Beta read by Shigiya
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-Underworld-
From the beginning, I had taken into consideration several possibilities while facing Diodora. I knew little about him, truthfully, even after learning the basic information that the red-headed weeb princess gave me along with the succubus that pretends to look like an angel — in the end, it wasn't enough.
Yet, there were certain things about his character that were obvious.
Arrogant as they came. Absolutely, unashamedly convinced of his own superiority.
A liar, too and a bad one too. The kind who couldn't hide his spiteful opinions, especially when it came to humans, whom he loathed with a sneer laid bare like poison on his tongue behind a placid, innocent smile.
Spoiled rotten, like most Devils were. There wasn't a shred of self-restraint or humility to be found. Which was obvious with his current actions.
And finally narcissistic, so much so that he would fail to properly read others and make obvious observations just from the basic idea that anyone would bend their knee just because of the name attached to him. His meeting and conversation with Rias about trading Asia still remained fresh in my head as if it were yesterday, and all of these factors combined, I used to my advantage.
But despite how broken my team seemed, especially with the muscle-headed Bael heir tagging along just because he thought that it was fun, I couldn't just storm inside and start a battle royale with one side coming out victorious. He had an unknown number of Devil subordinates, mages, and possibly other monsters.
Being the heir to a major underworld clan meant Diodora would have serious protection. I couldn't ignore that.
So the best approach was to somehow seclude him from all his toys and bodyguards. The only way to do that was to use his arrogance and hatred against me, to bait him out like a fish. Kuroka, with her expertise in Soujutsu, Senjutsu, and some illusion magic, served as a perfect counter against the bounded field set around the Manor. With Rossweiss and Kalawarna helping out with their arsenal of spells, walking past it without being detected would be no issue. Even Xenovia managed to pass through it despite carrying a holy sword.
With them being busy taking out the grunts, everything relied on Sairaorg, who had to deliver a good performance and keep up the act long enough to draw Diodora out of his hole and capture him once and for all with minimal effort. All of that turned out quite well, not to tug my own toot, but I felt quite proud of myself.
But for all my planning, I'd overlooked something crucial.
"Oh… Ophis is gone."
The realization hit me like a freight train in a split second, and right on cue, as if the universe enjoyed timing its punchlines, it happened.
Whoosh!
A wave of dense demonic energy slammed into all three of us the instant that thought crossed my mind.
"Urgh!"
I felt my feet leave the ground before I could even brace myself. The pressure felt less like an explosion and more like being caught in the middle of a violent storm front, the air itself turning solid and shoving me backward. For a moment, I genuinely thought I was about to be blown across the field like loose trash on a windy day. Thankfully, my knight in not-so-shining armor reacted fast enough to grab hold of me. His hand locked around my arm while his boots dug deep into the ground, carving shallow trenches in the dirt. His other hand pressed down to stabilize himself, muscles taut, body steady as if he had roots buried beneath him. The Valkyrie beside us reinforced her footing with magic, a faint glow spreading around her boots as she anchored herself in place.
"Hahaha, what a spectacle you presented us, Diodora! Since when was this guy this powerful? I'm pretty sure I would have known about this long before."
"He is using borrowed powers," I muttered through clenched teeth.
The words tasted bitter. I resisted the urge to slam my forehead into the nearest tree that did not currently exist. The one who sent me to meet Rizevim had been this lunatic in the first place. Of course, they would be working together. And Ophis had joined the other side because of me. Why would they want her back? The answer was painfully simple. To them, she was a walking battery. Judging from the overwhelming pressure radiating from his body, she had clearly supplied him with far more than a polite donation.
"Die!"
To his credit, he did not waste time on a dramatic speech. No long explanation about his motives or tragic past. Just action. A burst of green demonic energy erupted from his palm, expanding outward in an uneven dome that swallowed the ground in front of him. The grass blackened instantly, soil lifted and disintegrated, and loose debris vanished the moment it touched the surface of that expanding sphere.
We did not wait to test our luck. All three of us leapt away at once, though in my case, that was generous phrasing. I was still being carried around like royalty who had misplaced her dignity. Sairaorg shifted me effortlessly, moving with long strides while keeping his balance.
"You've got to be kidding me. What kind of ridiculous and convenient power boost is that?" I muttered under my breath, forcing a thin smile as I watched the dome continue to spread.
I couldn't even use Vritra yet, and the dome showed no sign of slowing down. It kept expanding in steady increments, swallowing more ground with each passing second.
"Just how much power did she give him?"
