23. Transitory
"It wasn't raining when he left," Rias stated over the pitter-patter of the tightly-warded school roof, "but now it's nothing but rain."
Her privy thoughts close by way of footsteps.
"You're worried, Rias?" Sona says, arms folded, prim and proper as always.
Rias smiles, "As if," she responds. She never even considered such a thought, not for a moment.
Sona knew it too. It was always a game between them however. Two young rulers blooming into the role with sass and sarcasm.
"I imagine you've come to the same conclusion I have." the redhead remarks suddenly.
"He'll be back soon." the violet-eyed devil says, quite easily in fact.
Rias obviously thought so. The two devils believed it whole heartedly. And the same could be said for every other devil outside and in the building. They didn't even bother themselves in calling the Satans.
Sona adorns a small smile and continues, "He'll likely show himself any moment now and say, "'Did you really think I'd be late, just because I wasn't on time?'" she smiles a little brighter and a little easier too, "or something cute like that."
The two stare and burst into laughter; whether it's at the image, her not at all convincing replication of Anos' voice, or just to relieve the tension, neither are sure, but neither really care.
Happiness in small moments like these are worth every second.
But unfortunately, they are only moments.
Rias feels it first, she leapt to her feet from her office chair, wide-eyed and near frantic. Sona catches on as fast as the tense feeling came to her.
Their Queens burst in only a second later.
""Buchou/Kaichou, did you feel—?""
""Yes,"" The Kings say in unison. The rest of their available peerages still in the building spill in quickly afterwards.
Rias looks to Koneko who squeezes her eyes tight in concentration, fauna-like features proud and present.
"Give me a second. I need to find..." The young Rook opens her golden irises as quick as the flick of a switch. "Over two dozen fallen are closing in about twenty miles south with six-winged to eight-winged fallen led by a single ten-winged fallen."
As the sensory, she was accurate in her description and assessment.
They were all tense, everyone could feel it. Akeno and Tsubaki's magic hummed in anticipation as they summon a teleportation circle. The magic circle sent their bodies careening through space-time for a short-range teleportation out near the field.
Those fallen were causing this, this disruption, and they were strong individually but more so as a murder of crows.
The devils look up into the darkness of the moonlit skies accompanied by dotted whites of faraway stars and see their opposition.
Now that they'd stepped out of the prior shock, Rias and Sona felt themselves breathe a little easier. Their mind had been their own again.
"They're going to pierce our barrier with the speed they're going," Sona informs aloud, "easily too."
Rias doesn't even need to acknowledge that fact, she simply casts a magic circle before her mouth and her voice booms from across the field: one of the oldest, and most common sorcery types.
"Unlike our Rating Game with Riser, this battle is very real, and our school and lives will be at risk." Rias didn't need to shout, looking over both peerages and the two exorcists. "It will take every last one of us to survive, so my dears, we will! So we may go to school together again!"
"Brilliant parting words, daughter of Gremory!" The voice of rising dawn exclaims in glee.
A growing cacophony in the air. The sounds of a dozens of ebony wings flapping to a near halt the whole of the barrier shudders, as if struck by its own, personal earthquake. The devils can feel the magic shield crackling across their skin; it's the blowback from the force of the fallen ramming into it.
The fallen tear through sixty-six layered wards before aptly stopping once the final and toughest goes down like shattered glass.
The rain pours in and no one else can comment before Kokabiel does.
He flutters in the air with a sharp array of teeth, "Sturdy barrier, I didn't expect it to halt my forces for a moment. You lot aren't anywhere near as inexperienced as your actions betray you to be. Even as the mightiest among you isn't present."
It appears Kokabiel is fully aware that Anos isn't here, and at that obvious show of dominance, it wouldn't be entirely wrong to feel the least bit of nervousness. But in the case of Rias and Sona, there's no reason to feel nervous at all.
It doesn't matter if they face Kokabiel, a man who survived war with God and the previous Satans. That isn't something most people could even consider, but again, no reason to be more nervous than one would be otherwise.
No reason at all.
Both Rias and Sona unfurl their bat-like wings and meet Kokabiel in the sky, the two ascend and take a measured pause just as they elevate themselves a fair bit higher than the Cadre in altitude.
Rias takes the lead, brushing a hand through the thick of her crimson hair without regard, "Congratulations, you broke a few ward layers," she openly mocks the man, "Do you really think that changes anything?"
Sona fixes her perfectly framed glasses, not a drop of rain water stains them, "Unfortunately, the more power you burn, the more obvious this will be to anyone, even those not in the vicinity. Do you really think you can break in here, smash past us and every one of our subordinates, and get out with your lives unperturbed?"
