Chapter 2 — Rebirth
Human. If there was one race in the world of High School DxD that was underestimated the most, it was humanity. Devils were born with power, Fallen Angels possessed holy and cursed light, and Angels were strengthened by faith itself. Dragons were monsters from the moment they were born. Humans had none of that. They needed Sacred Gears just to stand on the same battlefield. And now—I had both. Haki and Remolus Nemea. Starting as a Devil would give me immediate strength, but it would also chain me to a hierarchy from birth. Fallen Angels and Angels had their own restrictions, their own politics, their own wars. Human meant freedom. Human meant no expectations. Human meant no one would notice me until it was too late.
"I'll be reborn as a human," I said.
The old man nodded once, as if he had expected that answer from the start.
"So be it."
The darkness shattered. Light swallowed everything.
For a moment there was nothing but falling—then—
Cold.
Air rushed into my lungs violently as my body jerked forward. My eyes snapped open to a gray sky covered in thick clouds as rain struck my face in sharp, freezing droplets. I was breathing. I could feel my heartbeat. My hands clenched against wet pavement beneath me as sensation flooded back all at once.
I was alive.
The sound of distant cars echoed through the air as streetlights illuminated the empty road around me. Buildings lined both sides of the street in old brick and stone, their architecture unmistakably European.
England.
I slowly pushed myself up, rain soaking through my clothes as a strange heaviness settled within my left arm.
Then—
A pulse.
Something inside me moved.
Not muscle.
Not bone.
Something deeper.
A faint golden glow flickered beneath my skin for a split second before fading completely.
Remolus Nemea.
Even without activating it, I could feel it resting within me. Waiting.
And beneath that—
Another sensation.
Sharper.
Invisible.
Yet undeniably present.
My will.
Haki.
It was weak. Barely noticeable. But it was there.
I had barely taken a step forward when I felt it.
Pressure.
Sharp.
Focused.
My body reacted before my mind did as I turned slightly, eyes scanning the rain-soaked street until they landed on a figure standing beneath a flickering streetlamp across the road.
Blonde hair.
Calm green eyes.
A composed expression that didn't match the weight of the presence I was feeling from him.
He looked about my age.
Maybe a little older.
But the thing that caught my attention wasn't his appearance.
It was the sword at his side.
Even without touching it, I could feel it.
Something inside me—inside Remolus Nemea—shifted slightly, as if reacting to the existence of whatever was sheathed at his hip.
Our eyes met.
For a moment, neither of us spoke as rain fell between us in silence.
Then—
"You're not normal," he said simply.
No accusation.
Just observation.
My gaze flicked back to the sword.
"And you are?" I replied.
He studied me for another second before answering.
"Arthur Pendragon."
The name meant something.
One of the strongest young exorcists in this country.
A wielder of a Holy Sword.
Which meant—
He could probably feel it too.
His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his blade as his eyes narrowed slightly.
"What are you?" he asked.