The battlefield filled with Magicians littered around the ground like discarded puppets, their grand plans reduced to smoking craters and broken pride.
And there I stood, wings spread, Assault Mode thrumming through my veins, facing the one person who absolutely should not be looking at me like I was Christmas morning wrapped in a challenge.
Vali Lucifer. White Dragon Emperor. Battle junkie extraordinaire.
His Scale Mail gleamed under the dim sky, white armor pristine despite the chaos. Those yellow eyes burned with an intensity that screamed *finally, someone interesting*.
Behind us, the faction leaders clustered—Grayfia looking between me and Vali with growing concern, Michael radiating that angelic serenity that hid his calculations, Serafall bouncing nervously on her heels, and Azazel...
Azazel looked like a man watching his carefully built house of cards get bulldozed by an excited puppy.
His twelve black wings twitched. That goatee practically quivered. The expression on his face cycled through resignation, exasperation, and what might've been morbid curiosity.
I caught his eye.
"So" I said, keeping my tone conversational despite the apocalyptic undertones "Should this one be considered your negligence as well, Azazel?"
The Fallen Angel Governor's eye developed an immediate twitch.
"I'm just saying." I shrugged, which was harder to do casually when you had demon wings "You brought a known battle maniac to a peace conference. That's like bringing a pyromaniac to a fireworks factory."
Azazel pinched the bridge of his nose, then turned to my opponent "Vali. You agreed to peace. Literally ten minutes ago. So what's the whole discussion about "
Vali's helmeted head tilted, and I could practically hear the smirk in his voice.
"Sorry, Azazel"
"But there seems to be more fun on the other side." His wings spread wider, light refracting through crystalline feathers "Your group no longer serves my interests. Peace was never really an option for me to begin with"
The silence that followed could've been cut with Yamato.
Azazel's wings drooped slightly. The look on his face—it wasn't surprise. It was the bone-deep weariness of someone who'd suspected this exact outcome but had hoped he was wrong.
He'd raised Vali. Trained him. Been the father figure the White Dragon Emperor never had. And he'd known, somewhere in that brilliant, chaotic mind, that Vali would choose the fight over stability.
It still hurt to be right.
"The group you're talking about," Azazel said slowly, voice tight "would that be the Khaos Brigade? The one led by Ophis?"
"Indeed"
*Indeed* Like he was confirming a lunch date instead of announcing terrorist affiliations.
"What?!" Rias's voice cracked slightly.
"The Infinite Dragon's organization?!" Sona's composure fractured.
The others had similar reactions.
I, meanwhile, felt exactly zero shock.
Plot knowledge was both a blessing and a curse. Mostly a curse. It ruined all the dramatic reveals.
Vali continued, oblivious or uncaring about the panic he was causing "Ophis and I have no interest in world domination though. We seek power" His voice carried genuine conviction "Unlike Katerea, I have no intentions of fighting for the Satan throne as a descendant of the original Lucifer."
And there's bomb number two.
"DESCENDANT OF LUCIFER?!" Multiple voices shouted in unison.
Sirzechs and Serafall went very still.
Rias looked like someone had just told her gravity was optional.
Even Grayfia's silver eyes widened fractionally, which for her was basically a full-blown panic attack.
Vali was about to elaborate, probably launch into some dramatic speech about his heritage and daddy issues, when I raised my hand.
"Um" I interrupted "can we just fight?"
Every head swiveled toward me.
Vali's attention locked back on me with. The air around him practically vibrated with anticipation.
"Doesn't it make you tremble?" His voice carried theatrical flair that would've made a shounen protagonist proud "That I'm not only a descendant of the original Lucifer but also the possessor of Divine Dividing—one of the Thirteen Longinus, the White Dragon Emperor?"
I stared at him.
Blinked once.
"Could care less, honestly." I shrugged again "So let's get this over with. I have school tomorrow. Unlike you, apparently." Pause. "Do you even have a job? Or do you just fly around looking for fights like some unemployed dragon cosplayer?"
Silence.
"That's what you're worried about?!" Rias's voice echoed.
But I was already moving.
My hand lifted, and behind me, golden ripples materialized. Sword birth magic circles like the Gate of Babylon opening.
*SHING! SHING! SHING!*
Forty swords burst forth, edges gleaming, each one like a Noble Phantasm that had shaped civilizations. They hung suspended, aimed at Vali like a constellation of death.
I thrust my arm forward.
*FWOOOOOOSH!*
A storm of legendary steel screamed through the air, each blade trailing light and history and enough power to level buildings. The sound was glorious—wind screaming, metal singing, the whistle of incoming oblivion.
