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He frowned before realizing his surroundings. Kuoh Academy's school pitch, used for track and field exercises. Beyond the circular trail lay meadows of freshly cut grass, the mowed surface glistening with dew drops. So that was the reason the boy had invited him here. He had thought the request strange at first, but now he understood the intent that had been behind it. Issei saw his bemused look and hastened to explain.
"The student president helped me set it up. There are wards around here that will keep others outside and let us concentrate. Those same wards will repair any damage that was done when we step out."
His lips twitched. Perhaps not only courage, but a bit of cunning as well.
"And do you know what Persona you want to match against?"
The devil's features set into a mask of determination.
"Nidhogg."
He gave the boy a curious glance.
"Is there a reason?"
"Yes. Ddraig has fought him before. He can tell me if there are any weakness I can exploit. Ddraig also said that Nidhogg is a very strong dragon. I want to test myself against him."
"There might be easier foes to face," he pointed out.
"If I am too weak, then I will face those other foes. I want to start with the strongest first."
He believed the boy had gotten the order wrong, but who was he to judge what manner of training others wished to endure? He was about to call forth the agreed-upon dragon when a presence halted the process before it could begin.
It did not demand to be summoned. It did not request it either. It reasoned. Explained why it desired this outcome and outlined its own motives.
He dipped his head in agreement, and the surge of power that was very much not Nidhogg blasted into his mind.
Boosted Gear suddenly began to flash at an alarming rate. Its wielder frowned.
"Why is Ddraig telling me to run away?"
He smiled.
And Where would You Run, Mortal?
Issei froze where he stood. The jewel atop his gauntlet continued to flash brighter and brighter shades of green.
Where would You Run Now that I Know Who You Are and What You Carry?
The voice was a soft, lilting whisper, reptilian in tone, and unmistakably female. It was carried by a serpentine neck, thick and muscular, yet also strangely elegant. Scales the color of the purest blue shone silver as they were bent down.
Ddraig. The Crimson Emperor.
The jaws parted, revealing rows of perfect, conical-shaped teeth. Lightning cackled in the spaces between them.
The Last Time We Met You Left Me for Dead on that Forsaken Battlefield and I have not yet Claimed My Chance for Vengeance.
Under the ridged skull, eyes the size of a human fist darted in their sockets. Wisdom shone in the purple orbs. Wisdom and cunning. They settled on Boosted Gear like a cat would a caught prize.
Nidhogg has always been a Prideful Dragon. He would Violate his Sacred Form to Face You on Even Grounds. I am Not so Selective When it Comes to Methods of Revenge.
The step she took shook the earth. Claws that were as hard as diamonds sunk into the school field, burying themselves in the soft loam.
You have Wronged Me, Great Welsh.
She at last reared to her full height. Smaller, but just as majestic, if not more so. The deep azure of her scales when she moved resembled the roiling waves of the ocean.
And Tiamat, Mother of Dragons, Mistress of the Storming Seas, always Remembers the Ones Who Wronged Her.
The boy was battered, bruised and lying spread-eagled on the floor when it was all finished. He was the very picture of exhaustion. His chest rose and fell rapidly, heartbeats hammering against his ribcage, breaths coming in quick and fast. It had never been a fair fight, but still he had fought valiantly. The ground around him was a torn mess of upturned dirt and ravaged loam. Streaks of incinerated grass marred the floor, paths where lightning had crossed and turned everything to cinder. Like Nidhogg, Tiamat had made her scorn known through action as well as words. Unlike Nidhogg, there had been a purpose behind her words.
He reached the prone form and extended a hand. Issei clasped it and hauled himself up.
"Did it work?"
The boy nodded, though the motion itself was a bit lopsided. Not all there, but that did not surprise him. One did not match himself against the Persona of a legendary dragon and expect to remain unscathed.
He gestured to the dirt that clung to the devil's frame.
"And did you gain anything out of it?"
Issei grinned. He clenched Boosted Gear into a fist. The air around his free hand warped and buckled as though assailed by a fierce storm. Plates of armor materialized. They fastened themselves to the boy's limb, becoming a sheathe of cobalt metal. Purple gems studded their way around the entire girth, gleaming in the morning light. And at its end, the fat, fang-mawed barrel of a cannon protruded, its mouth a wide, yawning chasm.
The air cackled with latent energy. He could feel it running down the entire length of the weapon and feeding the hungry core within. In the boy's other hand, Boosted Gear glowed with warmth, as though the being held within was proud of what had been accomplished.
He smiled.
Potential. Sometimes, it surprised even him how it chose to take shape.
The devil waved his new weapon victoriously in front of him.
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