The Holy Blade process was… oddly calm.
Yasaka placed the plain, unremarkable sword into the basin of Spirit Bond Energy Water. The liquid shimmered faintly, neither warm nor cold, reacting more to intent than temperature.
Sunlight broke through the clouds at just the right angle, pouring down like a blessing that had been patiently waiting its turn.
Charms were hung in a circle.
Sutras were chanted—not loudly, not dramatically, but steadily, rhythmically, as dozens of yokai lent their voices. It wasn't force that sanctified the blade.
It was agreement.
Raiju padded forward, tail flicking. He looked at the sword, tilted his head—
Then released a small, precise spark of divine lightning.
It didn't strike.
It tapped.
The sword rang softly.
Yasaka nodded in approval.
"Good. Just enough."
The blade began to glow—not blinding, not flashy—just a clean, steady light, like dawn filtered through shrine gates.
Nate watched quietly.
No system notifications.
No dramatic visions.
No voices proclaiming destiny.
Just… something right taking shape.
Fumika clasped her hands.
"It's accepting the blessing."
Whisper dabbed nonexistent sweat from his face.
"Ah yes, nothing more terrifying than a holy artifact forming without exploding."
Blizzaria crossed her arms, smirking.
"So this one's the patient type."
Yasaka covered the basin with a sacred cloth and stepped back.
"Alright," she said calmly.
"Now we wait two days."
Nate blinked.
"…That's it?"
Yasaka smiled knowingly.
"Holiness that rushes tends to crack."
Raiju hopped up onto the table beside the basin, curled around it protectively, and yawned—tiny sparks crackling from his fur.
Aaron leaned over and whispered,
"So what happens if someone touches it early?"
Everyone looked at him.
Yasaka answered gently.
"They would be rejected."
Serafall nodded.
"Violently."
Aaron slowly withdrew his hand.
"Cool. Very cool."
The sword rested in silence.
And for the first time since this whole hunt began—
Nothing tried to kill them.
Which somehow made Nate more nervous than anything else.
Later that day, as the house settled into a rare, quiet lull, Nate found himself staring at the calendar on the wall.
2020.
He leaned back on the couch, arms folded, eyes half-lidded—not tired, just thinking.
'After living this long in DxD…'
His thoughts drifted.
'This is a side of the world DxD never shows.'
Not the devils' politics.
Not the fallen angels scheming.
Not the church moving pieces on a board.
Just… life.
A peaceful Yokai faction. Families. Shrines. Arguments about swords and blessings instead of wars and rankings.
'I know this is a fusion world with Yo-kai Watch… but still.'
He glanced toward the window, where the Frost Realm's chill still lingered faintly in the air, like a memory refusing to fade.
'Was the Yokai world always this peaceful in DxD timelines and we just never saw it?'
Or—
'Is this peace because of the fusion?'
The prophecy echoed in the back of his mind, unwelcome but persistent.
Yokai King.
Balance bearer.
One who stands between worlds.
Nate exhaled slowly.
'This world really is different.'
Then another thought hit him, sharper this time.
'Next year… is when DxD's main plot is supposed to start.'
He opened his eyes fully and looked back at the calendar.
2020.
'Canon DxD starts in 2008.'
He frowned.
'That alone is already off.'
Then his lips twitched faintly.
'And COVID hit this world in 2018.'
He shook his head, rubbing his temple.
'Yeah… multiverse logic is wild.'
Different timelines.
Shifted histories.
Merged worlds compensating for contradictions in their own way.
Maybe the world needed peace somewhere to balance out the chaos that was coming.
Nate stared at the ceiling.
'If DxD starts next year…'
Then the calm he was enjoying right now?
It wasn't an accident.
It was the calm before the plot.
And this time—
He wasn't some background human.
He was already on the board.
Nate closed his eyes and sighed.
'Guess I better enjoy the quiet while it lasts.'
