After the meeting I'd arranged with Sona, I returned home. I was helping Haruka and Suzuka pack their bags. Their families only agreed to let them move in with me in Kuoh because it was far more comfortable than the refugee shelters the authorities offered to people who'd lost their homes in the battle. But Nagano was going to be rebuilt, and I knew our time together was coming to an end.
I could tell they wanted to go back. I could tell Haruka was looking forward to spending time with Suzuka at school, like two normal besties.
Suzuka, on the other hand, would probably feel guilty whenever she thought about Aika, like Haruka was some sort of replacement.
Even though it wasn't true.
Even though Haruka's been my stalker and Suzuka my first friend in this world—and my only online friend from my old one, as it turned out.
If anything, I was the one who stitched them together. And I was glad they got along.
But I could read a lot of things. And sometimes I wished my insight wasn't so sharp.
As I moved boxes around, my phone rang.
Azazel.
I picked up.
"Yo, Kokonoe, what's good?" The Governor General's voice came from the other end, as casual as ever.
"Nothing much," I shrugged. "Just helping the girls pack. You got any news?"
"Nagano's rebuilt. Civilians are moving back." He said, briefly, before pausing, and the weight in his tone made me pause too.
"But… the Oblivion Syndicate? They've got full control of the city. They've infiltrated the population."
I froze mid-lift, the box suddenly heavier in my hands. "Figures," I muttered. "Nothing ever stays simple."
The words settled over me like a shadow. Nagano was safe in appearance, but the threat had moved quietly, invisibly.
It didn't take long to connect the dots. If the power vacuum left by Rias' downfall was filled by Akeno in the ORC… what about the one in Nagano?
There was a time when I asked myself that, but now I knew the answer. It was filled by the same organization that reduced the city to ashes.
Great.
Hero of Nagano, they called me. But I didn't save the city. I just showed them a genocide wouldn't go unopposed… so they switched to a political takeover instead.
And I was powerless to stop it.
"Is there anything we can do about them?," I asked.
Azazel clicked his tongue. "That's the problem. I tracked down their underground headquarters and sent a team in to wipe it out."
He paused, irritation slipping through his usual laziness. "They haven't reported back."
Yeah. Losing personnel clearly rubbed him the wrong way.
"And the Fallen I dispatched earlier?" he continued, tone flattening. "They're no longer responding either. Last signal we got suggests they've switched sides."
I exhaled slowly, the implication settling like lead in my chest.
That could only mean one thing.
"…LaVey is here," I muttered.
Azazel didn't deny it. "Looks that way," he said. "Which means rushing in blindly would be a spectacular way to get people killed."
I nodded grimly.
Yeah.
Couldn't argue with that.
"And our intel suggests they have dispatched a host of four thousand soldiers… to Kuoh," he said, grimly.
Fuck.
Four thousand.
That was four times the force they'd used to wipe Nagano off the map.
So LaVey finally stopped playing around.
The irony burned. The moment I started making real moves—forcing rival factions into the same room, dragging enemies into an uneasy alliance—he was already steps ahead of me.
Of course he was.
I let out a bitter laugh. "This is ridiculous," I muttered. "Anton LaVey made a cult."
I looked up, jaw tight.
"Gábor?" I continued quietly. "He made a superhuman Hezbollah."
Not a movement.
Not an ideology.
A weapon.
"Worse," Azazel said over the line. I could hear typing in the background. "Our intel's still tracking them, but I don't like the trend."
There was a brief pause—paper shuffling, a muted sigh.
"Here's the problem," he continued. "Unlike Devils or Angels, the Grigori don't have a clean way to boost our numbers. No reincarnation system or contracts. Nothing."
Another pause. His tone flattened like a building struck by a missile.
"The only way we gain manpower is when Angels fall… or through crossbreeding with other species. And that second option?" A quiet scoff. "It's unstable and it causes more problems than it solves."
"Unstable, huh?" I said. "This about Himejima Akeno?"
There was a very brief silence on the line.
"…Huh," Azazel said, genuinely caught off guard. "That's not something I expected you to know."
I leaned back, phone pressed to my ear.
"She didn't tell me, if that's what you're thinking."
Another pause, longer this time.
"Then how?" he asked. "Because that information isn't public. Not even inside Kuoh."
"I guessed," I said simply. "Her aura's off. Not fully devil, but not human either. And the way she reacts to y'all? It lines up."
Azazel let out a low chuckle, half impressed, half annoyed. "Tch. Figures you'd notice."
I heard him shift, maybe sitting down.
