9. Remission
When Anos wakes the next morning, it is because of the small rays of light particles that meet his closed eyes through the perforation of the window.
He brushes the covers off and magic lightly washes over him -- he's clothed, and already stepping out of his room. Breakfast is quick, and after some time, Anos is out of the house.
When the door shuts behind his person, he wastes no time in producing his Magic Eyes of Far-sight. His vision now spans the entirety of Kuoh in terms of range. When he has found what he's looking for, he permits himself to smile for the first time since the sun has marked this new day.
The fallen angels really were adorable. To think they have members in their faction even older than him, yet, they insult their own experience by moving so predictably. It is almost worth the laugh.
In any case, it looks like Anos needs to drop by the school again. Give the devils a location, and of course they'll go looking. That'll take care of both the dead-end leads they might have on the fallen and the dealings with the church's involvement. And Anos will have been the one to lead them to their enemies.
This could be done no later than today. The ORC opens its doors even on the weekends which works perfectly well for him.
To secure trust, one must be a reliable and relatively dependable ally, this opportunity gives him the direct agency to be relied upon and depended on.
It would be the magnanimous thing to do. Which is why the walk to the school is faster this time; he has no desire to meander at his occasional turtles pace.
Unsurprisingly, Anos quickly reaches the academy after some time. He feels the devil's unholy magical ward usually around the front entrance, just past the gate, as well as every corner in and out of the building.
The design and purpose are twofold: detect any arcane existence that so happens to pass through, and alert the devils in tandem.
To assume the devils do not have such measures in place is to assume they are fools. They aren't, but relative to Anos, the difference in intelligence is incomparable.
It is in that same reason that he's brushed this specific ward many times and it's failed to detect any magical presence from him. To the devils this ward is the perfect example of inconspicuous magic ability. To Anos, it is too obvious and far too traceable.
This time, he gives them a speck of magic and a soundless signal picks up. He's expecting a devil being there to greet him within the time it takes to set it off. He's right.
The first person to meet Anos is Akeno. She looks surprised, but the face she has is of one that doesn't mind.
"Ah, Anos," Akeno does not quite fully diminish her pleasant surprise. She's never made it a particularly habit to hide how she's feeling around him, "Good morning."
"Good morning," Anos replies. The two catch much attention by the simple greeting.
There are a few students around for the handful of clubs that remain open passed the weekdays. And none of them have ever seen Anos come by these hours before. No doubt are some eager to listen in on them. And though they are harmless, and much more importantly, clueless, the interaction before them needs to be natural.
"Now that you're here, I recall Buchou wanting to speak with you, something about joining a club, yes?" Akeno asks with a hand to the cheek and delivered with a poise that can turn heads. That much is obvious when it literally does.
It's the usual, hardly worth much consideration; it would only be worthy of any if they weren't looking at Akeno. But they are so Anos moves things along.
"How right you are," Anos says, the famous smirk on display— one female watching actually trips over her own feet. They'll learn to be subtle someday.
Anos had come to understand that being a student was grounds for gossip and the strong acts of idiocy.
"If you wouldn't mind, follow me." Akeno remarks and Anos nods after she gives the gesture to walk with her.
When they take a turn into an empty hallway, Akeno is all too curious, but she can't be too direct now. It was a little game they played: try to goad him on, fail, try again. Some would call it one sided banter, Akeno calls it just another Tuesday— only it was a Saturday.
"I could take a guess as to why you're here." Her voice, radiant like daybreak, "but hearing it from you sounds better."
"Just needed to pass a message on with Rias, and Sitri if she's around. It won't take long. It concerns the fallen angels."
Anos marks the very brief stupor in her eyes, and subsequently, the rest of the walk passes on in silence.
—————
Raynare has been a creature of untruth for far longer than most languages had letters. Be that as it may, as of this moment, her wits have truly abandoned her.
It takes a lot to phase someone as ancient as her, but this vile excuse of human garbage does it seamlessly; Freed Sellzen, an exorcist whose madness is best measured by the number of corpses he has left in his wake— and then some.