The next morning came far too loudly.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Nate jolted awake, instincts kicking in. He rolled out of bed, still in his PJs, grabbed the fire extinguisher from the hallway like this was a trained reflex, and sprinted downstairs.
"Not again—!"
He skidded to a stop.
The kitchen wasn't on fire.
…Barely.
Smoke hung in the air like a defeated enemy. The toaster looked traumatized. Eggs lay in the pan, half-cooked and half-obliterated, as if they'd survived a small-scale battlefield. The bacon—or what used to be bacon—was somewhere between charcoal and regret.
And in the middle of it all stood Kunou.
She was holding a spatula like a sword she didn't quite trust, ears flat, tails drooping slightly, cheeks pink with embarrassment.
"S-surprise…" she said softly. "I tried to make breakfast for you."
Nate blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then his gaze slowly drifted from the culinary disaster… back to her.
Before he could say anything, something shifted inside his pajama shirt.
Raiju poked his head out, tiny sparks crackling lazily around his ears. He looked at the pan. Looked at the toaster. Looked at the smoke.
Then he quietly turned around, crawled back into Nate's shirt, and went right back to sleep.
Nate snorted before he could stop himself.
Kunou winced slightly. "I—I followed the recipe. Mostly. I think."
Nate set the fire extinguisher down and walked over, gently turning off the stove and opening a window. The smoke alarm finally stopped its screaming protest.
He looked back at her, then smiled—soft, warm, not teasing.
"You didn't burn the house down," he said. "That's already an achievement."
Her ears twitched. "R-really?"
He nodded. "Yeah. And… you didn't have to do this, you know."
Kunou looked down, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. "I wanted to. You always cook for everyone. I thought… maybe I could do something back."
Nate's expression softened.
He reached out and gently patted her head, careful not to mess up her hair. Her tails immediately started swaying despite herself.
"Next time," he said lightly, "we'll cook together."
Her eyes lit up. "T-together?"
"Together," he confirmed. "Breakfast survives, and nobody goes to war with the eggs."
Kunou giggled quietly.
Behind them, Raiju snored.
The kitchen might have lost the battle…
…but Nate decided it was still a pretty good morning.
Kunou blinked, her ears perking up.
"Wait… where ev—"
She stopped mid-sentence.
The stairs filled.
Aaron came down first, holding a fire extinguisher like a war veteran responding to muscle memory alone.
Lily followed, already halfway through a chant before realizing nothing was actively exploding.
Yasaka was behind her, calm but prepared, foxfire flickering faintly around her fingers.
Hailey walked in rubbing her eyes, extinguisher over her shoulder like this was just another weekday.
Fumika appeared last, adjusting her glasses, Yokai Pendant glowing faintly.
They all froze.
Silence.
Everyone stared at the kitchen.
The smoke.
The ruined breakfast.
The very alive house.
Aaron slowly lowered his extinguisher. "…Huh. Not me this time."
Lily exhaled in relief. "Praise Amaterasu."
Hailey glanced at the pan, then at Kunou. "So. First attempt?"
Kunou shrank a little, tails drooping. "I… wanted to surprise Nate…"
There was a pause.
Then—
Aaron laughed. A full, genuine laugh. "Hey, kid, if that's your first disaster, you're already doing better than I did."
Yasaka smiled knowingly. "A rite of passage in this household."
Fumika nodded seriously. "Statistically speaking, cooking disasters are inevitable here."
Hailey smirked. "We keep extinguishers on every floor for a reason."
Nate rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. "Yeah… after Dad's third toaster incident, it just became policy."
Raiju popped his head out of Nate's shirt again, yawned, looked around at the crowd with extinguishers, sparked once in approval, and went back to sleep.
Kunou stared.
Then she laughed. Soft at first… then brighter.
After that, Lily gently guided Kunou out of the blast radius—also known as the stove—and Nate rolled up his sleeves.