"…Yeah," he said after a beat. "Akeno Himejima is half Fallen Angel. Her father is one of us."
So I was right.
"She doesn't like you much," I said dryly.
"That's putting it mildly," Azazel replied.
"From her point of view, the Grigori took her father, then failed to save her mother. Can't say I blame her."
He sighed.
"That's exactly what I meant by unstable. Crossbreeding works sometimes. Other times it leaves scars that don't heal. Power without balance. People caught between sides."
I stared at the ceiling.
"Guess that makes two of us," I muttered.
Azazel went quiet for a moment, then spoke again—more serious now.
"Be careful around her," he said. "Not because she's dangerous. But because she's been hurt. And people like that don't forget."
"I know," I said. "If people could forget, I'd be able to move on from all the shit I did in my past life."
"Listen," Azazel continued, voice calm. "A few packs of crack sold to school kids doesn't make you Pablo Escobar."
I blinked.
"What?"
He sighed like he was dealing with a child.
"You're acting like you've got some kind of reputation," he said. "Like you're some big underground dealer who's been pulling strings behind the scenes."
I opened my mouth to retort—
—but he cut me off.
"Newsflash," he said. "You're a reincarnate. That doesn't automatically make you dangerous. It just makes you unpredictable."
A pause.
"And I know what you're thinking," he said, voice softer now. "You're thinking that because you survived once, you can survive anything."
I let the silence stretch for a moment, then finally spoke.
"Nope," I said quietly. "That's where you're wrong."
I could hear him blinking, like he didn't expect that.
"Maybe I don't want to survive," I continued. "Maybe I'm just… tired of surviving."
For a second, the air on the other end of the line went still.
Azazel's voice came back, a little gentler than before.
"You're too hard on yourself, Kokonoe," he said. "You act like you're a monster that needs to be punished for existing."
I swallowed, unable to find an answer. Just a fraction of a second.
Then I cleared my throat and shifted back into the part of me that kept moving.
"Anyway, sob story aside. I've laid the groundwork for Kuoh's defence," I said, voice steady again. "I aligned the factions. I got them to stop fighting each other long enough to face the real threat."
A pause.
Azazel's voice returned—this time with a hint of approval buried under the usual sarcasm.
"That's… actually impressive," he said. "You managed to do what most people can't. You turned enemies into an alliance."
He paused again, like he was deciding whether to say more.
"Don't get used to praise," he added, dryly. "But… good work."
Then he hung up.
The line went dead.
And I knew, I had a lot of work to do from here.
Haruka and Suzuka stopped in the doorway. I was so absorbed in the call with Azazel that I didn't notice them standing there.
"How much did you hear?" I asked, once I caught their stares.
"Everything," Haruka replied flatly.
Suzuka swallowed. "So we're finally getting our city back… and Oblivion's already inside the civilian population."
She said it quietly, like she was still trying to convince herself it was real.
"Yeah," I said. "For now, we defend Kuoh. And I promise you—after this… we'll free Nagano."
Haruka's hands curled into fists. She nodded once, jaw tight.
"…You better," she said. "I'm not letting them take it twice."
Suzuka looked down, fingers twisting together. When she spoke, her voice was quiet but firm.
"I don't want revenge," she said. "I just want to go home."
"You will," I said. "I won't let them claim it."
Suzuka stepped forward and hugged me—brief, tight. Haruka hesitated, then joined in awkwardly.
For a moment, we just stood there.
Kuoh came first.
But Nagano wasn't finished yet.
Kiba texted me on LINE with the exact coordinates of where the search party went looking for the Excaliburs.
That's where we were headed.
When we arrived, somewhere near an abandoned church at the outskirts of Kuoh, we found the aforementioned search party: Hyoudou, Kiba, Koneko, Saji—and the church girls.
The ORC and the church members made sense.
But Genshirou Saji?
What the hell was he doing here?
Anyway, I didn't have time to think about that.
I spotted Freed Seelzen—the creepy priest who'd run away like a rat the last time I saw him. He was locked in a brutal fight with Kiba while everyone else watched from the sidelines.
"Oh?" the lunatic said when he noticed me. "It's that ice freak from before," he chuckled.
Great. He remembered me.
"I heard you got reeeal strong," he went on, dragging his words like nails on glass. "And that you're no longer a devil. I would loooove to have a fight to the death with youuuu~."
My ears almost started bleeding.
Kiba, shut this guy up. Please.
"I'm your opponent," Kiba said.
He took advantage of Freed's momentary distraction—his attention still on me—and lunged forward, his blade flashing as it cut across the priest's arm.
