thanks again for your support and constructive feedback. I'm looking forward to you reading the next chapters, and I hope you enjoy them. I wish you continued success with your projects as well!
Chapter 16: Travel to the realms.
What is the Ginnungagap?
To explain it thoroughly, imagine it as a state where all possibilities exist, yet nothing takes form. That is the essence of the Ginnungagap: a vast and immeasurable amalgam of potential, a space where chaos and order intertwine in a dance without direction or purpose.
It is neither cold nor warm; it is not welcoming, but neither is it hostile. It is a state of infinite waiting, a boundary where time and space lose their meaning. In this primordial abyss, everything that could be lies in an inert state, untouchable even by the hands of the gods.
There is no light, yet there is no complete darkness. Instead, there is an ethereal dimness, a mist of gray shadows that moves slowly, punctuated by occasional flashes of primal energy-silent lightning illuminating the indefinable for a brief moment.
Here, there is no sky to gaze upon, no land to stand on, no mountains rising, nor seas flowing. Only an amorphous vastness where every corner is infused with a subtle, almost imperceptible vibration, like the echo of a symphony that has yet to begin.
It is a realm without borders, an untouched canvas where creation has yet to leave its mark. And yet, an almost intangible presence permeates the space, not life, but neither the absence of it. It is pure potential energy, raw power waiting for the right moment to give birth to what will be.
The Ginnungagap is not simply a place in cosmology; it is the crucible where the universe itself takes its first breath. It is the cradle of the inevitable and the refuge of the unattainable, a reminder that even in emptiness, the potential for everything always exists.
Odin often came here when he needed a refuge to be alone or to reflect on the most delicate matters that came with being the head of an entire pantheon. In this vast void, far from the intrigues of Asgard and the responsibilities of being the All-Father, he found something he could not find anywhere else: an inexplicable peace.
Sometimes, he wondered if that peace came from the echoes of creation still resonating in this place. Other times, he thought perhaps it was the total absence of expectations or judgment that made it so comforting. Whatever the reason, when Odin sat at the edge of the Ginnungagap, gazing into its unfathomable immensity, he always returned to Asgard with a clearer mind and a firmer resolve, ready to face the demands of his faction and his destiny.
His fingers danced skillfully over the strings of a harp, filling the air with an ethereal melody. The serenity of the dark water and the echo of his music created an almost untouchable atmosphere, a perfect haven for introspection. But that calm shattered abruptly when he felt an overwhelming presence behind him, an energy so unmistakable he did not need to turn around to identify it.
"What a surprise to see you before the agreed time," the All-Father bellowed. His fingers immediately stopped playing the instrument, as though the presence of this new figure had ruined that moment of calm and his concentration. "Angrboða."
She was a woman of incomparable beauty, with an aura radiating power and danger in equal measure. Her hair was long and of a deep copper hue, gleaming like bronze under the lake's dim light, cascading in soft waves that seemed to caress the very darkness. Her eyes, a brilliant green like the purest emeralds, looked at him with an intensity capable of piercing any mask he might wear. That gaze was not merely defiant; it was the gaze of someone who knew the darkest secrets from the dawn of creation.
"I had a feeling I would find you here, wasting time on who knows what," Angrboða said, her tone verging on mockery.
The All-Father let out a curt laugh.
"How kind of you," he replied with sarcasm. "It wasn't necessary for you to travel so far just to check on how I'm doing."
He paused deliberately, turning just enough for their eyes to meet. His gaze, as unfathomable as the Ginnungagap's abyss, seemed to study her with the precision of someone who missed no detail.
"Well," he added, his voice now heavier, more inquisitive, "would you care to explain the honor of your visit?"
Angrboða did not respond immediately. Her expression remained unperturbed, a perfect mask of serenity, but a subtle glint in her green eyes betrayed a deeper emotion, something she was not quick to reveal.
"I came to see how the preparations are going," she replied with a serene calm, almost unsettling. "Was your approach successful?"
Odin took a moment before responding, letting the silence between them stretch like a taut rope about to snap. For a moment, his expression grew heavy, as though he felt a twinge of guilt, as if an uneasy conscience kept him awake at night.
"Everything is proceeding as planned," Odin said, his penetrating gaze fixed on her. "To be honest… I thought it would take me longer."
The Messenger of Pain (1) seemed satisfied with his response; her slight smile was the indication.
"I can see that. In some ways, we've saved a lot of time," she replied enigmatically. "From what I can sense, it seems you're busy with other matters… After all, I can feel the presence of the Maō Leviathan in your territory."
"Her presence is important. For now, it's not wise to share more details without something more concrete," was all the All-Father said.
Angrboða nodded silently, her scrutinizing gaze never leaving the All-Father.
"I suppose you'll need a hand when my husband decides to act on his stupidity," a barely perceptible tension slipped into her words, like a thin, fragile thread beginning to strain dangerously. "As long as your allies don't meddle too much, I can overlook it without issue." Her gaze intensified, sharp as a dagger. "Though you might not believe it, the inevitable end of my insolent husband is a key piece in our goal. So, gather all the help you need."
She paused for a moment, observing Odin with a look that, while calm, carried the weight of a carefully veiled warning.
"Even so, you'd do well to always remember not to deviate from our objective. Everything must flow as it should. We cannot afford delays."
Odin sighed heavily, revealing his displeasure with whatever Angrboða was planning. Although his words did not confirm it, his rigid posture and the calculated glint in his eyes spoke volumes. Making drastic decisions was never easy for him, especially when they involved someone like her.
"Angrboða was not just a giantess. She was a primordial being, a key piece on the intricate chessboard of power within the Norse faction. Her importance was undeniable, even if it meant their paths would inevitably cross as temporary allies or declared enemies.
Odin was no stranger to the weight of such omens. If the giants' prophecies dictated that a peaceful agreement between him and Angrboða had to be reached, he would comply, even if it meant swallowing his pride and adhering strictly to her demands. Any deviation from the prophecy's order could unleash something far more dreadful, something even the All-Father would not be prepared to contain.
The All-Father understood that dealing with Angrboða was a dangerous game, far more perilous than dealing with Loki, where any false move could be exploited by her to gain an advantage. However, he also knew that the giants' prophecies should never be taken lightly.
Those visions transcended importance, surpassing even the whims of the gods and the differences among them.
"If you're here, that means you've already contacted him." For a moment, the silence between them grew heavier, as if the Ginnungagap itself awaited with anticipation.
Angrboða nodded, satisfied with the mention of the individual in question. She had been meticulous in her choice, ensuring he fulfilled what the prophecy dictated. She was aware that if this omen indicated the necessity of involving a foreign faction, it meant that what was at stake transcended any differences among realms. Whatever might be unleashed was not something to take lightly.
He was perfect for the role. His history as the Angel of Sacrifice marked him as someone who understood the value of what must be lost to reach the unattainable. His insatiable thirst for knowledge, his ability to cleverly manipulate the most complex situations, and the schemes he used to execute his plans made him the ideal candidate. He was not only a useful ally but also a key piece for her plan.
And though she disliked the idea of allying with a being from another pantheon, it was imperative to ensure the prophecy was fulfilled to the letter, for it indicated the need for assistance from other supernatural beings of different pantheons.
"That's correct. Our curious raven is already fulfilling his part," Angrboða responded with a calculating tone. "Soon, he will summon the other two factions to formalize the peace treaty, which will grant him access to enter the demonic and angelic worlds without complications."
Odin remained silent, his gaze drifting toward the infinite horizon, as if weighing the implications of her every word.
"Ensure that the meeting with the Maō Leviathan is successful and that an agreement is reached," the giantess continued, placing special emphasis on the last part. "This alliance is crucial and must proceed without fail. If everything goes as it should, we can move forward with the next phase of the plan."