"Oh, he should be Satan level and above by now."
Of course, Sairaorg would say something like that with a relaxed grin. I did not need to read his mind to know he was enjoying this. His eyes carried that familiar look, the kind that suggested he was already planning his next charge forward.
"Before you rush in there and have your fun, mind telling me what the Astaroth clan's ability is again?"
I had an idea, but I wouldn't mind a refresher along with some time.
"Actually, I'm not sure. Kuisha usually tells me those things. I tend to forget."
Naturally. Of all the people to rely on for historical clan data, I had picked the one who treated information like optional background noise. I swallowed the sigh threatening to escape.
"Let's experiment a bit then. Try to attack him."
"I was planning to."
No further discussion followed. He lunged forward with a powerful step, the ground cracking under the force. Dirt and small stones flew outward as he charged straight toward the expanding dome. Instead of skirting around it, he pushed directly through. The dense demonic energy pressed against him, distorting the air around his body, yet it barely managed to leave more than shallow burns across his clothes. Fabric tore, smoke rose briefly from the contact points, but his skin remained mostly intact.
"A monster through and through." Something told me that this guy could also, maybe, just waltz through Absolute Delete Field if I were to deploy that thing. Even an entity like Kokabiel could barely survive it for several seconds. But this guy? I did not even want to think about it.
He erased the distance between them in a single step and drove his fist forward, the punch cleanly making its way to the Devil with nothing obstructing it at first, carrying enough force to cave in a ribcage and stop a normal heart on the spot.
Unfortunately, it never reached its target.
A thick, translucent shield flared into existence and took the blow head-on. It did not shake, nor did it crack, even after that thunderous boom as his knuckles met that barrier with a dull impact that echoed across the clearing.
"I knew it."
His speciality lay in barrier magic, or at least for combat.
"Heh, the strongest of the young generation devils? Don't make me laugh. You're nothing more than a lowborn devil who didn't even inherit his clan's ability. I'll take this opportunity to clean up the stain on the Bael clan and make sure that the title goes to where it rightfully deserves."
So Diodora had a grudge against that guy as well? Why was I not surprised? It was obvious that he would be jealous of someone stronger than him.
Good to know the list of people who wanted this idiot dead was longer than I thought.
A concentrated beam of demonic energy gathered in his palm and fired straight at the shielded devil. This was not something that could be shrugged off with a casual flex, but from my understanding, it remained a simple offensive spell. The blast connected and forced him back, his body flying through the air at an angle that unfortunately pointed straight toward me.
"Shit!"
Seeing a human-shaped projectile hurtling in my direction at that speed did something unpleasant to my internal organs. For a second, I froze.
"Idiot, I can still use spells!"
Why was I acting like I had no options? That moment of hesitation only proved how reliant I had become on Vritra. Depending on borrowed power was convenient, but it dulled the basics. Dozens of formulas ran through my head in rapid succession before one surfaced from memory. I had last used it years ago while fumbling around with newly grown wings and a bruised ego.
Touki wrapped around my body, tightening along my muscles and bones, reinforcing each fiber so I would not snap like dry wood. I raised my hand and invoked one of the most basic spells ever forced upon newly recruited mages.
"Levitate."
Unlike most spells that required drawn-out chants and layered circles filled with complex symbols, this one formed instantly. A single-layered magic circle unfolded in front of my palm. The effect took hold. His body slowed mid-air, momentum reduced for a tiny bit, just enough for me to step forward and catch him.
"Gah!"
Turns out catching a flying devil still hurts, even with reinforcement. He slammed into my chest like a battering ram. The impact forced the air out of my lungs and drove my boots into the dirt, carving two shallow trenches behind me. My ribs protested. My spine reconsidered its life choices. Goodbye relaxation. Hello, weeks of breathing like an old man climbing stairs.
At least Asia was nearby. The girl was practically a walking healing pod. If things got worse, I could always splurge on a phoenix tear. Expensive, but cheaper than a funeral.
"Hachiman!"
Rossweisse rushed over, her expression tight with worry. I waved her off with one hand, trying not to cough and not accidentally spit some blood in her face.
"I'm fine. Just dirty and bruised."
There were no visible wounds on either of us, only torn fabric and dust clinging to our clothes. Satisfied for the moment, she turned back toward our opponent and raised both hands. What followed could only be described as a rain of spells. One after another, complex magic circles layered across the air as blasts descended in rapid succession. Each spell carried enough force to level a house by itself.
