"Everyone, from today on, Irina is one of us."
Tenra gathered all the girls in the house, his arm around Irina's shoulders as he made the announcement.
"Ara ara, as expected of my Tenra," Akeno purred, her smile wicked.
"Even a Holy Sword wielder fell to you? Congratulations, I suppose," Rias said, her tone light but her eyes sharp with jealousy.
Tenra grinned, cupping Rias's cheek. "Rias, are you jealous?"
"Hmph, of course not." Rias turned away, cheeks tinged pink.
She could say what she liked, but her body language gave her away. For all her usual poise as the Gremory princess, Rias could be just as adorably jealous as any normal girl.
Tenra found it irresistible. He leaned in and captured her lips in a deep, possessive kiss. Rias struggled for a moment, then melted into him, her arms twining around his neck.
She knew, better than anyone, that Tenra would never belong to just one woman. Not with Akeno, Ravel, and all the others—there would always be more. And honestly, that was part of what made him so compelling. Still, a little jealousy was her right, and she wasn't about to give that up.
When the kiss finally broke, Rias rested her head against his chest. "Tenra, what about the other Holy Sword wielder? What's your plan?"
Irina and Xenovia had both stumbled onto secrets they never should have known. If they couldn't be brought over, they'd have to be eliminated. That was the unspoken rule.
"Don't worry," Tenra murmured, fingers threading through her crimson hair. "I know what I'm doing."
Irina was already his. Next, it would be Xenovia's turn.
—
The next few days passed in a blur. Xenovia remained locked away, silent and unseen. Irina, on the other hand, fit seamlessly into the household. After claiming her so boldly, Tenra felt a pang of guilt—though they loved each other, he still wanted to make it up to her. So, he skipped school and devoted himself to her.
They shopped, wandered the city, watched movies—doing all the mundane things couples do. With every passing day, their bond only deepened.
Of course, their nights were anything but mundane. Irina, once so pure, was now hopelessly addicted to the pleasures Tenra introduced her to. Their passion left marks everywhere; even Irina's snug, temptingly designed "battle suit" had been torn to shreds more than once. If the Church ever found out what their uniforms had become, the irony would probably kill them.
—
One night, Tenra lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. On either side of him, Tosca and Mirana slept soundly, utterly spent. At the foot of the bed, Ravel and Irina knelt, quietly tending to him.
He couldn't help but sigh. Ravel was one thing, but Irina—she'd truly fallen. And it was all his fault.
"Lord Tenra, the Holy Sword wielder wishes to see you."
Yubelluna's voice drifted in from outside.
A flicker of anticipation crossed Tenra's face. So, Xenovia was finally ready.
Irina, hearing Yubelluna as well, tried to lift her head, but Tenra pressed her back down, gentle but firm.
"Let her wait."
After all these days, what was a few more minutes?
—
"Let me out! I need to see him!" Xenovia's fists pounded against the door, her voice hoarse with urgency.
She'd finished the devil's grimoire at last, fulfilling their demand. Now, all she could think about was Irina—was she safe? Was she even alive?
The door swung open. Yubelluna stood there, impassive. "Come. Lord Tenra will see you now."
Finally. Xenovia swallowed her pride and followed, nerves taut as wire.
Outside, a gaggle of devil and fallen angel girls lounged in the hallway, smirking.
"Well, well, if it isn't our Holy Sword wielder."
"Don't tease—her sword's long gone. Tosca tossed it out with the trash."
"She looks so haggard. Poor thing."
Their laughter stung, but Xenovia forced herself to ignore them. Irina's safety came first. She could deal with these monsters later.
Yubelluna led her to the main hall. Tenra lounged on the sofa, Rias and Akeno draped on either side. But Xenovia's eyes caught on the girl kneeling before him, hands clasped at her chest, eyes closed in prayer.
Asia Argento.
Once a saint of the Church—now worshipping a devil. Rage and disgust boiled in Xenovia's chest.
"Xenovia, how did you like my Codex?" Tenra's voice was almost lazy, but his eyes gleamed with challenge.
"The world I described, the world I dream of building—how is it any less than your God's?"
Xenovia glared, exhaustion etched deep in her features. "It's all lies and traps. I'll never believe it."
Tenra just chuckled. "Funny, isn't it? The same words, but yours are called truth, mine are condemned as heresy. That's what I love about faith—how easy it is to twist."
He was enjoying this. She could see it in his smile.
"I did what you asked. Where's Irina? I want to see her—now!"
Tenra snapped his fingers.
"Irina!"
A door burst open. Irina ran to Xenovia, throwing her arms around her in a tight embrace.
"Thank God, you're safe! They didn't hurt you, did they?" Xenovia's voice trembled with relief.
"They just locked me up. Nothing else." Irina's smile was bright, her eyes shining with feigned innocence. "What about you, Xenovia? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. That bastard forced me to read his book, but my faith is unshakable. I won't be swayed by a devil's tricks!"
Irina nodded, hugging her tighter. "That's my Xenovia. I'm so glad…"
The two clung to each other, a picture of heartfelt reunion—each more concerned for the other than herself.
Rias and the others watched in silence, smiles playing on their lips. Tenra looked on, amusement flickering in his eyes.
Women really are natural-born actresses, he thought, watching Irina's flawless performance. If only Xenovia knew what her friend had become.
—
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