"That church is crawling with exiles—priests and exorcists tossed out by the Church and now in bed with fallen angels. That pure little saint must've been banished, too."
Raynare's voice was casual as she looped her arm through Tenra's, strolling beside him.
"I knew from the start," Tenra replied, his tone flat.
Raynare's lips curled into a sly smile. "Heh… Master, you seem awfully interested in that saint. If you want, I'll go fetch her for you right now."
Tenra stopped, catching her chin with a finger. His gaze was sharp, almost cold.
"Raynare, you know, aside from when you're trying to please me, you're really not charming at all."
She blinked, surprised.
"If you actually want revenge on Azazel, you should start exercising your brain. Killing and kidnapping—those are tactics for idiots. Crude, low-class, and pointless."
He let his words linger, voice low and commanding. "Asia Argento—her body, her soul, her Sacred Gear—every part of her will come to me willingly. You'd do better to watch and learn. Maybe try thinking before you act, for once."
Raynare stared at him, stunned. Then a wicked grin spread across her face.
She couldn't help it. The more she saw of Tenra's ruthless side, the deeper she fell for him—maybe he was even darker than she was.
By the time Tenra and Raynare reached the school, class was already underway. The teacher raised an eyebrow at their late arrival, but they brushed off the question with a flimsy excuse.
Rias and Akeno, of course, didn't buy Tenra's story. They exchanged curious glances, but accepted his brief explanation and let it drop.
Class was as mind-numbing as ever. Tenra yawned, eyes drifting over the chalkboard. If basic training still helped him grow stronger, or if he wasn't here to help Akeno reclaim the school life she'd missed out on, he'd never bother wasting time in a place like this.
But then an idea struck him. Maybe he could make these hours useful.
He tore off a scrap of paper, scribbled a few lines, and passed it to Akeno beside him.
Akeno, ever the diligent student, was listening intently to the lecture. She glanced at the note, puzzled, then opened it when the teacher wasn't looking. Her cheeks flushed instantly.
Tenra watched her reaction, satisfied. The effect was promising.
He repeated the process, jotting out more notes and passing them to Kalamaina, Isabella, and Serafall—every girl in his class.
Unconventional? Sure. But if he could use these boring hours to deepen his bonds, why not?
Each girl blushed as she read his words, but their eyes sparkled with happiness. Soon, notes were flying back and forth, discreetly exchanged whenever the teacher's attention wandered.
None of them cared about the lesson anymore. Tenra and the girls traded messages with practiced ease, their movements too subtle for anyone else to notice.
Well, almost anyone.
Rias, seated in front, couldn't see the notes—but she could sense the mischief behind her. Her eye twitched, a mix of embarrassment and irritation.
That infuriating man! Even as her official fiancé, couldn't he show a little restraint in public?
And Akeno—her star pupil—had started picking up Tenra's bad habits since his return!
Worst of all, Tenra was showering attention on Akeno and his retinue, while leaving Rias herself out in the cold.
Unforgivable.
Just as the Gremory princess was stewing in silent indignation, a note slid onto her desk from behind.
Her eyes lit up, but she sniffed, feigning indifference as she unfolded it. One glance at Tenra's words—and her cheeks flared crimson.
What is wrong with this guy?!
The flurry of notes finally died down as class ended. Whatever was written, Tenra knew one thing: his relationships with the girls had grown warmer. At least now, school wouldn't feel like wasted time.
After the bell, Rias shot Tenra a glare, grabbed Akeno, and stormed out. Serafall and the others headed off to their clubs, waving goodbye.
Tenra stretched, then turned to Raynare.
"Let's go. Kendo club's up next."
Raynare hadn't joined any clubs and had zero interest in swordsmanship, but as Tenra's loyal shadow, she followed wherever he went.
"President, please guide us!"
Inside the kendo hall, more than a hundred girls in protective gear bowed to Tenra, then launched into training.
Kuoh Academy had once been an all-girls school; even now, girls outnumbered boys. The kendo club was a garden of beauty—over a hundred girls, each more radiant than the last.
Some boys had tried to join, hoping to flirt their way in, but the club had its own barrier: any male applicant had to defeat a top member in a sword match. So far, only Tenra—the club president—had made the cut. He doubted that would ever change.
Not that he cared.
Tenra watched the girls sparring, wooden swords flashing. Many had joined to get closer to him, but none slacked off. Every day, he saw real improvement. Even Aika Kiryuu, once lazy and flirtatious, had thrown herself into training since making her agreement with Tenra—she was catching up to the seniors.
"Ah—!"
"Sorry, Katase! I didn't mean to—are you okay?"
Practice was wrapping up when a cry rang out. Katase clutched her arm, face pale, while Murayama hovered nearby, guilt written all over her face.
She'd landed a hit too hard during sparring.
The girls gathered, fussing over Katase and preparing to take her to the nurse. Injuries were normal in kendo, and Katase didn't blame Murayama—instead, she tried to reassure her.
Tenra stepped forward. "Let me see."
Katase hesitated, but raised her injured arm. Tenra frowned at the angry red welt—a sword mark, deeper than most. With ordinary care, she'd be out for weeks.
He placed his palm gently over the wound, channeling a thread of spiritual energy into her body. The girls watched, wide-eyed, as the mark faded, then vanished completely.
Katase stared at her arm, speechless. The pain was gone.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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