Watching her work kinda put things in perspective. Despite her tendency to trip over nothing, the drinking that makes her into a sad drunk, and her questionable survival skills in the normal human world, she was still a Valkyrie entrusted with guarding the leader of the Norse gods. That position did not go to someone incompetent. Titles like that were earned through results.
"Well, that's something. You've got quite the team, I must say, Hachiman."
"Unfortunately, she's not actually part of my team. She got dragged into this mess because of Odin."
The main ability of the Astaroth clan was deceptively unimpressive at first glance. People heard it and assumed it meant simple barrier construction or efficient energy blasts. That misunderstanding tended to get them killed. It was about calculation and extreme efficiency. The ability to process complex spell formulas at absurd speeds and optimize them on the fly.
Ajuka just went above and beyond to create the Kankara Formula. Diodora's barrier was quite particular, as I couldn't recognize its origin, but the other spells were basic ones used by mages.
"It didn't leave a scratch!" Rossweisse exclaimed, frustration slipping into her voice. "His barrier abilities are impressive!"
"It's not a barrier. It's an ability that lets him perform complex calculations far faster and more efficiently."
In the hands of someone like Ajuka, that kind of ability would be terrifying. Precise, optimized magic deployed with perfect timing would tear battlefields apart. In Diodora's hands, though, it felt wasted. He was not known for brilliance. His first move had already proven he preferred overwhelming force over refined strategy.
"Dance, dance, you fools! Hahaha!"
He laughed loudly, arms spread as if this were some twisted performance. Not even a full minute after gaining these powers, and he was already drunk on them. Fantastic.
"Not even a second wielding these powers, and he's already gone crazy. Great."
Expecting rational behavior from someone like him had been my first mistake. I forced myself to slow down and think instead of reacting. If he had a pattern in the way he cast his spells, then there had to be a gap somewhere. People liked to believe power erased the need for structure, but even idiots followed habits. Meanwhile, Sairaorg did not retreat after that setback. A wide grin stretched across his face as he rushed back into the fray without hesitation, clearly eager for another exchange like this to be a friendly spar instead of a life-or-death fight.
"Hahaha, it has been a while since I had someone survive my punches! Do not disappoint me, Diodora!"
As one would expect, Sairaorg paid no attention to the insults and hatred practically spilling from his opponent. He looked more like a child who had been allowed to run wild inside his favorite playground. The barriers in front of him might as well have been training equipment. He treated them like punching bags and let himself go completely, each strike sending out a visible burst of compressed air that kicked up dust and rattled the ground beneath our feet. The sound alone made my ears ring. If enthusiasm could solve world hunger, he would have ended it already.
Rossweisse's eyes widened as she tracked Sairaorg's movements, her voice barely audible over the chaos yet somehow perfectly clear. "To think a devil could possess such power... and without any demonic energy as well. Pure muscle and raw strength? Not even our most celebrated Valkyrie warriors back in Asgard could do what he is doing."
"Do not try to understand it, it will save you the headache," I replied, feeling better to stand up now. "He is one of the few weirdos among devils that's on the same level as what they call super-class ones. I would bet he is practically guaranteed to reach that level in a few years. The rest of them are not nearly this unreasonable. I can assure you of that."
"Still, for someone so powerful to be held at a standstill against our opponent, we should think of a solution quickly."
"The source of his power comes from those snakes. I doubt it is a permanent boost, but I can't tell you how long it will last. If I had my Sacred Gear, I could use Delete Field to interfere with his spells and destabilize them long enough for Sairaorg to break through. Right now, though, we do not have anything that can pierce that barrier. Unless you are hiding some secret boss-level weapon?"
"I am sorry…"
I waved my hand at her pitiful look as if she had disappointed me somehow. "Nah. Don't worry about it. There's always a solution to these problems."
Strangely enough, despite the near-endless amount of energy flowing through Diodora, I felt calm. It was not confidence exactly, more like a quiet certainty that this would not end here. I did not even have a proper plan yet, and still my stomach refused to twist in panic. Instead, a faint sense of anticipation crept in. That alone concerned me.
Had I spent too much time around that battle maniac that I was starting to think like him? That… was not good. The last thing I needed would be my old chunnibyou habits resurfacing because my ego thought it found a playground to act out its fantasies.
I let out a short laugh under my breath and tapped the white-haired Valkyrie on the shoulder to get her attention.
No matter how overwhelming Diodora appeared, he was still a Devil who relied on his abilities given at birth rather than one who had to fight his way to the top like his opponent, believed to be superior, while never lifting a finger to train. The energy of Ouroboros flowing through him might have draconic origins, but it did not change his lack of foundation and skill.