But, Vali didn't move.
Just stood there, wings spread, as forty god-killing weapons converged on his position.
Then—
[[ HALF DIMENSION ]]
Albion's voice rumbled from the Sacred Gear.
The first sword hit the invisible field around Vali and... *shrunk*. From two meters of divine craftsmanship to one meter. Half a meter. Quarter meter. The blade collapsed on itself like reality was eating it, dimensions folding inward until nothing remained.
*Pop.*
It got deleted from existence.
[[HALF DIMENSION]]
Second sword. Same result. Full-sized legendary weapon reduced to nothing.
[[HALF DIMENSION]] [[HALF DIMENSION]] [[HALF DIMENSION]]
Three more. Five. Ten. Twenty.
Every single blade I launched met the same fate. Halved repeatedly until they vanished like they'd never existed.
My eye twitched.
Well, that's just rude.
"I can halve the size of objects and living beings through the use of Half Dimension" Vali announced, voice carrying smug satisfaction "No matter how many swords you summon, they'll never reach me."
He wasn't wrong.
He is definitely the strongest opponent I've faced until now. Kokabiel was powerful but delusional. Riser was arrogant and predictable. Vali... Vali's a genuine genius. Battle instinct honed by Azazel himself, Lucifer's demonic power, and a Longinus that he has honed with training.
Sword Birth's attributes are useless unless I directly engage him. Half Dimension will just keep halving anything I throw until it doesn't exist anymore.
Which meant...
Time to break out the big guns.
I closed my eyes. Reached into that space where my created swords waited to unleash. The weapons I'd forged specifically for moments like this.
The battlefield quieted in anticipation as I extended my hand.
Then a magic circle bloomed. Not golden. Not crimson. Purple and black, swirling with patterns that looked almost alive. Almost hungry.
Light erupted.
When it faded, I held a sword.
The blade curved slightly, serrated edges catching the dim light like dragon scales. Because that's what they were designed to mimic. Metallic purple and deep crimson swirled through the steel in patterns that didn't just resemble dragon skin—they *felt* like it. Like I'd taken the essence of draconic existence and inverted it into weaponized death.
The crossguard spread into wing-like protrusions, sharp enough for close-quarters gutting. The pommel was shaped like a snarling dragon head, ruby eyes gleaming with something that looked suspiciously like malice. Or hunger. Possibly both.
**[[PARTNER]]** Albion's voice roared **[[THAT BLADE—IF IT TOUCHES THE SCALE MAIL, IT WILL BE TROUBLESOME]]**
"Draco Vorax" I said quietly, turning the blade to catch the light. Watching purple patterns shift and flow like living scales "I created it specifically for individuals like you"
Vali's entire posture shifted into something only he would.
He settled into a combat stance, power crackling across white scales.
"Come then. Show me what this sword of yours can do."
---
( 3rd PoV )
Off to the side, everyone heard Azazel mutter something that sounded like "oh boy"
His twelve wings were spread for balance, body angled like he was preparing to intervene but couldn't decide if he should. The expression on his face cycled through fascination and what might've been genuine curiosity.
He turned to Rias "What else has he created? Besides that beauty?"
Rias shook her head, crimson hair swaying "This is the first sword I've seen him bring out after he fused the holy element with himself during the Kokabiel battle"
Sirzechs glanced at Grayfia, silent question in his eyes.
The Strongest Queen's expression remained professionally neutral "I was unaware of this weapon, Sirzechs-sama"
"A descendant of the original Lucifer who possesses Divine Dividing," Azazel continued, eyes locked on Vali and Isaiah "versus a former human with immense demonic power on par with Ultimate-Class Devils who creates both holy and demonic swords." His grin spread wider "Well, This is going to be quite a sight"
Then he actually looked at Rias and her peerage.
Saw the fear on their faces.
"You're worrying for nothing" Azazel said, waving dismissively "That boy is nowhere near weak enough to just get steamrolled by Vali. He'll hold his ground"
"No, That's not what we're afraid of."
Rias stared at Isaiah, the cold, calculating expression that he hadn't realized he was wearing at the moment.
"It's the look on his face," she continued quietly "It's the same as when he fought Riser. His eyes....The White Dragon Emperor will most likely die if they continue this fight"
The silence that followed was heavy.
Azazel's grin faltered. Just slightly. Sirzechs and Michael's serene expression gained a crack of surprise. Even Serafall dared not to break her gaze off from him.
None of them spoke.
They just... watched.
Watched as his demonic aura flared darker. As the mark on his forehead pulsed with increasing intensity.
. . .
