A/N: Hi everyone! I don't have much to say but here is the 2nd update for this weekend~
Bringing to you Chapter 89 of Volume 2!
Enjoy~
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Katerea, Shalba, and Creuserey had barely restrained the trembling of their bodies after Hajime's attack. Katerea in particular still felt cold sweat sliding down her brow.
Clicking her tongue, she turned sharply to the others. "This is no time to hold back! Call them in!"
Shalba and Creuserey exchanged a glance, then looked toward Hajime, who regarded them with bored contempt, as though they were nothing more than pebbles under his boots. Their expressions darkened before they nodded grimly.
"Let's show this human what terror truly is!" Shalba declared.
All three activated their magic. A colossal magic circle formed above them, and in moments, hundreds—then thousands—of monsters poured forth. Abominations, chimera devils, rogue magicians, and twisted sword wielders descended in waves. It was no longer an assault. It was war.
"They've called everything they've got," Azazel whistled, summoning his spear of light. "Desperation makes fools of us all."
Michael and Sirzechs stood back-to-back with Serafall and Gabriel, Holy and Demonic auras flaring together. The leaders of the Three Factions readied themselves.
"This is it," Sirzechs said evenly. "They've given us the chance to completely remove the opposition."
A surge of stormlight erupted as Dulio summoned Zenith Tempest. Vasco, Griselda, and Irina brandished the newly recreated True Excaliburs gifted by Hajime, their holy brilliance cutting across the battlefield. On the other side, Tobio and the Slash Dog team sprinted forward to meet the incoming waves.
From his tea table, Hajime remained seated, his eyes narrowed at the descendants' desperate ploy. "I was hoping for more tea," he muttered. "But I suppose war won't wait."
Anisphia stretched lazily, sparks dancing along her Pyro Emblem. "Finally. I've been itching for a workout."
Alice rose gracefully, her Anemo Emblem glowing as a breeze lifted her hair. "Sona is already ahead with her peerage. Let's not keep them waiting."
The two leapt into motion, joining the frontlines, moving in perfect sync to support the Gremory and Sitri peerages.
Sagiri sighed, setting her cup down with a soft clink. "...Princess Anis aside, to think even Alice has this side."
She jumped down through the hole, drawing her kunai as she slipped into the chaos, moving to fight alongside Alice and Anisphia.
Lavinia turned, smiled sweetly at Hajime, and then summoned her Sacred Gear, Absolute Demise. A frozen crest spread beneath her feet as she glided toward Tobio and the Slash Dog team, her ice blooming across the battlefield.
Bowing to Hajime and Ingvild, Villhaze turned and leapt after Alice, Anisphia, and Sagiri. Her chest burned warmly at the memory of Hajime defending her against Katerea, and in her mind now was a single resolve: to prove her loyalty not only to Ingvild but to Hajime as well.
Ingvild remained at Hajime's side, watching anxiously as everyone else joined the fray, leaving only the two of them in the shattered conference room. Her voice trembled, uncertain but sincere. "Hajime-san… shouldn't we be helping too? Alice-san, Anis-san, Sagiri-san and Vill-chan even the leaders of the Three Factions are already out there…"
Hajime didn't move, his elbow propped on the armrest, chin resting in his palm. His eyes stayed fixed on the battlefield, unbothered by the rumbling explosions. "It's alright. No need to worry."
He gestured toward the distance, where Alice's winds sliced like blades and Anisphia's laughter rang above the chaos. "Alice and Anis are already out there. With Sagiri and Villhaze working with them, believe me, they're more than enough."
"But…" Ingvild's voice lowered, conflicted. "It feels wrong to sit here while they're risking their lives. It's like we're abandoning them."
Hajime finally turned to her, his expression softening. "For a devil, you're surprisingly selfless."
Ingvild's cheeks flushed, and she quickly lowered her gaze, flustered. "I-I just… I don't want to feel useless."
Hajime leaned closer and gently patted her head, fingers brushing through her silky hair. His voice was warm. "Then stay here with me. Your moment will come soon enough."
Her blush deepened as she gave a small nod, her heart pounding from Hajime's touch.
—--
The battlefield erupted into a whirlwind of elemental fury, light, and demonic might as the Khaos Brigade's reinforcements poured in. But the united front of the Three Factions stood strong, answering the assault with equal force.
Tobio spearheaded the Slash Dog team's charge, his Sacred Gear Canis Lykaon—Jin, as he called it—moving like a living shadow beside him. The pair cut through hulking chimeras with perfect rhythm, Tobio's every slash mirrored by Jin's feral precision.