It simply converted into raw power and amplified what he already possessed. He had not grown new abilities out of nowhere; that guy relied on what he always had, just with a larger fuel tank. At most, his body gained some reinforcement, but not to the extent of someone like Sairaorg. That was why he kept his distance and relied on barriers and spells. If Sairaorg reached him directly, things would've ended far more quickly.
"While he is distracted by Sairaorg, I want you to become my wings for a bit. I will be putting my life in your care."
"W-What?"
I was fairly certain that sounded straightforward. So why was she blushing?
{Break}
So this was true power.
Diodora couldn't help but admit that he had been a complete fool to sit on this strength for so long instead of using it the moment it became his. For the first time in his life, he stepped into a realm that had once felt distant and untouchable. Back then, when he watched figures like his brother Ajuka, Sirzechs, and even Sairaorg from afar, he had convinced himself that their level existed in a different world entirely. Now that same pressure hummed beneath his skin, thick and constant, filling his limbs until even breathing felt heavier.
He envied them. He envied how they stood at the summit so naturally, as if the height had been built for them alone. Especially Sairaorg. A man born without the Power of Destruction, yet somehow allowed to climb higher than most heirs blessed with it. Meanwhile, Diodora, a legitimate successor of a powerful noble clan in the Underworld, a pillar, had spent years watching from the background.
Smiling politely.
Nodding at gatherings.
Being overlooked.
He hated it. He hated the way his name failed to draw attention. He hated how conversations shifted toward others, to his brother. He hated that recognition never came without the fear and respect that was only shown to Ajuka.
But that was before.
Now the power of Ophis coursed through his veins, as deep as the ocean with the bottom impossible to see. It did not flicker or thin out. It pressed against his nerves like a steady current, waiting to be directed. With this, he would show them all who truly stood at the top of the younger generation of devils.
"You are being stubborn."
Another blast of condensed demonic energy shot forward, tearing through the air and colliding with Sairaorg's position. The explosion carved into the earth, scattering debris in every direction. Yet through the rising dust, Diodora saw him again, still advancing. The man kept punching through his barriers, again and again, without slowing.
This desperate and meaningless acting made him clench his jaw.
Had this been his former self, even his strongest barrier would have shattered from a single clean strike.
"I always wondered how Lord Bael tolerated your existence," Diodora continued, his voice rising as he released another wave of power. "How could he allow such an embarrassment to carry the Bael name? You are nothing but a stain. Trash. A rotten apple that should have been thrown to the streets along with your mother or killed to avoid further embarrassment."
Spells fell like rain. Emerald light blanketed the battlefield, each impact tearing open the ground and burying the black-haired devil beneath collapsing stone and soil.
"And you even have the audacity to ally yourself with a human," he added. "That particular one of all people. If the clan head refuses to eliminate you for that disgrace, then I will do it myself. He should be grateful that someone finally corrected his mistake."
Years of frustration poured out with each incantation. It had built quickly, layer upon layer, hidden beneath smiles and polite words. While his hatred for that human burned hotter, there had always been something sour between him and Sairaorg as well. Despising how such a worthless wretch dared to believe that he was better than him. Today, he would erase it. He wanted to see that confidence crack. He wanted to see him kneel and break with his taking that title from his corpse!
"Hahaha!"
Instead of groans, laughter answered him.
From the rubble, Sairaorg rose once more. Dust slid from his shoulders as he stepped forward. Burns marked his skin, and his clothes hung in tatters, exposing his bare muscular chest streaked with soot.
"I have to admit," answered the man, brushing debris from his arm, "I never imagined there was this much resentment between us. I cannot even remember the last time we spoke properly."
"That is because you were never worth my attention!" Diodora snapped.
Demonic energy gathered around him again, condensing into fist-sized orbs. Each one contained a refined spell he had mastered over years of study. They were not nearly as complex as Ajuka's Kankara Formula and merely were basic equations used by mages, but they did not need to be. In his current state, they were more than enough.
The orbs launched forward in waves, hundreds at first, then thousands. Each one carried enough force to reduce a small house to rubble. Diodora did not hesitate. The dragon's power continued to flood his body without pause. No matter how much he expended, more followed, filling the space immediately.
Why restrain himself when the source felt endless?
Bam!
Bam!