( Isaiah's PoV )
I held Lostvayne as I channeled my energy through my psyche.
Six perfect copies materialized around me. Each one wrapped in Assault Mode's black aura. Each one bearing the mark. Each one with wings spread and eyes empty.
Seven of me stood in formation.
Seven pairs of cold eyes locked onto Vali.
"If you don't stand down now, this will end badly for you, White Dragon Emperor".
Vali's response was a roar of laughter with delighted excitement.
"Is that a threat?" His wings flared wider.
We sighed Simultaneously.
Of course he's not backing down. Why would he? Battle junkies don't back down so easily.
*SHING! SHING! SHING! SHING! SHING! SHING!*
Six identical copies of Draco Vorax materialized, one in each clone's hand. Dragon-slayer blades gleaming with malicious purple light. Serrated edges promising severance of draconic flesh.
Seven voices. Perfect unison:
"Farewell, White Dragon Emperor"
Then—
[[ Mist Breathing: Seventh Form—Obscuring Clouds ]]
Mist erupted across the battlefield.
Not real mist. Perceptual. The technique creating clouds that enveloped everything, thick layers that obscured vision, turned the world into gray confusion.
The first clone appeared through the mist.
Moving painfully slowly.
Each step took an eternity, blade raised, movements so exaggerated and sluggish that Vali's yellow eyes tracked it easily. He could see exactly where it was going, exactly when the strike would land, had all the time in the world to prepare his counter—
Then the clone....disappeared.
His half dimension simply Vanished back into the mist.
*SLASH!*
The blade struck from behind—*impossibly* fast, Draco Vorax's serrated edge carving across Vali's back before he could process the position change. The clone had moved at blinding speed while hidden, crossing the distance in the blink of an eye, attacking from a completely different angle.
Then it reappeared in front of him.
Moving slowly again.
Vali tracked it, wings shifting to intercept—
Disappeared.
*SLASH!*
Second strike from the left. Lightning-fast while hidden in the mist. Dragon-slayer edge biting through white Scale Mail, drawing first blood.
Third clone emerged from the fog.
Fourth clone. Fifth. Sixth.
All of them appearing slowly, their attacks with exaggerated movements that should've been easy to counter. But the moment they vanished back into the mist, then disappeared and they moved at speeds that defied tracking, striking from blind spots, attacking from impossible angles.
.
Vali's perception shattered trying to keep up. His eyes tracked the slow-moving figures, but his body couldn't react to the lightning-fast strikes that came from the mist itself. It was like fighting ghosts—enemies who showed themselves moving at crawl-pace, then teleported the moment they disappeared.
And the mist kept growing thicker.
Dense clouds enveloping everything, obscuring vision, making it impossible to tell where the next attack would come from. Vali's world reduced to gray fog punctuated by slow-moving figures and impossibly fast slashes.
*SLASH! SLASH! SLASH!*
Cuts appeared across white armor. Shallow, precise, accumulating. Each one targeted joints, weak points, places where Scale Mail's protection was thinnest. Dragon-slayer edges sang—high, keening notes that resonated with wrongness, with the fundamental incompatibility between Draco Vorax and continued draconic existence.
[[HALF DIMENSION]] [[HALF DIMENSION]] [[HALF DIMENSION]]
Albion's voice screamed, trying to halve the attackers, but there were too many. Moving too erratically. And Half Dimension required *targeting*—
The seventh one.
Me.
I dropped from directly above, descending through Vali's blind spot like judgment wearing a demonic face. Draco Vorax gripped in both hands, blade pointed down, gravity and demonic power and absolute certainty combining into one descending strike.
*BOOM!*
The dragon-slayer punched through Scale Mail's shoulder guard.
Not deep. An inch, maybe. But it penetrated, serrated edge parting white armor like butter, sinking into flesh beneath, releasing blood that hissed where it touched cursed steel.
The mist dispersed along with the clones.
Vali dropped to one knee.
Blood poured from dozens of cuts, shallow individually but collectively painting him in crimson and gruesome. His breathing came ragged, harsh, filtered through a helmet cracked in three places. One wing hung wrong, crystalline feathers broken, edges dulled.
He looked wrecked.
I stood ten meters away, Draco Vorax resting against my shoulder.
"You're tougher than I thought," I said "If I'd used the pure holy version, you'd be dead right now. But Assault Mode fosters the demonic side more strongly, so I could only manage a holy-demonic hybrid"
"Lucky you"
I raised the blade. Point aimed at his chest. At the heart beneath Scale Mail and flesh and bone.
"Give up now. I'll spare your life." My voice carried no emotion "Continue, and you die here, White Dragon Emperor"
Silence stretched across the battlefield.
