Chapter 17
I had traveled for a short time through different places in the world. With the goal of making stronger, the daughter of Saigou Touya.
Saigou Izayoi is a specimen born from the nanomachine experiment. I had seen with my own eyes the perversion of that man finally taking shape.
Using Typhon as the first lab rat several centuries ago, he succeeded in bringing forth the result in his own offspring.
The thirteen-year-old girl already displayed strength close to the fifth digit within Little Garden. She was only used to study the effect provoked by the nanomachines within her body, obtaining a positive result of what he sought to lead humanity into the next generation.
So her strength had remained stagnant until this moment.
I was training with her personally. Receiving a right punch aimed at my face. I stopped it easily with the palm of my right hand. Grabbing her fist to pull her toward me, I connected a palm strike to her solar plexus, forcefully ripping all the air from her chest. She was sent flying, crashing into the rocky mountain that stood several meters away.
The dust cloud caused by the impact of her body against the mountain had not yet dissipated, but I could already hear her ragged breathing, her chest heaving violently as she struggled to recover the air I had stolen from her.
"Come on, Izayoi," I muttered through my teeth, shaking my wrist to ease the impact. "Was that all you learned in these weeks?"
A furious scream echoed among the rocks.
"Shut up!" the girl roared from within the crater, emerging from the stones with her uniform torn, her face smeared with dirt and a beastly grin stretching her lips. "I'm not done yet!"
She launched at me again without a thought. Her body was small, but the pressure she generated as she moved thundered like a projectile. Each step shattered the ground beneath her feet. She carried a mix of killer instinct and pure emotion. Not because she wanted to kill me. But because, for the first time, she felt something.
I was her dopamine.
"Too slow!" I said, dodging her straight punch with a small twist of my waist. I struck her side with the edge of my open hand, spinning her like a top before she landed on her feet a few meters away, sliding across the dirt.
"Tsk…! Damn old man!" she spat blood, yet her grin didn't vanish. On the contrary, her violet eyes burned brighter.
"Does it hurt?" I asked while stepping back, giving her room to attack again.
"I love it!" she roared like a wild beast before charging again.
Her speed was increasing. Her reflexes, precision, strength… the nanomachines were reacting not only to physical training but also to her emotional euphoria. I knew it. They were beginning to awaken once again.
She was no longer a simple lab product. She was breaking her programming.
And that was exactly what I sought.
I stopped her once again, this time crossing my forearm with hers. A clash of forces that created a shockwave, destroying trees several meters away. But instead of retreating, Izayoi planted her feet in the ground and met my gaze with a fury that came from her soul.
"You're not invincible! I'll surpass you, even if I have to break my bones to do it!"
"Then break what you must break," I replied, raising my free arm. "But don't you dare stop."
[•••]
Another round began.
Izayoi closed the distance in the blink of an eye, her superhuman speed finding an opening in the guard to throw a hook. It landed against the Oni King's right forearm, shaking his body slightly and showing that someday her strength could pierce the tough skin of this [Demon Lord].
A right hook, faster than Izayoi's own strike, connected with her face. She was sent flying, tumbling across the dirt several times before crashing once again into the rocky mountain.
Izayoi rose again. Wiping the blood from her split lip, she returned with the determination to at least land a single hit. The ground exploded beneath her feet as she leapt toward the Oni King.
Closer and closer. Izayoi measured her speed to strike. But she was caught off guard. The Oni King spun sharply on his own axis, launching a kick that sank into her stomach and then drove her deep into the earth.
[•••]
A strong aroma of roasted meat, hot rice, and spices filled the air.
Izayoi woke up suddenly, sitting up wide-eyed as if expecting another direct punch to the face. But all she received was an intoxicating smell and the crackling sound of a nearby fire.
She was inside a rustic wooden cabin, simple yet warm, with a large pot at the center and several dishes spread out over a long improvised table. Outside, the night covered the landscape with living stars and a gentle breeze that swayed the branches.
Her stomach growled grotesquely.
"What… the hell…?" she muttered, clutching her abdomen as her entire body trembled, like she had just run a marathon without rest.
The Oni King—seated in front of the fire wearing an apron—was serving meat onto wooden plates.
"Finally awake?" he said in a calm voice. "You slept like a rock for more than five hours."
Izayoi touched her stomach again and frowned.
"I'm hungry…" she admitted, sounding more scared than annoyed. "But it's not normal. This happened to me once before. After an intense fight… it was like my body went into a frenzy for food."
She grabbed a bowl and began devouring without manners, like a famished beast.
"The nanomachines in your body work at an abnormal speed during battle," he explained calmly. "To regenerate tissue, reinforce your muscles, and withstand your physical acceleration, they consume more red blood cells and cellular resources than your human body can replenish on its own."