Odin sighed heavily, struggling to believe he had to involve himself in this cursed plan and follow the instructions of the giantess in question.
"As a token of my goodwill for your generous cooperation, I'll inform you that my husband plans to do something different to bring about Ragnarok."
Angrboða placed a finger on one of her temples. From there, she extracted a small wisp of smoke, reciting a spell of unintelligible words. The smoke transformed into a strange liquid, which she deposited in a small crystal vial now resting in her hand. She then handed it to Odin.
"Here you have all the details you need to gain a small tactical advantage."
Odin took the vial with a piercing gaze. It was clear he didn't trust her.
"I suggest you play ignorant. Let the fool believe he has everything under control. There's nothing more vulnerable for someone than to make them think they have assured victory," Angrboða said with a mocking tone, further irritating the god.
Odin stared intently at the giantess.
"Do nothing?" he said incredulously. "Are you fucking kidding me?" The god spoke irately. "How do I know what you're saying is true and not one of your tricks to take advantage of the chaos and benefit yourself? After all, your goal is for Asgard to disappear."
Angrboða looked at him with playful curiosity, as if accused of something ridiculous. And it was absurdly amusing to her.
"Oh, you offend me, All-Father. Do you truly think I'm a vile opportunist capable of doing the lowest of acts to achieve my goals? My husband's way is not my way." She pretended to sound offended, but it was quite the opposite; the matter amused her greatly. "Anyway, if that's what you think of me, then do as you please."
Angrboða turned away, and a portal opened before her, glowing with a subtle radiance. This act not only demonstrated her ability but also her status as one of the primordial beings. She could travel anywhere she wanted without the need for the Bifröst or passing under the jurisdiction of the Yggdrasil's guardian squirrel.
"I've done my good deed for the day and have a clear conscience," the giantess spoke again, with that enigmatic calm tone. "Before I leave, I must inform you that before the biblical factions' meeting takes place, Azazel will make contact with you." Her smile was almost imperceptible, as she noticed Odin tense at this last statement. "This will be the last time we communicate until whatever must happen unfolds. Any new developments, I will let you know."
Angrboða turned away, and a portal opened before her, glowing with an ethereal light. This act not only displayed her ability but also her status as one of the primordial beings. She could travel anywhere without the need for the Bifröst or passing under the jurisdiction of the Yggdrasil's guardian squirrel.
When the giantess left, Odin remained pensive, staring at the vial with the peculiar liquid inside. An impulse coursed through him, tempting him to destroy it with his own hands, but he soon refrained. If what the giantess said was true, and she was more focused on her own plan, setting Ragnarok aside, Odin assumed that perhaps he could use what she left him to his advantage.
He just hoped he wouldn't regret it later.
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Serafall looked at Trunks with a gaze filled with hatred, as if his mere presence before her was capable of unleashing the deepest repulsion within her being. It was evident that all she desired was to erase him from existence, which was why her magical power grew to alarming levels. Her dark desires were more primordial than the duties she had toward the Underworld. Perhaps for that reason, she didn't care in the slightest if this could cause a commotion in Asgard or jeopardize the future alliance between the Underworld and the Norse faction.
This behavior was curious and atypical because, despite Trunks having been out of her sight for several days, the hatred Serafall felt for him had reached completely new levels. Sirzechs had informed her that Trunks had decided to leave both the human and demonic worlds, as his friend was still weak and would only recover under the care of another faction—care that the demonic faction had failed to provide.
That should have been a positive thing, right? Trunks was no longer in her father's hospital, not lingering in human territory, much less near her beloved sister. Serafall should have felt relieved by his absence. In theory, that damned extraterrestrial monkey would have been out of their lives, which should have brought her peace, right?
But nothing could be further from the truth. Something deep, dark, and incomprehensible to her was beginning to wreak havoc within. She couldn't identify what it was, but her hatred and rage grew with every second, multiplying and feeding on a fury she couldn't control.
And this was caused by the Saiyan's absence.
But why? Why did such a thing happen?
What Serafall was experiencing wasn't a common phenomenon nor an easy one to understand. The absence of Trunks had triggered a strange and uncommon psychological effect, something she couldn't have anticipated under any circumstances.
This was known as the paradox of absence.
In psychological terms, this phenomenon was both fascinating and disconcerting. When the object or subject of one's animosity suddenly disappears from a person's life, instead of diminishing resentment or aversion, something within causes those feelings to increase dramatically. Strange as it sounds, absence doesn't ease hostility but rather intensifies it. This type of aversion doesn't stem from any direct action of the other but from the mere possibility of their presence—from the feeling that one could never live in peace if nothing is done about it, as if the mere potentiality of their absence were more unsettling than their presence itself.
It was as if the person suffering from this symptom wanted the object or subject of their revulsion to be present, to unleash all their frustrations upon them. The absence of that figure brought no solace but instead created an even deeper void, fueling an unhealthy need to seek them out and confront them again and again. It was as if the only remedy for that growing rage was the constant confrontation with the being who provoked it.
Serafall couldn't entirely grasp what was happening within her. But none of that mattered now—she had finally found the Saiyan, and she wasn't going to let him escape.
"It took me a lot of effort, you damn bastard," she said in a tone she never expected to use, "but I've finally found you."
Hearing her, Trunks dropped his defensive stance, crossing his arms and looking at her with little more than indifference.
"Wow! So that's why you went through all the trouble of coming here?" said the warrior from the future with sarcasm. "I could say I'm flattered, but the fact that you've spent so much time searching for someone you supposedly hate with all your soul… it seems kind of sick and unprofessional for someone who's supposed to be a leader of a faction. I can't fathom how you were chosen to lead."
Formalities died. Trunks felt it wasn't worth addressing her with respect anymore. The situation was so absurd to him that it only heightened his disdain for her.
"You left so suddenly that I felt so lonely and just wanted to see you again," she said while stepping closer to the Saiyan, then extended a palm toward him. A magical circle materialized in her hand, gathering a powerful concentration of magic. "I didn't have time to get to know you better, but don't worry, that's no longer a problem. WE CAN CATCH UP NOW!"
The atmosphere grew denser, as if space itself compressed under the demon's manifested power. Her killing intent was palpable. The threat was real.
But such a display didn't cause the Saiyan much surprise. On the contrary, it only made him sigh wearily.
"Listen, instead of wasting your time on this bullshit, why don't you go do something more productive? "
The future warrior's scathing comment caused a thick vein to appear on Serafall's forehead, reflecting the fury growing within her. The sphere of energy in her hand intensified alarmingly, emanating a glow that now seemed to have enough destructive potential to obliterate China tenfold.
"What the fuck did you say? " Serafall whispered inaudibly, "BULLSHIT?! "The female demon's magical power was beginning to wreak havoc all around "YOU THINK THIS IS STUPID!
Fragments of debris began to fly from the force of the Mao's power. Trunks narrowed his eyes, assessing the situation. It was clear that Serafall was not completely in her right mind, which made her even more dangerous. The orb of magic in her hand was still growing and she seemed ready to launch it at any moment.
"I will not overlook this offense! " Serafall shouted, trembling with rage as the orb of magic in her hand grew, radiating a blinding glow. "I am Serafall Leviathan, the great Maō of Hell, and I will not allow a petty worm like you to dare humiliate me like this! "
Trunks remained impassive in the face of her tantrum, simply watching her with a mixture of disinterest that further agitated the Yon Dai Maō.
"Are you absolutely sure about what you're doing?" Trunks asked, dropping his crossed-arm stance. The fragments of debris flying toward him disintegrated on contact with his body, as if his skin was coated in a material harder than any known metal.
