Azazel laid it out cleanly. No bullshit. Just facts—every piece of intel I needed to crush the Oblivion Syndicate.
Since the Rating Game—since my Evil Piece broke—I'd been a fugitive. Even as a Rook of Rias Gremory, I was operating under restraints, deliberately boxed in, made visible enough to hunt. A convenient target.
There was no room for revenge back then. No grand strategy. Survival came first. I kept my head down, stayed inside the system, moved quietly—because the same militia that erased Nagano, that turned Suzuka's and Haruka's homes into rubble, was hunting me.
So, no.
Don't fuck with me.
Yeah, they almost had me in Săcele—before the vamps intervened.
Yeah, I curbstomped them in Budapest.
But that was defence.
Reaction.
Basic survival instinct, enough to keep me alive and pretending I could do something about it in the future.
Now it was different.
Now I finally had the freedom to go on the offensive.
If I did even half as well in a counter-offensive as Ukraine did in its first year of war, the Oblivion Syndicate wouldn't just be weakened—it would be erased from the map.
Because this time, I wasn't improvising.
This time, I had production.
Production that burned through my veins and Nelu's spine alike.
Missiles.
And headquarters don't survive precision strikes.
And now? I know what they are.
A Satanic militia.
All the old cults, stitched into one body under the so-called LaVeyan Church and the Old Maou Faction.
LaVeyans who treated Satan as branding.
Setian offshoots preaching self-deification.
Typhonian and draconian orders chasing pre-human gods.
Fraternitas Saturni remnants and their Saturnine death rites.
Luciferian sects and Left-Hand Path cabals.
Thelemite splinters who turned will into worship.
European lodges like Dragon Rouge, ritualists addicted to transgression.
The whole wormpit, reincarnated as devils—serving a faction preaching bloodline purity? The same way Hungary only cares for Hungarians within its borders?
It's beyond stupid, really. They basically live on borrowed time, anyway.
"Their leader is called Gabor LaVey," Azazel said. "Our researchers have concluded that he wields a Longinus. The Holy Nail. Alphecca Tyrant"
Holy shit. That's a relative of Anton LaVey or something?
Also, Alphecca Tyrant? Yeah, I'm gonna need more info on that.
As if reading my thoughts, Azazel began.
"Alphecca Tyrant isn't just a weapon," he added. "It's a Holy Nail that overwrites what a being is—drive, loyalty, even identity. That's how LaVey built an army out of people who should never have followed him."
Yikes.
So my enemy isn't just a commander. He's a sociopath with the power to turn people into slaves on contact.
That makes this harder than I thought.
Because no matter how much damage I do—how many safehouses I wipe out, how much territory I burn—none of it actually matters in the long run. As long as Gabor LaVey is alive, his army replenishes itself.
The Syndicate ain't even a Hydra. It doesn't grow its head back after you cut it.
LaVey just makes a new one.
This isn't a war of attrition. It never was.
It's a decapitation problem—and until he's dead, Oblivion never really runs out of bodies.
"This Gabor LaVey guy," I said, glancing back at Azazel, "any relation to Anton? The founder of the so-called Church of Satan?"
"Precisely," Azazel replied. "Our intelligence confirms it. He was born in Hungary—part of a branch of the family that remained in Transylvania until the Romanian Revolution in 1989."
That explained more than I liked.
The ideology. The theatrics. The obsession with domination disguised as liberation. This wasn't some random tyrant who stumbled onto power. It was inheritance—blood, dogma, and ambition refined over generations.
And now it had a supernatural accelerator.
"Born in Győr. 1990. Currently residing in Budapest," Azazel said, like he was reading weather data.
Holy shit.
I'd been in his city. Walking its streets. Breathing the same air. And he'd only sent—what—thirty, maybe fifty men after me.
What the fuck?
That wasn't a failure.
That was a test.
Not an attempt to kill me. A probe. A way to measure how much pressure I could take before breaking, how loudly I'd scream, how much collateral damage I'd cause.
If he'd wanted me gone, he could've flooded the board. Instead, he tapped it—once—and watched how the pieces moved.
Which meant one thing.
I wasn't a target yet.
I was an assessment.
And that was somehow worse.