The obvious influence of their boyfriend isn't lost on either.
Kokabiel simply grins, maddeningly, "You intrepid brats aren't as obtuse as I'd expect. I'll have to play around here more until your savior shows himself."
He peers over to the rest of the devils, "Hope that your slaves are not utterly pitiful. I grow bored eyeing them alone."
"Do not call my family slaves." Rias interjects.
"What else would you call it when you exist solely at the whims of another? Within a peerage, you have two orders: obey, or die a stray. You would call my assessment false?"
The Grigori had never been so unfair. Even now, as Kokabiel leaves it behind can he confidently say that his former organization was a place of freedom before all else.
"I believe most peerages of masters and members alike don't want to acknowledge this fact, but all the softening words in the world will never change what it is."
The warmonger's words spreads like fire on a tightrope, even momentarily silencing both Kings. For as promising as these devils are, they are still children in his eyes; valuable or otherwise.
"But I am not here to recount your wrongs nor am I here to break the morale of your slaves before the first shot is fired. I am here for war, for blood, for what is due. Not the dull of words."
He laughs and distances himself from the two Kings, bemused, "My men will stay their hand and exercise patience for now, but my pets will be your test. A courtesy to your senseless courage."
The ground cracks beneath where Kokabiel's feet would have been, he crafts a magic circle of gold, and from its intricate and formulaic pattern begets the arrival of a creature that lives at the gates of the Underworld; the watchdog of Hades.
The peerages down below look on from outrage over Kokabiel's prior words to shock, more so when two more appear.
"Three-headed Cerberus?" Akeno mutters to herself, being the closest to the beast along with Tsubaki.
"To bring that thing to the human realm..." Her crimson haired King eyes squint as two more emerge from the circle.
"Such a thing is forbidden." Sona concludes, signaling to her peerage.
"Let's go, Akeno, Koneko, Kiba!" Rias was far more direct as she yelled, already flying over, "Issei you know what to do!"
Two entire classes worth of devils pour out across the field. There's three devils for every Cerberus, and the beasts make a beeline straight for the closest ones. Once the first magic circle had been drawn and the swipe of claw met its formation, the battle had begun.
—————
Something is moving fast, as if a small twinkle of the eye progressing across the backdrop of a black void. The speed in which it is moving is hard to tell, hard to grasp, but the speed of this mass moves several orders of magnitude faster than light could ever.
The color is lucent, barely seen, barely felt, but the presence is there. And in the long line of its path, it has crossed innumerable planets, star systems, and galaxies. The last of such rivered spirals had passed - it is only deep black that surrounds it now.
This movement stops quite the vast distance away from where it had originally started. The translucent light decidedly specks away like an eggshell to reveal; Anos.
He's reached his destination long past the edge of the observable universe, somewhere in the infinite darkness beyond it.
Since leaving Earth, his estimates and the time taken to reach here were all of three seconds - and that would be counting the time he took in sightseeing.
Somewhere out within this black sky beyond the sky is a spatial distortion. Anos would need to get to it before he could get to Heaven. Straining his Magic Eyes, Anos exercises a near-perfect use of extrasensory perception. His clairvoyance sees something akin to a gate and a stairway within it.
On the other side is his goal, he smiles and crosses its threshold without delay.
—————
Where the seat of God lies is Heaven; a throne worthy of carrying the Almighty who spoke all creation into being with not but a mere few words.
The one who sits upon it is not God, but the most devoted of all his children; the archangel Michael. He looks... tired, so very tired. Beyond him stretched forth the endless paradise, all seven layers of it.
On most days like this does the weight of what his Father maintained for all sunk within not the deep recesses of his mind, but soul. This son of God could never measure to the immaculate perfection of his Father. But Michael still tries, only God knows, but Michael does try.
He fixes his posture from his prior sagging. Michael had never known true exhaustion until preserving the Sacred Gear and God systems respectively.
Angels, and even more so archangels, have near inexhaustible energy -- they will never tire, nor die unless through battle to an equal or superior existence. Yet only Michael takes it upon himself to hold both systems in place. He plans to do so for however long necessary - for forever.
Everything feels distant. Everything is distant.
Michael's eyes are in a perpetual state of being half-lidded and the moments he flutters them closed become not a moment of seconds or minutes, but at times it becomes whole hours.
"You don't look too hot."
Sensation returns. Someone leisurely approaches and Michael adjusts his gaze from the underpin below his feet to the man who stands before him.
"A living mortal soul in Heaven?" Michael seems more fascinated than threatened, his voice is hilariously warm and inviting, even in the presence of a mind boggling contradiction, "such a thing is..."
