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He turned the boy over, and sagged in relief when Saji let out a deep groan. His friend was out cold, knocked unconscious by their impact, but still alive. A morbid part of him wondered just how long that would last. Grunting under the strain, Issei began trying to move his fellow Pawn, began trying to haul him back towards academy grounds. It was a challenging thing to do with his own injuries nagging him, and he could hardly move without feeling pain stabbing from an open wound. The ache dulled his senses, and when added to his focus on the body he was trying to drag away, made the boy lose sight of his surroundings.
That was a mistake.
Issei took a second's reprieve to chance a glance up. What he saw made him immediately stop what he was doing. For there, outlined against the blood-red sky, dozens of Fallen Angels hovered, light spears gripped in black-clad fists.
They floated above the ground, but low enough so that Kuoh Academy's walls obstructed them from view. That had been the intent from the very start, the boy realized. To be hidden out of sight until the time came. Kokabiel was monstrously cruel, but that did not make him a fool. Quite the contrary, it made him all the more cunning. The first wave that was sent in had never been more than a scouting force. That explained why there was so few of them. Why the attack had seemed so lackluster. Even the pack he and Saji had finished off numbered barely more than half a dozen. And when the fighting turned against them, the Fallen had retreated, escaped back through the entrances they had made. They had thought at first that was because their enemies had been truly driven off. Now it was made brutally apparent just how wrong that assumption was.
For here was the true vanguard. The meat of the attack. The second wave.
Breastplates of black iron covered their lithe frames, the armor ugly and misshapen. Equally ugly helms sat over their heads, shaped into the snarling visages of long dead animals. Some of them were bedecked by dark plated horns. Others sprouted obtrusions that resembled a crown of thorns. Altogether these Fallen Angels looked more menacing than their lesser equipped brethren, and their armor was not the only thing that made them appear so. The light spears in their hands seemed to glow with more brilliance, seemed to radiate a far more deadly intent than those that had been thrown so far.
If the first wave was the probing fingers, then this was the armored fist, meant to smash and pulverize anything in its way. Shock troops. Concealed away to conserve their strength for the assault that would break the enemy's back.
It struck the boy then that there had been a second reason for Kokabiel's way of fighting. The Grigori had been obliterating the sections of the school to force them out of hiding. This was true enough. He had also been destroying parts of the academy that were far away from the battle. They too had first thought that it was wanton cruelty that fueled the Fallen Angel's hand. Meaningless spite hurled in the form of earth-shattering spears. But now, the intent could not become more clear.
Without Kuoh Academy's buildings to give them cover, without the barest of rubble to hide behind, the second wave would sweep over them like a black tide, destroying everything in its path. Without obstruction to ruin their aim, the light spears could be hurled with unerring accuracy, and they would be helpless to respond. Even if they took to the air to escape, it would still be playing into the enemy's hands. These Fallen Angels were far tougher than the ones they had faced so far, and Issei did not doubt for a minute that each of them was at least capable of matching a Pawn in power. And there was a great many of them.
These thoughts swam darkly in his head. The realization was like a bitter blade twisted into his gut. He could not leave and inform his master and the rest of her peerage. Saji was still here, and he could not leave him behind. Even if he wanted to, he would not get far, for just as he had seen them, they had noticed him as well.
A detachment of Fallen broke from the rest. The leisurely way they flew suggested just how low of a threat they perceived him to be. One of them, wearing a sneering helm over his features, descended at gliding speed, light spear crouched low like a jousting lance.
Issei swore under his breath. He saw an outcrop of cement behind him, formed from the debris, and with the last vestiges of his strength hurled Saji into its cover. The boy's comatose body rolled limply to a halt beneath the jagged concealment. His back slammed against it a second later, hard against the cement wall, just in time to see the Fallen Angel already sweeping past the place where they had lain.
Too swift. Too fast.
Plates of cobalt metal materialized. They hung in the air for a split second, before slamming onto the devil's bared arm, encasing it in a sheathe of steel. Purple gems studded along the sides flashed and the weapon came to life with a hungry whine.
The cannon, fat-barreled and humming with power. The boy pointed it towards the oncoming foe, grim smile stretched over dry, torn lips.
"Surprise."
Behind the Fallen Angel's helm, crimson eyes widened. The winged figure tried to bank away at the last moment, but he had come at a full charge, and that prevented him from swerving aside in time. And at such close distance, his opponent simply couldn't miss.
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