The Syndicate called me their main target. Yeah—maybe to the foot soldiers. To reincarnated devils who used to be average humans. Office workers. Dropouts. Internet cultists.
People who woke up with wings and speed but no real demonic power, no training—nothing but stolen weapons to lean on.
To them, I was the obstacle. The reason Nagano burned and then slipped through their fingers. The thing that proved they weren't invincible.
But to their leader?
To LaVey, I'm nothing more than an ant. A disposable nobody. A piece on his chessboard he hasn't even bothered to move yet.
And that meant one thing.
The moment I stop being insignificant…
Is the moment this stops being a game.
Some time later, me and the girls gathered in the living room.
Azazel adjusted his coat, eyes flicking over the group once. "I'll arrange your transport back to Japan," he said, like he was offering a ride across town.
He raised a hand.
The air folded.
There was no flash, no sound—just pressure, like the world inhaling all at once.
My stomach lurched as gravity lost its opinion, space compressing around us in a way that made my half-human body protest immediately.
Then—
We landed.
My room. The same wooden floor, the same quiet hum of the evening outside.
Haruka and Suzuka adjusted themselves silently.
The room was still. Only our breaths filled it.
"Okay, I've heard of magic circles," Haruka smirked, nudging Suzuka like it was totally normal, "but that felt like I got hit by every demon in the neighborhood at once. Zero stars for comfort."
Suzuka shot her a look. "You're not supposed to joke after that."
Haruka shrugged. "I joke because of that."
I nodded.
"Yeah. That was pretty much my reaction too—back when I was still in Rias' peerage. You get used to it."
We shared a laugh. It didn't last.
The girls would be returning to Nagano tomorrow. I acknowledged the fact and left it there, hoping they'd still come visit me after everything that happened.
It's going to be… quiet without them.
I sighed inwardly. Why am I getting worked up over this—like it's some kind of pathetic breakup?
"Something wrong?" Haruka asked, raising a brow.
I shrugged.
"Nah. Just… intrusive thoughts, I guess."
Suzuka tilted her head slightly, her voice soft. "You seem… kind of pale."
Pale? That's new. I'm not a vampire… but I feel like—
Nah. Not the kind of thing to joke about. Romania's in their hands, and they're as incompetent as every politician after '89.
I needed to meet that dhampir kid soon. Get more information.
"Don't worry about it," I forced a chuckle.
Should I tell them I'm thinking about how I would face the club… or about my country?
I'm so fucking awkward…
I exhaled and closed the distance between us, my left hand sliding into Haruka's hair, my right into Suzuka's. I ruffled them both gently.
Both girls blushed, caught off guard. Haruka was the first to recover, a sly grin popping at the corner of her lips.
"Ohhh, I get it now. Kokonoe-kun was thinking he'd be lonely without us, wasn't he~?"
Bullseye.
What the fuck? Was it that obvious?
Suzuka gave a small, hesitant smile, her voice quiet. "Y-yeah… I guess you were, weren't you?"
"Y-you two are just imagining things. Yeah. Totally," I retorted, feeling cornered.
Yeah… good job, Mihai. That sounded totally convincing.
"Aaaa, tsundere Kokonoe-kun is sooo cute," Haruka squeaked, then grabbed my left arm, her sly grin snapping back. "Don't worry—you're not getting rid of us any time soon~"
Suzuka reached for my right arm, her touch soft and careful. "Yeah… we're not going anywhere," she said, her quiet smile gentle but firm.
I laughed softly, feeling some of the weight lift off my shoulders.
I can't even be insecure with these two around… sheesh.
"Still…" Haruka said, her free hand slipping into Suzuka's (effectively trapping me between them). "I'm really looking forward to walking to school with Suzuka… eating lunch together… maybe even karaoke…"
She let out a soft, teasing laugh.
Suzuka, for her part, blushed quietly and giggled, her voice gentle. "Mou, Haruka-chan…", Then, more softly, "I'd really love that…"
Finally, things were slowly starting to feel normal again.
But there was still something I had to do. Or rather…
somewhere I had to be.
No more hiding.
__________
(scene break)
It was just Akeno and me in the ORC clubroom.
"So you're alive after all. Ufufu~" she chuckled.