Kouki followed close behind with Byakusa, their movements sharp and seamless. They danced through the chaos, coordinated strikes felling enemies before they even realized what hit them.
Not far away, Natsume fought alongside Griffin. Gunfire rang as her pistols shoots in rhythm with Griffin's piercing aerial strikes, scattering enemy magicians and breaking their formations.
Shigune held her ground as the tide pressed in, Poh—the beast of Gluttony—roaring as it devoured streams of hostile magic. Each swallow fueled Shigune's counters, her calm expression never wavering as she unleashed devastating retaliation.
And then there was Sae, her mastery over shinto and onmyoji arts flowing like a river of versatility. Charms, barriers, and curses wove seamlessly together, supporting allies and lashing out with crushing force against those who dared draw near.
Behind them, Lavinia advanced with Absolute Demise, her Sacred Gear spreading frost in delicate yet deadly patterns. Every step etched frozen sigils into the earth, every wave of her hand locking down swaths of enemies in a creeping, merciless winter.
Further ahead, Sona's peerage held flawless formation. Tsubaki's Mirror Alice shattered incoming spells with surgical precision, reflecting their force back with brutal accuracy. Tomoe streaked through the battlefield like lightning, her katana carving clean lines through devil and beast alike. Momo conjured sweeping winds, scything through the ranks and clearing paths for her comrades. Ruruko weaved at the flanks, intercepting stragglers with sharp martial strikes and swift counters. Reya stood steady at the rear, layer upon layer of barriers blooming from her staff, her quiet focus the anchor that kept their line unbroken even as the world seemed to collapse around them.
Tsubasa fought at the vanguard with unwavering discipline, her martial prowess honed through countless battles. Each punch landed with bone-rattling impact, each grapple executed with clean precision. "Out of my way," she growled as she dropped another chimera with a shoulder throw, her fists like steel as she anchored the frontline through sheer grit.
Saji fought alongside her, his Sacred Gear, Absorption Line, snapping out like serpents to bind enemy warriors and siphon their strength. Sparks flared as he absorbed the force of a blast meant for Tsubaki, his teeth clenched. "Not on my watch!" he snarled, before retaliating with a thunderous counterblast that knocked his foes sprawling.
Sona stood amid the storm like a commander, her water magic swirling in elegant arcs. Each wave she summoned seemed to flow perfectly with her orders, weaving her peerage into a seamless war dance. "Tsubaki, cover the left! Tomoe, rotate with Momo—keep the line tight!" Her calm, commanding tone kept the formation unbroken, their unity a wall of calculated strength against the tide.
To their left, Rias's peerage fought with fierce synergy. Kiba blurred through ranks of dark swordsmen, his balance breaker—the Holy Demonic Sword—flashing as he carved through enemies with supernatural speed. Akeno's lightning storm crackled above, merciless and dazzling, while Koneko's fists broke apart armored juggernauts with crushing precision. Xenovia swung Durandal with unyielding force, each strike cleaving barriers and monstrosities alike. At the center, Rias raised her hand, crimson destruction blooming outward. "Fall!" she commanded, erasing entire flanks of enemies in a single, devastating sweep.
Issei dove into the fray clad in his crimson Boosted Gear Scale Mail, crashing down like a meteor. "Boost!" His shout echoed as his gauntlet glowed brighter, multiplying his power. A Dragon Shot erupted, obliterating a trio of flying abominations. Landing beside Rias, he grinned. "I'm not letting them ruin our peace talk, President!" He thrust his arm forward again, another blast exploding into the tide of enemies.
Near the center, Dulio hovered like a seraph, Zenith Tempest swirling around him. Elemental fury and calm control interwove in his movements, annihilating enemies while shielding allies. Below him, Griselda and Irina fought back-to-back with Vasco, the three of them wielding Hajime's recreated True Excaliburs. Their blades blazed with holy brilliance, cleaving through chimeras and abominations with righteous fury.
"Hold it!" Vasco barked, driving his sword through a beast's core.
"On your right!" Irina shouted, cutting down an attacker before it reached him.
Griselda's voice rang calm and resolute. "Together. Don't falter now!"
The three pressed forward, holy light burning a path through the chaos.
And in the eye of the storm, two figures danced—Alice and Anisphia.
