POV: Haruki
My training with Sirzechs' Bishop has been productive beyond expectation. Samuel Liddell MacGregor Mathers, a historical figure even in my first world, was said to have been an occultist. Now, here, where magic exists as tangible reality, he is a renowned magician. There is a quiet amusement in meeting such people, especially those who once existed only in the pages of history. The man is not merely accomplished; he is exceptional, and under his guidance my progress has accelerated at an absurd pace.
With his help, I completed my personal magic circle. Which allows me to teleport to most locations with minimal effort. Normally, teleportation demands suicidal quantities of demonic energy, but with a properly designed circle, the act becomes almost effortless. At least for me. The energy cost is reduced to the point where it is negligible.
The second area of study has been human magic, specifically the Merlinean system. Human magic is… structurally fascinating. Demonic power functions as the manifestation of one's own will upon reality, your imagination made real. In contrast, magic operates like a form of science. Magicians study how, in what way, and in what amount their power must be applied to produce a precise effect. They learn the requirements to create phenomena , for example: "If I release this exact measure of power in this specific manner, it will produce a high-voltage electrical current traveling along a predetermined trajectory with a range of thirty meters."
From such observations, they construct formulae, complete with the correct values and symbolic structure, to reproduce the intended result. Magic circles, in this context, function as both a repository and an execution method for these formulae. They are equivalent to what chants, tomes, or grimoires would be in other systems of magic.
Symbols play a significant role. As certain words or sigils in mysticism are said to possess inherent power, such as Runes, which, though a writing system, are claimed to hold force, these marks carry the necessary conceptual weight for a spell's success. The calculations involved are not standard mathematics but operate on occult principles, more cause-and-effect manipulation than empirical physics. In a sense, you are persuading reality to accept a premise and allow the phenomenon to occur.
I have learned such spells because they can be stored within a magic circle, ready for immediate use. It is efficient. This world's magical systems, in their diversity and intricacy, remain… remarkable.
My own training with holy powers has also borne fruit; I have developed several offensive techniques.
A call interrupted my thoughts. Le Fay. She wished to meet. I accepted. I prepared, then teleported to Tokyo.
Shibuya was alive in that strange, detached way only great cities manage , a million people passing by, all wrapped in their own little worlds. There's a kind of loneliness in that, but also a thrill. Every face could be a story. Every stranger, a secret.
I wandered until the crush of bodies became irritating, then stepped into a McDonald's. I ordered a Happy Meal. Sprite, of course, they must be lacing it with something here, because it always tastes divine.
Halfway through my fries, I noticed her. Like most women in this soft-porn excuse for a world, she was stunning, long blonde hair, sapphire-blue eyes, and the sort of figure that could turn heads without even trying. She'd ordered the exact same meal as me.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" she asked after already sitting down.
Isn't it a little late to ask now? I shrugged.
"You're not a serial killer or anything, are you?" she said, only half joking.
"A good question," I replied, straight-faced. "That depends, how many does it take to qualify as 'serial'?"
She tilted her head, thinking. "At least sixty?"
Sixty? Her measurements are absurd.
"Then we're fine," I said. "Nowhere near that number."
I am pretty sure i sacrificed fewer than sixty for the ritual, and fallen angels are not counted as human.
She laughed. I was not entirely sure she understood I had not been entirely joking.
"I'm Lavinia," she said, offering her hand. "Lavinia Reni."
I shook it lightly. "Haruki Yamashiro. A pleasure."
Her gaze was assessing, curious. "So, Haruki… what's a handsome guy like you doing all alone in such a big city?"
I sipped my drink. "Hiding from dangerous, beautiful women who sit uninvited at my table."
Her smile deepened. "Sounds like you're not doing a very good job of it."
"Or maybe," I said, holding her eyes, "I am exactly where I intend to be."
She regarded me over the straw, then asked, "Are you from Tokyo?"
"No. A small coastal town, middle of nowhere. You?"
"Italy. Though I've been… traveling." Her tone made "traveling" sound like it involved more than sightseeing. "Shibuya's a strange destination for someone from the coast to end up," she observed.
"The sea gets boring when you see it everyday. Cities are different. Every street, every face, something new. And there's anonymity here. You can vanish into the crowd."
"That sounds lonely," she said.
"It is. Sometimes that is preferable." Solitude grants time to think and reflect.
"You talk like a man with secrets."
"Everyone has secrets." I said. I wonder what my parents would have thought had they known the truth about me.
"Mine are better," she said.
"Arrogant, are we?" I allowed myself mild amusement.
"Confidence is more like it," she corrected.
We traded bites of fries without really thinking about it, the kind of small, unspoken gesture that says more than any words. She told me about wandering through Europe, living off strange jobs, meeting people she'd never see again. I told her I worked freelance, which was true enough – I had stopped going to school, and that my schedule was my own. School has little to offer me now; the world of magic is far more worthy of exploration.
"You're lucky," she said. "Most people are chained to something."
