Tenra left Yubelluna and the others to handle Saji's aftermath, then headed out of the office, making his way toward the kendo club.
Like every other school in Japan, Kuoh Academy's after-school hours belonged to club activities. Rias and her Occult Research Club were off on some mission, so Tenra figured he'd check in on his own club for a change.
He wasn't prepared for what he found.
"President, please guide us well!"
The dojo was packed wall-to-wall with over a hundred girls, each one looking at him with eager, sparkling eyes. Tenra's mouth twitched.
The kendo club had started with maybe thirty members. But ever since word got out that Tenra Kamiyo was the new club president, applications had exploded. Now the roster was nearly triple what it used to be—and that was only because they'd capped admissions. If they hadn't, the numbers would probably be even crazier.
"Well, since you're all here, I expect you to take training seriously. Let's begin."
Faced with this horde of overenthusiastic teenage girls, Tenra could only rub his forehead in resignation. Still, if they'd joined the club, they'd better be ready to sweat for it.
"Yes, President!"
The girls answered in perfect unison, excitement practically radiating off them. They suited up and got to work.
Kendo club training was simple—no fancy techniques or secret moves, just the basics: strikes, blocks, footwork. Even total beginners could pick it up after watching a couple times.
Soon the dojo rang with the crack of wooden swords and the sharp shouts of determined girls.
Tenra strolled among them, offering the occasional tip or correction. With his current level, even a casual pointer could spark huge improvement. For these beginners, progress came fast; at his level, every inch was a battle.
Not that the girls cared about the limits of mastery. All they saw was a club president who was handsome, strong, and approachable, whose advice made their swings sharper and their footwork lighter. Their admiration only grew.
Tenra was oblivious to most of this. Even if he noticed, it would've just earned a faint, amused smile. He was here to pass the time and fulfill his duties, nothing more.
After a full circuit of the dojo, he had a pretty good grasp of everyone's abilities.
Most of the girls were average—here more for Tenra than for the sword—but a handful showed real promise. Murayama, Katase, and a few others might actually make something of themselves if they stuck with it.
But the biggest surprise was Kiryuu Aika.
The notorious pervert of the second year, Kiryuu had shown up unable to even grip a sword properly. Yet within minutes of practice, she was already outpacing the other newcomers. She still lagged behind the veterans, but she was leaving her peers in the dust.
A born swordswoman, if Tenra had ever seen one.
If only she took it seriously…
After a promising start, Kiryuu was back to slacking off, swinging half-heartedly, mind clearly elsewhere. She'd joined the club for her own reasons, and swordsmanship wasn't one of them.
"Kiryuu, focus."
He rapped her lightly on the forehead. She winced, pouting.
"Ow… President, I just can't get motivated. This stuff's easy once you practice a bit, you know?"
She clutched her head, looking for all the world like a genius burdened by her own talent. Tenra couldn't help but roll his eyes.
"If you're not interested, why join the club?"
She grinned, utterly shameless. "Obviously, for our handsome president."
Bold as brass—no wonder she was infamous for keeping up with the Perverted Trio. Tenra had no words.
Whatever. Let her do as she pleased.
"Hehe… Actually, President, if you gave me a little motivation, maybe I'd work harder."
She adjusted her glasses, eyes glinting with mischief.
"Motivation? What kind of motivation?"
Tenra raised an eyebrow, amused despite himself.
"For example, if I train seriously, you grant me a tiny request. Deal?"
"What kind of request?"
"Oh, I can't say now. But come on, President—you wouldn't let a lost genius beauty go to waste, would you?"
"Whether you waste your talent is your own business."
"Aww… Don't be so heartless, President! Please, save me!"
Tenra couldn't help but laugh. Only Kiryuu would demand to be rescued from her own laziness.
Still, after a moment's thought, he relented.
"Fine. If you want a favor, you'll have to earn it. Train hard, and beat Murayama and Katase. Become the club's top member."
Kiryuu's eyes sparkled with victory. "Deal, President! You said it yourself!"
Tenra watched her strut off, suspicious he might have set the bar too low.
—
That evening, at the Kamiyo household—
"Tenra-sama."
A shimmer of light, and Yubelluna and Mihae stepped out of a teleportation circle.
They found Tenra and Tosca tangled together on the bed. Yubelluna, used to such scenes, didn't bat an eye; Mihae blushed and looked away.
After reaching bliss with Tosca, Tenra gently caressed her cheek, then got up. A pulse of spiritual energy cleansed away the evidence of pleasure, and he dressed before turning to Yubelluna and Mihae.
"Did you find him?"
"Yes. Just as you thought, he's in town."
"Take me to him."
"Tenra-sama, that man is dangerous. You shouldn't—"
Yubelluna's face was tight with worry.
Tenra smiled, stepping closer.
"Yubelluna, you're a capable servant and a wonderful Queen. But—"
He tapped her gently on the forehead. "Have a little more faith in me."
Her eyes softened, shimmering like water. "Understood, my King…"
She said no more. With a tap of her staff, magic light flared, and the three of them vanished.
—
Elsewhere, in a luxurious penthouse, a middle-aged man in a bathrobe lounged on a sofa, swirling a glass of red wine. He looked utterly at ease.
Azazel, Governor of the Fallen Angels.
"Yo, kid. You finally showed up."
As Tenra, Yubelluna, and Mihae materialized from the magic circle, Azazel raised a casual hand, as if greeting an old friend.
"You knew I'd come?"
Tenra arched an eyebrow, amused.
Azazel grinned. "Your Queen and Bishop have been casing this place all day. Hard not to notice."
Yubelluna and Mihae exchanged uneasy glances. They'd thought they were being careful, but against a legend like Azazel, maybe that was wishful thinking.
"Alright, kid, let's hear it. If you're here about Raynare, sorry—but I've got my own problems."
"We'll talk about Raynare. But I have other business, too."
Tenra's eyes gleamed.
"Azazel, let's make a deal."
"A deal?" Azazel chuckled, swirling his wine. "Now you've got my attention…"
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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