Alice rode the currents of wind and gravity, deflecting projectiles and slicing down monsters with a whip of her breeze-forged blades. Her Anemo Emblem pulsed with elegance, every movement precise and fluid. "Stay sharp, Anis," she called, sending a razor of wind to slice down a charging beast.
Beside her, Anisphia spun with vibrant chaos, her Magic Blades Celestial powered by Pyro enchantments. Every sweep of her blade left streaks of fire and bursts of heat, carving a path with deadly grace. Her laughter rang out like a bell amid the storm. "Sharp and sparkling! Leave some fun for me, Alice!"
Together, flanked Sagiri, who moved like a silent storm, her kunai flashing with impossible speed. Each strike dropped armored juggernauts with effortless precision. She didn't speak, but her narrowed eyes said enough: focus.
Meanwhile, Villhaze flicked her hair disdainfully, enemies collapsing one by one, poisoned by her daggers. "I won't apologize for your deaths, since you are all enemies to milady and his majesty," she murmured coolly, though her smile betrayed the thrill of battle.
The four moved as one: swift, deadly, unstoppable.
Amidst the clash of steel and sorcery, the allied forces held strong. Devils, angels, and fallen answered each other's rhythm, every strike and spell not only for survival… but for the fragile peace they had gathered here to protect.
—--
Above the battlefield, the sky of Kuoh Academy seemed to shake as waves of demonic power erupted in a concentration from the north. Serafall Leviathan hovered high, her magical girl outfit now replaced with full battle regalia bearing the crest of the current Maou. The atmosphere around her flared with powerful ice magic, laced with masterful control. Her expression was no longer bubbly or teasing, only cold and sharp.
Opposite her, Katerea Leviathan ascended on a whirlwind of dark demonic energy, her dress billowing like a war banner. She sneered with condescension, her aura writhing like serpents of hatred.
"You dare to wear the name of Leviathan," Katerea spat, voice full with contempt, "while true blood still flows through my veins. That title belongs to the lineage, not to some thief!!."
Serafall's eyes narrowed, her voice cold. "I didn't become Leviathan to inherit power. I became Leviathan to protect our kind and everyone in it. Just because of your blood doesn't make you worthy. Your heart does."
The space between them shattered with the clash of their spells. Katerea unleashed a tidal surge of water magic, water crashing down like a tsunami. Serafall countered with a sweeping arc of ice, freezing the wave mid-sky and redirecting its force with a twist of her hand.
The two danced through the air beams of blue and purple, ice and water. Katerea conjured demonic sigils, while Serafall weaved counter-seals with elegance. Neither gave an inch, their battle igniting the skies above with every blow.
—--
At the east, the battlefield darkened under the oppressive pulse of demonic magic. Shalba Beelzebub descended, his body encased in a writhing cocoon of dark energy. The descendant of the original Beelzebub floated with regal disdain, his six demon wings spreading wide.
Across from him, a blinding light forced the darkness to recoil. Gabriel, Seraph of the Highest Choir—the Strength of God—emerged on wings of radiant grace. Her body flared with pure holiness, her eyes with unyielding gentleness that masked a formidable will.
"Another angel," Shalba sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Do you plan to lecture me too, daughter of Heaven? Your kind only knows how to preach peace and bleed for it."
Gabriel met his glare without flinching. "I'm not here to preach. I came to protect our future."
Shalba barked out a cruel laugh. "Protect? You're too late! The age of devils will rise again and the heavens you serve will burn."
Holy and Demonic clashed in an instant. Shalba unleashed a storm of demonic spheres. Gabriel raised her hand and a dome of light blossomed around her, each sphere dissolving the moment it touched her radiance. Her wings flared as she answered with a rain of holy spears.
Shalba weaved through them, snarling curses as he hurled sigils of forgotten blight. The ground split and warped beneath him, unholy light tearing skyward. But Gabriel soared higher, her voice calm and resolute.
"Your hatred blinds you, Shalba. But even in darkness, light always finds a way."
She extended her hand, and from the heavens, a great spear of brilliance descended, aimed at the heart of Beelzebub's fury.
Shalba roared and thrust both hands upward, conjuring a massive, writhing tendril of demonic origin. The holy spear collided with it in an eruption of blinding light and shadow, shockwaves ripping across the battlefield.
Shalba staggered mid-air, cracks splintering his shield, his expression twisting with fury and disbelief. "You will not win, Seraph…!"
Gabriel hovered above, serene yet unwavering, holy light pulsing from her outstretched hand. "We will… because I have someone to meet. And when that destined time comes, I'll stand beside him."