"Alright," Lily said, tying her apron. "Round two."
Nate nodded. "Double portions. Everyone's awake now anyway."
They moved in sync, like they'd done this a thousand times before.
Pans heated evenly. Ingredients were measured without looking. The chaos from earlier faded as the kitchen shifted from disaster zone to five-star battlefield.
Kunou watched from the table, tail swaying slowly.
"…You two look scary when you cook together."
Aaron, still holding his extinguisher, nodded solemnly. "That's how you know it's safe."
Minutes later, the smell hit.
Not just good.
Weaponized good.
Buttery pancakes, perfectly crisp bacon, eggs cooked just right, rice steaming gently, and something sweet and warm that made the air feel heavy with comfort.
The scent didn't stop at the house.
It drifted.
Down spiritual ley lines.
Across realms.
Through barriers that were never meant to block breakfast.
—
In the Underworld.
Izanami paused mid-step.
Her stomach growled.
"…Why," she muttered, pressing a hand to her abdomen, "do I suddenly want pancakes?"
Nearby devils stopped, sniffing the air.
One of them frowned. "Is… is someone cooking?"
Another looked toward the ceiling. "From Earth?"
Izanami's eye twitched.
"…That human again."
—
Back at the house, Nate set the final plate down.
"Done."
The table filled instantly.
Kuroka nearly purred.
Hailey didn't speak—she was too busy inhaling pancakes at unsafe speeds.
Fumika closed her eyes in bliss.
Even the Yo-kai who technically didn't need food leaned closer, just to feel it.
Kunou took a bite.
Her eyes widened.
"…This is unfair."
Lily smiled. "Cooking is love, dear."
Nate scratched his cheek. "And apparently a multi-realm phenomenon."
Somewhere far below, Izanami sneezed.
"…I swear," she said, glaring at nothing, "one day I'm eating at that house."
The Underworld agreed—with growling stomachs.
Back in the Adams house.
Nate looked at Yasaka as he spoke. "So, how much longer until that blade becomes a Holy blade?"
Yasaka thought for a bit as she spoke. "12 more hours".
Hailey looked at her phone. "It's 8 in the morning right now".
Yasaka nodded calmly. "Which means it will finish by eight tonight."
Nate let out a slow breath. "Good. That gives us time."
Kunou tilted her head, tails swaying. "Time for what?"
Hailey answered without looking up from her phone. "Time for something to go wrong. It's practically scheduled."
Kuroka laughed softly. "Nyaa~ she's not wrong. Whenever we 'have time,' the universe hears it as an invitation."
Fumika clasped her hands. "At least this time, the blade is protected, right?"
Yasaka gestured toward the corner of the room. Multiple layered barriers shimmered faintly, Yokai charms hanging from them, sutras etched into the floor, and Raiju curled nearby like a living alarm system.
"It is guarded by spiritual seals, divine blessings, lightning, and an annoyed thunder puppy," Yasaka said evenly. "If something tries to interfere, it will regret existing."
Raiju lifted his head, sparks crackling lazily, then flopped back down.
Nate nodded, reassured. "Okay, that's… comforting."
Aaron sipped his tea. "So until tonight, we're just… waiting?"
Whisper floated up, tapping his tablet. "Waiting, training, or preparing for the inevitable surprise attack that always happens when one least expects it."
Hailey deadpanned. "So waiting."
Nate stretched and stood up. "Alright then. Light training, no summoning anything above S-rank, and absolutely no cooking experiments."
Kunou looked away innocently.
"…I said experiments."
She pouted. "I just wanted to help."
Nate softened immediately, patting her head. "I know. We'll practice together later. Safely."
Kuroka smirked. "Aww~ the responsible Yokai King to be."
Nate sighed. "I hate that this title keeps being accurate."
Yasaka smiled faintly as she watched them. Twelve hours remained—but for once, everything felt… calm.
Which, of course, meant the universe was already planning something.