"Impossible?" They say, finishing for the angel, "the name is Anos Voldigoad."
"Anos... Voldigoad?" Michael's lips and mind plays with that name, he's heard it before, not from Sirzechs or even Azazel, but from God himself.
Michael recalled a time where his Father had confronted Lucifer about some matter not known to him; many words were said that day and many names were spoken. One such name was the one this man carried, his Father said it with so much reverence, warmth and familiarity.
"You're the transcendental impossibility," Michael replies, his smile is weary.
Anos eyes the throne, and Michael sees there is a strange magic circle formula within the cherry-red of his pupils, the pattern is a lovely thing, "Move aside. I'll do something about that."
The angel protests, because of course he does, "I—"
"Even your Father did not work forever." Anos says, words falling like a sword, "You should rest. But before you do, move aside."
Michael is unsure by the request of the strange visitor. Naturally, he already knew that Anos held more power than anything he could command, even with all of Heaven at his beck and call. The angel knew that with just a glance.
No mortal soul could manifest in this realm of Heaven without the creator's light, and Michael never gave such permission, he didn't even know if he could.
The angel of God hadn't answered yet. The light instilled within him by his Father wrestled with his doubt. The four corners of his mind thought it over all the while. It felt like Anos would willingly wait an eternity until Michael moved. Thankfully, Michael was not so rude.
The throne trembles beneath the angel's feet, at least that is what it felt like as he rose up. He moves aside slowly and deliberately. Michael had been expecting Anos to approach the seat of God, but he did not. He simply stood in place and suddenly, the oddest thing happened before his holy eyes.
Black particles of light rushed to where Anos stood. "I met your Father, you know. In my study of this world he created, I transcended space-time to arrive at the start of creation." Anos began.
The next moment, the number of particles multiplied to fill this entire layer of Heaven. Several magic runes inscribed themselves across the endless floor and the outline of a castle faintly revealed itself.
"Your Father loved this world more than anyone else. He sought to be its well of understanding, patience and hope. Slow to anger and filled with unfailing love and faithfulness. It is who he was, and who he knew his creations could be." Anos finished, a clear reverent respect is there.
Then, a giant three-dimensional magic circle sprung alive, "Come forth, Venuzdonoa."
Countless black particles appeared at his call, gathering at Anos' feet to form the shadow of a sword. Only the shadow existed— there was no body projecting its shape. When he held out his hand, the shadow rose slowly from the ground. He grabbed it by the hilt. The next moment, the shadow inverted and turned into a dark longsword.
"I suspected he left such an obvious flaw in his throne for a reason," Anos pauses, lifting his sword, "Venuzdonoa will destroy that reason."
Pitch-black darkness rose from the blade, making it look more like a great-sword. Aiming it at the seat God used to rest on the seventh day of creation, and with a tightened grip on the sword, Anos sliced through the throne without ever making contact.
The throne didn't so much as chip a piece from the hammered white-gold and divine metals it was made from yet it was altered in some way. The system should be properly able to run without an occupant. At least until the end of time.
Michael all the while, watched on in stunned silence.
"Convenient, but perhaps your Father's omniscience sought to use this moment to foster a bit of trust between us." Anos leisurely rests the Abolisher of Reason over his shoulder, turning his eyes toward the stupefied angel.
"That reminds me. You should visit Earth," Anos says before dissipating Venuzdonoa, "sometime soon."
Michael could only blankly nod, reply with thanks, and nod again.
—————
The battle for Kuoh on academy grounds persisted at a rather messy pace.
BOOST!
One moment, a three headed Cerberus' head is cleaved through in two even slices by Xenovia's holy blade, and in the next Koneko-chan goes flying up to kick that same Cerberus skyward in a single arch of her little leg. That Cerberus is launched in range of Rias' destruction, the sight is an ignition of black, it disintegrates the beast to nothingness, much like the splinters and dust that once surrounded it.
BOOST!
Saji crashes through covered in scratches where the rocks were still sharp enough to cut, but he smiles because Asia is no longer surrounded by brutalized, monstrous-sized Cerberus. His Sacred Gear halting it in place momentarily with a multitude of black lines from his wrist. Aside from that nasty blow, if he's even breathing heavily then his focused face makes it far too hard to tell. In mere blinks, as if snapshots of instances in time, Irina cleaves the entire beast in half from side to end. The two simply nod at each other before resuming on the split pieces of the multi-headed dog.
BOOST!
"Is it ready yet, Issei?" Rias yells over to her Pawn from the air, bobbing under a claw swipe of the final mutt.