Freed didn't even flinch.
Instead, he slowly dragged his tongue across his lips, eyes shining with something twisted.
"After I'm done with Mr. Holy Sword Devil User here," he sang, turning his gaze directly on me, "you're next~."
He rolled his neck with an exaggerated crack.
"I'm being a little outnumbered here…" he muttered, then grinned. "Let's chaaange that~."
He whistled.
The air warped.
In the next instant, several Fallen Angels materialized around him.
So these were the Fallens LaVey brainwashed into submission.
"T-That's… Yuma-chan…" Hyoudou muttered, his voice tense.
Right.
The bitch who killed him.
Yeah. What a joke.
"We meet again, Ise-kun~," she chirped like a little bird, forcing a sugary smile. "Or should I say… you lowly devil?"
Hyoudou barked, looking like he was about to throw hands with this chick.
Ice formed instantly in my hand, twisting into a curved boomerang.
I flicked my wrist.
The shard cut through the air and slammed into her wing, sending her stumbling back mid-air.
"She's yours," I said, looking at Hyoudou.
"You bet!" he roared back.
Hyoudou shot me a thumbs-up, Boosted Gear already glowing crimson on his left arm, the familiar chant rising from his throat.
He looked ready to throw himself at Raynare.
Well, good luck, kid. What can I say.
Behind Freed, a swarm of Fallen Angels poured into the church, wings slicing through dust and shattered glass.
I stepped forward, ice crawling along my forearms like gauntlets. Haruka and Suzuka moved with me without a word—instinct, trust, the kind of sync you only earn after bleeding together.
Kiba flashed past me, Sword Birth forging twin blades that carved through armor and feathers alike. Xenovia matched him stride for stride, Durandal blazing in arcs of holy light that split another Fallen clean in half.
Saji was there too—Vritra's Absorbtion Line flickering as he caught a Fallen mid-air and smashed him into the church floor hard enough to crack stone.
Koneko delivered a brutal kick, her raw strength sending a Fallen flying into the wall with a wet crunch.
Haruka didn't hesitate. Ice and flame spiraled around her in twin helixes. She launched both at once—the ice spears freezing wings mid-dive, the flames following and shattering them into glittering fragments.
Suzuka raised her hand. Wind howled through the broken stained-glass windows, sharpening into invisible blades. Feathers and tendons split apart; three Fallen spiraled down, only to be finished by Kiba and Xenovia.
I exhaled, frost curling from my lips.
A Fallen dove at me, spear of light extended.
I sidestepped, grabbed his wrist, and froze it from the inside out. Bone cracked. He screamed. I drove an ice spike through his chest and yanked it free before the body hit the floor.
Another came from the side.
Haruka intercepted—flame whip snapping around his throat, ice flash-freezing his head. She yanked once.
The head popped off like a cork.
Suzuka's wind caught a third mid-air, spun him violently, then slammed him into the ceiling. He didn't get up.
The church became a storm—lightning, fire, ice, wind, holy swords, dragon aura.
And at its center, Kiba and Freed still clashed, blades moving so fast they left afterimages.
Hyoudou charged past me toward Raynare, Boosted Gear roaring.
I cracked my neck.
Enough playing defense.
I raised a hand.
Ice surged outward in a wide arc—cold, merciless.
Five Fallen froze mid-step, wings locked, mouths open in silent screams.
I clenched my fist.
They shattered.
For half a second, the ORC paused.
Haruka grinned beside me, flames licking at her lips.
Suzuka exhaled softly, wind settling around us like a shield.
Freed finally looked at me again.
His grin widened.
"Ohhh, yes," he purred. "This is going to be fuuuun."
I rolled my eyes.
"Nelutu, hai la tati," I muttered under my breath before whistling.
Ice surged from my arm, taking shape in a heartbeat.
The Freezing Archaeopteryx burst into existence, wings unfolding with a crack of frost and wind. I grabbed onto his back and mounted him in one smooth motion.
Behind me, I heard the collective shock.
"No way?! Bro can fly on that thing?!," Saji exclaimed like an excited school girl.
"It's an ice bird…," Xenovia said, stunned.
I didn't bother turning around. Nelu beat his wings once, sending shards of ice that scattered across the battlefield.
Then Hyoudou started talking to his arm.
The Boosted Gear began glowing green.
"What? I can fly too?" he asked, genuinely stunned.
I blinked and looked back at him.
"…Who are you talking to?"
A voice echoed from the Boosted Gear.