Humans, whenever she has had to work with them did she need to lower her expectations, every, single, time. Freed didn't even deserve that much from her. He is gleefully disturbing. Raynare had the right mind to believe everything he did was disturbing.
She would have to keep her eye on him. Or, more likely, have someone else do it. Most suitably Dohnaseek, after he came back from wherever he went. She's used to the raggedy fallen disappearing on her when his presence isn't absolutely required, but he'd been gone for a long time now. And the maiden is coming to the abandoned church any moment soon.
She needs all her people here for when it happens. A couple more hours without contact and Raynare will have assumed he has been compromised. She curses under her breath at the not unlikely possibility.
Fashioning her attention, something Raynare wishes she didn't need to do, Freed continues his preaching. The mad priest babbled on and on about the devils he killed, the females he defiled and the sinners he cleansed. Even his laugh of joy was disturbing, it resembled a cry for help.
Raynare takes in the picture around the exorcist. Flocked by men garbed in black, all of them concealing most of their faces and all of them brandishing weapons, crosses, the whole priest and exorcist schtick. She has correctly surmised by the various grins that many of them were as troubled as Freed, if only not as vocal.
A reminder that the fallen were not their friends, a simple partnership was all it was.
"Once this is over, I will skewer that waste of flesh and bone." Raynare's tone is liquid poison.
Kalawarna turns to Raynare, nonplussed. If she knew killing Freed was on the table any sooner, she would have staked her claim first. Kalawarna tilts her gaze to Mittelt who, like her, has been resting her anger but not her disgust.
Raynare begins to catechize Freed. She's been waiting all of yesterday to even see the exonerated sister; it is already morning following the next day.
"Where is she?" Raynare's voice makes certain that everyone is looking at her. The tone is not one Freed appreciates. Still, he manages a response.
"Oho, don't get your silly string of a thong in a twist now," Freed laughs with all the sanity of a drunken driver speeding at a cliffs' edge, "the nun will be here soon, its not easy concealing the presence of Twilight Healing from those shitty devils so be patient and enjoy the show."
Raynare is not in the mood to be spoken down to by a human. Her status is incomparably greater than anything these humans could achieve. She was the supernatural existence here, centuries prior they would all have been on their knees in her presence and they would have thanked her for it.
Before more can be said by either fallen or human, the door of the abandoned church opens. Rather dramatically mind you— nervous footfalls echo throughout and all eyes direct themselves accordingly.
Finally.
Asia Argento, the Holy Priestess, arrives.
Perhaps better left unsaid but not unseen, she was a maiden in every sense of the word; one adorning the traditional clothes of a nun at that. The veil over her head made her look more like a child, which she is in Raynare's amethyst eyes.
"You're late," Raynare greets, hostility undetected, she's a mother talking down to a child in this moving picture.
"I am so sorry," The blonde nun bowed deeply. Her voice is light and sunshine, genuine in the fact that it gets Raynare to believe she truly is, "there was this boy that I met, he helped me find the church after getting lost at—"
"That's quite enough," Raynare isn't callously saying this, in fact, Raynare is more gentle in her speech to Argento than she is to her own family. It's why she's speaking in the tongues of Italian rather than Japanese after all, "please, make yourself at home."
Asia nods, by all appearances still a little overwhelmed. That's good, for Raynare more-so, obviously, "Thank you for taking me in. I'm very thankful..."
There's a pause. Oh, of course, she doesn't know who she is addressing exactly.
"Raynare," The once angel informs the once nun.
Asia bows again, and quickly. How touching. Argento is a wonderful thing to Raynare. An exonerated sister for less than a week at most, conversing with one of the creatures she'd have been reminded to, time and time again, stay away from her entire life— and there's not even an iota of distaste on her face in the presence of three of them.
Maybe the girl is just that kind— she did heal a devil, in her ignorance. It's even possible that she's the kind of girl who never has a bad thing to say about anyone, even if they might be holding the thought.