Before the Pawn could give her his answer, he notices a faint green light on the gems of his Boosted Gear. A darker green, much more than any other he'd seen before, "This is..."
"That's a sign that it's reached an appropriate power for battle transfer."
Issei could only ogle slightly and the phenomena in his gemstone, "Seems awfully convenient for something like that to be built in."
"The Sacred Gear matures with you every second of every day. If you truly desire it with all your heart and soul, it will turn it into reality."
Issei nods. He wouldn't complain, not now nor ever. "It's ready, Buchou! Kaichou!"
"Alright, good boy!" Rias says and watches as Sona takes the lead for the next part of the plan.
Sona looks to Saji and nods her head, the dirty blonde knows his role. He sprints towards Issei as Issei does to him. The two Pawns once within range slap their palms together with a loud beat of a clap.
TRANSFER!
A draconic green emanation radiated from Pawn to Pawn before Saji felt his body bulk up slightly, "Incredible..." he mutters, admiring the bestowed strength.
"Focus, Saji!" Tsubaki admonished him, and he snapped straight.
Saji scans the field and swipes his arm over it, a myriad of translucent wire-like appendages shoot to all the devils and the intense green aura from before streams from him to them. The power transference was a success once the magic in the area became a tangible aura around every present devil. And strangely it even seemed to empower the two exorcists.
Sona acted at once, "Now, Tsubaki!" she says before constructing a hydra of oceanic magic and firing it at her ever loyal Queen.
"Mirror Alice!" Tsubaki responds on that signal, the space in front of Tsubaki shone as an oval mirror appears facing her King and the full brunt of her attack. Rather than shattering Tsubaki's mirror— Sona's magic construct sank inside its surface like a drop of water.
Then, the mirror glowed and widened in length, width and height. The reflective surface ripples as the hydra came out and shot straight for the Cerberus behind Sona, moving at twice the speed and size it did initially before vaporizing the beast in a single pressurized strike.
"Checkmate," Sona spoke triumphantly once the guard dog of the Underworld fell to its side, it did not get back up again.
"Not a bad performance."
Everyone's attention went to Kokabiel. Rias fires her entropy at the fallen angel. Yes, it was reckless, but she needed to gauge the gap between them, and Kokabiel seemed to be the type to be entertained by the aggression more than anything else.
She was right. Kokabiel simple grins and directs his palm towards it. As soon as it made contact, he caught it with a slight pause. After which he crushes it in his grip.
Rias actually flinches. Only her brother, Grayfia and Anos could manage that sort of easy dismal.
More than that, after Issei in his Balance Breaker; Rias, who's tied with Akeno, holds the most magical firepower among both groups. All this to say, her magic is tailor-made to destroy, enough to obliterate matter itself on contact.
"Surprises galore," Kokabiel mused aloud, his palm sizzled, covered in blisters and smoke, "This is how much stronger you are with the power of the Red Dragon Emperor..."
"We have a lot more in store for you," Rias speaks like she has something to prove.
Kokabiel simply stares, not at Rias, but perhaps beyond her.
He ceases all play.
Lowering his wings, he finally permits his feet to touch the ground. With his only arm, Kokabiel creates a spear of light - it is so bright it waters the eyes of even devils - and slams it upon the ground. There's an earthquake, and a clap of thunder against the ears.
Behind him, his soldiers array themselves, unwavering guards armored in black and hardened-iron. Ready to send themselves upon the devils with light and fury. In the end, they merely break formation to reveal what they've hidden behind their mass illusion magic barrier.
"At last... It's complete!" The voice of Valper Galilei, an exonerated priest and leading head of the Holy Sword Project, chirps forth. No longer hidden by the layers of mirage magic.
All the devils see are the spiraling patterns, a magic circle with each sigil and stroke filled with light and only light.
Momentarily, a flash of gold blinds them all but when it ceases, a weapon; that of a sword, took shape. As of now, it shoots a perpetual pillar of radiant holiness on high. It doesn't seem to stop at the clouds above either, but it does dissipate the rain.
Kokabiel's voice is amusement and majesty in one, "Your entertainment provided me the time to see what results from the combination of the holy swords. You should plan your next move with care, even without a wielder, that blade will expend enough energy to turn your town into a bed of dust and cinders."
There's shock; and then panic.
"Y-You're kidding me," Issei spat out, "is our town seriously going to disappear because of that sword?!"
Being the one closest to the prized weapon, Valper laughs with glee. "You should run. This place you call home will be destroyed in less than one-third of the hour."
Everyone warily accepts those words. It is very obvious what will take place next. If they want to protect this place, they will have to defeat Kokabiel in that short window of time.