"You have no idea how long I've waited for this," Serafall replied coldly. The energy orb in her hand vibrated with an overwhelming intensity, its mere existence threatening to unleash a catastrophe.
Trunks sighed in resignation. He calmly pulled his fist back, though the tension in his muscles betrayed the force he was about to unleash.
"Alright, if that's what you want," he said with a neutral, almost indifferent tone. "I won't be responsible for what happens next."
His plan was simple: end this in a single move. He had no intention of killing her or causing irreparable harm. A solid strike to her abdomen would suffice to send her to the hospital for several weeks, and perhaps the message would be strong enough for the Maō to reconsider and leave him alone.
Yet, deep down, Trunks knew something was different about Serafall. Her hatred wasn't a fleeting emotion or a momentary impulse. It was a deeply rooted feeling that drove her beyond any limit. Even if he stopped her now, he was certain that once she recovered, she would come after him again.
For her, this wasn't about mere rivalry or pride. Her goal was to destroy him, no matter how many times she had to face him or how many obstacles stood in her way.
The sentiment was familiar to him, he had felt the same hatred toward the androids.
The tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Serafall and Trunks were on the verge of unleashing chaos when an unexpected sound broke the tense scene like lightning in a clear sky.
"It's Levi-tan!" several childish voices exclaimed in unison.
Both fighters froze, their attention immediately captured by the group that had just arrived. In the distance, a group of Nordic children was running excitedly toward the scene, pointing directly at Serafall with fascination. Frigg walked gracefully behind them, a faint smile on her face as though she were enjoying the spectacle.
"Levi-tan?" Trunks asked, clearly confused, until he recalled that this was how she had introduced herself when they first met.
"Oh no, no, no! This can't be happening! What am I going to do now?" Her furious expression faded. She was sweating bullets as she found herself surrounded by the children, who now looked at her as though she were a heroine straight out of their happiest dreams.
Bad idea to wear a magical girl outfit, huh.
"It seems the forces of evil bring a new enemy," Frigg said with feigned surprise, clearly aiming to make Serafall even more uncomfortable. "But don't worry, my dear children. Magical Levi-tan is here to save us! But who is this mysterious villain? What dark plans is he scheming? Will our brave magical girl, defender of love and justice, be able to stop him?"
Serafall's eyes widened in shock as she broke into a cold sweat. The children, completely unaware of what was about to happen, surrounded both of them, clearly excited to see what was going to unfold.
Trunks watched the scene in disbelief. What had moments ago seemed like a battle that would unleash destruction had now turned into a children's spectacle.
However, he understood the message. Frigg had skillfully realized that a catastrophe was about to unfold, and she couldn't allow that to happen, especially with innocent children involved. He felt like an idiot for ignoring that detail, but at the same time, he was grateful for the goddess's intervention. Still, a thick bead of sweat ran down his neck as he realized he had now become the villain of the moment.
"Ahem..." he muttered awkwardly, trying to find the right words. The children were staring at him with expectant eyes, waiting for him to play the villain that Levi-tan was destined to defeat.
"Well, I've come to..." he began, scratching his head in search of something believable. "I've come to steal... etto..."
He blanked, staring at the excited faces of the children. Finally, a desperate idea crossed his mind.
"I've come to steal all candys in Asgard!" he exclaimed, raising his arms dramatically and with a terrible performance, while pointing an accusatory finger at Serafall. "And I would have succeeded if it weren't for Levi-tan!"
The children let out exclamations of surprise, some even cheering with excitement.
"We knew Levi-tan would save the day!"
"You can do it, Levi-tan, don't let him get away with it!"
"Do the star attack!"
"No, better do the magical love special attack!"
Meanwhile, Frigg smiled mischievously, clearly enjoying the scene. Serafall, still surrounded by the children who viewed her as a heroine, didn't know how to act. The situation was embarrassing for her, but she had to stay in character as the magical girl in this improvised show. She knew her character was an icon among the children and couldn't afford to tarnish it or risk everything she had fought for.
She was at a crossroads, and it didn't help that this bastard monkey was playing along with this absurd theater.
The future warrior slowly approached the frozen Serafall, who was struggling to process what was happening. Everything felt so surreal that her neurons couldn't make the necessary synapses to get her out of this situation. How could she? With all those excited, innocent gazes fixed on her?
Trunks, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying the situation. As a small revenge for all the times Serafall had insulted and belittled him, he decided to get back at her a little. He pulled a spherical candy from his jacket and, without warning, shoved it directly into Serafall's mouth with a near-brutal force.
"You won this time, Magical Levi-tan, I return your legendary candy," Trunks said with an exaggeratedly dramatic voice, a mocking grin forming on his face, a grin Serafall caught all too well. She couldn't help but feel even more humiliated by the evident mockery in his tone. "But next time, I'll get away with it. And you won't be able to stop me!"
Serafall, completely red with embarrassment, stood frozen, unable to utter a single word. The humiliation she was experiencing was too much for her. The candy in her mouth only heightened the feeling of being turned into the object of ridicule, and though she tried to cling to her dignity, her efforts were in vain. Small tears threatened to spill from her eyes, and she puffed her cheeks with superhuman effort to keep them from escaping.
"We'll meet again... HA... HA... HA... HA... HA..." Trunks finally declared, ending with a robotic, unconvincing laugh, almost bordering on pathetic as she walked away, savoring the sensation of having come out victorious from the situation.
Meanwhile, the children, oblivious to the true tension of the moment, cheered excitedly, surrounding Serafall.
"Levi-tan is the best!"
"We knew it, the bad man didn't steal the candy!"
"Good triumphed over evil again!"
The sound of applause and the children's laughter echoed in the distance as Trunks walked away. Though he had escaped the situation in a somewhat absurd manner, his job was already done. However, his relief didn't last long. Just a few steps later, something hit his head.
"Ow!" Trunks exclaimed, quickly bringing his hands to the sore spot on his head. He looked down and saw the object that had hit him. It was Serafall's magical scepter, the same one she used whenever she dressed in that way.
Immediately, Trunks frowned, surprised, but also aware that Serafall wouldn't let him go so easily.
Completely red from embarrassment and trying not to lose her composure, she looked at Trunks. Her lips trembled with anger, but she immediately made an extraordinary effort to maintain her childish tone and magical girl attitude.
"And don't... don't do your... your mischief... ever again!" she said in a shaky voice, trying to sound playful and kawaii despite the rage she felt. She put a lot of effort into not altering her tone in the slightest, so the children wouldn't realize how upset she was. "Or... or I'll... I'll have to... give you what you deserve again, bad boy!"
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After the shock with Serafall passed, Trunks found himself alone, gazing at the vast landscape that stretched before him. The beautiful scenery brought a slight smile to his face, with the mountains and valleys covered in snow, the forests, and the meadows; it was as if all the biomes converged into one point, giving off a mystical air. The sun was at its peak, illuminating the horizon with a blinding intensity. The golden rays of the sun bathed everything around him, making the snow shimmer as if thousands of diamonds were scattered on the ground.
This view gave him peace. The way the sky extended endlessly was magnificent, as if it were a vast horizon fading into the distance. The clouds floated gently above him, scattered like cotton brushstrokes drifting slowly, some white and bright, others tinged with soft gray, creating a sense of calm in the atmosphere. Trunks inhaled deeply the fresh air of Asgard, enjoying the serenity that this moment offered him, far away from all the chaos surrounding him.
"Seems like you caused quite a commotion, huh? Ohohoho," said a soft voice, laden with wisdom, from behind him.
"Odín-sama!" Trunks exclaimed, turning around quickly, surprising the god, then smiling. "Looks like nothing escapes you."
