The room was vast, built of stone with a cold, inorganic paved floor. Near the walls, blunted practice weapons were gathered in one area, while medical kits and supplies sat in a tidy pile at the far end. Every step Masaomi Yaegaki took echoed through the chamber, the sound reaching his ears with a clarity that felt unnatural. He walked forward without hesitation, his eyes narrowing as memories of this place surged back with a bittersweet nostalgia.
We used to train here so often, he thought. He remembered the days of tireless sparring with his comrades. A year ago, these days had felt like a permanent fixture of his life. After the Church high command had assigned his team to the Kuoh area, they had finally put down roots after years of traveling the world. He remembered when Touji Shidou's daughter was born; the whole unit had doted on her. Since they were a collection of muscle-brained swordsmen, she had grown up a bit rowdy, much to her father's distress. The memory brought a faint, reflexive smile to Masaomi's face.
Then, the realization struck him. Despite the brilliance of those memories, he already viewed them as things of the past. He knew that his own selfishness had brought an end to those easy days. No matter how much his heart ached with nostalgia, he couldn't go back. Nor did he intend to. Masaomi had come this far with full resolve.
"…It brings back memories. Being here makes the past feel so vivid," a voice called out.
"It does," Masaomi replied. "I imagine I was remembering the exact same days you were, Touji."
Standing before a crucifix at the far end of the room was a man in clerical robes with chestnut hair, a pure white Holy Sword held in one hand. He spoke with a softness reserved for a close friend. Masaomi closed his eyes for a second, letting his emotions swell before answering with a thin smile. It had been so long since they'd spoken this calmly. The last time they met had been on that pedestrian bridge under the setting sun—a conversation of two parallel lines that would never intersect.
"We share the same memories and the same past," Touji said, casting a glance at the crucifix. "And yet, how did we end up so far apart?"
Masaomi fell silent at the melancholy in the man's voice. He hesitated for a heartbeat before resuming his walk, closing the distance between himself and the priest.
"My heart and my pride remain unchanged," Masaomi said. "But the thing I swore to protect above all else was different from yours. In the end, it's as simple as that."
"The thing you protect above all else... So that hasn't changed either, has it?"
"No. No matter how much I'm lectured, I don't think it will change even if I die. I've always been a clumsy man who only knows how to swing a sword. I don't even know how to properly woo a woman; all I can do is be honest. That's the kind of fool I am."
Masaomi stopped a few paces outside of Touji's striking range, facing him with a steady will. Seeing the soft, faint smile on Masaomi's face, Touji's eyes widened slightly before he locked gazes with him. Touji measured the distance and tightened his grip on the Holy Sword.
"I'm surprised, honestly," Touji admitted. "I didn't think we could even have a conversation. I expected you to be consumed by rage after I took her. You realize what my goal was, don't you?"
"I do. But I'm not strong enough to beat you if I lose my head. Besides, Luciana taught me that my sword isn't a tool for venting anger."
Touji understood better than anyone that he wasn't at his physical peak. He knew Masaomi was an elite swordsman, second only to himself, and that in a pure test of skill, they were equals. Furthermore, Masaomi knew the secrets of his Holy Sword. As a veteran, Touji knew the balance of victory could tilt either way.
That was why he had kidnapped Cleria—to push Masaomi into a corner mentally, hoping to strip him of his composure. Just as the Devils had tried to use the Church, the Church was using the Devils' schemes. As Mephisto had predicted, the Church was acting with cold, rational logic to break Masaomi's spirit.
Touji had assumed Masaomi's sense of responsibility would crush him, knowing his mentor had harmed the Queen of the Belial peerage. He wanted Masaomi to feel a desperate, narrow-minded need to save Cleria. That was why he had struck Luciana and allowed Cleria to contact her allies—it was all to create the perfect conditions to cut Masaomi down.
But his plan had been shattered by the "Queen's Chop" of the most stubborn Devil in the Belial house. Luciana's resolve to fight for Masaomi's sake had struck a blow against Touji's calculations.
"…The Queen of the Belial peerage," Touji mused. "I assumed a Devil would only care about saving her King, acting as a catalyst to turn your human heart against the Church."