"I prefer to be the one breaking the chains."
She smirked. "Now I'm curious what exactly you do, Haruki."
"You will find out if we keep speaking."
"I think I will," she said.
Her eyes studied me with deliberate patience.
"So…" I asked, "…what's a beautiful Italian like you doing in Tokyo all alone?"
Her expression shifted, a small grin. "Ah, very smooth. My own line against me."
"I thought it was fair. You asked first,"
"I told you, traveling."
"Of course," I said. " Because everyone travels halfway across the world to eat a Happy Meal with a stranger."
"It was the fries that convinced me," she said, then, more sharply, "And maybe the stranger."
I held her gaze. "You do not seem the type to wander aimlessly."
"And you do not seem the type to 'freelance.'"
Our voices stayed low. The background noise faded.
"Touché," I said. "But since we're apparently not asking real questions yet… I will let it slide."
"Yet," she said.
"Yet," I agreed.
After we finished eating, and talking about everything from terrible airplane food to whether cats secretly rule the world, I felt as if I'd known this woman all my life. There was an ease to it. No pretenses, no awkward gaps.
She leaned forward over the table. "You know, I want to get the best out of my time here in Tokyo. Show me around?"
The way she said it made it sound less like a request and more like an inevitability. I shrugged, feigning reluctance. "I suppose I can make the sacrifice."
So we ended up walking together through the neon-lit arteries of Shibuya. The crowds were thick, a thousand private worlds brushing past us, but she stayed close enough that her shoulder occasionally brushed mine.
We stopped in front of the Shibuya Scramble Crossing, watching as hundreds of people poured into the intersection from all directions. I told her the local story, how the crossing was built in the late '70s to handle the surge of shoppers and commuters, how its perfectly timed lights made it one of the busiest pedestrian intersections in the world.
"Fun fact," I added, lowering my voice conspiratorially, "there's a hidden rhythm to it. If you stand still in the middle, the flow of people parts just enough that you can make it across without moving an inch. Of course, you might also get trampled, but that's part of the thrill."
She laughed, and actually listened, as I went on about the underground concourse, the war-era bomb shelters converted into service tunnels, and the early construction tricks used to support Shibuya's rail hub without sinking into the valley. Somehow, I made K-trusses and concrete shear walls sound like forbidden knowledge.
We ducked into a cramped, old-school purikura booth. She insisted we try every filter and every ridiculous pose. I pretended to hate it, but we ended up laughing so hard one of the photos caught us mid-laugh, heads thrown back like idiots.
It was fun.
The sky had already darkened before we noticed. Night had come quietly, without fanfare. Nearly time for the appointment with Le Fay.
Lavina laughed beside me, a strawberry ice cream in her hand. I had chosen vanilla. Like a real man, or so I told myself.
"So when is the meeting starting? It's almost time," I said casually.
She looked surprised. "How long have you known?"
"You're kidding, right. I knew from the moment you sat next to me," I said. "You are not exactly subtle." My tone carried a teasing edge.
"You're bluffing. I fooled you. I am a very good actor," she said poutingly.
"Of course, you did," I replied, pitching my voice into an exaggerated, childish lilt.
She stuck out her tongue.
"But I suppose you are right. Let us go to that hotel," she said. "Although I have to say it was a coincidence to meet you here. Who would have guessed that you would also arrive early to the meeting."
"Wanted to sightsee," I said easily.
"I am quite happy you did so," she said, smiling softly.
"Why is that?" I asked, genuine curiosity slipping into my tone.
"Well, you are kind of a hot topic currently. The devil who can use holy power. And I wanted to see what you were like in person."
"Damn, and here I thought you approached me because of my divine beauty," I said in deadpan.
She giggled. "Oh don't worry. You are a real hottie as well," she said, her tone dipping into something deliberately sultry.
I chuckled. "And what is your judgement?"
"Intense, very intense," she said. "It's like you've got an opinion on everything, and you actually care about all of it, from the history of plough design to the evolution of vowel shifts. You don't just skim over life, you drill down into it, almost obsessively. You seem to see every topic as a thread in some vast tapestry you're trying to map out, whether anyone else notices or not."
It was a surprisingly accurate assessment for someone who had known me less than a day. I chuckled again.
We spoke of other things until we entered the hotel room. Le Fay was already there, seated with the patient posture of someone who had been waiting. The petite, blonde-haired girl greeted us, and we took our seats.
Idle conversation followed. Then, I asked: "How is my sister?" My voice was calm.
"She is fine. She has begun training in magic and use of her sacred gear. She is quite talented," Le Fay said softly.
"How do you train new recruits?" I asked.
"A bit more intense than normal. Though you are most likely asking if they are brainwashed during it," she said.
I nodded.
"Cao Cao and the others are a bit more subtle than that. They don't use magical mind control. They don't need to. Their arguments are persuasive without it. They are a bit open-minded to differing views," she said.