"I told you, boy, I can see everything," the god replied with a touch of humor. "So, what are you doing right now? Enjoying the view?"
Trunks sighed wearily.
"I suppose so."
The future warrior maintained a thoughtful gaze, as if evaluating the situation. Trunks, seeing his expression, turned again toward the horizon, resuming his observation of the clouds slowly moving across the sky, as if they, too, could understand his frustration.
Odín sat beside him and wisely gave him space until the young man decided to speak.
"I've been thinking..." Trunks seemed to be speaking more to himself than to Odín. "I don't understand why Serafall hates me so much. Since I met her, I could tell something about her feelings toward me, but I don't remember doing anything to her. I don't know what happened for her to react like that."
Odín stayed silent, watching Trunks as if he understood what he was feeling. The human mind was much more complex than it appeared, and when it came to supernatural beings, it was even more so. Especially when dealing with someone of Serafall's status, who had practically existed since the beginning of time. Odín knew that sometimes, a verbal answer wasn't necessary. Some things could only be revealed by time.
However, the young man had too many doubts, and answers were plentiful for him. After all, he was called the All-Father for a reason. Trunks fell silent again, processing Odín's words. There was something in his voice that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as lost as he thought.
"How can I stop it from affecting me?" he asked, looking at the horizon with slight frustration. "I don't understand why she acts this way toward me. I've never done anything to her, nor have I threatened her or her kin, so why does she hate me like this?"
Odín took his time to think about his response, exhaling a cloud of smoke from his pipe, then holding it between his fingers as he thought calmly.
"Hate, boy, doesn't always have a logical root. Sometimes it comes from something much deeper than we can see immediately. Maybe there's something she hasn't overcome, or something that marked her in a way that you can't understand." Trunks lowered his gaze, and the ancient deity spoke again to clarify his point. "That doesn't mean you have to carry the hate or resentment of others. The problem lies with Serafall, and only with Serafall."
Trunks nodded slowly, though he still had doubts.
"I think I understand, but I don't know if I can handle it properly," he said, looking at the clouds drifting slowly in the sky. "Believe me when I say my patience is wearing thin."
Odín stared at him for a moment, evaluating Trunks' words. The young man seemed sincere, but his frustration was also evident. It was understandable, especially for someone like him, who had always faced situations where the answers weren't clear.
"Control over yourself is what will help you the most, Trunks," he responded in a grave yet calm voice. "It's not just about patience, but about how you manage what you feel. Frustration is natural, but you can't let it rule you. If you let those negative emotions take the reins, you'll lose control over what truly matters. And that, boy, is something you can't afford."
Trunks remained thoughtful at Odín's words. He looked at the clouds again, as if searching for an answer in them, but what he saw only left him more confused.
"Maybe one day I'll understand," the Saiyan said with a sigh. "Like you said, there's no point in dwelling on it."
Odín was about to say something when suddenly a magical circle appeared on the ground, glowing crimson, with strange runes inscribed around it. In the center of the circle was an emblem as strange as the runes. Trunks was surprised; he had never witnessed such a phenomenon before. His surprise grew even more when, from the circle, emerged a figure that looked strikingly familiar: a young woman with intense red hair and a voluptuous figure.
"Rias-san?" Trunks said, surprised to see the redhead again.
"Good morning," the young woman spoke through the magical hologram, maintaining the manners her family had instilled in her. "My brother, Maō Lucifer, told me you were in Asgard, and the reason I'm calling is to let you know that your sword is ready... just as I promised."
Trunks couldn't believe what he was hearing. Could they really have repaired the complicated alloy of the sword his mother had made? He was definitely impressed and a little anxious to go and check the repair done on one of his favorite weapons.
"Are you serious?" he exclaimed.
"Indeed, it is ready. It would be convenient for you to pick it up and test the result yourself," she said, showing an image of the restored weapon, shiny and perfect.
The sight of the sword illuminated Trunks' eyes, as he hadn't expected such an outcome.
"Do you think you could go for it today?" she asked, with a subtle smile, as if she already knew the answer.
"Yes, of course!" Trunks replied, unable to hide his enthusiasm. "Where exactly will I find you?"
The young woman gestured, showing images of the Hidden Research Club garden, a place where Trunks had been before.
"In the usual place," she explained calmly. "I'll make sure one of my servants is here to receive you."
Trunks furrowed his brow at hearing those words. He didn't like the way demons governed their lives, taking others as slaves. From what little he had seen, Rias seemed to be genuinely appreciated by her servants. And that gave him the impression that, just as there were "good" demons, there were also those who were truly despicable. He was convinced that many of them treated their subordinates as mere tools or even disposable objects, and that idea didn't sit well with him at all.
But Trunks decided not to say anything. He knew that, in general, leaders were good people and competent, except for one surprising exception. Surely, they must be aware of these dynamics, responding appropriately if any abuse existed.
Trunks had momentarily lost himself in his thoughts, but Rias' voice snapped him out of his reverie.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, observing Trunks' thoughtful expression.
"Eh?" the Saiyan replied awkwardly. "No... don't worry, I'll be there soon," he said as the image of the young woman began to fade.
"Perfect, we'll be waiting for you."
Trunks stared at the spot where the hologram had disappeared, lost in thought. The excitement of getting his sword was overshadowed by a wave of reflections that flooded his mind.
"The human world..." he thought, recalling Rias' words and the image of the garden she had shown. "I've been to their school, I've visited Issei's house, but I still don't fully understand how this society works."
If he thought about it carefully, it was true—he didn't know much about this world. How did this society live? What rules governed it? What were their customs? Was it the same society he had seen in the timeline that changed when he traveled to the past, or was it different? More importantly, how did they coexist despite their evident differences? He could use this visit to observe it with his own eyes.
His thoughts didn't go unnoticed by Odin, who, with his pipe in hand, was watching him intently, as though he had seen something inside him.
"It seems that an immense curiosity has begun to blossom inside you," the god commented, breaking the silence with a deliberate calm.
Trunks looked up, slightly confused by the interruption.
"What do you mean?" he asked, though he knew the question was unnecessary. Odin was known for reading people with unsettling ease.
"Arriving in a new world is a difficult process. Adapting, learning to coexist... all of that takes time," Odin said in a calm voice, as the breeze of the place made his long beard flutter.
The young Saiyan remained silent, reflecting on the words. He had faced battles that defied logic itself, but the act of understanding and accepting the complexities of a new world felt like an equally imposing challenge.
"I'll just say that you're starting to see this world from a different perspective."
Trunks, with his arms resting on his knees, listened attentively. He had faced countless challenges in his life, but the idea of adapting to a completely new reality still felt like uncharted territory.
"There are times," Odin continued, taking his pipe and lighting it with a soft snap of his fingers, "when the customs you consider normal from where you come from may seem strange, even incomprehensible."
The smoke he exhaled rose into the air before disappearing with the wind, as if his words themselves were integrating into the environment. Trunks glanced at the Norse god out of the corner of his eye, trying to grasp the depth behind his statement.
"Questioning what you see is the first step toward understanding it," Odin added, turning his gaze toward the horizon, where the sky was turning red and purple. "But let me warn you of something."
He paused, his face taking on a serious, almost melancholic expression.
"Some answers you won't like," his voice was grave, as if recalling past times, moments of painful revelations. "And others, maybe you'll never find, or if you do, you won't be able to understand them."
The wind blew more strongly, making their hair dance in harmony with the rhythm of the breeze. Trunks squinted and looked toward the horizon, reflecting on the god's words. The vast and beautiful landscape reminded him that even in the midst of the unknown, there was space to grow, to learn.
