Chapter 20: The Cost of the Wildcard and the Shadow of the Holy Sword
The world didn't just fade; it shattered.
As Lucian collapsed into Akeno's lap, the physical reality of the ORC clubroom dissolved into a hazy, pulsing red. The "Surgical Destruction" he had utilized against Riser was never meant to be held within a human-shaped vessel for long. By compressing the entropic energy of the Gremory bloodline into needle-thin threads, he had effectively turned his own right arm into a pressurized container for a miniature black hole.
"Lucian! Focus on my voice!" Akeno's voice, usually a playful purr, was sharp with genuine terror. She stared at his right hand, which was spasming violently, glowing with a sickly black-and-white static that seemed to eat the very air around it. "What did you do to yourself? This isn't just exhaustion—this is a void-backlash!"
Lucian couldn't form a full sentence. His teeth were gritted so hard he thought they might shatter. "Rating game... compressed... no place to go..."
Akeno's eyes widened as she realized the truth. "You idiot! You kept it all inside? You were in the infirmary for two days and didn't say a word to Rias? Not to me? Not even to Asia?" She began stripping the glove from his hand, her fingers trembling. "If Sirzechs-sama saw this... if the Satan knew you were experimenting with unstable compression, he'd have you sealed in a tomb for your own safety!"
"Don't..." Lucian gasped, his fingers curling like scorched parchment. He made a weak hand signal toward his phone. "Don't tell... Grayfia."
"I am absolutely telling Grayfia!" Akeno snapped, though her hands were already glowing with a stabilizing golden-blue light.
She knew she couldn't just cast a healing spell; the Power of Destruction would simply "eat" the healing mana and grow stronger. She had to drain the excess. In a move that was purely Akeno—balancing medical necessity with her own sadistic brand of affection—she leaned down.
She took his pulsing, spasming hand and began to draw the excess mana out through direct contact. It was a high-level mana-suction technique, but performed with a lingering, rhythmic intensity that blurred the line between a life-saving procedure and a scandalous provocation. She licked the length of his forearm, her tongue acting as a conductor for the stagnant energy, pulling the black sparks into her own body to be neutralized by her lightning-aspected mana.
"Akeno... stop... people... are watching..." Lucian groaned, though the agonizing pressure in his skull was finally beginning to subside.
"Ara ara, you're so cute when you're helpless," she whispered against his skin, her eyes flashing with a predatory gleam. "Besides, Issei-kun is already traumatized. A little more won't hurt him."
Issei, who had been standing by the sofa, was currently experiencing a nosebleed of biblical proportions. He watched for exactly ten seconds before his brain began to smoke.
"You carry on, bro," Issei squeaked, holding a hand over his face. "I... I have to go see Asia-chan. My hand is suddenly throbbing, too. For... medical reasons. Yeah." He slid out of the room with the speed of a man who had seen a glimpse of a forbidden heaven.
The Weight of a Secret
Once the room was quiet, Akeno pinned Lucian down on the sofa, her hands resting on his shoulders. The black-and-white static had vanished, replaced by a dull, manageable ache.
"We're going to have to do this often, Lucian-kun," she said, her voice dropping the teasing lilt for a moment. "Your right hand is scarred. You can't compress the Power of Destruction like that again. It's like trying to hold a lightning storm in a glass bottle."
Lucian leaned back into the cushions, his body finally going limp as the adrenaline ebbed away. "I had to... Rias wouldn't have won... if I didn't buy that time."
Akeno watched him, her expression softening into something uncharacteristically maternal. She ran her fingers through his crimson hair, smoothing out the sweat-matted locks.
"You took it all on yourself," she muttered to the sleeping boy, her voice barely a whisper. "You didn't fight at the front, so people think you didn't sacrifice. But you took the responsibility that should have been shared. You sacrificed your own circuits to give us the opening to crush Riser."
She leaned down, her lips brushing his forehead in a silent, respectful gesture. "Reckless idiot."
The Domestic Storm and the Elegant Departure
Lucian woke up at 7:30 PM with his head still pillowed on Akeno's lap.
"Ara ara, the Sleeping Prince returns," Akeno giggled. "The President is going to kill us both. We're already late for the meeting at Issei's house."
"Why didn't you wake me?" Lucian groaned, rubbing his eyes.
"You were sleeping so cutely, I didn't have the heart to disturb you," she said, though the mischievous glint in her eye suggested she just enjoyed the view.