Such an alarming blessing. Raynare takes a liking to those sorts of people. They're incredibly easy to control. For a brief time, Raynare considers giving God her graces, and in that same breath, she shelves that idea.
Gesturing to Mittelt, there is a brief communication that requires no words. Mittelt thinks exactly what Raynare thinks and she very much agrees.
Tugging Argento along with her free arm— Mittelt doesn't even bother with a greeting— she instead opts to lead the nun out of the altar and down into the catacombs where she can get settled, moving just fast enough that Asia is only focused on keeping up and not on the lustful gaze of the maddened priest.
Speaking of such, Freed is determined to be the insufferable thorn at Raynare's very curvy side with his sudden and vocal bark of a demand.
"I need the girl," Freed steps closer, his words are a fine combination of measured insanity and barely constrained lust.
"No," Amazingly Kalawarna speaks in Raynare's stead, one couldn't be so sure as to whether the hisses are from Kalawarna's voice or the coalescing light pooling in her palm, "you won't need anything anymore if you touch even a hair on that girl's head."
Raynare is friendly with the idea that Kalawarna isn't being this forward just for the sake of her best friend, no. There are much greater feelings at play. For all they've suffered, for all they've lost. Kalawarna is protecting the clear path at winning something.
She would be damned to let a priest thinking with his lower regions get in the way of that and Raynare concedes the same notion.
Freed chooses to respond by first giggling and then moaning. His pants stiffen and he makes sure to let everyone know it. He's enjoying this in the most fucked up sense possible. A woman's scorn is his delight.
"Shitty crows," Freed cackles a sly comment just when he turns his heel, "if I can't have the girl and you two bimbos aren't offering then your good ol' pal Freed will find bimbos who are. Don't miss me too much now!"
"And just where do you think you're going?" Raynare bothers to ask, knowing the answer or lack thereof.
There is unsurprisingly no response. Freed is gone.
It boggles the mind, truly. How God could claim these humans as his greatest creation. How anyone could have faith in this species was a daunting task; tittering into impossible for many. But Raynare knows exactly what faith gets you, she sees it every time she acknowledges a mirror.
Her only solace is the fact that she has what she needs two rooms over separated by stone walls and stairs, 'Soon,' Raynare thinks, 'soon."
To start with, looking after the idiot. She needs someone to watch Freed so he doesn't fuck up her schemes.
Glancing at the rest of the priests still in the building, Raynare adopts a look that mimics and then surpasses fury itself. She moves forward, the single step she takes is backed by the experience and arrogance of a millennia.
The party of priests are rattled because the look Raynare is giving them... well -- it would be generous to say that Raynare was just mad. She eyes all of them and orates.
"One of you," She says, out of impatience. "I do not care who. Follow him, and make certain he doesn't jeopardize my ascension."
One priest looks reluctantly ready to speak out in protest and the sharp bang of the floor near his feet confidently shuts him up. A spear of pure light and pretty pink, dug through the altar's floor.
"Follow him, now." Raynare will not waste another breath for any of them, and she doesn't have to, the unlucky priest playing babysitter is already out of the church.
—————
"So, Anos," Gremory says, once she's settled on the opposite couch from said man, "what brings you here?"
Anos appreciates that Rias is opening with a lot more sense than drama compared to their last talk at his store. It was a little too childish for his taste. If Rias can uphold the idea of being more affable there isn't any doubt that things would move easier.
Akeno comes through from another part of the ORC, she returns with tea; she sets a cup in front of Rias and then Anos with an almost-careless grace, she circles the table in between them and stands a little too closely to Anos.
He doesn't mind, Rias doesn't share that sentiment.
"I've found the pipeline the fallen are using to conduct their operations in Kuoh, as well as their dealings with the exorcist you've no doubt felt the presence of in town. I'm simply here to share that information."
Rias actually looks surprised, because she is, "I'm left a bit awed, Anos. You've never once hinted at an interest in the fallen and their schemes."