Sairaorg did not retreat. Instead of dodging, he coated his body in a denser layer of touki. The aura wrapped around him like a second skin. He stepped into the barrage and began striking the orbs directly. His fists moved at a speed that blurred the outline of his arms. To the eye, it almost looked like several fists occupied the same space at once.
Each punch detonated an orb before it could reach him. Shockwaves rippled outward. Fragments of demonic energy scattered across the field. Some of the deflected attacks curved back toward Diodora, forcing him to reinforce his barriers again.
Pushed behind by several steps, he couldn't help but find himself at a loss. "Urgh! How is this possible?"
"Surprised? Well, you shouldn't be. I can already guess what you're feeling right now. Getting handed that much power all at once would make anyone think they're standing above everyone else. Like nothing can touch you. I can't say I've experienced it myself, but I've met more than enough people who thought the same thing. They all believed they were different. They all ended the same way."
"Don't compare me to them!"
He actually dared to lump him together with those fools. Riser, Zephyrdor, Seekvaria. Faces that once looked down on others as if arrogance alone made them untouchable. Each of them had strutted around with that same confidence, that same assumption that the world would bend simply because they demanded it. Just remembering those smug expressions made his teeth clench.
"Do you think you'll win just because your body can take more punishment? You might be tough, but you're not immortal. I'll keep hitting you until you reach your limit!"
"Challenge accepted." The answer came with a grin that only made things worse.
What followed looked less like a battle between high-ranking devils and more like someone repeatedly swatting at an insect that refused to stay down. Every time Sairaorg closed the distance, he was blasted backward. Sometimes a condensed beam of emerald energy struck him square in the chest. Other times, a translucent barrier materialized in front of him and detonated on impact, sending him skidding across torn earth.
It kept happening for the last half an hour without showing any signs of slowing down. He would charge forward, get blown away, dust rose, stone cracked, and then he would rise again to start all over.
From a distance, the pattern almost seemed ridiculous. Sairaorg lunged like some stubborn animal that refused to learn, only to be struck midair and thrown back. Yet the important detail, the part that refused to cooperate with common sense, was that he kept getting faster. Each attempt closed the gap a little more than the last.
The intervals between impact and counterattack shrank until they blurred together. Diodora found himself firing off spells with less room to breathe between them. His eyes strained just to track the incoming figure. For a moment, he genuinely wondered if he was blinking too slowly.
'W-What kind of monster is this!?'
He increased the output. Stronger beams. More barriers. Walls of demonic power layered one after another, enough to crush a normal body into something unrecognizable. Each collision produced a dull, heavy sound as if iron slammed against reinforced steel. And still, Sairaorg pushed through.
The only reassurance came from visible damage. Torn fabric, blood running down his arm, and bruises darkening across his torso. For the first time, the undefeated Sairaorg Bael was bleeding. That fact alone kept Diodora from losing control.
"Enough of this!"
He had no intention of being cornered by a brute who refused to fall. If that were the case, then he would simply escalate. He reached inward, toward the power granted to him by Ophis. Two serpentine presences stirred within his core. He focused on drawing from both, pulling more and more until emerald energy spilled from his body in thick waves. The air around him distorted. The ground beneath his feet fractured under the pressure.
His muscles felt tight, almost painfully so, as if his body struggled to contain what he was forcing through it. But he endured. He always endured when power was within reach.
"Hnnn-ah!"
Sairaorg charged again.
Diodora waited this time. He held his ground and prepared layered barriers directly in front of him. He watched carefully, counting the distance.
"Checkmate."
With a victorious smirk, he extended his hand a few feet from his opponent's stunned face and released everything at once.
Emerald light swallowed the battlefield. The explosion of energy erased sound for an instant. The terrain buckled and split apart as a massive beam tore forward, engulfing Sairaorg completely. It continued far beyond, carving through the landscape and erasing the peak of a distant mountain as if it had been made of sand.
Even Diodora had never witnessed that scale of destruction from his own hands.
When the light faded and the smoke began to clear, he stood there breathing a little heavier but still upright. The borrowed power flowed through his veins, restoring stamina and dulling the fatigue creeping at the edges of his limbs. His gaze was fixed on the space ahead.
Nothing.
No movement. No silhouette emerging from rubble. No figure rising from a crater.
"I… I-I did it?"
The words came out uncertain at first. He scanned the broken earth again. Still nothing.
A laugh escaped him, hesitant at first, then louder.
"Hahaha. I really did it."
His hands trembled slightly, whether from exertion or excitement, he couldn't tell. He tilted his head back toward the sky, chest rising with uneven breaths.
"From this point on, I am the strong—ugh!"