So she'd been expecting this. Of course she had. There was a certain ease to her posture now—someone who knew exactly where she stood. Someone enjoying her new position of power.
Still, she shouldn't forget who put her there in the first place.
Not that I ever planned for it. Power vacuums don't ask permission—you just happened to be the one who stepped in after Rias fell.
"Not only did I survive," I said evenly, "my Evil Piece broke. I'm no longer a devil."
I caught the flicker of shock in her eyes, quickly shifting into realization. She connected the dots.
"So that's why you could say a holy word without getting zapped," she muttered.
That thoughtful look said it all. Whatever scheme she'd been planning for me was suddenly useless.
"Yeah," I continued. "Suzuka awakened her Sacred Gear. It's a healing one. After the fight with Riser, after my Evil Piece broke… she healed me. I'm only alive thanks to her."
Akeno chuckled, clearly amused with herself.
"I heard what happened in Paris. I don't trust my peerage's chances of survival would be high against you three, ufufu~"
At least she knows it.
Wait—your peerage?
Sheesh. I really did create a monster.
"And not only can't you brand me a stray devil," I said evenly, "you can't label me as a threat to your faction either."
The subtle shift in her shoulders told me she was banking on that as a last resort—if I went rogue, if I became too hard to control.
Then her smile turned predatory.
"Oh? How so?~" she asked, voice teasing.
"I'm protected by the Fallen Angels. A deal with the Governor General himself," I said, still even.
I watched her composure crack. She clearly held a lot of contempt for the Fallens.
The kind of contempt that carries a certain… fondness. Like an existential issue. Like my own disagreement with Hungarian irredentism, despite being half-Hungarian myself.
Could it be?
If she's half a Fallen Angel, that would explain a lot. Her sadistic streak. The way she weaponizes her own body.
Got you figured out, ha! Same existential dread. Same contradiction.
"I wasn't planning it… unless you went too far," she smirked.
"After all…" Her voice turned sweet, almost saccharine, as she lifted a finger under my chin, tilting my face up to meet her gaze.
"I enjoy this new place of power you put me in. Ufufu~" she giggled softly, like a cat toying with its prey.
I didn't know whether to cringe or smirk at her behavior. A greedy girl, forced onto the sidelines, finally stepping into her full potential.
The thrill must consume her.
"If anything," she finished decisively, "I would rather collaborate with the three of you."
She tilted her head, a sly smile forming on the corner of her lips.
"That way… you get to keep seeing Koneko-chan too. She's been missing you terribly, you know~"
Yeah, I knew. I wouldn't have left if I hadn't been worried about what you might do, though.
I left that part out. Apparently, Akeno liked me enough to let me live.
Was it a twisted sense of gratitude? Or something more?
Did I just get myself a yandere? Even Haruka had grown out of that phase.
"Well," I said at last, breaking the silence, "we should make it official then."
"Ara ara~ so impatient~"
Her laughter was light. The air around her wasn't.
Hands folded, Akeno's gaze drifted past me—toward an unseen horizon, toward a future already calculating itself.
"Word will spread," she added calmly.
"About alliances. About broken Evil Pieces. About Devils who are no longer Devils."
I followed her gaze.
Somewhere out there, old kings would take notice.
Old factions would start asking questions.
And the Occult Research Club would eventually come knocking.
Good.
Let them come.
The board was set.
And this time, I wouldn't be the piece everyone moved.
_____
[Issei POV]
The teleport circle dumped me right in front of the house like I'd been kicked out of the Underworld by an invisible foot. My legs shook for a second—still not used to long-distance magic circles—but the smell of Mom's cooking hit me immediately.
Garlic, soy sauce, something fried. Yeah, I'm home.
I pushed the door to the kitchen open.
And froze.
The dining table was full.
Mom was at the head, smiling like this was the most normal dinner in the world. Across from her sat two girls in exorcist uniforms—one with long brown hair and the biggest, brightest smile I'd ever seen, the other with short blue hair and the kind of stare that could probably cut glass.
The cheerful one jumped up the second she saw me.
"Ise-kun!"
She launched herself across the room and slammed into me with a hug so strong I almost went airborne. Her arms locked around my neck, cheek pressed to mine.