"Given it was your servant who was attacked, I felt it would only be fair to let you know. I'm sure you already have plans for how to deal with them, for the slight they've dealt you. But if I am to be more selfish, I was attacked in the comfort of my own residence. That is reason enough." The response is as leisurely said as one could imagine.
Besides, attacked isn't the right word, more of a minor inconvenience at best.
Both Rias and Akeno perk up a little more at Anos' impressively casual admittance of having his own run-in with the fallen. It seems they were also becoming a growing problem for him if his words were to be believed— which Rias has no doubts they are. The two do have their mutual interest to ease such complicated situations.
Anos leans forward, laying a hand to the table. Its surface shimmers with a magic circle, before gradually expanding into a map of Kuoh in a three-dimensional model. A couple pulsing circles around the few locations he's narrowed down the oppositions activity to.
"They've isolated themselves to these locations specifically," Anos looks at Rias, "I wouldn't put it past them to move unexpectedly. I trust you have your own methods of keeping them under careful watch?"
"Certainly," The Crimson-Haired Ruin Princess says. Everyone can feel the magic that jolts off her— Akeno's as well, even from the other side of the room where Kiba and Koneko are, red circles form before something springs out. On closer inspection, it's a small, cartoonish bat, similar in size to the imps that Akeno herself summons.
Rias opens a window, and the bat— her familiar— flutters out, followed by Akeno's imps. They quickly disappear into the distance, and everyone returns to the map. Once Rias has accurately transcribe its contents, Anos dissipates the construct.
While he's here, Anos might as well sort a few things out himself. "Sitri isn't here?" he says, he didn't feel her presence anywhere. It seemed she wasn't in Kuoh at all.
"She's in the Underworld, her whole peerage at that, they were recalled by the Sitri Clan regarding recent developments." Rias doesn't have to explain further, she senses Anos' understanding and leaves it at that.
"What of your Pawn?"
"Issei's out attending to some work I left him," Rias reveals, and the statement tracks well as Anos did pick up Hyoudou's presence on the other side of town so it isn't so much of a surprise.
Taking a sip from his cup of untouched tea, Anos thinks if there's anything else of worth note. Rias makes her own note of him. He looks so disarming in the moment he takes a drink.
Soon after, a pair of verdant sea-foam eyes regarded Anos, suddenly having a thought. "Do you have some time, Anos?"
"I do," Anos removes the soon empty cup from his lips, "what of it?"
"I believe now is as good as any to make our agreement known, no?" Rias expertly suggests.
The former Demon King understands the overture she is presenting him. It's coupled with the puzzled looks of Akeno, Koneko and Kiba that he infers their lack of awareness in their King's matters.
He's still not opposed to the motion at all. Then again, if Rias didn't suggest it then he himself would.
By the time all is made aware and the confusion in Rias' servants are dashed to nothing, Anos smirks in the way a lion might if given human form.
—————
This entire forest was a modicum underwhelming, Anos thinks. No magical restoration properties and it's size wasn't at least country-wide in terms of area. It would work for now but he would need to look around in the future for a more suitable place to train Rias' peerage.
"You two," he says, respectively surprising the Rook and Knight, "you'll be the two I train today."
The two nod and Koneko goes first. However, Anos isn't impressed with what he's seeing from the young nekoshou before him.
Nekoshou were supposed to be more in tune with nature, greater than any other species from what Anos gathered in his study of this world. Koneko's control over that part of her physiology was negligible at best and utterly inexistent at worst.
'She's yet to mature,' Anos surmises this possibility. He'd test her mettle concerning her Rook piece then. But he'd have to play nice, he can't risk hurting Rias' servants beyond functionality, not if he wants them to get stronger.
They start and the Rook of the peerage dashes to Anos with a fist drawn back, she's slow. It seems he had to play even nicer. Koneko is a step away from her mark when she manages to turn her sprawling half-leap, half-fall into a graceful backflip, and lands on her feet, quite the distance away from Anos.
