"Romania…"
High atop a clock tower that sliced through the evening sky, Tenra stood with his sword slung across his back. Below, the city sprawled—modern buildings with old European bones, bustling and grand, every street alive with history and secrets.
Black hair, black eyes—Tenra Kamiyo, alone against the wind.
It had been more than half a year since he'd parted ways with Akeno. Since then, Tenra had carved out his own path, leaving Japan behind to chase legends across Europe.
He'd set out to hone his swordsmanship, to push past his limits. But even more than that, he was searching for something greater—the fabled Sacred Gears.
Magic was a closed door to him, and his phoenix blood was just a whisper in his veins. Swordplay and spiritual power, sure, he had some talent—but compared to the true monsters of this world, he was still a long way off. Hard work had closed some of the gap, but effort alone wouldn't put him at the top.
His real trump card hadn't changed: the artifact given to him by that mysterious figure—Sacred Gear Plunder.
A power that let him steal any Sacred Gear for himself. Terrifying, if you thought about it. He'd once tried to snatch the Boosted Gear, but failed—not because his Sacred Gear was lacking, but because he simply wasn't strong enough to handle a Longinus.
If he couldn't take the heavyweights yet, he'd settle for something lighter.
Whether traveling solo or with Akeno, Tenra was always hunting for Sacred Gear rumors. But even after nearly two years, he hadn't managed to claim a single one. He knew why, but it still left a bitter taste.
This wasn't the late game, where Balance Breakers were as common as stray dogs and Sacred Gears popped up on every corner. Humans chosen by the Sacred Gear system were rare—maybe one in a million. And even then, most hosts never awakened their power; the gears just slept inside them until death, then moved on.
With humanity's numbers, you'd think finding a few would be easy. But reality had other plans.
Tenra needed Sacred Gears, but so did everyone else. Whenever a new awakener appeared, organizations swooped in to snatch them up—each one a rival.
The worst of the bunch? The fallen angels and the Church.
Azazel, the fallen angels' Governor-General, was infamous—a legendary pervert who'd fallen from grace for groping women, if the old stories were true. He'd chased pleasure for centuries, but somewhere along the line, he'd gotten bored and turned his obsession to Sacred Gear research. His organization, Grigori, scoured the world for artifacts.
If the fallen angels found a Sacred Gear host, they had two options: recruit them for study, or kill them to eliminate a threat.
Tenra remembered tracking down a fresh awakener once, only to have a squad of fallen angels snatch victory from his hands at the last moment.
The Church was no better. They preached justice and divinity, making themselves magnets for Sacred Gear users. Whether those users ended up brainwashed or dissected depended on luck.
Tenra gazed out over the city, sighing. Since leaving Japan, he'd wandered Europe, chasing rumors. This time, he'd come to Romania after hearing whispers of a new Sacred Gear possessor. He could only hope the fallen angels or the Church hadn't gotten there first.
—
"Sir, this is your room. If you need anything, just ask."
Inside the hotel, the attendant handed Tenra his key.
"Thanks," Tenra replied, shutting the door behind him.
He grabbed a bite, showered away the road dust, then collapsed onto the bed, exhaustion sinking into his bones.
He was used to rough living—outdoor training, cold nights, hard ground. But a real bed? He almost wanted to weep. Truth was, Tenra liked comfort. Fine food, good wine, power, beautiful women—who didn't? But all of it was meaningless without strength. Without power, chasing luxury was just asking to be laughed at.
Eyes closed, he let his mind wander to Sacred Gears.
The new awakener was sharp—discovered his power, then vanished. Romania was a dead zone for the Church and fallen angels, so he'd managed to avoid notice. Tenra had traded a Phoenix Tear for the location; all that was left was to rest up and make his move tomorrow.
Anticipation buzzed beneath his skin, but fatigue won out. He drifted into sleep.
—
Some time later, a chill crept over him. Tenra's eyes snapped open.
Whoosh!
A razor-sharp sound sliced through the darkness—a shadow lunged at him.
Training kicked in. Tenra rolled aside, dodging the attack, then swept his leg out, catching the intruder squarely and sending them crashing to the floor.
A heavy thud. The shadow twitched, then lay still.
Tenra crept forward, every sense on edge. He kicked the body over.
A bloodless face, wild eyes, and two beast-like fangs bared at his throat.
A vampire.
Bang!
Before Tenra could react, pain exploded in his neck. Darkness swallowed his vision, and he collapsed.
As he faded, another shadow materialized in the room.
~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~
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