"I missed you so much! It's been forever!"
I blinked, brain lagging.
"...Rin?"
She pulled back just enough to beam at me, eyes sparkling.
"It's Irina now! But yes! It's me!"
Irina. The name clicked. The voice clicked. The hug clicked.
But the face—
I stared.
Opened my mouth.
Closed it again.
"You're… a girl?"
The words fell out before I could stop them.
Irina blinked. Then burst out laughing, loud and bright, like I'd just told the best joke ever.
"I knew you'd say that! I was such a tomboy back then, right? Everyone thought I was a boy! Even you!"
She spun once, skirt flaring, then struck a dramatic pose.
"Ta-da! Surprise! I grew up!"
Mom chuckled from the table. "She's been telling stories all evening, Ise. Apparently you two used to play 'knight and dragon' in the park."
"Yeah…" I rubbed the back of my neck, face heating up. "I… uh… always lost."
Irina giggled again. "You were terrible at being the dragon! You kept falling over!"
Yeah… and now I've got a real one inside me.
Funny how that works.
The other girl—Xenovia—hadn't moved. She just watched me over the rim of her teacup, eyes narrow, like she was trying to read something written on my soul.
I met her gaze.
She didn't smile.
She didn't speak.
She just stared.
Hard.
I swallowed.
"...Hi."
Xenovia set the cup down slowly.
"You're Hyoudou Issei."
It wasn't a question.
"Yeah."
She tilted her head slightly, still staring.
"There's something… off about you."
Irina elbowed her. "Xenovia! Don't be rude! He's my childhood friend!"
"I'm not being rude. I'm being observant."
Her eyes flicked to my chest, then my hands, then back to my face.
"Your aura is strange. Too… layered. Like there's more than one person inside."
Mom cleared her throat.
"Dinner's getting cold, dear. Sit down and eat before it's all gone."
I dropped into the empty chair between Irina and Xenovia, suddenly very aware of how quiet the room had gotten.
Irina immediately started piling food onto my plate like nothing happened.
"You have to try Mom's gyoza! She said it's her special recipe!"
Xenovia, meanwhile, kept watching me like I was a puzzle she hadn't decided whether to solve or destroy.
I picked up my chopsticks.
This was going to be a long dinner.
And something told me Xenovia wasn't going to let the "something off" comment go anytime soon.
________
The faint scent of incense hit me like a breeze as I stepped into the ORC clubroom. This is where it all began.
I stepped inside. No dramatic entrance. No sparks of magic. Just me, back from Paris. I loved every second of it. The alliance with Azazel had finally turned me from fugitive to a power player, able to stand on my own feet.
To play this stupid game on my own terms.
Akeno's sharp eyes found mine immediately. Her posture carried confidence—someone who had settled into her new position.
It's time to make it official. We communicated by gaze alone, no words needed.
Koneko sat quietly in the corner, her small frame tense. Her gaze softened slightly when our eyes met.
Like she didn't know whether to hug me or scold me for being gone so long.
We need to talk, her eyes seemed to say.
Yeah, stop by my house later.
Kiba was leaning casually against a desk. Not particularly relaxed, nor too alert either. More like waiting.
I could see the quiet calculation behind his dark eyes. He'd suspected I survived—his expression had said as much—but confirmation now must have sparked something primal: the thrill of a predator recognizing another.
Hyoudou froze mid-step, chopsticks half-raised. His face went pale as the realization hit him.
Asia's hand froze on her teacup. She blinked rapidly, trying to process it: me, alive. In front of her.
I let the door click closed behind me, the sound slicing through the room like a knife. Silence stretched for a heartbeat. Then I spoke, deliberately calm.
"I'm back," I said as casually as if this was another regular Tuesday.
Hyoudou's jaw twisted, like he was trying to form a response but the words wouldn't come. Asia's eyes went wide.
Akeno tilted her head, smirk faint but sharp. "Ufufu~ so you've survived Paris, Kokonoe-kun. Good to see you, though I expected as much."
Way to expose me, Vice President.
I let the weight of my presence settle over the room.
"Paris…?" Koneko murmured under her breath, more to herself than anyone else. "So that's where Senpai ran off…"
I caught it anyway.
