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Under the watchful eyes of three beautiful girls, Jack took a deep breath, steadying his mind. He focused, trying to summon that sword and shield he'd seen before.
A faint tug stirred in his consciousness—like a voice calling him from afar—and the next instant, his awareness was pulled into an endless void.
He could still feel his body, but before him stretched nothing but emptiness.
That call grew louder, clearer. Jack turned his senses toward it and finally spotted a faint white glow in the distance.
With just a thought, the glow seemed to respond—it shot toward him, swelling in size until it filled his vision.
What is that…?
As the light drew closer, Jack's heart skipped a beat. Emerging from the glare was a massive black city, towering and grim. The walls were forged from what looked like black steel, rising hundreds of meters high, their ends lost to the horizon.
The surface of the fortress bristled with carvings—feral beasts, runes, sigils—all emanating a weight that could crush the soul.
Soldiers stood along the ramparts, motionless in black armor, each one like a statue frozen in eternal vigilance.
What is this place?
He couldn't make sense of it. The city was magnificent, awe-inspiring… yet it felt dead.
Then his eyes were drawn to the massive gate at the city's center. Above it stood a statue—a man astride a warhorse. The rider's face was blank, featureless, yet his posture radiated pride and command. His horse reared high, mane whipping in a silent wind.
In his right hand gleamed a long silver sword. On his left arm rested a matching silver shield—the same pair that had once appeared before Jack.
Amid the city's black-gold walls, the silver of the sword and shield shone with an almost sacred brilliance.
So that was the light he'd seen—it was coming from them.
His awareness drifted closer until he stood before the statue itself. As he gazed upon the sword and shield, his vision blurred.
In his mind's eye, a vast battlefield unfolded. Legions charged through dust and thunder, led by a king who wielded that very sword and shield. His presence commanded reverence; his armies surged forward like an unstoppable tide.
Then came the banners of victory, fluttering high above. Soldiers roared, voices shaking the heavens. The liberated knelt, tears of devotion in their eyes, calling out to their king.
But the hero grew weary. War after war bled him dry until, one day, he was betrayed—struck down when his strength failed. His blood stained the shield crimson; his sword shattered in his dying grasp.
That day, the skies wept. Winds howled, and crimson rain fell from the heavens—as if the gods themselves mourned his death.
Yet the blood of the king did not fade in vain. Soaked in his sacrifice, the sword and shield were reborn, blazing with divine power.
The Sword and Shield of the Benevolent King.
The name echoed softly in Jack's mind, like a goddess whispering beside his ear—telling him that this was once the weapon of a true, kindhearted ruler.
A human king. A benevolent king. Hence its name.
When Jack's awareness snapped back, he opened his eyes sharply. Before him floated a gleaming silver sword and shield.
"Oh my, what a powerful aura," murmured Himejima Akeno, her voice silky with intrigue. "There's something ancient sleeping inside that relic."
Jack reached out slowly. His fingers wrapped around the hilt, and with a soft metallic sigh, the blade slid free from its sheath—one that was built right into the shield. The silver shield then began to orbit him on its own, shimmering faintly with life.
"Heh, a sword and shield, huh?" Rias chuckled, eyes gleaming with approval. "You're starting to look like a proper knight."
Jack didn't answer. Something deeper stirred within him—he could feel it.
That city… maybe he could summon it too.
But just as he was about to try, Rias's voice broke through his thoughts.
"Don't push yourself. Sacred Gear power isn't something you can just control overnight. If you force it, you'll only end up hurting yourself."
Her warning jolted him back to reason. She was right. Whatever that black city was, it was far beyond what he could handle right now. One wrong move, and he could probably blast himself into oblivion.
After a few more cautious tests, he finally got the hang of summoning the sword and shield. Satisfied, he let out a slow breath.
Rias smiled. "Good. Now, you're free to do as you like for the rest of the day. I need to go take a shower—I was too busy healing you last night."
"Thanks for that," Jack said sincerely, standing up.
His eyes flicked toward Koneko, who—true to form—was quietly munching on sweets. She hadn't stopped eating since he walked in. Cakes, pastries, bread… one after another.
Honestly, the way she sat there nibbling so silently was kind of adorable.
He nodded to her in greeting and left the clubroom, heading back to class.
The moment he stepped inside, a crowd swarmed him.
"Jack, how'd you get into Rias's club?"
"What's she like up close?"
Questions flew from every direction. Everyone looked curious, envious, desperate for answers.
Jack sighed inwardly. If only they knew it's a club full of actual devils. No wonder you guys can't join.
Outwardly, he smiled. "Rias thought I'd be a good fit for the Occult Research Club, so she invited me."
That answer made several boys groan in agony.
"Why you?! Why are you so close to Rias-senpai?!"
"And Akeno-senpai too!"
"And even Koneko-chan!"
Their cries rose in unison: "Unfair! We're so jealous!"
Jack kept his polite smile, but inside he was just… bored.
Teenage boys… honestly. You think this stuff matters?
I literally slept in the same bed as Rias—naked—and even I don't make a big deal out of it.
Soon after, Rias and the others walked into the classroom. They greeted him casually, smiling.
That alone was enough to make every guy in the room silently grind their teeth.
Jack could only sigh.
During a break, Rias glanced over at him, amused. "Looks like you've gotten pretty famous."
"Heh. Not the kind of fame I want," he replied dryly.
"Oh? Isn't it nice to be popular? Helps you fit in more," Akeno teased with that teasing smile of hers.
Jack shook his head. His tone was calm, almost cold.
"What's the point of fitting in? In the world of ugly ducklings, even swans are guilty."
The three girls blinked. None of them could think of a response. For a moment, silence settled between them.
Rias tilted her head slightly, a faint, thoughtful smile curving her lips.
Jack's personality really was… something else. Unique, yes—but also undeniably solitary.
"..."
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