Anos smiles, her body felt naturally threatened from a minuscule traces of his magic. Good instincts. Though if he chose to go on the offensive in the moment of her retreat, she wouldn't be standing in any way, much less breathing if he deemed it necessary.
The second year girl attempts to mount an attack once more, she settles one fist in front of the other. There's a bit of a rise in magic and Anos knows she's holding nothing back now. That is good, he'll gauge her current limit and respond in tandem.
Koneko is not even five feet tall. She looks as if a soft, delicate flower in the first bloom of spring, to be respected and admired from afar. But when she's in Anos space, and when she connects a punch to his palm, she's hitting with enough force to topple a fully grown tree from its roots.
Anos lets her freely swing at him, which he blocks with his right hand in ease, not moving in the slightest. Koneko winces, connecting her fist into Anos' palm is like slamming a paper bird into a wall of solid diamond.
The only reason Koneko even somewhat shifts him is because he is already moving— minimally mind you, and only to block with a mobile palm. She hits him with a full-on assault and all the strength of adrenalin, and Anos doesn't even come close to a stumble.
Punch after punch and kick after kick, Anos simply blocks without moving an inch from his starting position. Growing bored quickly; he backhands her across the face, nearly snapping her neck and cratering her into the ground below. There is a gaping hole in the ground, and she's covered in dirt and soil.
"Anos, I do not allow—" Anos shot a glance to his left and Rias found herself without words. Her doting elder brother would wear the same expression at times. A proper response to that look couldn't be given.
Much to Koneko's credit, she's able to get back up, if only barely. Anos helps her find her footing. She's reluctant only because she's still in a daze but the moment of contact— from the same palm she could not budge— gives restoration to Koneko who looks untouched, fully revitalized, and ready for another bout. Anos had casted Ent.
"You're tough," Koneko says this and she means it, if only because she's just felt it.
"You think so?" Anos smiles faintly, the idea he can hold back so much and still be leaps and bounds above her is pitifully amusing to him, "Let me ask you something, Koneko. What would you typically do when an opponent exceeds your physical abilities?"
She was without an answer.
It's aright, he answers for her, "You fallback on your magical capabilities. If you don't want to use magic or are incapable of such, I suggest you get creative. It can be something as simple as altering the angles of your attack, or something as small as disrupting the land beneath my feet. You have the strength to do that much so do it. Do you understand what I am saying?"
Koneko considers for a brief time, "Yes. Anything else, senpai?"
"Don't attempt a full-on assault like that again. You lack the speed and endurance to continue any means of close combat, the moment your strength isn't a factor anymore, you will have already lost."
The white-haired girl nodded, she could come to understand Anos' blunt and direct words of wisdom.
"It's just something to think about, next time I will expect more from you." Giving a resolute nod of her head, Koneko went to join her King and Queen off to the side, near the foliage of the forrest.
"You're next, Yuuto," Anos alerts the Knight.
Two wooden swords in either hand, Kiba approaches. The former demon looks a little more interested in the blonde as he brandishes his weapon of choice, tossing the other sword to Anos— who catches it before inspecting the blade, there's trace amounts of magic within it.
Assuming a proper stance, Kiba rushes forward in a burst of speed that redirects the wind in his path, still too slow in Anos' eyes, but a smidge better than Koneko. Nevertheless, the reincarnated man has seen it all before.
Kiba clenches his hold on the sword and bounces off the ground. Taken to the air, he falls from the sky overhead, holding his sword up to deliver a vertical slash from shoulder to hip.
Without any time taken, Anos swerves the sword to the side in a horizontal arc, his raw strength allows no resistance when wood meets wood. The only reason Kiba even has the privilege to cross blades is because Anos allows him.
The Knight's sword splinters until it snaps in half. He is greatly off-balance now. The shockwaves ripple through his hand and he very nearly loses his grip. Nearly, his grip holds true even when Anos kicks him off his feet.