Kiba shifted slightly but didn't speak. His eyes followed me, unreadable. He understood the implications.
Hyoudou finally managed, voice shaky. "Y-you… you're… alive? After—after everything?"
Asia's whisper followed: "I… I thought—"
I cut it off before it could spiral. "I'm here. That's all that matters right now."
Akeno stepped slightly closer, her posture casual but deliberate. "Ufufu~ it seems the clubroom has become quite lively, doesn't it?~"
I didn't respond with words. I let my gaze drift across the room, letting everyone understand the message: I wasn't here to entertain or reassure.
The tension hung thick in the air.
Then, slowly, I moved toward the center of the room, deliberate. The ORC members adjusted themselves. Koneko's small sigh of relief was subtle, but I noticed.
I took a seat on the couch besides her, and our hands brushed for a brief moment, her thumb wrapping around mine.
Hyoudou's shock hadn't faded, but he was slowly steadying himself. Asia clutched her teacup tighter. And Kiba—well, Kiba's dark smirk betrayed nothing, but the shift in his stance told me he was ready.
I allowed a single, slight smirk to brush my lips. The game had changed. And they knew it.
All of a sudden, Hyoudou jumped up, face twisted in anger. "Hey, wait a minute! This is all your fault! If you hadn't poisoned Riser, Buchou wouldn't be stuck marrying him!"
I didn't plan any of this. Not really.
But somehow, the balance tilted in my favor.
If she hadn't been cornered into marrying him, I'd be the one branded a stray—hunted down like a criminal for the crime of freeing myself.
Funny how that works.
I wasn't about to explain that to Hyoudou. I wasn't going to spell out how his number two girl had been an existential threat to me, or how much her absence stabilized my entire position.
He didn't need to hear that.
Besides, Azazel had already covered my back. Thoroughly.
I met Hyoudou's gaze, steady and unflinching.
"If you've got time to blame me," I said calmly, "you've got time to get strong enough to save her."
He stiffened like I'd struck him.
Then, slowly, he sat back down, fists clenched so tight his knuckles went white.
"I… I will."
I watched him for a moment longer.
Yeah.
The kid's got balls. I'll give him that.
"That aside… Let's get one thing straight," I continued evenly, voice low but carrying. "I'm no longer bound by Rias' peerage. I've returned on my own terms. And that changes everything."
Except for Koneko and Akeno, they were all lost. I could see it on their faces.
So I elaborated.
"My Evil Piece broke," I said evenly. "I'm no longer a Devil."
I let the words hang.
"EHHHHHHHHH?!"
Hyoudou's shriek tore through the room, immediately followed by Asia's soft gasp. Kiba didn't shout—he narrowed his eyes, studying me like a blade testing its edge.
"Certainly…" he said after a moment. "Kokonoe-kun's aura does feel different. More human… yet not entirely."
"I know it sounds unbelievable," I continued. "But it's the truth."
I paused, letting the weight of it settle, letting their gazes rest on me.
"Himejima-senpai and I have agreed to an alliance," I said calmly. "Me and the girls will fight alongside you. And as a sign of trust, I'll tell you everything—about me, and about the cult."
I had no speech prepared. Just the facts.
"First," I said, voice steady, "I'm not from this world. Not originally. I'm a reincarnate."
Silence fell again.
Asia blinked, her voice barely audible. "W-what… what do you mean?"
"I have memories of a past life," I said. "My real name is Mihai Grădinaru. I was born and raised in Romania. I died… and I woke up here."
"Ehhhh?" Issei leaned forward, eyes wide. "Like those protagonists in isekai manga?"
Bullseye, Hyoudou.
"Yeah," I sighed. "Trust me, I know. It sounds sketchy as hell."
"I think that's kinda cool, though," he said, his voice unusually low for once.
Then Hyoudou hummed, brows knitting as something clicked.
"Wait. That purple-haired girl who was with you in Nagano… she said she was one too."
"Oh. Suzuka? She's French. Well—was French."
"So you went to Paris because that's her city?" he asked.
"Yeah. Pretty much."
Silence settled over the room.
Then—understanding.
It spread slowly, like a final piece sliding into place. The quiet realization that everything they'd seen until now finally made sense.