Boom!
His speech barely reached its final sentence when a massive arrow of condensed energy slammed straight into his torso. With his barrier no longer active, he had nothing to soften the blow. His body flew sideways and skidded across the ground, stones cracking beneath him as he struggled to keep from letting out a scream. The impact felt less like magic and more like being struck by a steel beam swung at full force.
"You!"
On the opposite side of the clearing, Hachiman stood with two fingers raised, the other hand resting in his pocket as if he had merely flicked a pebble instead of firing an attack strong enough to launch a high-class devil.
"Sorry," he replied flatly. "I didn't feel like listening to another one of your villain monologues, so I cut it short. Also, you're pretty quick to try killing that blockhead, an attack like that wouldn't kill Vali, let alone him."
"What?"
A cold sensation twisted in Diodora's stomach. Acting on instinct alone, he raised his barrier again just in time. A spear of light shot toward his head and shattered against the transparent wall with a burst of sparks.
"Damn it! Why the hell did you have to talk back then? I almost had that bastard!"
The familiar voice carried across the battlefield. From another direction, the fallen angel emerged, looking worse for wear, supported by the blue-haired former exorcist he knew as Xenovia. She had once appeared on his list of potential individuals to capture long in the past, though she never truly interested him. She lacked the temperament he preferred, and more importantly, she did not fit the image of a proper holy maiden, nor was she one for that matter.
"You're wasting your time," Diodora said, forcing steadiness into his voice while maintaining the barrier. "Nothing can get past my barriers. At least you saved me the trouble of hunting you down one by one. Now, all of you will die here. And you," he added, glaring at Hachiman, "you will die last. I'll make sure you suffer for everything you've done to me."
Hachiman only shrugged. "As I said, deal with him first."
"—!"
This time, Diodora remained alert. When a faint shift in the air occurred behind him, he reacted quickly, turning just as a figure stepped from his blind spot. Sairaorg stood there in battered condition. Blood ran down the side of his face, mixing with sweat and ash. His upper body bore severe burns from earlier attacks, and several puncture wounds marked his torso. Despite that, he stood upright, breathing heavily in the middle of delivering an attack.
For a brief moment, everything seemed to slow. The devil swung his arm forward and struck the barrier. A loud boom echoed as the impact met the magical wall.
But it was not another punch.
A massive blue greatsword with golden edges descended, held in one hand. Holy energy radiated from its surface, bright enough to sting Diodora's eyes even through the barrier. The aura surrounding the blade pressed against the defensive spell like a grinding wheel.
'Impossible. A devil wielding a holy sword… how is that even…'
He did not need to finish that line of questioning when the answer was presented before him. The hand gripping the weapon had already begun to burn. Smoke rose from Sairaorg's skin where it made contact with the hilt. The flesh blackened slightly, yet he did not loosen his hold. The pain alone should have forced him to drop it and put him into a coma. Instead, he grinned, teeth bared in a way that suggested he had not even felt the pain.
Cracks spread across the surface of the barrier.
For the first time, panic crept into Diodora's expression.
"No! N-No! Nonono! YOU WON'T WIN!"
Abandoning restraint, he gathered every remaining fragment of power granted to him and forced it into the barrier. Energy surged outward with both snakes fully dissolved and turned into a vortex of chaotic power. The spell thickened and expanded, layers reinforcing one another. The cracks slowed, then began to mend.
The trembling eased.
A strained smile returned to his face.
"Hehehe! Y-You idiot. I don't even need to kill you! The sword will do it for me!"
"Then he just needs to be stronger. Right?"
A smooth voice spoke from behind Sairaorg. Diodora's eyes widened as a certain nekoshou stepped forward and placed her palm against his opponent's back. Even without deep knowledge of senjutsu or touki, he could sense the change. Natural energy flowed from her into him in steady waves. The faint white aura around Sairaorg expanded, growing thicker and brighter.
His muscles swelled under the strain. Veins surfaced along his arms and neck. The air around him felt heavier, pressing against the barrier.
"Aaaaaaaaaah!"
The shout tore from his throat as he drove the greatsword down with renewed force.
The cracks returned instantly, spreading faster than before. Fine fractures multiplied across the barrier's surface, branching outward like shattered glass. Diodora pushed more energy into it, but his reserves had already thinned to almost nothing. The reinforcement spell flickered at the edges.
The holy blade continued to descend, grinding deeper against the barrier as the sound of splintering magic filled the air.
Crack!
"NO!"