"What will you do now, dear devils?" Kokabiel's voice shatters the stillness.
"Isn't it obvious?!" Rias shouts.
She flies dangerously close, using all of her strength, she exerts the full extent of her magical power, through the cheap talk and taunts had she amassed her magic to attack again at any moment should she need to, "Extinguished Star!"
But Kokabiel does not even glance at the blazing ball of entropy and ruin. One of his six-winged guard fly towards the sphere to intercept it. Despite the desperate fury of that fallen guard, his body gives way and eventually he is unmade.
That soldier didn't even get to scream. But Kokabiel does laugh.
"Fool!" Kokabiel roars to Gremory. "My men are willing to die for this cause! As should you!"
All Rias could make out was a blur and she was struck, sent flying into the distance by merely a flick of one of Kokabiel's wings. The pain of the open gash to her stomach does not yet register, not before her back eventually meets resistance.
What she's stopped by is something firm and soft all at once. Whatever or whoever it was reached a hand around to heal her. The touch was warm and oh so familiar, already soothing her back even before the healing magic seeped through.
"You alright?" Anos' voice sails through the air like the feeling of safety itself. When he speaks, it is with comfort and care.
"You're late," Rias replies, she's smiling.
Anos smiles, unashamed too, "Did you really think I'd be late, just because I wasn't on time?"
Somewhere on the field, the corner of Sona's lips raise up. All the devils smile, actually. Even Xenovia and Irina look noticeably relaxed.
"I don't know, the thought never crossed my mind." Rias says before she reluctantly removes herself from Anos' touch, "How do you want to handle this?"
"I'll decide as I go, regroup with everyone else," Anos guides her, Rias nods before soaring towards everyone else.
As soon as Rias leaves his arms, Anos seemingly chooses to leisurely stroll to meet Kokabiel, the Cadre laughs, almost gladden, "Providence could not have brought a more fitting catalyst! Yes, this will be a day to remember. The fallen will rise anew—"
Anos is gone, no longer in his sights.
Kokabiel's eyes are in every cardinal direction at once. He hears Anos' voice before he sees him.
"You don't seem to have realized it yet, so I'll spell it out for you: you handed me your life the moment you revealed yourself. I'll play with you soon. Stand over there until I'm ready." Anos says like a passing whisper.
Over there, Kokabiel stretches his neck to see Anos inspecting the holy sword, the fallen guard around the former demon are nothing but severed limbs and puddles of liquor-red blood. The exonerated priest is the only living one left.
"Your name?" Anos asks the man, it is so casual it is actually frightening.
"Who—"
"If I have to ask twice it will not be with words." Anos amazingly shuts the priest up and gets him to talk simultaneously.
"Valper Galilei," The rotund man answers in his apprehension; he felt he could cry.
There's a couple of reactions in response to that answer. Anos himself seems to take the name with a hum. He's gone again, leaving the priest and the holy sword untouched by his hand, everyone's eyes move - enemies and allies alike, though none can find him.
He chooses to appear behind Kokabiel this time, the fallen's eyes immediately sharpen to a side glance and he swings. Kokabiel misses entirely despite swinging with the strength and speed of a small meteor.
Anos sidesteps, and grabs a fist full of feathers, two of ten wings, with a motion of his hand, he tosses the full weight of the Cadre over his shoulder. Before Kokabiel is sent forcefully and wholly in the distance from Anos' hold, the former demon moves a fist to meet Kokabiel's abdomen. The Cadre folds around the blow, kneeling over the arm buried in his midsection, indenting into his spine. The creaking of joints and ligaments is almost as concerning as the pools of blood and saliva bursting from his mouth, eyes and ears. The force and momentum carry Kokabiel into a nearby forest.
Out of sight and out of mind. For now. Anos held back enough that Kokabiel will only be unconscious for around half the time the holy blade is expected to go off.
"Everyone," Anos addresses, ebony hair whipping against his forehead, the wind finally catching up to his movement, "let that sad excuse of a holy sword be taken care of by the same devils and exorcists that fool looked down upon."
It's clear what he's asking of them so no one really follows up with questions on his request.
With that, Anos walks in the direction he'd tossed Kokabiel in. Behind him was the image of a clock, using Tel, he left them the exact amount of time before the sword set itself off, a manageable eighteen minutes and counting.
"That guy is... something else," Irina is actually the first to speak out, not taking her eyes off Anos' back even as he disappears into the neighboring woods in search of the warmonger.
Irina doesn't know why she's smiling so unabashedly, but she is.
"We have eighteen minutes, focus," Sona snaps, a bit annoyed with how Irina gazed at her boyfriend.