"This is a necessary path you must travel," Odin added, breaking the silence with a softer tone. 'For now don't complicate your life and go to the human world, contemplate what you must contemplate and spend some leisure time,' at that he approached the boy and put a hand on his shoulder, his expression had changed quickly, 'and when you have understood more about this world,' the father of all passed an arm over his shoulders in a show of camaraderie, "We will go to a titty club and have fun!"
"Boob club?" Trunks mentally wondered as he didn't know what it was, he didn't have a good feeling about the steam coming out of the old man's nostrils -Is it something interesting?
Odin froze for a moment. His expression quickly changed to surprise and then transfigured into deep disgust, as if what he had just heard was the most offensive of blasphemies.
"What are you asking, boy, it's the best thing there is!" The old man replied with a frown, making Trunks look down self-consciously, "It's a very interesting thing and of utmost importance to all men!
Odin, as if to emphasize the greatness of what he was describing, began to move his fingers in the air, as if he were playing an invisible piano. The bizarre gesture was followed by circular movements of his hands, as if he were molding something spherical and enormous in front of him.
"Big, round, fluffy, soft, hard, small, big, big, huuuuuugeeeee," he said with a perverted grin as his hands continued to trace impossible shapes in the air. "And don't forget the curves. Gue heh heh hen heh"
Trunks didn't fucking understand what he was talking about and didn't want to know. So he let the god be immersed in his twisted fantasies and turned to the horizon, trying to ignore the spectacle in front of him.
Sometimes it was better not to ask too many questions.
"I-I suppose I could take your advice?" Trunks replied, somewhat nervously, as he watched with concern as small strands of blood trickled out of Odin's nostrils. "I don't know why, but this sir... reminds me of master Rōshi."
"Ahem..." Odin said, calming down a bit as he wiped the blood from his nose with his robe, clearly not noticing the strangeness of the situation. His gaze returned to Trunks, as if everything was completely normal. "Well, I think you understand what I'm getting at, don't you?"
"Trunks, still somewhat confused but determined not to delve into this matter, nodded hesitantly.
"I-I think so... " he replied, not entirely sure of what he had really understood.
"Excellent!" exclaimed Odin with a satisfied smile, as if he had just won a small battle. "I'm glad you've grasped the idea."
Odin seemed genuinely pleased to have a companion in his "perversions," though Trunks couldn't help but feel increasingly baffled by the situation. However, the old god didn't linger on this, knowing well that the young Saiyan had more pressing matters to attend to.
"I won't waste any more of your time," said Odin, his tone turning serious, his gaze conveying both authority and understanding. "I know you're in a hurry to retrieve your sword. It's an invaluable treasure to you, isn't it?"
Trunks nodded slowly, feeling a weight on his chest as he recalled the importance of the sword. He looked at the ground, his expression turning melancholic, reflecting the emotional burden the object represented for him.
"Yes... it's a very precious keepsake to me," he replied quietly, his sigh vanishing into the still air. The sadness in his words did not go unnoticed by Odin.
The All-Father decided to wait until the warrior from the future felt more confident and ready to open up to him.
"Perfect. But before you go, extend your hand, please," Odin requested kindly.
"U-uh... okay?" replied Trunks, somewhat unsure and confused by the unusual request from the old Norse god. What was he planning to do?
Odin didn't answer immediately. Instead, he examined the young man's arm attentively, as though looking for something specific. After a few seconds, a smile spread across his face, having found what he sought.
"Nice watch, kid," praised the old god, his smile oddly unsettling for some reason.
"Thanks... I guess," Trunks replied, still not entirely understanding the reason behind the compliment.
With a near-ceremonial gesture, Odin began to chant in whispers, speaking in an ancient and unfamiliar dialect.
With an almost ceremonial gesture, Odin began whispering chants in an ancient dialect unknown to Trunks. The young Saiyan watched in growing amazement, wondering what was happening. That was when he noticed the artificial eye of the Norse god starting to glow with a faint yet intense light. Words and symbols in a completely foreign language began appearing in the air, floating around Odin's figure. Trunks couldn't believe what he was seeing: those runes were floating, spinning in the air until they moved toward his watch.
The runes began to surround it, gaining speed and forming a ring of azure energy, so bright it was almost blinding. The ring shrank in size until it merged with the watch, which began to glow with a golden light. The runes became engraved into the straps of the watch, shining with the same golden hue, as the energy disappeared entirely.
Trunks was utterly astonished and a bit confused. He had never witnessed such powerful, strange, and fascinating magic before—something he had only seen with the late Supreme Kai in his alternate timeline. But he still didn't understand what had just happened.
"That, my inconsiderate grandson," explained Odin with surprising calm, as if this were nothing unusual to him, "is a key."
"A key?" asked Trunks, even more confused, staring at the watch closely. "But... a key to what?"
"I'm glad you asked," replied Odin, smiling at Trunks' reaction as he leaned closer to examine the magical runes on the watch. "This key opens the doors to the Bifrost. With it, you can travel to both the human world and here."
"But... why?" Trunks asked nervously, still holding the watch, which now seemed far more valuable than he had imagined. Although he didn't know much about Norse mythology, he understood the weight of having something so important in his hands. "Why give something so valuable to a complete stranger? I haven't done anything to deserve it."
"Because you're going to need it," said the god, shrugging nonchalantly as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "With this key, you can travel between the human world and ours, but that's not all. There are other realms in my faction, beyond Asgard."
Trunks frowned; with every answer, more questions arose.
"More realms?" asked the Saiyan, still trying to process the magnitude of what Odin was saying. "And exactly how many realms are there?"
"Nine," answered the All-Father. "Nine realms, each with its own story, its own rules, its own customs, and its own purpose. Asgard is just one of them, but if destiny and your search for knowledge and truth lead you to explore beyond, you will have to learn how to access those realms. The Bifrost can take you to any of them, but to do so, you'll need to learn the runes that control it. Each realm has its own symbol, its own key. Without them, you won't be able to travel beyond Asgard."
Trunks looked at his watch closely. He already knew that what he had received was an extremely valuable object, one that wasn't given to just anyone. He now felt obligated to protect it with care and to wield its power responsibly. He couldn't let it fall into the wrong hands.
"Then, what do I need to do to unlock these runes?" Trunks asked, now fully intrigued by what he had just heard. The Saiyan felt a growing curiosity to learn about those realms Odin spoke of, wondering what secrets they might hold.
Odin looked at him with an enigmatic smile, as if enjoying the young warrior's uncertainty.
"That will depend on you, kid," the Norse god replied, with an expression that indicated he wouldn't be giving away easy answers. Trunks raised an eyebrow, expecting more details, but Odin anticipated his reaction. "What? Don't expect me to solve your life for you. If you want to know how to unlock the runes, you'll have to figure it out on your own. Otherwise, your process of learning will be fruitless."
Trunks remained silent, reflecting on the old man's words. He knew he couldn't expect others to do all the work for him; self-learning was key, something he had learned from Gohan and Shin. If everything came easily to him, he wouldn't grow as a warrior—Vegeta had made that clear through hard training. Besides, Odin had already done his part by giving him such a valuable item. It would be inconsiderate to push for more.
"You're right," Trunks replied, flashing a smile identical to Vegeta's. "I guess I wouldn't be so impressed if everything were too easy, and it wouldn't be exciting either."
"That's the spirit, boy!" Odin replied, pleased with the young warrior's attitude. His gaze softened, as if, for a moment, he had seen something familiar in Trunks. "Good luck finding them. It won't be an easy path, but it will be much more valuable when you achieve it on your own."
The god nodded and then, with a deliberate movement, pointed at Trunks' watch.
"Very well, now I'll explain how to use the key. Pay attention," Odin said in a deep voice as he extended his hand toward Trunks' watch.