—--
The sky burned crimson, rent apart by the power of clashing titans.
A sharp crack split the battlefield as lightning crashed into the scorched earth. From the smoke stepped Azazel, Governor of the Fallen Angels, spinning his light spear with casual precision. His wings were tattered, but his trademark smirk remained.
Across from him, Creuserey Asmodeus descended like a blade, demonic magic boiling off him in waves. His six wings flared wide, each beat radiating arrogant fury.
"You always meddle in things beyond you, Azazel," Creuserey sneered, contempt dripping from every syllable. "You should have stayed in the shadows where you belong."
Azazel twirled his spear, golden sparks dancing along its tip. "And you should've stayed buried with your dead ideals, Creuserey. The old devils had their time—and they wasted it."
With a roar, Creuserey launched himself forward, a black inferno swirling in his palm. Azazel's spear shot out to meet him, curving like lightning incarnate. The collision split the sky, light and darkness tearing into each other.
Mid-air, the two clashed again. Creuserey's claws raked across Azazel's coat, only for the Governor to twist with a backflip and land on a conjured spell platform. Azazel conjured a dozen light spears at once, hurling them in rapid succession.
Creuserey snarled, raising a barrier of writhing flame to block the storm. "You're nothing but a glorified researcher playing warrior."
Azazel laughed, darting forward in a blur of speed. "And yet I'm the one building a future, while you clutch to ashes of a past already gone."
Creuserey's eyes blazed with rage. "The blood of Asmodeus doesn't fade! I'll carve it into history with your corpse!"
Azazel grinned wider, his spear sparking brighter. "Try me. Let's see if arrogance can withstand progress."
Their battle erupted once more—a storm of destruction, defiance, and raw will. The pride of a fallen angel who chose peace against the wrath of a devil chained to a crumbling throne.
—--
A wave of silence swept over the battlefield as two towering auras spiraled toward each other. One calm and composed, the other fierce and defiant.
Vali Lucifer floated in a blur of white and silver, his wings gleaming under the twilight haze. The Balance Breaker of Divine Dividing Scale Mail across his frame.
Opposite him hovered Sirzechs Lucifer, the Crimson Maou. His presence radiated absolute power, a terrifying mix of regal composure and world-ending force. His long crimson hair flowed in the wind, his gaze gentle yet sharp.
"Sirzechs Lucifer," Vali called evenly, eyes locked. "Let's see if the inheritor of Lucifer's name can withstand the true descendant."
Sirzechs gave a faint, amused breath. "The name I carry isn't a blood legacy but a burden of responsibility. If you wish to challenge it, then do so with your all."
Vali's wings spread wide. "This isn't rebellion. It's recognition. Let me show them who I really am."
Without another word, he burst forward, space collapsing in his wake. Albion's roar echoed as his wings pulsed with demonic and draconic energy, launching a volley of compressed Divide spheres.
Sirzechs raised his hand, and reality itself warped. The spheres vanished, swallowed by the silent chaos of his Power of Destruction. He moved with purpose—restrained, but never mocking.
Vali appeared above him in a flash, unleashing a storm of high-speed strikes. Sirzechs parried each one with flawless precision, bursts of force cracking through the air. With a measured sweep, he retaliated, crimson magic pulsing outward and splitting the clouds.
[Hmp! This man is skilled,] Albion's voice rang in Vali's mind. [He knows about your act with Azazel and is playing along. Yet… he isn't holding back much.]
Vali grinned, excitement sparking in his eyes. "Good. Then this isn't just for show."
Their collision unleashed waves of force across the battlefield, carving trenches into the earth and sending weaker soldiers flying. A battle of truth and title—descendant and Maou—unfolded.
-----
Back on Hajime's side, he looked laid-back, sitting cross-legged as if the chaos outside were nothing more than a distant storm. His tea sat forgotten, and though his face was calm, his instincts as a Campione suddenly flared—something divine was near.
A girl appeared beside him. She looked no older than a child, dressed in black Gothic Lolita attire, long hair flowing like a shadow. Her dark eyes gleamed with reptilian slits, carrying an immeasurable presence that made the very air bend around her. At a glance, one might think her delicate, even cute, but that illusion shattered the moment her aura pressed upon the room.
Ingvild stiffened at Hajime's side, trembling under her presence. Without a word, Hajime gently took her hand, calming her with a squeeze. His eyes never left the battlefield, but his posture switched to a relaxed, yet battle-ready.
"You're just going to watch?" he asked calmly.