"She is the Queen Cleria chose, and the person she trusts most," Masaomi said. "And as for 'catalysts,' you weren't entirely wrong. The promise I made to her—that Cleria and I would return together—is what gives me strength."
Touji gritted his teeth, feeling the unwavering will radiating from the younger man. He had viewed the Belial servants through the lens of a stereotype and failed to see the strength of the bond they had forged. It was as if Masaomi were proving to him that humans and Devils truly could walk hand-in-hand. Masaomi looked down at his sword, feeling the weight of the wishes entrusted to him.
He would make this a blade that protected a future where everyone could laugh together. That was his path. If he lost that feeling, the sword would be hollow—a mere empty shell without pride or oath. His past as a warrior of the Church and his future as Cleria's lover were not separate things; they were one and the same.
A sword gripped in hatred or rage might grant power, but it was a lonely violence that only brought misery. If he chose to live alongside others, he could not seek such a power. His friends had taught him that.
"And Touji... there's something I've wanted to tell you for a long time," Masaomi said, straightening his posture and placing a hand over his heart. He bowed deeply. Touji froze, his eyes wide with shock. He had expected hatred or steel, not this. Both men were open for a strike, yet neither moved their blades.
"Touji Shidou, thank you for teaching me the way of the sword, for showing me how to live, and for giving me the warmth of a family. And... I am truly, deeply sorry for choosing a path forbidden to a believer, for betraying your trust, and for the pain I have caused everyone."
During their last talk on the bridge, Masaomi had been overwhelmed by grief and could only lash out in anger. But thanks to Kanata Kuramoto's intervention, he had been given the time to truly think about himself and the Church. That time had restored the calm he so desperately needed.
His feelings were real, and he did not regret loving Cleria. But as a member of the Church, his actions had been a violation. By the laws of this world, Touji and the others were in the right. Masaomi was the one who was "wrong," and he realized he had only been lashing out because he couldn't accept that. Now, he finally could.
"…Masaomi. You... you understand...?"
"I was the one in the wrong. You and the others were right."
"Then—!" Touji started, a flicker of hope in his eyes. Then there's still a chance...
But Masaomi shook his head, a self-deprecating smile on his lips. He understood their feelings, and he knew his path couldn't be accepted. He knew he was the one breaking the rules.
"Touji... I decided that it's okay to be wrong."
"What!?"
"I don't care if this path is 'wrong.' If 'living correctly' means lying to my own heart, then I'd rather be a fool on the wrong path. I want to live with everything I have, even if it means being a bit reckless to see it through. ...That is my resolve."
"If 'living wisely' means running away, then I'd rather be a fool. I don't want to abandon my friends. I want to save everyone. If that means being reckless, then I'll do it with everything I've got!"
Those words from the boy who had reached out when they were about to give up still rang in Masaomi's ears. With no ulterior motive and no guarantee of success, the boy had stood up to "the world" with a smile.
Since then, it had been a whirlwind of absurdity. They had broken into a Satan's hideout only to win his cooperation; they had visited an Emperor only to incite a global strike that threw the Underworld into chaos. And finally, they had trampled over the schemes of the Devils and the Church using "Magical Girls" and "Super Robots." Even Masaomi, who had been there for all of it, didn't understand how it had happened. From an enemy's perspective, it was enough to make anyone snap.
"…Are you serious?" Touji asked.
"If I give up, nothing changes. If 'the world' denies me, I'll just keep standing back up, every single time."
"If your wish to protect is real, you can't give up! Nothing changes if you quit! You have to love the world that denies you, find the courage to step forward, and face hardship with hope in your heart—that is how you become a proper Magical Girl!"
Touji couldn't deny Masaomi's words, nor could he mock them. The words of the "entity" that had left a ripple in his heart flashed through his mind. He also briefly remembered the trauma of the "Nurse-Titan" and had to clutch his stomach.
Two hearts warred within him. Touji's personal desire to understand Masaomi's sincerity, and his duty as a warrior of the Church to eliminate a dangerous element. They had been clashing inside him for months, and he still had no answer.
But hearing Masaomi's resolve, he made a choice. Fine then. Prove to me your words are real. Show me you can stand up no matter how many walls you hit. This whole incident had happened because Touji couldn't discard his pride as a believer or his way of life. Therefore, he would see it through to the end. He would show Masaomi the full weight of the "World's Righteousness."