"Agreed," Xenovia spoke, being so eye-to-eye with a devil wasn't something she'd thought would happen so regularly in just one day, "I don't presume anyone has a plan?"
Rias glances at the clock before the corner of her eyes catch something, "Kiba!" she yells.
Everyone follows the direction of Rias' shout.
"...Valper Galilei..." Kiba growls, by all means it is a frightening noise. "I'm a survivor of the Holy Sword Project. Or, more accurately, of those you slaughtered."
Rias frowns, her heart bore a heavy ache for her Knight. She'd kept a close eye on her precious servant all throughout, she saw how he froze upon just hearing Valper's voice. Only now did her glittering Knight choose to march on.
"I've been able to live on as a devil," Kiba continued, voice shy of a soaked sob. "I could not die. I needed to avenge their deaths!"
With a cry of choler, the Knight of Gremory rushes for Valper with a blade drawn back.
"Kiba!" Rias' plea once more fell on deaf ears alongside his charge forward.
He meets the priest head-on, but it is futile. The natural barrier afforded by the culminations of the fused Excaliburs erect a barrier of light around its creator. The recoil shatters Kiba's sword, snapping in two and therefore hitting the blonde in the face with enough force to be ejected back.
"Maybe I should have spoken sooner. As long as I am within the vicinity, my prized creation will protect me within its radiance. You devils cannot touch me." Valper announces in a chortle, "and I doubt those two exorcists wield enough power to destroy my merged Excalibur."
Xenovia lands next to Kiba and faces off against Valper. "You alright?" she asks.
Kiba is slow to up himself, but he manages, "Worry about yourself," he breathes in an annoyed tone, another sword in hand.
Knowing the circumstances, Xenovia brushes off Kiba's disposition.
"You know, I'd heard that one of the subjects had gotten away," Valper states half-heartedly at the memory, "but for him to have become a lowly devil... Still, I am grateful for one thing, their deaths. Thanks to that, I was able to complete the project."
"Complete?" Yuuto grunts, his hold on his blade was watery at best.
"You and the rest of my subjects didn't have enough of the needed gene to use the holy swords," Valper explains, "and in knowing that, I was able to conclude that all I had to do was take out the gene from the subjects."
Valper's hand slips into the collar of his attire, when he next pulls out his hand, in it rests a blue crystal. "We succeeded you know. This contains the genes from that time in their crystallized form! In my hand, is the very last one."
There is a saying rarely said from those who hail in the darkest corners of the church: human cruelty can give even a devil pause.
Xenovia puts the pieces together in her head, from what her superiors had always loosely implied but never confirmed fully, "So... when a holy sword user receives the blessing, something like that is put into their bodies and that's to make up for the deficiency in genes?"
"Those hypocrites!" Valper snaps with a frown, "after excommunicating me as a pagan, they shamelessly use my research. Well, in any case, we're talking about Michael here. Even if he took genes out of the subjects, I'm sure he didn't kill them."
Finally hearing enough, Kiba doesn't so much as yell as much as he screams. "There was no need to kill us either, so why?!"
Valper is unapologetic in his sneer.
"You all were nothing more than materials used for my life's wok. Once we were done, there was nothing left to do but to dispose of you."
Rage continued to build, Kiba's grip on his blade caused the hilt to cut into his skin. His voice is a mix of despair and pain and of fury, his very voice sounded like a blade unsheathed next to the ears.
"...We believed it was for God and bore it the whole time... That was— we weren't materials to be disposed of..."
Everyone felt heartbroken, but none more so than Asia, the first to shed tears for Yuuto. "That's horrible..."
With another brief chortle, Valper tosses the crystal near the blonde, it lands directly before his feet.
"I wanted to keep that one as a memento for how far I've come, but have at it. We've already gotten to the point where we can mass produce higher quality crystals."
Kneeling, Kiba picks up the crystal. The moment he laid his eyes on the object his gaze seemed as vast and empty as the night, and he speaks in a voice not entirely his own; it echoes and warps, each word repeated like a stone in the stomach.
"Everyone... I'm so sorry..."
It takes several minutes for Kiba to gather his words, but he manages, rising up. Clutching the crystal tightly to his chest as if it would cease to be any other way. For one-tenth of a second, it gleamed and shone.
"I kept thinking... about whether or not it was okay for me to be the only one still alive. There were kids who had more dreams than I did... kids who wanted to live more than I did..." Yuuto's frustrations boiled to a fever's pitch. "I wondered if it was okay... for me to be the only one living a peaceful life, and I... I..!"