Suddenly, the device's screen began to glow with golden light. The Bifrost runes appeared on its surface and began floating like holograms, illuminating the air around them.
"As you can see," Odin continued, pointing at the runes, "these are the roots of the Yggdrasil tree, the tree that connects all realms. What you have before you are the runes of each of those realms."
Trunks watched in fascination, noticing that the watch's screen displayed a total of nine runes, each with a strange and unique symbol. Two of them glowed brightly with vivid colors, while the others remained dim and dormant, as if they were yet to be activated.
"The cyan rune," Odin said, pointing to one of the glowing runes, "belongs to Asgard, my realm. It's the path to here, the kingdom of the Norse gods."
Then, he pointed to the other glowing rune, a deep magenta color.
"And this one," he continued in a serious tone, "is the rune of Midgard, the world of humans. It's the bridge to Earth, the realm where mortals dwell."
Trunks stared intently at the glowing runes on the watch. The energy from both seemed to vibrate in the air, inviting him to choose. He didn't know what to expect, but something inside him felt that this was an important step.
"Choose one?" he asked, a bit hesitant.
"Now, the next step is crucial," Odin replied firmly. "Choose the rune that calls to you. Once you choose it, focus your thoughts on a clear goal, a specific destination, and then let the rune react to your will."
Skeptical yet determined, Trunks reached out toward the magenta rune, the one for Midgard, and closed his eyes to concentrate. He tried to visualize what he needed: Japan, a specific prefecture, the city of Kuoh, the school in that city, the Occult Research Club. He had it clear now.
Suddenly, the runes on his watch began to glow intensely. The magenta rune started emitting a light so bright that it illuminated the surrounding area, and Trunks felt a gentle pull, as if something were opening a space in the air before him.
A deep, resonant sound echoed, and a shimmering golden doorway appeared before them. The portal seemed to be formed by interwoven branches, like an ancient tree, and a faint scent of fresh, ancient wood filled the air.
Odin observed the event with a satisfied smile, pleased that his guest had managed to master the key on the first try.
"That's it," he said in a deep tone. "Now, step through and follow the branches of the tree. Every step you take will bring you closer to where you want to go."
Trunks, still amazed by what was happening, stepped toward the portal. The energy emanating from it was imposing, but at the same time, something inside him felt he had to move forward.
Before entering, he looked back at Odin, who watched him from outside the door with a smile.
"Good luck with your sword, and don't forget what I told you."
Those were the last words Trunks heard from the god before stepping into the portal.
##################################################################
Human World - Occult Research Club.
Meanwhile, in the Occult Research Club facilities, a strange phenomenon began to unfold. Without warning, mysterious roots started emerging from the ground, surprising Rias and the other club members. The roots twisted with an unusual energy, quickly spreading across the floor and forming a tree-like structure that began to take shape rapidly.
"What is this?" asked Rias, completely bewildered as the roots formed an arch in the center of the room.
The others immediately assumed defensive positions, ready to protect their mistress.
The roots continued growing, intertwining and opening into an energy portal that seemed straight out of legend. A blinding light emanated from the center of the arch, and a portal started materializing before them. When the portal was fully formed, someone familiar to them stepped out.
"That was... peculiar," Trunks muttered under his breath, recalling the strange sensation he experienced during his passage through the Bifrost. The branches vanished, as did the collateral damage.
"Ara, ara, look who we have here," said Akeno with a seductive smile, making Trunks feel a bit uncomfortable. Her playful gaze didn't go unnoticed, and it reminded him of a certain overly flirtatious Valkyrie, causing him to quickly avert his eyes.
"I agree, that was quite the peculiar entrance," Rias chimed in, relieved to see that the figure emerging from the portal posed no threat. The other club members also relaxed their stances, relieved it wasn't an enemy.
"It would be appropriate if you let me know beforehand the next time you plan to arrive like this," she added, crossing her arms. Her face showed an ironic smile as the others still looked on expectantly. "Because you certainly surprised me."
The warrior from the future chuckled lightly.
"My apologies," Trunks said, smiling nervously as he scratched the back of his head. He couldn't help but feel uneasy about the relaxed atmosphere, though at the same time, it seemed Rias was lightly scolding him. "Odín-sama didn't tell me that traveling between realms could cause such a commotion... It won't happen again."
"Changing the subject, I'm glad to see you're well," Trunks said politely, offering a slight bow.
"Thank you, I feel the same," Rias replied with a warm smile, appreciating the show of respect from someone as powerful as him. "Well, a promise is a promise."
With a fluid motion, Rias Gremory summoned a magic circle that illuminated the room with a red glow, catching Trunks's attention. It was a spell like those he had seen before, though this one seemed more intricate. According to what Sirzechs and Odin had explained, Nordic and demonic magic shared more in common than he had thought.
As the circle faded into small specks of light, a silver chest appeared, where the sword was supposed to rest.
Groooow!
To Trunks's surprise, a strange sound echoed in the air, resembling the growl of a beast. The warrior from the future frowned, wondering if he had really heard that or if it was just his imagination.
"Ara, as wild as ever," commented Akeno with a half-smile as she placed a hand on her cheek. A rosy blush adorned her face, and she licked her lips in a clear show of excitement. "I like that."
Trunks swallowed hard, feeling a chill run down his spine. Every instinct screamed at him that if he wasn't careful with this girl, she could rob him of his manhood without a second thought. Thankfully, Xenovia wasn't around. She was probably busy with some demonic contract or another task. If the knight were present, the situation would be even more awkward, especially since he could still clearly remember her practically suggesting he deflower her and leave her pregnant.
Asia, standing beside Trunks, took a step back, visibly frightened. Her eyes reflected the fear of what she had just heard, giving the impression that it wasn't a figment of her imagination.
"May I open it?" Trunks asked, cautiously pointing at the chest.
"Go ahead," Rias replied with a solemn gesture. "It is your sword, after all."
"Be careful," Asia warned, looking at Trunks with concern. "It's a very dangerous sword."
Trunks didn't understand what she meant by "dangerous sword." It was a gift from his mother, crafted by her own hands, and it held no particular special properties. Even so, Asia's words lingered in his mind as he crouched to examine the chest with suspicion.
Upon opening it, his confusion dissipated instantly. Although it wasn't a radical change, he noticed a slight shift in the color of the metal. There was no doubt it was his sword. He recognized it immediately from the complex alloy it was made of—something only he knew how to handle. However, as he took it in his hands, something unusual happened.
The sword began emitting a living aura, as if it had a will of its own. Trunks furrowed his brow, slightly unsettled, but he immediately understood what was happening. That familiar sensation, the fierce need for battle emanating from the weapon, threw him off for a moment. But he, an experienced warrior, knew how to deal with such situations. The sword carried the essence of a dragon, and taming it would not be easy.
Without hesitation, Trunks gripped the sword with one hand, determined to subdue it. But what happened next surprised him more than he anticipated.
"Giiiih!" The sword began to vibrate violently, as if trying to break free from his grip, thrashing like a wild animal desperate to escape.
Trunks gritted his teeth and tightened his grip, but the force the sword exerted against him was overwhelming. It caused light cuts on his hands, but he barely flinched. However, the situation puzzled him. The power emanating from the sword was far greater than he had expected.
"Haaaaa!" With a roar, Trunks unleashed his full power, releasing a massive energy wave. His ki exploded with such force that the entire environment shook.
The Gremory group was pushed back by the shockwave. Trunks's power was so immense that they were left breathless, their eyes wide in shock. It was the first time they had seen the warrior from the future unleash his full strength, and the magnitude of his energy was staggering, surpassing even some powerful gods.