Rias's hands clenched at her sides. Akeno's eyes were wide. Even Koneko looked tense.
Azazel's twelve wings were spread fully now, body coiled like he was milliseconds from intervening. The look on his face—concern mixed with pride mixed with fear. The expression of someone watching their kid walk a tightrope and being unable to help.
Then Vali roared in laughter.
He pushed himself up. Slowly, painfully, blood dripping from armor cracks, wings trembling with effort.
"You..." Wonder filled his voice beneath the pain "You're the first one who pushed me this far"
He looked up at me with yellow eyes burning brighter than ever.
"You deserve to fight my next form."
*FWOOOOSH!*
Wings—both of them, even the damaged one—beat once. Twice. Vali shot into the sky like a rocket, climbing until he was a white speck.
Then he stopped.
Hovered there.
And spoke words that made reality flinch:
. . .
I, who am about to awaken
Am the Heavenly Dragon who lost all to the principles of supremacy
I envy the "infinite" and I pursue the "dream"
I shall become the White Dragon of Supremacy''
And I shall take you to the limits of innocence''
. . .
*BOOOOOOOOM!*
The transformation detonated outward. Shockwaves shattered every remaining window within a mile, crashing down.
When the light faded, something else replaced where Vali had been.
[[ Juggernaut Drive ]]
The armor had evolved. Grown. Become something *more*—more draconic, more terrible, more fundamentally wrong. The Scale Mail's elegant lines were gone, replaced by protrusions that looked grown rather than forged. Claws extended from hands and feet, each one long enough to gut bears. Horns spiraled from the helmet, massive and wicked. And the mouth—the *fanged mouth* where a visor should be—opened and closed with wet clicking sounds.
Power radiated from Juggernaut Drive like heat from a star, warping air, cracking buildings from pressure alone.
Vali's voice emerged from the monstrosity—deeper, layered with Albion's resonance:
[[ YOU ARE THE STRONGEST OPPONENT I'VE FACED. I WON'T BACK DOWN FROM THIS OPPORTUNITY ]]
Each word was an avalanche. Buildings trembled. The ground cracked beneath from sound alone.
I stared up at the draconic nightmare.
Then I smirked.
"Very well"
"To honor this battle, I'll step into my next form as well"
My fist clenched.
Everyone watching leaned forward. Rias, Akeno, Koneko, Sona, the faction leaders—all eyes locked on me with varying degrees of curiosity and fear of what form?
Black energy erupted from my body.
Not the crimson-black of Assault Mode.
Something way more darker and sinister.
The demonic mark on my forehead blazed brighter, bleeding down across my face in intricate patterns spreading like power that couldn't be contained in human skin.
My aura shifted, Assault Mode's power merging with something else. Something new. Something that made Ultimate-Class Devils nervous and reality uncomfortable.
Four wings erupted from my back.
Folded down like coat tails, edged with blue light that crackled and sparked. Almost crystalline. They moved independently, each one articulated.
Blades manifested on my arms—blue, wickedly curved, mounted like they'd always been part of myself.
From between my shoulders, a tail emerged—thick, reptilian, barbed tip gleaming. It lashed once, carved a trench in stone twenty meters away.
My form solidified.
The head resembled Assault Mode's shape but changed—sharper, more angular, like a samurai helmet forged from nightmares.
The horns were hollow, tube-like, venting demonic energy in streams that looked like exhaust. They extended from my forearms too.
My entire form was wreathed in dark blue aura Like moonlight weaponized.
Sin Devil Trigger merged with the Assault Mode.
Vergil's ultimate form fused with Meliodas's demonic power.
The result looked like it had crawled from the deepest circle of hell, decided that wasn't edgy enough, and upgraded.
When I spoke, my voice had changed into deeper and monstrous.
[[ LET'S FIGHT TO DEATH, WHITE DRAGON EMPEROR ]]
The words reverberated across the battlefield.
Above, Vali's Juggernaut Drive form shifted. Posture changing from confident to...
Recognition.
Anticipation.
Pure battle driven joy.
He roared, voice shaking buildings.
Power exploded from both of us simultaneously.
GLITCH GLITCH GLITCH
White and Black Blue light clashing, creating moments where reality stuttered and glitched.
The faction leaders stepped back involuntarily.
Rias clutched at her chest, power pressure making it hard to breathe.
Akeno stumbled, wings manifesting for balance.
Even Grayfia looked strained seeing this side of me, who always had a kind smile on his face.
But right now I was Lucifer Incarnate.
--TO BE CONTINUED--
. . .
A/N : Anyone still reading?