"As for the Oblivion Syndicate… the organization I fought in Nagano. Imagine every possible Satanic cult mashed into one—LaVeyans, Setians, Typhonians, Thelemites, Fraternitas Saturni. The whole wormpit."
Asia shrieked softly, hands flying to her mouth. The sound cut through the room—raw, unfiltered fear.
I kept going.
"Their leader wields a Sacred Gear that rewrites the soul entirely," I said evenly. "Drive. Loyalty. Identity. Which means their army doesn't just recruit—it replenishes itself."
Silence.
Akeno didn't flinch. She didn't stiffen. Her smile remained—perfectly measured, perfectly in place.
"…Alphecca Tyrant," she said lightly, as if naming a troublesome chess opening instead of a Longinus.
Her eyes never left mine.
"A Sacred Gear that forces obedience at the core level," she continued, tone calm, analytical. "How inefficiently cruel."
The slightest pause—less than a heartbeat—betrayed her. Not fear.
Calculation.
Kiba's jaw clenched, teeth grinding. His gaze dropped to the floor for a second before lifting again, darker than before. "So even killing them doesn't free them."
"No," I replied. "It just clears the board."
The room hung heavy with the weight of that truth. Hyoudou shifted uncomfortably, his fists still clenched from earlier. Asia fidgeted with her teacup, eyes downcast. Koneko stayed silent beside me, her hand still near mine.
Before anyone could respond, the door burst open.
Two girls strode in—exorcist cloaks fluttering, holy aura crackling like static in the air. The blue-haired one led, expression cold and focused. Behind her, the chestnut-haired one smiled brightly, but her eyes scanned the room like a hunter spotting prey.
They stopped short when they saw the group.
The brown haired girl's gaze locked on Hyoudou first. "Ise-kun?!"
Hyoudou blinked. "Irina?!"
She rushed forward, arms open for a hug—but froze halfway. Her holy senses must've kicked in. She stepped back, eyes widening in shock.
"Ise-kun, you… you're a devil?!"
The room tensed. Asia shrank back slightly. Koneko's eyes narrowed.
Hyoudou rubbed the back of his neck, face flushing. "Yeah… about that. It wasn't my choice. I got killed by a fallen angel, and Buchou—Rias Gremory—saved me. She turned me into her servant and here I am now."
Irina's expression crumpled—a mix of betrayal and confusion. "But… why? You were always so… normal. Playing knights and dragons… and now you're… one of them?"
Her voice cracked—just a little.
Yeah. Figures. Hyoudou and this Church girl clearly went way back. Childhood friends, now standing on opposite sides because of "allegiance."
A cheap soap opera. Telemundo presenta, with a Japanese supernatural coat of paint.
Hyoudou looked guilty, but defiant. "I didn't have a choice, Irina. But I'm still me."
The blue haired one, meanwhile, crossed her arms, uninterested. She scanned the room—landing on Akeno last.
"My name is Xenovia Quarta. We're here on Church business," she said bluntly, voice flat and commanding. "Three of the Excaliburs have been stolen from the Vatican, the Protestant Church, and the Eastern Orthodox Church. We were sent to retrieve them."
Akeno leaned back in her chair, her smile sharpening into something almost predatory. "Ara, ara~ And you chose to stroll into a devil's clubroom? Bold… very bold."
Xenovia didn't flinch, her eyes cold, unwavering. "Our investigations indicate that the Oblivion Syndicate—the organization responsible for the destruction in Nagano—is behind the theft."
Wait… what the hell? My brain stuttered. They actually managed to steal Holy Swords? These aren't just ordinary humans—they're reincarnated devils, for fuck's sake.
Akeno's gaze flicked to her, amusement dancing across her features, though it didn't quite mask the careful calculation behind her eyes. "The Oblivion Syndicate operates under the Old Maou Faction. They are… our enemies. Especially after Nagano."
Xenovia's jaw tightened. "I don't trust devils. Never have, never will. But my mission here isn't to engage your faction unnecessarily. I'm here for the Syndicate."
Akeno's smile softened, but her voice remained teasingly sharp. "Is that so? And here I thought devils like me made easy enemies." She leaned forward slightly, her tone still light, but the edge unmistakable.