Tamamo popped out of the shadows, her tails twitching. "You're a pervert, Akeno-san. As usual."
Lucian looked at his familiar. "I thought you were on a strike for a week, fox?"
"That was a technical fault," Tamamo huffed, crossing her tiny paws. "The 'me' that was angry is currently in maintenance. The 'me' that loves you is back. Besides, you said you couldn't be without me. That was... acceptable."
"I'm glad you're back," Lucian said, standing up. "Now, where's my shadow?"
Yubelluna stepped out from the hallway, dressed in her formal assistant attire. She was still pouting slightly, her eyes averted. "I am ready, my Lord. The transport is prepared."
"Why the long face, Yubel?" Lucian asked, taking her hand. She flinched, then relaxed as he squeezed her fingers. "We'll go to that restaurant you liked after the meeting, okay? Just us."
The pout vanished instantly, replaced by a tiny, triumphant smile that she tried to hide behind her collar.
The Hyoudou Residence: Chaos and Childhood
The group reached Issei's house, which was already vibrating with the kind of energy only the Hyoudou parents could provide. Lucian had to practically drag Issei into the house; the Red Dragon Emperor had been caught trying to spy on the girls' locker room earlier and was now claiming he was "too injured" to attend.
"You said you were going to be a responsible devil this morning!" Lucian muttered, hauling Issei up the front steps.
"That was an imposter! I've been replaced by a clone!" Issei wailed.
Inside, the living room was a minefield of embarrassment. Issei's parents had brought out the childhood photo albums. Asia was blushing a deep scarlet, looking at a picture of a five-year-old Issei running around without pants. Rias was smiling, her eyes twinkling with genuine affection, while Akeno was already memorizing the photos for future teasing material.
Lucian sat near the edge of the room, his eyes scanning the group. He felt the peace, the warmth of the home—but then his gaze landed on Yuuto Kiba.
The Knight was staring at a photo Issei's mother had produced: a picture of Issei and a childhood friend holding toy swords.
Lucian's breath hitched. He felt the "narrative weight" shift. In his memories of the High School DxD anime, this was the trigger. The "Holy Sword Project" was about to rear its ugly head.
"Is something wrong, Kiba?" Lucian asked, his voice low and cautious.
Kiba didn't look up immediately. His grip on his tea cup was so tight the ceramic was beginning to groan. "It's nothing... just... swords. They aren't toys, are they?"
"Yuuto?" Rias noticed the change in her Knight's aura. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, Buchou," Kiba said, his voice cold and hollow. "I just... I realized I forgot something at the club. Please excuse me."
He stood up abruptly and left the house before anyone could stop him. The atmosphere in the room died instantly. Issei blinked, his "high" disappearing. "Kiba? Hey, wait!"
Rias went silent, her expression becoming grave. "The peace time is over," Lucian whispered to himself.
The Sofa, the Bed, and the Shadow
After the meeting broke up under the heavy cloud of Kiba's departure, Rias and Lucian returned to the ORC. Yubelluna, acting as Lucian's shadow, had already claimed a spot on the edge of the bed in Lucian's room, her eyes closed in a "silent strike" to show she was still annoyed about Akeno's mana-suction.
"Tamamo, you take the sofa," Lucian instructed.
Rias looked at Lucian, noticing the way his hand was still trembling slightly despite Akeno's treatment. "Lucian... come to my room. It has better ventilation. The AC is on."
"I'll be fine on the sofa in your room, then," Lucian agreed, too tired to argue.
He collapsed onto the velvet sofa in Rias's quarters, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep almost instantly. He didn't feel the magical circle Rias cast. He didn't feel his body being lifted by a gentle levitation spell and moved from the hard sofa to the soft, silk-covered mattress of her bed.
Lucian unknowingly rolled over, cuddling into the warmth beside him. Rias lay there, watching him in the moonlight. She saw the scars on his hand, the exhaustion etched into his face, and the way he clung to her even in his sleep.
"You've done so much for me," Rias whispered, pulling the duvet over both of them. "You took the fire, you took the backlash, and you took the responsibility. For tonight... let me be the one to care for you."
As Lucian slept in the warmth of the Gremory Heiress, miles away, the sound of steel clashing echoed through a dark alleyway.
Yuuto Kiba stood before a man in a priest's outfit, his "Sword Birth" manifesting in a jagged, hateful edge. The Holy Sword Project had returned, and the elegant peace Lucian had fought so hard to build was about to be cut to ribbons.