The next twelve hours passed… normally.
Which, for this house, already felt suspicious.
---
Training came first.
The yard echoed with movement as Nate and Hailey sparred. Hailey came in fast—direct, aggressive, no hesitation. Her fist snapped forward, sharp and brutal.
Nate didn't meet it head-on.
He shifted.
Her momentum slid past him as his palm redirected her wrist, his body turning with the flow instead of stopping it. In the same motion, he nudged her balance off-center and sent her stumbling back a step.
"Sorry," Nate said automatically.
Hailey blinked, then grinned. "Don't apologize for improving."
He rolled his shoulders, breathing steady.
'Getting closer…' he thought. 'Not Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist—but something that fits this world.'
His version wasn't perfect. Less absolute, more adaptive. Flow, redirect, return. Spirit instead of water. Yokai logic instead of anime physics.
Kunou watched with sparkling eyes. "Nate's movements are getting smoother."
Fumika nodded. "It feels… calm. Like he isn't forcing it."
Serafall leaned on Kuroka's shoulder. "If he keeps this up, even high-class Devils are going to have a bad day."
Nate pretended he didn't hear that.
Later came games.
Console controllers were scattered across the table. Jibanyan was yelling at the screen, Whisper was "strategically advising," and Raiju was batting at electrical effects like they were real prey.
"No, no, no—YOU DRAW TWO!" Hailey slammed a card down during Uno.
Insomnia immediately stacked another card. "Draw four."
Foiletta gasped dramatically. "That's cruel."
Blizzaria smiled sweetly. "Necessary."
Ten seconds later, the living room nearly exploded when Serafall attempted to magically reshuffle the deck after losing.
"NO MAGIC IN UNO!" everyone shouted in unison.
Yasaka calmly reinforced the walls without comment.
TV time followed.
Someone put on a magical girl show. No one admitted who.
Serafall sat up straight, eyes shining. "This is historically accurate."
Hailey stared. "In what universe."
"Mine."
Nate snorted into his drink.
And just like that… evening arrived.
No alarms. No hostile Yokai. No dimensional rifts. No surprise Demon Lords.
The holy blade still glowed quietly in its seals, counting down the final hours.
Nate leaned back on the couch, exhaling.
"…That was peaceful."
Everyone froze.
Kuroka slowly turned her head. "Kitten."
Kunou's ears twitched. "You shouldn't say that."
Whisper adjusted his tablet nervously. "Statistically speaking, peace is a precursor event to chaos."
Outside, thunder rumbled once.
Raiju lifted his head.
Nate sighed. "Right. My bad."
Eight p.m. was getting closer.
And nothing ever stayed quiet for long.
Outside few minutes later
The Yokai Watch flashed.
Click—WHIRR.
Three summoning circles burst open in quick succession, each glowing a different hue.
Gold. Purple. White.
The Chansin Brothers emerged together, landing in perfect formation before immediately dropping to one knee.
"WE, THE CHANSIN BROTHERS—"
"—ANSWER THE CALL—"
"—OF THE WATCH HOLDER!"
Their voices overlapped with dramatic precision.
Nate winced slightly. "…Inside voices, guys."
They straightened up instantly.
The air in the room felt heavy—not threatening, but significant. Yasaka's ears flicked, sensing destiny settling into place.
Nate crossed his arms, looking at the sealed blade resting in the spirit-bond water. The charms fluttered as the final minutes ticked down.
"Alright," he said, calm but serious.
"We've got three blades."
He raised three fingers.
"Legendary Blade."
"Cursed Blade."
"Holy Blade."
The room went silent.
Even Raiju stopped crackling.
"The Holy Blade finishes baking in five minutes," Nate continued. "Once it's done, we decide. No take-backs."
He looked directly at the Chansin Brothers.
"So—who wants to be who?"
---
The Eldest Chansin stepped forward first, eyes steady, voice deep.