[Greetings, ice user. My name is Ddraig—the Welsh Dragon. It is rare to see a devil break his Evil Piece. I will be watching your growth with interest.]
…
Okay.
Just when I thought the world couldn't get any crazier.
I stood there, trying to process what I'd just heard.
Then another voice surfaced in my mind—pulled from memories that didn't belong to this life.
"Our national symbol is called Y Ddraig Goch. The red dragon on our flag," Alwenna told me once, puffing her chest with pride.
"That's why they can keep their Union Jack rubbish in their ugly halls. Wales doesn't need England's permission to exist," she'd added, her voice sharp with that familiar Welsh contempt for their neighbors.
The pieces clicked together.
…No way.
I slowly turned my gaze back to Hyoudou's arm.
I wasn't just talking to some random sacred gear.
I was talking to that dragon.
The red dragon on the flag of Wales.
My lips parted slightly.
"Cymru am Byth, bro," I muttered, genuinely stunned.
From inside the Boosted Gear, the dragon let out a deep, amused laugh.
Meanwhile, Hyoudou completely lost it.
"I have no idea what you guys are talking about…," he said.
Not that it mattered.
Kiba's Sword Birth carved through the Fallen Angels in blinding arcs, blades flashing with every step. Suzuka's wind followed, slicing wings and limbs mid-air, while Haruka's ice pinned enemies in place before shattering them apart.
The church girls moved with ruthless precision, Excalibur fragments tearing through flesh and bone alike.
And me?
I had Nelu shoot icicles at Freed.
One pierced his thigh.
Another nailed his calf.
A third slammed into his knee.
The lunatic staggered, then collapsed flat on the ground with a curse that sounded more amused than angry.
Then, an old man emerged from the church ruins.
Kiba froze mid-swing, eyes widening in pure hate. Xenovia gripped Durandal tighter, her voice a low growl:
"Valper Galilei…," the two of them said in unison.
So this was him.
The madman Kiba talked about. The architect behind the Holy Sword experiments.
I studied the old man quietly.
Honestly?
He looked less like a scientist and more like a walking corpse.
Even Ion Iliescu had more life in him.
The old man adjusted his glasses, looking at Kiba with clinical interest.
"Ah... Sword Birth, the Sacred Gear that creates demonic swords. Splendid. Depending on the user's skill, it can exhibit unparalleled power."
He turned his gaze toward me.
"…So this isn't the standard Freezing Archaeopteryx," he said softly. "It's a mutated variant… how interesting."
His eyes gleamed with quiet obsession.
"The mana has adapted to the user's will. The creature's core resonates directly with your intent—allowing cryokinesis on a level far beyond its original parameters."
A faint smile crossed his lips.
"…Fascinating."
Creepy. This geezer is creepy as fuck.
"Valper Galilei, Freed Seelzen," Xenovia stepped forward, as she gripped Durandal tighter. "You heretics will die here."
He turned to Freed, tone matter-of-fact.
"Freed, control the Excalibur properly. Don't let it control you. Use it as an extension of your will."
Freed laughed, gripping his Excalibur fragment tighter.
The blade stabilized — his swings suddenly faster, sharper.
Kiba snarled, lunging again — but Freed parried effortlessly now, laughing.
Valper smiled faintly.
"We'll meet again soon. The fused Excalibur isn't ready yet."
Freed's hand shot to his pocket, a teleportation stone glowing faintly.
"Bye-bye~!" he giggled like a school girl.
Nah. Not today.
"Suzuka. Now!" I roared.
The reincarnated French girl obeyed instantly. A razor-sharp tornado slammed into the two, ripping Freed's teleportation stone from his grasp as they crashed against the wall.
I climbed off Nelu, the icy Archaeopteryx dissolving inside of my arm.
"Unbelievable."
Valper burst into laughter, completely unaware of how close I already was.
"This girl… an elemental Spirit. Human, yet not. They were said to exist centuries ago—mere myths, buried in ancient scripts and forbidden records—"
His words died mid-sentence as my foot crashed into his mouth.
He staggered back, choking.
Suzuka shivered beside me, her eyes fixed on him with undisguised contempt, while the others watched in awe.
I grasped her hand; the moment our fingers touched, her trembling stopped.
"You know," I said quietly, "moderating all those TikToks about Palestine… watching children die in Gaza…"
My gaze hardened.
"I've always wanted to slam my foot into Benjamin Netanyahu's face."
I paused, staring him down.
"Guess another child murderer will do just fine."
I sighed, still holding Suzuka's hand as Haruka gave her a gentle nudge.