The girl tilted her head. "Should I not?"
Hajime blinked once, still watching the clash beyond. "Aren't they… your people?"
"People?" she repeated softly. "Perhaps. But I do not know them."
He frowned at her unexpected attitude. Hajime was certain he could sense her essence powering the entire force of the Khaos Brigade. "You can't be serious…?"
"I am," she said with certainty. "They needed power. I needed soldiers to fight Baka Red. So I gave them my snakes."
Hajime let out a sharp exhale. "So you just handed out the essence of Infinity… like candy to lunatics… just to deal with one idiot who happens to be red?"
"Yes. I cannot defeat him alone. So I asked them to fight for me." Her gaze turned toward him. "Join me, Godslayer. With you… together we could chase away Baka Red."
Hajime rolled his shoulders in a shrug. "Sure, I could. But that would burn this world to ash. And I'm not interested in doing that."
Ingvild let out a shaky breath she hadn't realized she was holding, tension still coiled in her frame.
"Why not?" the girl pressed.
"Because it betrays what we stand for," Hajime said evenly, "and my way of Trailblaze."
"Way of Trailblaze…?" Ophis repeated, her tone almost curious.
A faint smile touched Hajime's lips. "Our captain, Noah, once told us what his Trailblaze means."
He paused, recalling that day after they left Anisphia's world. In the lounge of the Express, tea and cookies from countless worlds sat on the round table to welcome their newest member.
"For him, it's about laying new paths. New chances. New answers. To reach beyond the known." Hajime spoke each word with conviction.
The childlike dragon remained unmoving, yet her eyes fixed on him.
"For me though," he continued, glancing at Ingvild, "it's to build a way forward that can carry everyone toward a better future."
His voice softened as memories surfaced. "Alice, once destined to die because of her frailty. Anis, scorned because she refused to be what others demanded. Ingvild, left to sleep for centuries, ignored by her own family."
His grip on Ingvild's hand tightened gently. She gasped, her cheeks warming.
"I want to prove we can create something better together," he said firmly. "That even a speck of light matters. That it still belongs to the whole sky."
Ingvild's fingers intertwined tighter with his.
At last, Hajime turned back to the girl before him, gaze steady. "So what about you? Ever wondered where you fit into this, Ouroboros Dragon… Infinite Dragon God… Ophis?"
For the first time, Ophis fell silent—not staring at Hajime, but inward. What he said was something she had never considered. For someone who had existed beyond uncountable years, she had never truly thought about her existence. One moment, she was simply there in the silence she had always known—a void of stillness, where nothing touched her and she needed nothing in return.
Then Great Red came. He crashed into her silence and shattered her sanctuary she hadn't even known was fragile. She had pursued him not out of malice, not even hatred, but simply to reclaim what she only knew. Yet she had failed. The difference between them was too vast. She could only watch, powerless.
"I only wanted my silence back," she murmured softly, so faintly it was almost lost to the wind. "It was the only thing I ever knew."
Hajime didn't respond at once. Neither did Ingvild. They looked at her not as a god, not as a dragon, but as someone… painfully alone.
Ingvild, heart tightening, found herself moving before she could second-guess. Her hand reached out, hesitated, then took Ophis's gently. The girl blinked, startled. And then, unexpectedly, Ingvild leaned in and hugged her.
Ophis stiffened. She had never—not once—been held this way. Her infinite mind, untouched by warmth, faltered as something unfamiliar stirred inside her.
"…Warm," she whispered, barely audible.
Hajime chuckled softly, his tone warmer than before. "I can't promise to give you that kind of silence again… but I can build you a new kind. A quieter place. Not of emptiness, but of peace."
Ophis blinked at him, confusion flickering in her eyes.
He smiled wider. "No more being a shut-in, alright? The universe is big. Come see it with us."
Still unsure, she tilted her head. "Peace… with you?"
"Yeah," Hajime nodded. "With us."
So Hajime played his trump card.
From within his Gate of Babylon, he drew out a small item wrapped delicately, reverently—a cookie. Not just any cookie. The Alden™ Cookie, renowned across the Astral Express for solving even the gravest diplomatic disasters.
Hajime offered it with a grin. "This? Best cookie in all worlds. You can have more… if you come along."
Ophis took it and bit down.
For the first time since existence had named her, something twinkled in her eyes.
"…I will go," she said quietly.
Ingvild stared, stunned. Hajime just leaned back with a satisfied smile.
"See? These cookies really solve everything."