"I shall bear the Holy Blade."
Light gathered faintly around him as he spoke.
"A blade that protects, purifies, and stands against corruption… suits a path of restraint and responsibility."
Yasaka nodded approvingly.
The Second Chansin laughed softly, shadows curling around his feet.
"Then the Cursed Blade is mine."
His grin was sharp, but not cruel.
"A curse is not evil by default—it is a burden. One I am willing to shoulder so others do not have to."
Kuroka's tail swayed. "Smart answer."
All eyes turned to the Youngest Chansin.
He blinked.
Then pumped his fist enthusiastically. "LEGENDARY BLADE!"
"…I like flashy things."
Serafall clapped. "Excellent reasoning!"
Nate stared at them for a long second.
Then nodded.
"…Yeah. That checks out."
The seals around the spirit water flared brightly.
Five minutes were almost up.
The Holy Blade pulsed once—
like a heartbeat.
Something old.
Something righteous.
And the house held its breath.
The moment the blades were claimed, the room changed.
Not violently.
Not explosively.
It felt like the world itself leaned in to watch.
The Legendary Blade rang first—clear, proud, and resonant.
The Cursed Blade followed with a low, distorted hum, like a promise whispered in the dark.
And finally, the Holy Blade answered—not loud, but absolute, its light steady and unwavering.
The three Chansin Brothers lifted their weapons—
—and the air shattered into motion.
---
Light surged upward.
The Yokai Watch spun wildly on Nate's wrist, symbols flashing faster than Whisper could narrate.
The Legendary Blade bearer was engulfed in radiant gold and steel-blue light. His ragged form straightened, armor reforging itself into something sleek and heroic. The straw hat reshaped into a refined helm-like brim, his stance confident, balanced—chosen.
When the light faded, Sheen stood tall.
[Insert image of Sheen]
His eyes burned with resolve, his blade resting calmly at his side like a knight awaiting his next quest.
Serafall whistled. "Oh wow. He looks like the protagonist."
Nate nodded. "Yeah… that tracks."
The Cursed Blade screamed next.
Shadows tore outward, crawling like ink across the floor. The Yokai's silhouette warped—elongated, sharper, more dangerous. His cloak shredded and reformed into layered tatters, pulsing with dark energy. The hat cracked and reassembled, charms hanging unevenly, whispering curses only he could hear.
When the darkness settled, Snee emerged.
[Insert image of Snee]
His presence felt wrong—but controlled.
Not madness.
Burden.
Kuroka's ears twitched. "That one chose the hard road."
Snee didn't smile—but his eyes gleamed with grim satisfaction.
Then came the Holy Blade.
No explosion.
No scream.
Just light.
Golden radiance flowed outward like sunrise after a long night. The Yokai within was lifted gently, robes reforged into pristine white and gold. His hat became radiant, glowing charms swaying softly as if blessed by unseen hands.
When he descended, Gleem knelt instinctively.
[Insert image of Gleem]
His entire form shone with calm authority, his blade humming with purity.
Yasaka closed her eyes, tail flicking once in approval.
"A proper guardian."
The three rose together.
Sheen.
Snee.
Gleem.
No longer brothers bound by chance—but by choice.
The Yokai Watch chimed one final time.
Whisper gasped dramatically.
"M-Master Nate! This is unprecedented! Three separate evolutionary paths—balanced across legend, curse, and sanctity!"
Nate stared at them for a long moment.
Then sighed.
"…Great. My party just got upgraded."
The three Yokai bowed deeply.
"We will walk our chosen paths," Sheen said.
"We will bear the cost," Snee added.
"And we will stand when needed," Gleem finished.
Nate rubbed his face.
'Prophecy really is speedrunning my life,' he thought.
Raiju crackled happily.
And somewhere far away—
even Ophis smiled, sensing the story advancing exactly the way she liked it.
To be continued
Hope people like this Ch and give me power stones and enjoy