"…It seems talk won't stop us now," Touji said.
"No. For either of us."
"Then there is only one path left."
Touji leveled his Holy Sword; Masaomi raised his blade. The gentle atmosphere vanished, replaced by the lethal focus of two masters. Having been teacher and student for years, they knew exactly what the other wanted. In the end, for men like them, a sword was the only way to communicate their clumsy feelings.
If Masaomi fell here, then his resolve was only worth that much. If he couldn't overcome this wall, he would have eventually fallen later, likely meeting a more miserable end. As a warrior, a mentor, and a father figure, it was Touji's duty to deliver the final blow here.
But if Masaomi's blade reached him... if he could truly stand against the "World's Righteousness"... then Touji would watch over him as a father watching a son leave the nest. If Masaomi surpassed his mentor's blade, Touji would acknowledge his "blade that protects." He would put everything he had into this fight—a parting gift for the man who had finally found his own way to live.
"Masaomi Yaegaki. I will stand as your first 'Enemy of the World.' For the sake of the World, I will defeat you."
"…Touji Shidou. On this blade, I will prove my resolve. To save Cleria, I will defeat you."
No more words were needed.
They closed the distance simultaneously. Masaomi kicked off the stone floor, transitioning into zero-range combat in an instant. Touji swung the Holy Sword down, and Masaomi parried the strike with his blade. He stepped in further, aiming for Touji's sword arm, but the tip of the Holy Sword whipped back to intercept.
Masaomi used the momentum of the parry to spin, the centrifugal force sliding him past Touji's guard and toward his back. He unleashed a reverse-diagonal slash aimed at the priest's torso, but the Holy Sword user pivoted on one foot, dodging by a hair's breadth. Touji immediately countered with an upward strike, the blades clashing with a shower of sparks.
In a single heartbeat, they had already exchanged three blows. Touji maintained a solid defense, looking for the chance to engage in the prolonged clashing that would maximize his Holy Sword's effect. Masaomi, wary of the illusions, moved fluidly, refusing to swing wildly and instead striking for the blind spots.
"Touji!"
"Masaomi!"
They poured their chosen resolve into their steel, and the dance of blades grew more intense, a storm of silver flashes illuminating the basement.
***
"…It looks like they've started," Lovestar noted.
"Then we need to find Cleria quickly," I said.
"Fortunately, there don't seem to be any traps. Just a Church ritual area-wide that prevents teleportation."
We had watched Masaomi head down the main stairs into the basement before taking another route. A facility like this wouldn't have just one exit; Masaomi had told us about the emergency tunnel. Lovestar and I were currently heading there.
Through Lovestar's detection magic, we knew the battle had begun. Through my pseudo-Senjutsu, I could feel the prickling sensation of their aura through my Sacred Gear. It was a wild, surging power, but also sharp and refined. I really underestimated the 'battle junkies' in this world, I thought. The idea of jumping into that aura on purpose was beyond me.
Why did a normal citizen like me get reincarnated into a battle-shonen world? I wondered for the hundredth time. I shook off the thought and got to work. I opened the hidden passage at the rear of the facility and slipped inside. Shidou was occupied; he wouldn't notice us.
"No teleportation, huh? That's going to make the escape difficult," I muttered.
"Indeed. It was likely set up to prevent Cleria from escaping and to keep Devils away."
"I guess the upside is that Devil reinforcements won't be able to teleport in either."
The Bael Faction Devils in Kuoh were currently being handled by Miltan and the others. But we didn't know when the Underworld would notice. Diehauser's negotiations were surely underway, and we were officially in a race against the clock. I trusted Diehauser and Ajuka-sama, but in a chaotic situation, anything could happen. Caution was key.
I moved quickly through the darkened corridor. I had already cast a night-vision spell and was using Senjutsu to track biological signatures. The training ground was quite large, equipped with sleeping quarters, a kitchen, and even a small chapel. I made sure to stay far away from the dueling auras as I searched for Cleria's room.
"Lovestar, how did you know she wouldn't be near Shidou?"