"I'm not here to preach who's right or wrong in this fucked-up world, it's just…" I swallowed, forcing the tears back. "It's revolting. When the systems fail to punish criminals… and tell their victims they can't get revenge. That's why…"
I turned to Kiba.
"You know what you have to do."
He didn't answer.
He simply moved.
In an instant, he dashed forward, a blade formed of equal holy light and demonic shadow in his hand.
"Valper Galilei," Kiba said, his eyes burning with hatred.
His voice wasn't loud.
It was barely above a whisper.
"In the name of my comrades…"
He raised his sword.
"I sentence you to die."
Then, his sword slammed into the old man's chest. Blood spilled as Valper's eyes went lifeless.
Kiba kneeled on the ground, hot tears spilling from his eyes.
Koneko placed a hand on his shoulder, her gaze gentle and understanding as it rested on him.
"Yuuto-senpai…"
I didn't interfere. This wasn't my place.
In the meantime, Hyoudou completely crushed that Raynare chick, or whatever the fuck her name was.
She hit the ground hard, wings broken, light spear flickering out in her trembling hand.
Blood streaked her face, soaking her dark hair. She looked up at him — wide-eyed, desperate, all the smug cruelty gone.
"Please… Issei… I-I didn't mean—"
Her voice cracked, small and pathetic.
"I was just following orders… I never wanted—"
Hyoudou stood over her, Boosted Gear still glowing crimson on his arm, steam rising from his skin. His eyes were flat. No rage. No smirk. Just cold.
"I couldn't save Asia that time…" he said, voice unusually low for him, almost a whisper. "So now, I'll make sure you never hurt her again."
Raynare scrambled back, heels scraping stone.
"No—no wait—!"
He raised his fist.
The Boosted Gear flared once — a single, sharp pulse of dragon aura.
Then he brought it down.
The impact echoed through the ruined church like a thunderclap.
Raynare's body jerked once, then went still.
Silence.
Even Saji watched him like he just lost his mind. And maybe he did.
Irina looked the most devastated, as if she were still trying to understand how her childhood friend could kill so easily.
"Ise-kun…" she whispered, her voice trembling. "You've really… changed."
Hyoudou's eyes were downcast.
"That bitch…" he muttered, his voice shaking. "She killed me. She killed Asia. There was no way I could've just let her walk away."
This dense pervert just got his girlfriend back safely AND avoided bloodshed while I was... committing a massacre…
The memory of those thoughts, the ones I had when I heard she escaped, came back to tear into me. Guess… not anymore.
I'm sorry, Hyoudou. I never wanted you to know what it feels like to have blood on your hands.
"Did you idiots forget about me?" Freed's voice rang out, breaking me from my thoughts.
He tried to teleport again. Bad move. I brought my foot down on his hand just as his fingers closed around the crystal.
"GYAAAA—! You damn ice freak!" he shrieked, half-laughing through the pain. "That hurts, you know! Don't you have any respect for a man of God?"
"Don't call yourself a man of God," Xenovia snapped. "You're nothing but a heretic."
"Yeah," Irina said softly, almost childlike. "A man of God doesn't serve Fallen Angels."
Just as they said that, two magic circles appeared, glowing as they formed on the ground. Akeno and Sona stepped out onto the battlefield.
"And, as usual, leaders show up late," I yawned, unimpressed.
Sona pushed her glasses up and looked around. The ground was cracked, the air still buzzing with magic, and several enemies were down.
Her frown deepened.
"You handled this faster than expected," she said plainly, almost dispassionately.
Akeno glanced around too, then smiled. "Ara ara~ looks like we missed something fun." A bit of lightning sparked around her hand as her eyes settled on the damage.
"You missed the warmup," I said, flatly.
Sona turned back to me. "This fight should've taken much longer," she said, clearly annoyed.
"But it didn't~" Akeno replied, tilting her head as she looked at me. "Did you do all of this?"
I didn't answer. The battlefield said enough.
Sona sighed. "We'll talk about this later. For now, secure the area."
Akeno chuckled. "Next time, try not to finish everything before we get here, okay?"
I shrugged. "No promises."
Once the smoke settled, I spoke, my voice flat.
"This isn't over. The Oblivion Syndicate is closing in on Kuoh with a force four times larger than what me and the girls faced in Nagano."
As if on cue, an explosion ripped through the center of town.
They're… already here.
Whoever planned this—LaVey, or the rebels from Grigori—knew exactly what they were getting into.
"Fuck are y'all waiting for?" I shouted, incredulous.
"Let's go!"