"Very well… for efficiency's sake, perhaps we can come to an understanding. A temporary truce—our factions ignore one another while focusing on the real threat."
Xenovia's posture remained rigid, but the corners of her mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. "As long as your faction doesn't interfere with the Church's objectives regarding the Syndicate, I will hold my actions to that standard."
"Let's go, Irina," Xenovia said, already turning away.
Irina hesitated, as if rooted to the floor, her gaze lingering on Hyoudou for a heartbeat too long.
"O-oh… y-yeah," she managed at last, forcing herself to move.
The two of them headed for the exit—Xenovia without looking back, Irina only tearing her eyes away at the last moment.
But then Xenovia's gaze shifted to Asia, narrowing with disdain. "Are you the "Witch" Asia Argento? I never expected to meet you in a place like this. As a devil. The one who was called a "Holy-maiden". You fell to the lowest place you could. Do you still believe in our God?"
Asia's face fell, tears welling up. "...I just can't put it aside. I believed in it for my whole life..."
Hearing that, Xenovia took her sword out from the cloth and pointed it at Asia.
"Is that so? Then you should be cut down by us this instant. If it's now, I can cut you in the name of God. Even if you have sinned, our God will forgive you."
Hyoudou jumped up, slamming his hands on the table. "Hey! Leave Asia alone! She's the kindest person here—she heals people, even devils! If the Church kicked her out for that, they're the ones who are wrong!"
Xenovia raised an eyebrow. "Defending a fallen sister? How noble. But devils are devils."
Irina looked conflicted—glancing between Hyoudou and Asia—but didn't back down.
I'm not gonna lie… the blue-haired girl irritated me in a way that made my skin crawl.
Before the others could blink, I moved. One step, then another, and my hand was already around her throat, lifting her off the floor and slamming her against the clubroom wall.
Silence detonated through the room.
Even Hyoudou—who had been two seconds away from throwing hands with this chick for insulting Asia—froze mid-movement.
Kiba didn't.
He gave a dark, humorless chuckle… one that told me he'd been waiting for someone to shut this girl up. There was history here. Old wounds. Deep ones.
I tightened my grip.
"What gives you the right to talk?" I said, my voice low. "You come walking in here, waving your Church authority around as if it means anything."
Her eyes widened, her boots scraping helplessly against the wall.
"You're with the Vatican, right? A system built on centuries of cover-ups and power hoarding. A machine that has buried more sins than it will ever confess. Murder. Pedophilia. Human experimentation. And so on."
Kiba's expression darkened further—no mirth this time. Just quiet, murderous agreement.
"And your partner—your Protestant girl?" My words sharpened. "Don't pretend your factions are innocent. That entire schism was born out of political convenience and royal ego. Nothing divine about a whoremonger king aiming for the Most Consorts Award in history."
Irina flinched. Good. I let my eyes linger on her for a beat.
"By the way," I said, voice low, "my Welsh friend sends her regards. 'England should fuck off our land.'"
The Scotts and Cornish feel the same. Celtic pride doesn't die quietly — not even under London's leash. That's what Alwenna told me.
"I'm Japanese, I have nothing to do with that…" she stammered.
I ignored her. Leaning closer, I let my voice drop to a near whisper, cold and sharp.
"If anything, the closest thing to the original path is Orthodoxy—Balkan, Eastern, resilient. Built on surviving empires, invasions, persecutions. They endured the Sublime Porte. They endured the Soviets. They didn't fracture. They didn't bend."
It's not like they were innocent, far from it. The Romanian Orthodox Church paid no taxes, and they were the first institution to have land ownership restored by the state after the Revolution.
But, Orthodoxy for Romania? It's so deeply tied to our national identity, even in its most shallow forms.
A murmur rippled through the ORC.
Xenovia tried to force composure, but her pulse hammered under my grip.
"Out there, the Three Factions posture and pretend," I finished. "But don't walk into this club acting like your branch of Heaven has moral superiority. Not here. Not today."
Her breath hitched.
Only then did I release her, letting her collapse to the floor, gasping.
The room still hadn't thawed.
Kiba stepped forward—not to restrain me, but to stand at my side.