"Based on his personality," the hamster replied. "He's not the type of man to cut down a girl's lover in front of her. Besides, there's always the risk of collateral damage; he'd want her in a safe, enclosed space. Since there are private quarters here, it stood to reason she'd be in one of them."
Impressive, Director. I realized I needed to get better at analyzing information like that. It wasn't just about gathering data; it was about using it effectively.
As we discussed our approach, I felt a ping on my sensor. It was a room at the very back of the facility, opposite from where the duel was taking place. I gripped my spear with both hands, closing my eyes and funneling my consciousness into the Gear to sharpen my senses.
"Someone's in that room," I whispered with certainty. "I feel a trace of magical energy. It's almost definitely Cleria."
"Well done, Kanata. This is consecrated ground, so my familiars struggle with precision. In a place like this, your Senjutsu and the unique nature of your Gear are far more reliable."
"Thanks."
I'm glad I learned that Senjutsu trick. I remembered Mephisto telling me that Japan was full of clans with unique hereditary powers and that I should study them. The Five Great Clans like Himejima and Shinra were major players in the original story, and since I lived here, knowing their traits was vital. Sacred Gears were often categorized as a type of unique power as well.
As a Devil, the holy aura of the Church must have been like needles for Mephisto. In the original series, Issei would feel sick just getting near a church. For a Devil like Cleria, being locked in here must have been torture. I leveled my spear, focusing on the goal.
We reached the door and found it firmly locked. I knocked, but there was no answer. The lights were off inside; she might be unconscious.
"Should I erase the door?" I asked.
"No, we don't want to leave obvious traces if the Church audits this place later. Kanata, hold me up to the keyhole."
"Got it."
I lifted Lovestar to the doorknob. He wiggled his cheeks for a second before pop—a set of tiny lockpicks appeared. Seriously, what is in those cheeks? A fourth dimension?
Lovestar skillfully manipulated the tools. I realized he was choosing the manual way to avoid leaving magical traces. I knew the Director was capable, but picking locks with hamster paws? Ancient Devils are terrifying.
A few seconds later, there was a soft click. The door swung open. Lovestar wiggled his whiskers in satisfaction, shoved the tools back into his cheek, and hopped back onto my shoulder. It was just another day for him.
"Cleria? Are you in here?"
There were no windows in the basement, and the room was pitch black. I found the light switch on the wall and flipped it.
A woman with long grey hair was lying on the bed, tossing and turning as if in the middle of a nightmare. I rushed to her side.
"Lovestar, is she...?"
"…She's fine. It's the dream-manipulation of Excalibur Nightmare. She's just being kept asleep. No physical injuries, and I don't see any other rituals active."
Right then. I leveled my spear. Lovestar nodded and hopped off. I used Analyze to manifest a tiny, needle-like tip on the Gear and aimed for her palm. It would prick her, but I'd erase the mark later. I took a deep breath.
"Erasure: Delete the dream holding her captive!"
Crimson light flooded the spear and enveloped Cleria. I had been training with Professor Azazel on using my power on others. My "Self-Erasure" was already perfect, but "External Application" was my current hurdle. He had drilled me on pseudo-healing and status-nullification. I won't fail, I told myself.
I felt the Gear's aura circulating through her. The moment my partner signaled success, I stopped the flow and withdrew the spear, using a trace of energy to seal the tiny puncture. Only a speck of blood remained; the wound was gone. I shook her shoulder gently.
"Cleria! Wake up! Cleria!"
"…Mmh… ah… Kanata?"
"Yes! Masaomi and I came to get you! How do you feel?"
"I… I'm okay. Just a bit dizzy… I'll be fine in a moment."
Cleria opened her eyes slowly. When she recognized me, she gave a weak, tearful smile of relief. She rubbed her eyes and struggled to sit up. She was pale, likely due to the nightmares. Being used as a hostage and knowing her friends were in danger must have been a heavy burden on her heart.
"Masaomi... Luciana... and Diehauser...?"
"Everyone's safe. Diehauser is negotiating, and the others are in a... well, let's say the 'safest place possible.' Masaomi is currently facing Shidou to buy us time."
It was a brief summary, but it seemed to reach her. She looked relieved, then immediately worried again.