And so he could only watch as the layered barriers in front of him shattered one after another under the holy sword. Each defensive spell he had stacked with such confidence broke apart like thin glass struck by a hammer. Instead of following through and splitting him cleanly in half, Sairaorg shifted the angle at the last second. The blade veered off course and cut through his arm instead. There was no elegant flash of light, no dramatic pause, just a clean removal that left his severed limb tumbling away uselessly.
Before he could even process the loss, a fist drove straight into his stomach. It did not simply knock the air out of him. The punch sank deep, crushing through muscle and bone alike. "This is for insulting my mother back then." He heard the Devil whisper with a cold face, momentarily replacing that grin of his. Whatever protection he had layered internally meant nothing.
Boom!
The force pulverized everything in its path, his body lifted off the ground and shot backward like a broken projectile, tearing through the outer wall of his own manor and vanishing into the debris with a distant crash.
"Aaa-aaagh... gh... cough!"
His voice barely worked. Each attempt to breathe felt like dragging air through shattered glass. He wanted to scream, to curse, to beg, but even that small dignity refused to cooperate.
Vision was slowly going black along with the rest of the world. Suddenly, a searing pain brought him back. "Hn-aaaarregh! Gghr!"
A spear can and pierced his genitals, Diodora's mind going blank with the desire to die surging just to make the pain stop. That alone dragged him back from the edge of unconsciousness. When his vision cleared enough to focus, he saw Raynare standing above him. She gripped his hair and yanked his head up without effort. The spear that had pinned him through his lower body, the shaft buried deep and keeping him in place as an insect on display got removed.
Blood dripped from its end.
"Oh, you're awake. Since you don't really need that part, I took the liberty of getting rid of it. Don't think I'll let you die so soon after torturing me like that, you fucker."
She flicked her wrist and released him. His limp body slammed into a nearby wall and slid down, leaving a smear behind where his genitals used to be. He could feel his life force thinning out. At this rate, he would not last another hour.
"I know that I said I would let you have the final blow, but even I have to admit that it's a bit much."
Hachiman appeared beside her, hands in his pockets as if he had wandered into the wrong classroom and decided to stay anyway. Sairaorg leaned exhausted against a wall not far from them. The holy sword had already returned to Xenovia's grasp, and Rossweiss worked on his injured arm with some healing magic while he drank a small vial that looked suspiciously like Phoenix tears.
"How did it feel, momentarily being a holy sword user, even if it was not, while you were a natural-born or artificial?"
"Painful," Sairaorg answered, though he still managed a grin. "Even with the restrictions on the blade and protection on my arm, I have never felt that amount of pain in my life. But it was the most fun I have had, hahaha! Urgh! It hurts to laugh…"
"Please don't move! I won't be able to properly treat you; this can leave permanent damage if I'm not quick enough!"
"Ah, sorry miss Valkyrie."
"I never thought Durandal could do so much damage with just a single swing. I still have much to learn," Xenovia muttered while studying the blade. During that earlier strike, when Diodora's arm had been severed, the attack had also carved a massive chasm stretching for hundreds of meters. She knew she couldn't reproduce that level of destruction on her own. Not yet.
"Fuck, this fucker is dying. Wait, Kuroka, can you keep him alive for a bit longer? With that senjutsu shit of yours?"
"Do not call it shit. But sure, I can. Why? He can't even talk, and he's barely conscious."
The raven-haired woman smiled with pure malice, the kind that did not reach her eyes. She looked back at Diodora as if examining something she had already decided to break.
"I made a promise to this guy. One of the bastards is missing, but I'm not gonna miss my chance of revenge on this little fucker. Hachiman, get your ass over here."
.
.
.
Just what was this woman planning? The question echoed in my head as I walked through the ruined manor and stepped into what was left of Diodora's bedroom. These people really went all out. Even the ceiling looked like it could cave in at any second.
Glancing down at the half-dead Devil, I could tell with certainty that he didn't have long. Even a Phoenix Tear wouldn't do more than buy him a few hours, tops. The holy damage was worse than what Sairaorg took when holding Durandal, and at least he had runes and Kuroka's help buffering him while keeping his actual arm protected.
This idiot took the blade directly into his flesh.
As for the genital mutilation from that spear attack… Well, aside from a base, professional pity as a fellow man, I couldn't bring myself to feel bad for him. He was most likely about to do something unspeakable to Raynare, something bad enough that would make her go this far. I sighed again, relieved it wasn't Asia. Callous as it sounded, I was almost glad it was Raynare. Still, I'd have to find a way to thank her for it later. Genuinely.