The dragon in the Boosted Gear also felt the weight of the power, overwhelmed by the pressure emanating from Trunks. Although it wasn't certain, it seemed as if his energy neared Ophis's level—though that was merely an impression. What was undeniable was that the power was terrifying.
What no one knew was that they were witnessing only a very, very small fraction of his true power.
Trunks channeled all his ki into the sword, immobilizing it instantly. The sword stopped moving, its wild aura completely subdued under the weight of Trunks's energy. The demons present spread their wings to shield themselves from the gusts of wind swirling around the room.
Finally, calm returned. The sword remained still in Trunks's hands, which still gripped it firmly.
"S-sugoi..." thought Issei, swallowing hard in surprise and nervousness.
[You can say that again] the dragon in his mind muttered, equally stunned and slightly nervous. [The power this boy holds is absurd. I advise you not to confront him unnecessarily, unlike that stupid wielder of Albion.]
"I can't understand why he would want to face him," Issei said, confused by the desires of someone supposedly destined to be his rival. It seemed ridiculous even to think about.
[Because he's the kind of person who finds it incredibly fun to throw punches at any strong being he comes across] the Welsh dragon replied. [Even Albion warned him it wouldn't end well, but he doesn't listen.]
"Uff, that was a bit intense," Trunks sighed in relief as he leaned his sword against the ground. There was something in the way he wielded it, as if it were an extension of his own body, something he couldn't easily separate from.
Suddenly, Asia approached timidly, with a worried expression.
"Are you alright, Trunks-san?" The nun asked, noticing the cuts on the warrior from the future's skin. Her eyes filled with concern at seeing the wounds.
"Eh…" Trunks said, surprised by the question. Then he realized the reason behind her concern. "Are you talking about this?" he asked, pointing to the small cuts. They weren't so superficial, nor did they seem to be that noticeable. They looked like small scratches. He didn't even feel them. "Don't worry, they hardly show."
But Asia didn't seem convinced.
"But you're badly hurt, Trunks-san," The former nun gently and delicately took Trunks's arm, noticing the amount of cuts he had. "Please, let me heal you," she insisted, showing deep concern for him.
Trunks, who wasn't used to being treated this way, felt a bit uncomfortable, but at the same time, he was grateful for Asia's kindness. However, he wasn't sure how to respond.
"It's fine, really," he said, trying to downplay the situation, although he couldn't help but blush a little at seeing the concern in Rias's knight.
"You see, I told you it wasn't necessary," Trunks said with a half-smile as he gently patted Asia's head, noticing how her expression softened even more.
Asia, blushing from the gesture, looked at Trunks with a mix of gratitude and shyness. She wasn't used to receiving such affection in that way, and Trunks's gesture made her feel a warm sensation in her chest.
For his part, Trunks felt something deeper as he observed her. Her aura was so gentle and pure, something he rarely encountered. People like Asia were a rarity, a light amidst the darkness. If anything bad were ever to happen, he had no doubt that he would give his life to protect people like her.
But that moment was interrupted when two black-haired girls with glasses (one voluptuous and the other not) barged into the club room, visibly agitated, probably due to the power Trunks had released at that moment.
"What happened here?" Sona asked in a firm voice, but at the same time reflecting a growing concern.
"Sona?"
Rias turned around surprised to see her friend, the student council president, entering the club so upset. There was barely time for the redhead to react before Sona demanded an answer again.
"What happened here?!" Sona repeated more energetically, demanding answers quickly. "When I arrived at school, I could feel an immense power that shook me to the core."
Sona's words made everyone in the room look at the warrior from the future, who, now with his head down and a slightly embarrassed expression, had no doubt that his power had caused the disturbance. The same intense presence that had filled the room made it seem like something else was going on, maybe something much bigger than just a simple confrontation.
The other demon accompanying Sona studied the young blue-haired man carefully, unable to believe that someone like him could manifest such an unreal amount of power.
"You're that guy from that time," Tsubaki said, somewhat surprised to see the boy again, but also remembering the incident where he had helped them defeat Kokabiel.
Upon hearing Tsubaki, Sona went silent for a moment. Then, her eyes narrowed as she realized that, indeed, the young man in front of them was the same one who had caused all this ruckus.
"Wait! Does this mean you caused this?!" Sona exclaimed, her tone now filled with disbelief.
Trunks, aware that he had to explain himself, nodded slowly, almost apprehensively. He wasn't sure why, but he felt that the youngest daughter of Doctor Abbader was someone too strict and inflexible, someone who made it clear from a mile away that she didn't tolerate any mistakes or slips. Sona's piercing gaze gave him an unsettling certainty: he felt that, at any moment, he could receive a monumental lecture.
As incredible as it seemed, Trunks was more afraid of Sona than Serafall.
"Calm down a little, Sona," Rias intervened, defending the young blue-haired man. "I assure you there's a reasonable explanation for all of this. You don't need to worry so much."
Sona didn't seem convinced, and she frowned when she heard her friend's nonchalant tone.
"Are you serious, Rias?!" She asked incredulously. "For a moment I thought something serious had happened. I thought someone really problematic had come again to cause chaos in the city," murmured Sona, adjusting her glasses with an annoyed gesture. "And you're telling me to calm down?! To ignore it?!"
"I can explain if you'll let me."
Sona hesitated at first, but before she could respond, Issei jumped in to defend Trunks.
"That's right, please let him speak, Kaichō!" Exclaimed Issei, looking at Sona with some nervousness.
Feeling the gaze of the others, Sona had no choice but to relent. Although the blue-haired guy had caused quite a stir, she understood that she had to let him apologize for what happened, or at least give his version of events.
After a brief conversation, Sona concluded that the matter was, in fact, somewhat ridiculous. She couldn't believe that a magic sword, which apparently had no consciousness or any other special feature, had forced the young man to unleash so much power just to "tame" it. It seemed like the warrior from the future had no common sense whatsoever, or simply didn't understand the word "discretion." After all, such a brutal display of power could have caused an alarm among humans who were unaware of the supernatural world.
"I understand that maybe in your world things are done differently or that you have different customs," Sona said, her voice now calmer, but still maintaining that neutral and serious tone that always characterized her. "But as you can see here, there are rules and protocols we must follow in order to coexist with humans."
Her gaze shifted towards Rias, who had been observing the scene with indifference. Sona's eyes narrowed in slight suspicion.
"And, by the way, Rias, you should have explained all of this from the start."
Rias didn't seem particularly affected by her friend's reprimand. After all, she felt that sometimes Sona exaggerated with those matters of rules and procedures. For her, the most important thing was the relationship they built among themselves, not the strict rules.
"But the blame was completely mine. So I offer my sincerest apologies," Trunks responded, bowing forward in a gesture of respect. As he did so, he realized it would be quite a challenge to adapt to the way of life in this place. "I assure you it won't happen again."
Sona blinked, clearly surprised. She didn't understand how someone of that level of power could bow to her like that. Despite her vast experience, it left her bewildered. She couldn't fathom how such a formidable being could show such humility before someone thousands of times weaker and inferior, like herself. However, her thoughts were quickly interrupted by a sensation that caused her slight discomfort: Trunks' presence not only evoked various emotions, but it was also filled with a palpable sincerity that further disoriented her.
A similar feeling was shared by Tsubaki. It wasn't the first time Trunks had shown a respectful attitude, but seeing someone of his caliber behave this way seemed so... unreal. His power could have easily placed him in a position where everything around him would be worthy of his contempt, where he could have adopted a disgustingly narcissistic attitude that would allow him to exceed any limits. Yet, Trunks wasn't just polite; he was genuinely humble. This not only confused her, but it also surpassed her expectations. Deep down, the idea that someone with that power could be so respectful and sincere filled her with both a sense of unease and fascination.