"Masaomi is... fighting Touji?"
"Yes."
"Cleria, don't overthink it yet," Lovestar interjected. "You need to recover your strength so we can move. Trust the man you chose to live with."
Cleria bit her lip, clearly blaming herself for the duel. She looked toward the source of the voice and her eyes nearly popped out of her head.
"A... a talking hamster?"
"I am the incarnation of great love—Lovestar! The adorable mascot of the Magical Girls who have descended upon this town to protect the power of love!"
"…Kanata?"
"…Short version: he's my boss."
Cleria went through a rapid cycle of confusion, trying to decide whether to be respectful or terrified. Having the Director of a major organization appear as a hamster would do that to anyone.
"And... why 'Magical Girls'?"
"We are the Messengers of Hope. If I explain it, my sanity will crumble, so please just accept it. Masaomi already gave up on understanding."
"Oh... alright..."
Cleria decided to follow Masaomi's lead and stop asking questions. I was grateful; explaining the "Super Robot" on top of the "Magical Girls" would have taken all night. I decided to push forward and worry about the explanations later.
Cleria's color was returning, and the primary objective was complete. I was worried about Masaomi's fight, but the first step was getting her back to the park. I couldn't go far because of the Sacred Gear dart I'd given Masaomi, but Lovestar could handle the transition.
Still, to think that a park full of Devils and Exorcists is currently the safest place in town... everything about this is wrong,I thought.
"Cleria, can you walk?" I asked.
"I'm a bit shaky... but I think so."
She stood up and tried to take a few steps, but she was wobbling. Consecrated ground, the Holy Sword's aura, and mental exhaustion had taken their toll. I considered my options. Masaomi would probably be jealous later, but this was an emergency. I'd already shown them my Sacred Gear, so there was no point in hiding its secondary functions.
"Cleria, do you want me to carry you?"
"But... you're just a primary school student, Kanata. Carrying a high schooler is..."
"I have enough stamina to play tag with a Dragon, believe it or not. And I can use my Sacred Gear to 'Erase' the weight I feel. It'll be easy."
"…Kanata. It's an emergency, so I'll accept, but word of advice: never tell a woman her weight is something you have to 'erase' with a magical weapon, okay?"
I gave a sheepish laugh. Right. Noted. Cleria offered a tired smile and wrapped her arms around my neck, letting her legs dangle as I pulled her onto my back.
And that was when I realized I had made a tactical error.
"——!!"
"…Kanata?"
"Ah, yes. Kanata is a boy, after all," Lovestar noted with a smirk. "But you're the one who offered. Take responsibility for your own 'screw-up,' kid."
Lovestar, you bastard! You knew this would happen and didn't say anything! Thanks to my partner, I felt zero weight, so carrying her was effortless. But the sensation of a beautiful older woman pressed against my back was... a lot. Cleria, feeling safe, had completely relaxed. Her warm breath was tickling my ear.
My body went stiff. I had completely forgotten that Cleria was a gorgeous noblewoman with a model's proportions. This was a sudden, unexpected ambush of the senses, and it was entirely my own fault.
I'm a boy. A red-blooded, hormonal boy. I don't count the "Magical Girl" form because that's a transcendent state of being. But right now, I was very much a teenage boy. I felt incredibly guilty—Cleria trusted me, and she was Masaomi's lover. I was a terrible person.
Masaomi is fighting for his life, the Underworld is on the brink of civil war, and here I am thinking perverted thoughts! I have a problem! I realized that Issei Hyoudou was truly a genius for being able to charge into battle motivated by desire. I wasn't that strong.
But still! I finally got a "lucky event" in the High School DxD world, and I couldn't even enjoy it without a crushing sense of dread! It was Lavinia's "Empty Mind" incident all over again. Does the world just hate me? Does it refuse to let a side character have even a moment of fan service?
I'll break my limits just to change this current! Watch me, world!
"…Partner. Please... for just a moment... erase my 'impure thoughts' as a man...!"
My partner didn't send a single thought. It simply complied. Lovestar patted my foot in a comforting manner. Cleria, sensing my sudden shift, didn't ask any questions. Their "kindness" was almost painful.
And so, with Cleria on my back, we successfully escaped the room.
***
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