"So, do you need another Phoenix te—mmmph!?"
She moved fast; the action was enough to send a jolt through me. Suddenly, both of her hands were on my face, the grip almost rough as she hauled me into a kiss so fierce it burned. The contact was everything: her lips crashed into mine, and her tongue pushed forward, devouring any resistance with hungry, slick insistence. I didn't even have a chance to process it. She dragged me backwards, all but throwing me down onto the bed. Somehow, it was still pristine despite the destruction of everything else.
"Hah… hah… W-What the hell are you doing?" I tried to get my thoughts in order, to make sense of this.
Watching, transfixed, as she methodically stripped away every piece of her clothing, letting each item fall to the floor until she stood completely bare before me. A smirk played on her lips as she crawled onto the bed, her body moving with a predatory grace. She leaned in, her lips brushing against my ear.
"A reward," she whispered, her voice a low, husky promise. "Also, I promised that cuck a reckoning. Let's give him a show he'll take to his grave."
What the…? She wanted to do that!?
Any shred of guilt I might have felt evaporated, replaced by pure, unadulterated disbelief at this insane woman's logic.
"Kuroka," Raynare called out, her hand already getting busy removing my clothes by simply cutting through them. "Make sure he doesn't close his eyes and keep him awake until we finish! I don't want him to miss a single moment!"
"Yes ma'am~!" Kuroka's singsong voice came from across the room.
Why the hell was she encouraging this!?
My eyes darted to Sairaorg, Xenovia, Rossweisse, and Kalawarner, looking for an ally. All I got was Kalawarner crossing her arms with a frustrated sigh. "Fine. I'll give you this one, given the shit you went through," she muttered, making me give her an incredulous look at what she was saying instead of doing her job and helping me. "But next time, it's me, Raynare."
As for Sairaorg and the others, he just clapped a hand on Xenovia's and Rossweisse's shoulders, one looking confused at what was happening, while the other was blushing up a storm, realizing what was going to happen. "Alright, you two, let's give them some privacy. I saw a nice little garden nearby; we can kill some time using it as target practice until they're done. Ah, I need to contact Kuisha too, otherwise she'll start panicking." He started pulling them away, both women staring, unable to look away.
Kalawarna followed.
"I'll be back in an hour or two," Sairaorg said over his shoulder. "That is, unless you plan on going at it all day. I'd rather not spend that much time in this dump. They must have noticed the commotion, and Azazel will also bring reinforcement at any moment."
That bastard betrayed me, too!
Worst of all, I was powerless without Vritra as Raynare straddled my waist, her weight pinning me down. She grabbed my wrists, slamming them against the mattress above my head with a surprising amount of strength. Her eyes gleamed with a hungry, eager light.
"You can't use your Sacred Gear right now," she purred, her voice thick with satisfaction, grinding hard against my crotch. "This is my only chance to finally have my way with you. If I don't grasp it, I will regret it for the rest of my life."
"You'll regret this later if you don't stop," I shot back, though the threat felt hollow as I could feel little Hachi reacting to Raynare's actions.
She just laughed, a low, sensual sound that was much different than how she usually acts. "I'm looking forward to it, you fucking bastard. Now shut up and give him a good show. You'd better perform, because I'm not going easy on you."
Her head descended, and her lips crashed against mine again. This time, it was a raw, possessive assault. Her tongue claimed his space, tasting every corner of my mouth with a bruising intensity. One of her hands released my wrist, only to slide down my chest, her nails raking lightly over my shirt before she ripped the button of my pants. The other hand tightened its grip on my free wrist, a clear warning not to struggle. But in all honesty, I couldn't find it in me to fight it anymore. Her hips began to gyrate, grinding against me, a slow motion that sent a jolt through me despite everything. She was performing a lewd, triumphant display for the dying man in the corner, and I was the unwilling audience.
But Kuroka stayed true to her word despite her desire to make babies and made sure Diodora watched every single second of what happened in the young devil's bed.
I was surrounded by perverted lunatics!
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The next 5 chapters of Snafu, and my other Fate fics (Fate Coiling Sword with 3 chapters, A Fake Familiar Reborn with 3 chapters, Steel Eyed Faker soon to be 3 chapters, Taimanin with 3, Hound having 3 and To love a sword having 4 chapters) are already available on my P@treon. With 4 more Broly chapters at /NimtheWriter. Also, I post commissioned arts on each story, already posted a few on an Archer's Promise, Broly and Snafu.