"And what the hell does that mean?!" she yelled with her mouth full, swallowing rice and soup at the same time. "That I'm gonna turn into some compulsive eater or what?!"
"No," he said with a laugh. "You'll just get monstrous hunger every time you fight with all your power. So get used to it."
Izayoi snorted and attacked the next plate of grilled meat.
"This is insane… but I can't stop eating…" she said, her face completely smeared in sauce. "I seriously need more, I'm still hungry! Do you have more meat, old man?!"
The Oni King put down the spoon, took off the apron, and served her another plate with a toothy smile.
"My name is Sengo, by the way," he mentioned as if it were a trivial detail. "Since you'll be under my care, it's not bad for you to know my real name."
Izayoi paused for a moment, with a piece of meat halfway between the plate and her mouth.
"Sengo…?" she repeated, chewing slowly. "Sounds… strong."
"And dangerous," he added with a half-smile.
Izayoi swallowed and looked at him, her face a little calmer now though her body still trembled from fatigue.
"Thanks for the food… Sengo."
And with that said, she went back to devouring as if there were no tomorrow.
[•••]
Time passed since that training.
Sengo and his disciple, Izayoi, had traveled through different parts of the world. They avoided drawing too much attention, but not always could they avoid the glances or rumors. This time, their path had led them to a quiet city in Europe, where the mild climate and nearby forests offered a serene atmosphere.
The air smelled of coffee and freshly baked bread. The cobblestone streets were empty, save for the murmur of the breeze and the faint creak of wheels.
Then, from the opposite side of the plaza, a familiar voice broke the silence with a mocking tone.
"Well, well… look who we have wandering this corner of the world," said the man with a sly smile. "Aren't you the one Serafall Leviathan fell head over heels for? The famous Senji Muramasa."
Sengo—leaning against a railing, watching the sky without concern—barely turned his face. His eyes gleamed with that reddish tint that always promised trouble.
"Azazel, leader of the Grigori Faction," he replied with a mocking grin. "I'm surprised to see you so far from your laboratories. Don't tell me you're here to commit some rebellious act against the Heavens? Or did you just come to spy on women in swimsuits?"
"Unlike you, I'm a civilized man," Azazel answered, letting out a nasal chuckle as he approached. "Besides, my work requires keeping an eye on certain anomalies… like you, for example."
"Watching me? By whose order?" Sengo asked with a crooked smile. "Or did you just get curious about where in the world I am now?"
Both chuckled softly, trading barbs disguised as courtesy.
But then, someone else appeared next to Azazel.
A boy with silver hair, pale skin, and sharp eyes. His gaze was the same shade as his hair: a cold silver, like steel. He wore simple clothing, but the most noticeable thing was his dark gloves reinforced with metal over the knuckles.
Sengo raised a brow.
"What's this, Azazel? Did you decide to be a father now too?" he asked sarcastically, without taking his eyes off the boy.
Azazel shook his head with an amused smile.
"Nothing like that. This boy is Vali, a direct descendant of Lucifer. I simply took him under my wing, so he wouldn't end up wasting his talent," he said, patting the boy gently on the head.
"Hm, Vali, huh…?" Sengo crouched slightly, noticing the gloves. "Do you skate?"
"Huh?" Vali looked at him, confused by the question.
Just then, the sound of wheels against the ground was heard in the distance.
An adolescent turned the corner, sliding down the railing with elegance. He wore leather gloves on both hands, and just before crashing into a post, he used one of those gloved hands against the ground to redirect his movement, completing a clean spin.
Vali followed him with his eyes, intrigued by the maneuver.
"Do you know him?" Sengo asked without turning to look.
"No… but that was impressive," the boy admitted, lowering his guard a little.
Sengo straightened up and crossed his arms.
"What are you doing here, Azazel?"
Azazel was about to respond, but he was interrupted by the voice of a girl.
"And who are these people?"
Izayoi appeared after wandering nearby, clearly uninterested in what she had seen. Returning to Sengo's side, she looked at the two newcomers. Her gaze lingered for a moment on Azazel, perceiving a strong presence that made her frown slightly.
"He's Azazel," Sengo replied. "And that one there is Vali."
Izayoi tilted her head.
"That kid fights too?"
Vali took a step forward.
"I'm stronger than I look."
Izayoi looked at him with an expression of annoyance.
"Ugh… another brat who thinks he's strong. Boring."
Vali clenched his teeth.
"In the future, I'll make you eat those words."
"Impossible. I'm above everyone… even the heavens," Izayoi retorted with an arrogant smile.
Azazel whistled, impressed by the confidence radiating from the young girl.
"Well… you're definitely raising a savage, Senji."
"I didn't raise her… I just keep her busy," he answered calmly, while Izayoi was already yawning, losing interest.