"W-well... as long as you u-understand, that's more than enough," Sona replied, trying to maintain her composure, but the truth was that she was a bundle of nerves. Her fogged-up glasses gave her away.
"Kaicho?" Tsubaki murmured, concerned about her master's condition.
"I'm leaving," the heir of the Sitri clan said, ignoring her queen and adjusting her glasses to appear more professional. "Please, don't do anything inappropriate."
Once she left, the others let out a collective sigh of relief, relieved that the situation didn't escalate. Trunks understood that Sona was important not only within the school but also in the Underworld, as she was the heir to her clan. Given her ability to maintain order with a firm hand, she had the qualities of a leader, much more than her sister. Although he found her very rigid and strict.
"Don't mind her, Sona likes to follow the rules to the letter, but that's just her nature," Rias commented, patting Trunks' shoulder with a friendly smile. "I trust it'll be easy for you to handle her."
Trunks nodded with a slight smile, feeling somewhat relieved by Rias's words. Sona's intensity was something he still had to learn to handle.
"So, did you like how your sword turned out?" the redhead asked with an expectant smile.
The future warrior took a moment to respond.
"It's magnificent, more than I imagined," the young man replied, his face showing genuine gratitude as he bowed respectfully. "Thank you so much."
"Come on, you don't need to be so formal. After all, it's just a gesture I did out of goodwill," Rias said, pointing to herself with her thumb, proudly showing off the achievement of her clan.
"And I appreciate it," Trunks responded, once again thanking her for repairing his sword. "I'll be in Midgard for a while, or at least that's what Odin-sama calls the human world. I think the other pantheons call it by different names. Anyway, it's not really important. If you need anything I can help with, don't hesitate to call me."
After saying that, the future warrior bid his farewells with a military salute. In a way, he wanted to satisfy the curiosity that had been eating away at him since his talk with Odin; he wanted to know more, learn more, and see everything from a different perspective. He longed to expand his horizons.
"Wait, Aniki," Issei called out, causing Trunks to turn with a confused look for being called that way. "I want to ask you a favor."
"Well," Trunks replied, scratching his cheek a little hesitantly. "If it's within my abilities, I'll gladly do it."
Issei swallowed nervously, unsure of how to address him respectfully. Finally, he gathered the courage to ask the future warrior for what he wanted, remembering the immense power Trunks had demonstrated when he defeated Kokabiel and eliminated the Hakuryuukō with a single blow.
"PLEASE, TRAIN ME!" Issei begged energetically, performing an exaggerated bow. "I'm still very weak, and I want to become a man worthy of Rias-Buchō and be able to protect all my friends. So please, I beg you: MAKE ME YOUR DISCIPLE!"
Rias, upon hearing this, was left speechless. A smile of happiness illuminated her face. The idea that her beloved brown-haired pawn wanted to grow stronger to be an excellent servant filled her with joy, and deep down, she hoped Trunks would accept training her pawn.
Trunks pondered the proposition. From what he understood, Issei was the bearer of a weapon capable of killing gods, and his sealed soul was Ddraig, a being of immense power. However, despite the vast strength Issei could potentially possess, Trunks noticed that the young man still lacked the experience needed to fully harness such power. At first glance, it seemed that Issei still had a long way to go in terms of learning and training, but something in his attitude and determination told Trunks that the boy had latent potential that, if polished correctly, would make him one of the most powerful beings in the world.
However, doubt began to form in his mind. He had commited many failures, and he certainly felt unworthy of being someone's master...
"I... I'm not so sure," Trunks replied, scratching the back of his neck, making Issei swallow nervously. "I've never trained anyone before. I wouldn't know what to teach you." Seeing Issei's disappointed expression, he added, "But maybe you can find someone more qualified than me in your fighting style."
Issei felt disappointment upon hearing those words, but he wouldn't give up. He stayed in position, not lifting his head, not breaking the bow. If necessary, he would prostrate himself on the ground.
"PLEASE, I BEG YOU!" Issei insisted, and Trunks could hear the desperation in his voice. "You're someone very strong and completely capable of teaching me many useful things. I know, we all saw how you saved us from Kokabiel and how you dispatched the other Celestial Dragon's bearer with a single blow."
"W-well, it's just that I…"
"PLEASE, ANIKI, I BEG YOU!" Suddenly, the brown-haired boy knelt quickly, and with a gesture of complete submission, he leaned forward to perform a dogeza (2).
"WAIT, WAIT!" Trunks, alarmed, grabbed his shoulder to prevent him from bowing completely. "You don't need to bow like that so easily. I understand your desperation kid, but you should save that generous show of respect for someone who truly deserves it."
Rias and the others watched in awe and surprise as Trunks finally accepted Issei's request. The humility of the future warrior was something unprecedented, given his overwhelming power. If someone with his level of strength were anyone else, their ego would be through the roof. However, Trunks had demonstrated modesty and a sense of duty that completely contrasted with expectations. For that reason, Issei longed to be his disciple.
"If that means making you change your mind, I'll do it as many times as necessary," the brown-haired boy insisted.
Trunks felt somewhat overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation. It was clear that Issei's genuine desire to improve touched something within him, as it reminded him of how he had asked Gohan to train him because he wanted to be strong to defeat the androids.
However, despite how admirable Issei's determination was, Trunks couldn't help but think of how complicated everything was becoming. First, a selfish dragon goddess claimed to be his soulmate; then, a reckless thug who wanted to kill him declared himself his greatest rival; and now, the bearer of the Welsh Dragon wanted to be his disciple. The worst part was that all three were dragons.
How many more dragons would he have to deal with?
He sighed deeply, scratching the back of his neck, feeling a mix of discomfort and resignation. Although he didn't say it, he knew deep down he couldn't reject Issei's request. Something in his gaze, in his conviction, had convinced him.
"Alright," he said finally, a slight resigned smile on his face. "I guess it's part of the life of a martial artist to teach everything he knows to leave his legacy in the world…"
Issei's face lit up instantly, his emotion shining in his eyes as he heard the words of the future warrior.
"Really?!" The brown-haired boy exclaimed, almost in disbelief. Happiness reflected in every word, and his expression went from doubt to sheer euphoria.
Trunks nodded, now aware that he was stepping into more complicated territory than he had imagined. But at the same time, his heart felt a strange satisfaction seeing the enthusiasm of his new disciple.
"Although it will be very complicated, both for me and for you," he warned, with a serious tone but also a slight smile.
He knew it wouldn't be easy for either of them, but he was also sure that if he managed to teach Issei something valuable, it would be worth it, and that he would be passing on his late master's teachings to a new generation.
Gohan's legacy would live on.
With one last look at the Gremory clan and a brief farewell gesture, Trunks headed toward the door. Happy and grateful, Issei watched as the future warrior walked away. His heart was pounding. After all, he wasn't just trying to get stronger to become more powerful. He also needed to overcome his own insecurity and learn how to wield his power in the best way possible. But his will to become stronger, to live up to the expectations of others, knew no bounds.
End of chapter
Clarifications
1.- Angrboða is known as the "Messenger of Pain" due to her role as the mother of three of the most feared beings in mythology: Fenrir, the wolf that will devour Odin during Ragnarök; Jörmungandr, the serpent that surrounds the world and will poison Thor in the final battle; and Hel, the goddess of the underworld who rules over the dead. These children, conceived with Loki, are directly associated with chaos, destruction, and suffering that will accompany the end of the world.
Her title is related to her role in the tragic fate that hangs over the gods and the world during Ragnarök.
2.- Dogeza is a form of showing extreme submission or making a very deep apology, generally used in situations of great respect, remorse, or humiliation. It is a posture of complete respect and humility, where the person kneels, bows forward, and touches the ground with their forehead.