Before he could go any further, the young devil felt a presence all around: behind, next to, and over him. His eyes rounded at the transient people he knew all too well. He was at a loss, almost unfeeling to the tug at his shirt sleeve.
Looking down to see who it was, he saw a little girl looking up towards him before giving him a kind smile, a gesture that pulled onto his heartstrings, she was one of the many he befriended before they were all butchered senselessly.
He wanted to say something to her, to all of them - all the people from that incident dispersed into particles one by one. This phenomenon continued, his eyes widened further upon hearing their chants, as did everyone else.
Each one is a sweet something against Kiba's ear. The most important echoes the loudest.
"Our hearts will always be..."
Kiba gasped. The river of tears streamed through. Kiba smiles through it all, he parrots their last word: "One."
Everyone watches the blue glow inscribe upon Kiba's body.
"It's heartwarming," Koneko states, a single tear falls.
"Damn it..." Issei curses, his arm rubbing at his face. "I can't stop crying."
Looking towards everyone else, Issei could see Rias and Akeno mourning for Kiba as well. Sona, Tsubaki and the rest of her peerage also. And when the Pawn's sights were on Xenovia and Irina, he could see that fresh tears had yet to leave their eyes.
"The Knight has peaked."
Issei looks down at his Boosted Gear when he hears Ddraig's voice speak from its gem.
"What?"
"When the user's thoughts and wishes go against the natural order of things in the world, the Sacred Gear peaks. I think you know what that means."
Issei's eyes widen, being able to put the pieces together. Looking back up at his friend, he saw the Knight now had resolve in his features, his face was set like the edge of a blade. And for the first time since arriving in this town, the ex-priest felt intimidated by the boy.
"My comrades didn't want me to wish for vengeance," Kiba exclaims in a casual stride towards Valper. "They never wanted that. They wanted me free, but I'm not. Not until I defeat the evil before me, so that there would never again be others like us."
Kiba's palm shines, his Sword Birth reverberates in a fierce flash, all to forge a new sword. In the light and fury that burns in his palm is a black blade with a white hilt and a golden guard. He points it at the Valper like judgement had come.
"You foolish little brat! Have you forgotten you cannot reach me within this barrier?! You should've just allowed yourself to be disposed of!" Valper proclaims, and for all his bravado, he still steps back a pace.
'That sword, it feels of a devil, but... I can sense some holy power dwelling in it as well...' After feeling it out, Issei grins and starts to shout, "Kiba!"
The blonde actually looks over towards Issei when he calls him, Issei simply gave a thumbs up.
"Issei..."
"Show that old bastard no mercy! Don't waste their feelings and their souls!"
The other devils nod with Issei. The praise and encouragement that follows from them all is an infinite well of emotions that Kiba cannot describe. He's empowered in ways he couldn't fathom so he simply breathes out the last of that strange, churning-in-your-stomach mix of tension and affection, and moves a foot forward before he does another. When he does, he raises his blade.
"I'll become a sword for Buchou and for my comrades: Sword Birth now!"
His blade illuminates like the core of a lantern, the glow breaks away, gaining red markings in the midsection of the blade.
"Sword of the Betrayer, a sword vested with both holy and devil powers. Stop it if you can!"
Issei cheered the loudest, the others turn to him by his reaction so he gives it at an excited pace. "Ddraig told me about it. He said Kiba had peaked. That sword he's carrying, having both devil and holy power, that's his Balance Breaker!" Issei spoke, a toothy grin in support for his friend.
Valper, overhearing what was said, acquired an expression of disbelief.
"A holy-devil sword? That's not possible! For two opposing natures to mix together like that..."
Without delay, Xenovia joined Kiba's march toward Valper, "Knight of Rias Gremory, are we still on the same side?"
With all the wrongdoings of the organization she's served on display, it is not an out-of-place inquiry.
Yuuto doesn't so much as glance over. "That's what I'd like to think."
"Then let us destroy that Excalibur together," Xenovia says. "Despite its origins, it isn't holy any longer."
Kiba nods and Xenovia impales her Excalibur Destruction in the ground and extends her right hand to her side. She'd saved her ace in the hole for the fight with Kokabiel but that no longer seemed necessary.
"Saint Peter, Basil the Great, Saint-Denis, and the Blessed Virgin Mary, please hear my call!" she chants like the chimes of a church bell, and a saffron magic circle appears in front of her palm. When the circle lit up, a hilt emerges, revealing a large blue and gold sword bound by chains. "In the name of the saint who resides within this blade, I will release it! Durandal!"
Pulling the weapon from its portal, the chains shatter into pieces. Kiab was all too familiar with that blade, Xenovia drew it against him in their spar prior.
