The park was quiet, almost unnaturally so. The faint fragrance of soil and flowers lingered in the breeze, but instead of soothing, it only seemed to make the silence heavier. The sun had dipped behind the horizon, leaving streaks of deep orange swallowed by an encroaching blue.
The three of us moved along the dim path in deliberate silence. Our disguises—a priest's black cassock for Kiba, a sister's garb for Koneko, and mine with its stiff white collar—rustled softly with every step. The wooden crosses at our throats swayed, catching glints of dying sunlight, but the cheap material betrayed them as fakes.
"If they were real," I muttered, tugging at the collar that scratched at my neck, "we'd be writhing on the ground already."
Koneko responded with her usual noncommittal hum, the slightest flicker of acknowledgment. Her doll-like face betrayed nothing, but her golden eyes darted around as though she was sniffing danger on the wind.
Kiba didn't so much as glance back. His gait was stiff, focused, every motion betraying his urgency. He wasn't wearing this disguise to play pretend. No—he was hunting. Every flick of his eyes, every measured step carried the weight of someone who needed answers.
But so far, there was nothing. No leads. No whispers. Not even the faintest trail. The town mocked us with its stillness, its vacant streets offering us silence when we demanded revelations.
"Fuu…" I exhaled, stretching my arms with forced ease. "No progress today either."
That was when Kiba froze.
"…Yuuto-senpai."
His voice was low, sharp, enough to make the hairs on my arms stand on end.
Koneko's expression hardened, her small frame shifting into a battle-ready stance. The stillness of the air suddenly seemed fragile, like glass about to shatter.
And then I felt it.
HEARTBEAT.
It slammed into me, an echo that wasn't my own. Not the pulse of life, but the pounding rhythm of killing intent. Cold seeped into my bones. I knew this sensation too well—it was like staring into the eyes of a predator ready to sink its fangs into flesh.
"Look up!" Kiba shouted.
The world slowed.
Descending upon us, framed by the faint twilight, was a pale-haired priest with an unhinged grin splitting his face. His body twisted in midair with predatory grace, and in his hands gleamed a sword that radiated a holy aura so sharp it made my skin crawl.
"Something like divine protection for priests' pets, eh!" he cackled.
KACHIN!
The impact of steel meeting steel rang out, sparks exploding in the evening air as Kiba's demonic sword blocked the sudden slash.
"Freed!" I said.
His crimson eyes widened as he landed, and then his smile widened into a grotesque parody of joy.
"...! That voice. Ohhh, Ise-kun!" His tongue darted out to lick his lips, his gaze burning into me with insane delight. "Well, isn't this a strange reunion? Heeeee! Tell me—has your Dragon power ripened yet? Has it gotten juicier?!" He twirled the blade in his hand, its light refracting like a malicious star. "Is it fine if I kill you now?"
That sword. My eyes locked on it instantly. The cursed aura bleeding from it was unmistakable. Excalibur. Not the one Irina carried. Not Xenovia's either. This one was worse—older, more dangerous, as though the blade itself was grinning with bloodlust.
My pulse quickened. I knew, right then and there, what I had to do.
That weapon would be mine. One way or another.
"Enough pretending," I muttered.
We stripped away our disguises, our normal uniforms hidden beneath. Koneko peeled off the sister's outfit with little ceremony, her small fists tightening with quiet resolve. Even in that moment of looming battle, I caught myself thinking—she did look oddly cute in it. But sentiment had no place here.
I raised my hand. "Boosted Gear!"
With a shimmer of red light, the gauntlet manifested, the emerald gem pulsing with its familiar glow.
[Boost!!]
[Transfer!!]
The surge of power coursed through me before flowing into Kiba. His frame stiffened, muscles trembling with amplified strength. The demonic aura of his sword flared, black energy coiling around the blade.
My role was simple. I wasn't here to shine. I was here to sharpen. Tonight, Kiba would be the cutting edge.
Freed's grin stretched wider, the holy blade in his hands almost vibrating as though it too was drunk on anticipation. "OHHHH! Yes! THIS is the fight I wanted!"
The clash began in earnest.
Kiba lunged, his speed blurring as his black sword clashed against Excalibur. Sparks flew with every strike, each impact echoing like a bell toll in the silent park.
"Too slow, too slow, too slow!" Freed sang, his sword twirling with impossible precision. His movements were wild, chaotic, but there was deadly sharpness in that madness. His footwork was erratic, almost drunken, but every step carried purpose. His blade was the storm, unpredictable and vicious, forcing Kiba onto the edge.
Kiba, though, was disciplined. His strikes carried focus, his eyes tracking Freed's every twitch, his teeth grit in determination.
Koneko stood near me, fists clenched, her body coiled like a spring. But she didn't move. She understood, as I did, that this was Kiba's battle to fight.
[Boost!!]
[Transfer!!]
Again, I fed power into him. His movements sharpened, his blade darting faster, pressing the advantage. He drove Freed back step by step, black aura gnawing at the holy light.
"Raaaagh!" Kiba roared, his sword descending in a vicious arc.
Freed caught it barely, his smirk twitching. His arms shook under the strain.
"Heh! Not bad, Yuuto-boy! You've grown sharper since last time! But—"
Another voice cut through the night.
"That's enough, Freed."
~~~
(Volume 1: life as Issei is over in my Patreon and Vol 2: Rise of God has started. If you are interested check it out.)
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