The boy's vision and body spirals just as his back meets the dirt. He already looks visibly winded if the indent in his chest didn't give it away. Shakily, he stabs what's left of his blade to the ground to prop himself up but Anos will not wait for him to get up.
Launching off the ground like starlight, Anos looks like he's vanished, reappearing to Kiba's right, the Knight does not have time to breathe let alone think when his opponent acts.
Sword held as if to mimic a lance, the cherry-eyed man delivers a swift few thousand lethal sword strikes into Kiba's abdomen — who kneels over the assault, blood and saliva pushing past his lips.
Kiba's cut up body collapses harshly. He does not get up.
Standing over him, Anos forces the sword right into the ground next to his feet. He's knelt down to the barely conscious blonde, casting Ent once more.
"Your technique is too predictable. The type of fight you've shown demonstrates your use of honor and fairness and while it is great for show, in a real fight, it is worth nothing. You sought out the obvious in a clash of blades when you should have been targeting somewhere else, my legs per se. My stance was lazy and poor but you did not see that." Anos helps the boy sit up.
At the same time, the once demon muses with an idea of what his right hand man would have done if the boy's training was left up to him. Kiba would have died at least ten thousand times over; and thats if Shin was being particularly merciful on that day.
Continuing from before, Anos advises further, "There is also your lack of ability to adapt quickly. I would imagine a decent swordsman could have neutralized the shock or at the very least redirect the momentum elsewhere. Not to mention you're too flashy, keep your feet to the ground, there shouldn't be any waste in movement and you wasted plenty when airborne. That doesn't work at your level."
Kiba takes in the advice before he's fully on his feet again, there is brief realization that hits him almost as hard as Anos did once he's gathered himself, "...You were intentionally holding back?" he asked, a part of him afraid to hear the truth.
"Of course, you would have died if I hadn't," Anos ignores Kiba's horrified expression, "tell me, why swords?"
"My Sacred Gear allows me to create swords through thought." Kiba answers, demonstrating by creating two more blades out of seemingly nothing.
"I see," Anos replies, his mind moving for a specific aim, "If you can manage that much I would advise you to adopt a ranged attack. Are you familiar with the concept of Danmaku?"
Kiba thinks for a bit and then confirms his own insight of the idea, Anos continues, "Good, that's a start. Familiarize yourself and integrate it to the best of your ability. Next time I need to see less close-minded thinking on the battlefield. Am I understood?"
"Understood. Thank you, senpai," Kiba politely bows his head to Anos and returns to the rest of his peerage.
"It was an admirable effort," Anos says, facing Koneko and Kiba. They actually looked rather hopeful at the bit of encouragement.
"Akeno. Rias. It will be your turn next time so be prepared. I won't be holding back against any of you from this point onward." To everyone present, Anos' words sounded like fire and ice. Like a storm sending dark clouds to warn you of the impending calamity ahead.
It wasn't a threat; just an air of caution. A sign for what was ahead.
Rias could not lie, she was deeply intimidated. The time now reflecting the time they first met at the park. She couldn't correctly gauge his power even still but she knew, justknew— he didn't reveal even a fraction of a fractions worth of his true strength.
Nonetheless, the message was received in kind.
"Thank you for your time, Anos," Rias sees him nod before he draws his unique magic circle, ready to take him elsewhere. Gatom— is what he called it? Perhaps.
Rias doesn't want him to go just yet, so before he does, she calls for his attention, "Anos."
There is a response in the form of a hum.
"Before you go, I believe it would be better if you stuck around the ORC a little longer. Issei might come back any moment now and he's the only member of my peerage you have yet to be acquainted with."
Before, she had Anos' attention. Now? She has his interest.
It would be very opportune for Anos to, at last, formally meet the boy who preceded his proper walk-in of the supernatural world. To that point, he dismisses Gatom.
There is very genuine amusement for all to see in his expression. He very much also wanted to see the full potential of Issei's Sacred Gear, and if a short few minutes happened to be in the way... well.
He could wait that much longer.