[•••]
While the two children kept their distance, exchanging silent defiant glares, the adults remained quiet for a few seconds.
Azazel observed Senji Muramasa carefully, never losing his relaxed expression. Yet inside, he couldn't help but feel intrigued. That man, about whom he had heard too many stories and legends—some true, others too absurd to be believed—was right there, standing in front of him as if time itself meant nothing.
Finally, the leader of the Grigori broke the silence.
"Tell me, Senji… what are you really searching for? You don't seem like the type to wander the world just on a whim."
Senji kept his gaze on the horizon, his expression unreadable.
"An end," he replied calmly.
Azazel blinked, surprised.
"An end…? What kind?"
Senji turned his eyes back to him. His gaze, intense yet serene, reflected something deeper than mere words.
"My end."
At that moment, the wind blew harder, lifting dry leaves from the cobblestones and slightly rustling the coats of both men.
Azazel said nothing. For a second, the usual smile he always wore vanished. The silence between them grew denser—not uncomfortable, but heavy with meaning.
After a few moments, Azazel sighed.
"I suppose not all monsters seek to be the strongest…"
Senji didn't respond. He simply closed his eyes for a moment, letting the wind pass by him, as if it carried away part of the weight he bore on his shoulders.
[•••]
The constant hum of engines filled the first-class cabin. The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee and expensive perfume, while the reclining seats offered a luxury that contrasted with the brutality of the world they lived in.
Izayoi was absorbed in the screen in front of her. A western movie: men with dusty hats, duels in deserted streets, gunshots fired in a decisive instant. Her violet eyes shone with a childlike interest she rarely showed in real life.
Sengo glanced at her from the side. There was something strange in watching her enjoy something so mundane, so simple. A girl who could shatter mountains with her fists… laughing at a cowboy who could barely draw his gun in time.
He turned his face toward the window. The blue sky stretched endlessly, as if no end existed in any direction. His reflection pulled him back to another moment, to another conversation.
"Senji," Azazel's voice echoed in his memory. "How could it ever be possible to end your life?"
He had opened his mouth to answer. But the leader of the Grigori, with that sharp gaze hidden behind irony, raised a hand to stop him.
"Don't tell me. I already understand." His lips curved into a half-smile that had nothing funny about it. "It's not a god. It's not a demon. It's her… isn't it? That girl you keep under your wing. Your executioner in training."
The memory faded like smoke.
Back in the plane, the reflection of the sky still returned to him a face hardened by years, by Gaia's invisible chains. He lowered his gaze.
Izayoi, without taking her eyes off the screen, clenched her fists on the seat and shouted excitedly:
"Come on, idiot! Shoot faster!"
Sengo let out a faint bitter smile. Inside him, Azazel's words still echoed, sharp as that endless sky.
Without thinking, his hand slid toward Izayoi's head and stroked her hair gently. The girl blinked, confused, without looking away from the movie; she only darted her eyes sideways toward him, showing the whites in a disbelieving gesture.
"What are you doing?" she asked, scrunching her nose as if she didn't understand anything.
Sengo didn't reply immediately. His smile remained, faint and strange, as his fingers slowly withdrew.
"Grow and become strong," he murmured, low enough to sound like a stray thought. "Be the one who can surpass me…"
In his mind, the sentence ended alone, heavy, like a sentence he couldn't speak aloud: "And end my miserable life."
Izayoi stayed silent for a moment, tilting her head. Then she puffed her cheeks and muttered in annoyance:
"Are you looking for a wife or something?"
She slapped his hand away, curling up in her seat with the bristling attitude of a cat.
Sengo looked at her without flinching, answering calmly, as if he were talking about the rain or the weather:
"No. I'm not looking for that. I never was. Not even in the more than a thousand years I've been alive did I marry a single time."
Izayoi glanced at him sideways, still confused, before huffing and returning her attention to the movie, as if it had all been a misunderstanding.
Sengo turned his eyes back to the sky, and the bitter smile on his lips slowly dissolved, leaving only the silence of the engine and the blue horizon that offered no answers.
[•••]
Present time.
The Fallen moved in silence.
They weren't Azazel's organized troops, but a rebel group that had taken shape in the shadows, tired of waiting for orders that never came. Their leader: Kokabiel, the Fallen Angel who had abandoned all restraint.
While Azazel wasted away in his laboratories, entertained with experiments and theories, these men took advantage of the lack of supervision. It was the perfect chance to strike without anyone stopping them.
Their objective was clear and bloody: Kuoh.
There resided the most visible heiresses of the demonic world: Rias Gremory and Serafall Sitri.
Two names that carried the weight of their families, and that Kokabiel had decided to erase from history.
The war Azazel had tried to prevent… someone else was ready to start it.