"Impossible... My research didn't go into using Durandal." Valper mutters, a wild card like this bore unfavorable results.
Xenovia smirks at Valper. "Unlike Kiba or Irina, I'm one of the few naturals. No gene necessary."
"A true holy sword user," even now, Valper's brow lifted in curiosity, "Is there even such a thing?"
Kiba and Xenovia leap, the ground beneath ripples upon their ascent. The air around them is a trace of white brilliance. They are bright and furious and roar as they fall to meet the hovering Excalibur forged from cruelty and sin. The Excalibur bubbles from the heat of their blades. Valper's' eyes are so wide it physically hurts him.
They slice through what the forged holy sword— or forged failure, in one case— pinning it to the ground in shattered pieces. It's light fades and it no longer feels heavy, solid nor dangerous. It is nothing.
Kiba lands first, then Xenovia. The former actually smiles, words echoing at the corners of his mind, 'Did you see that?' he asks, 'our power overcame Excalibur!'
"Well done, Kiba." Rias spoke, the Tel clock behind her vanished with a mere seven seconds read upon it.
Yuuto looks to his left to see his King approaching him with a soft smile, it prompts him to smile back.
"It was thanks to them that I was able to keep fighting."
"I know, it was truly wonderful." She turns serious, "but I believe you still have some unfinished business."
"I still don't understand... How is this possible?"
To even look at Valper is a bother for the devils, but they do hear him speak with puzzlement, having been staring at Yuuto's new sword this whole time. "The fusion of holy and devil power can't coexist so seamlessly unless the one maintaining the natural order is— arghh—!"
Valper is disrupted, catching Kiba's blade by the neck. The sword crushes the ex-priest's windpipe with a wet sound and rocks his head back so violently it snaps clean off his shoulders. After the head and neck have been severed, Valper's bottom half smacks the ground with the blunt sound of falling meat.
No one will miss him.
Sona of all people, inclines her head in thought, "Now all that's left is—" The feeling of the vibrations and sounds of battle all around finally hits them all.
It sounds like a natural disaster and it feels like an earthquake. A multitude of trees from the forest uproot and the trail of smoke that runs through it forces its way through like a comet of ash. What falls is Kokabiel, harshly landing into a perfect circle of a crater some distance away near the group.
Releasing his fight from above, Anos falls to the ground below, landing in silent grace, interrupting the group and their conversation. The contrast between how the two arrived could not be more different, even to the way Anos methodically walks towards them; or more correctly, Kokabiel.
"You said your men were willing to die for this cause? You'd have soon lead by example if this is your all," Anos says, matter-of-fact tone, stepping from out of the smoke.
In Anos' right fist are the last two of the ten-wings Kokabiel used to proudly adorn. In his left grasps Kokabiel's other arm. The Cadre is an armless, wingless-husk, set on his frontside. He laid almost unmoving with only the slight rise and fall from his chest to signify a bit of consciousness.
Still, Kokabiel speaks like a decrepit fool, "With... that power you possess, you cannot possibly desire peace."
Anos steps on and over Valper's corpse during his approach to Kokabiel. He doesn't say anything, and he doesn't need to. He had already claimed the arms and wings and right now, all Anos desired was Kokabiel's severed head.
"You may very well be the one to break me," Kokabiel actually chuckles and spits a puddle of blood between his reddened lips, it was like a crimson sea, "but know that you very well will break the world too."
Anos is standing over him, a foot upon his throat, his leg sinking down more and more onto Kokabiel's legs. The fallen's vision blackens.
"There is no truth in your divination," Anos says, "You do not predict life or death of anyone other than yourself, so still your tongue and begone."
Anos crushes Kokabiel's head beneath his shoe. There is a sickly squelch of a sound and the fallen leader's head rolls haphazardly away before abruptly stopping two paces away. There is more violence in that single motion than anything seen from the rest of the battlefield beforehand.
This pretend-war was over.
Naturally, that is when the excitement begins again. It starts with the descent of a snow-like light.
The sky fizzles and bleeds white momentarily, the moonlight sneaks in through the hole. All eyes of everyone present had fixed on something far above.
Through the air, a dragon falls; a white dragon.
Similar to Issei's Balance Breaker, that Scale Mail armory bears a few differences but striking familiarity. The material, barely distinguishable from Issei's. White gleams— sturdy, shiny, and bulky— all over the body, the tail is so tightly swaddled in the armor that they are barely distinguishable from one another. It is a deep white, patterned with gilded blue gems, and gold eyes. All in all, it seems perfectly majestic for a warrior.
"Hello," they say. "It's nice to finally meet you."