I snorted. "Yeah, right. Nothing suggests you are open-minded more than attacking someone for being a devil."
"It sounds less true when you say something like that," Le Fay replied. "But you are mistaken if you think that Cao Cao treats humans the same way. He is far more compassionate and kinder to humans. Above all, he loves humanity."
I did not argue. I did not know Cao Cao well enough. But I did not trust Le Fay either. The Hero Faction was unlikely to be as virtuous as she claimed. More likely, they used subtler manipulation, a carefully biased account of the supernatural to make their cause appear noble.
"What did you want from me?" I asked.
"What do you know of the current vampire situation?" she countered.
"Nothing much. Just that they have retreated to their dimension due to fear of your faction, that they even ended their century-old civil war because of it," I said. The vampires had recalled all their members into hiding.
"Correct. But there is more to it. They released some of the human slaves they had in there but not all. Which breaks one of the rules set by us," she said. "The question is, why haven't we killed them yet?"
"You have at least seven Satan-class individuals in the group. That's serious power, greater than most pantheons. So it can't be power you lack. The vampires have closed their dimension so that none may enter nor leave. So it is likely not even Longinus-tier Sacred Gears can undo the barrier," I said.
"Correct again. We can't break the barrier, and believe me, not for lack of trying on our part," she said with a sigh.
"Yet something doesn't make sense. Vampires shouldn't have anyone at the level of an Ultimate-class, much less a Satan-class. How is it possible they managed to do that?" I asked. The only recorded Ultimate-class vampire had been Dracula, long dead.
"The million-dollar question," Lavina said cheerfully.
"So, likely an artifact or a ritual. Or both," I concluded.
"Very likely," said Le Fay. "The vampires didn't just create a barrier around their shadow dimension. No, they have separated it from reality. Which would require at least an artifact of Longinus level or a Satan-class entity. I am leaning more toward the former."
I could see where she was going.
"There are two artifacts I have found during my research on the matter that are able to do this," Le Fay said. "Firstly, the Shears of the Firstborn. Said to have been forged from the same iron that bound the gates of Eden after Adam and Eve's exile. The archangel who wielded them used the shears to cut the bond between the mortal realm and Paradise, ensuring no human could return. The ability of Dimensional Sundering, to 'cut' the threads connecting one realm to another, leaving it isolated and unreachable, is similar to what the vampires did," she explained.
Such an artifact would be useful.
"Secondly, the Veil of the Firmament. Said to be a fragment of the original 'firmament' God separated in Genesis 1:6–7 when dividing the waters above from the waters below. It can recreate the primordial act of division, splitting space and sealing the parts away from each other," she continued. "It could also be neither, and be some other artifact or some unique ritual," she murmured, almost to herself.
"I understand your goal. You wish to acquire this artifact to sever things or concepts," I said calmly. "To break the oath. And you need me to help you with that."
"Exactly. The ability to sever or separate things could possibly break the oath itself," she agreed.
"Interesting. And how do you plan to acquire these artifacts? I don't believe Cao Cao or the others would be thrilled by your plan," I said.
"No, they would not. That is where you come into play," she said.
I raised an eyebrow. She intended to use me.
She stood and motioned for Lavina and me to follow. We did, and teleported into what appeared to be a secret laboratory.
"It is one of my hideouts," Le Fay explained. We walked deeper, until we encountered someone, a handsome young man with short black hair and pale grey eyes. Japanese, and much shorter than I.
"Hello there, everyone," he said calmly. "Is this the guy?" He pointed at me.
"Hi, Tobio-kun, how have you been," Lavina said, pleased to see him.
"Yes, that's him. Haruki Yamashiro," said Le Fay.
"Nice to meet you, Yamashiro-san. I am Tobio Ikuse," he said politely, offering his hand.
I shook it. "A pleasure," I said evenly.
A coffin in the room drew my attention. Le Fay noticed. She opened it, revealing a sleeping man, beautiful enough to seem crafted, his features doll-like.
"This is Dorian Thornevald. A vampire duke of the Tepes faction," she said.
"How did you manage to get him?" I asked casually.
"Some vampires are able to leave the dimension in secret. He was on a mission sent by Lord Marius Tepes, to acquire more food," Le Fay said with distaste. By food, she meant humans. Likely, he was purchasing them. The slave trade was vast among creatures of the dark. Devils included.
"So, what's your plan?" I asked, my tone deliberately neutral.
"Lavina and I have been researching how vampirism works and vampires in general," she began. "We have managed, with the help of an artifact, to craft a ritual to turn someone into a vampire temporarily," she said carefully.
My face remained impassive. "Oh? What would that accomplish?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
"The ritual is a bit more sophisticated than merely turning someone into a vampire temporarily. It can steal the identity, memories, and life of one vampire into another," she said.
That was chilling.
"I want you to take the life of Duke Dorian and infiltrate the vampire faction. The ritual is such that they won't notice if you act perfectly," she said.
AN: The next arc is officially starting!