For once, Hyoudou kept his mouth shut.
And Xenovia realized exactly what kind of monster she had just provoked.
"…What are you?… How do you know this much?" she gasped.
"They really teach you nothing, huh?" I said flatly. "You were sent to neutralize the Oblivion Syndicate, right? I'm the one who stopped them in Nagano."
I raised a hand, calm and deliberate, letting the introduction land like a weight in the room.
"You're that reckless idiot who defended Nagano…" Xenovia said, realization dawning as she finally connected the dots. "But you're still a devil. That makes you our ene—"
I shot her a glare sharp enough to stop her cold. The kind that said finish that sentence and see what happens.
Then I continued anyway, letting a smirk form on my lips.
"Devil? Amen to that, haha."
The word hung in the air.
Nothing happened.
Shock rippled through both church girls as they realized I'd spoken a holy word—and hadn't been struck down for it.
Xenovia stiffened.
Her eyes widened just a fraction — but for someone like her, that was enough. Her grip tightened around Durrandal's hilt as she stared at me, searching for the aftershock that never came.
"…That's impossible," she muttered. "A devil should—"
"—get fried the moment he says it?" I finished for her, amused. "Yeah. About that."
I shrugged.
"My Evil Piece broke," I said evenly. "So technically, I don't belong to any faction anymore." I tilted my head slightly. "And honestly? Angels, devils… different banners, same rot."
My expression hardened.
"But this is bigger than your stupid war. Oblivion's endgame is the extermination of the human race—turning reincarnated devils into the dominant species on Earth."
I narrowed my eyes.
"I don't know about you idiots, but I'm not letting that happen. So here's your choice."
I took a step forward.
"You join me and my allies, and we march together against what's coming…"
A pause.
"…or you die here."
I pulled out my phone and dialed Haruka.
"Hey," I said when she picked up. "We've got an urgent situation. Can you bring Suzuka and get to Kuoh Academy? I'll send you my location."
I ended the call, slipping the phone back into my pocket without breaking eye contact.
"Decide quickly."
Akeno shifted first.
Not dramatically — just a single, measured step, placing herself squarely behind me. Close enough to guard my back. Practical. Intentional.
"Ara, ara~" she murmured lightly. "I suppose that answers where you stand."
Xenovia noticed immediately. Her grip tightened around Durrandal, eyes flicking between us.
Then—
The wall exploded.
A deafening CRACK tore through the clubroom as the far side wall buckled inward, concrete and plaster detonating into the room in a storm of dust and debris.
A howling gust followed.
Suzuka burst through first, wrapped in violent, spiraling wind, eyes wide in pure panic as she tore straight through the wall—
—and slammed into the floor, skidding hard across the clubroom.
Haruka came in right after her, riding the residual current like she'd done this before, landing in a crouch before rolling once and popping back to her feet.
Silence.
Dust hung thick in the air.
A crater gaped in the wall where the two of them had entered, daylight pouring in like an accusation.
Suzuka groaned, face-down on the floor. "S-sorry… I really don't know how to control this power…"
Haruka looked at the hole.
Then at Suzuka.
Then sighed.
"…You cannot keep using maximum output for indoor travel," she said dryly. "We talked about this."
Suzuka weakly raised a hand. "I panicked…"
No one in the room moved.
Hyoyudou's jaw was somewhere near the floor. Asia looked ready to faint. Irina stared at the crater like she was reconsidering reality.
Xenovia stood perfectly still, sword half-raised, eyes locked on the damage.
I exhaled slowly.
"…You made a crater," I said flatly.
Suzuka rolled onto her side, mortified. "I-I'll fix it…!"
Haruka waved it off. "Later. Structural integrity is a tomorrow problem."
Akeno blinked.
Once.
Twice.
"…Ara."
Xenovia finally spoke, her voice cautious for the first time. "What… are they?"
Haruka brushed dust off her sleeve, glancing at the devils, the exorcists, the swords, then back at me.
"Oh," she said lightly. "Judging by the weapons and the tension, I'm guessing we arrived mid-negotiation."
She smiled.
"Kokonoe-kun," she added, "are these the people you were about to intimidate?"
Suzuka groaned. "H-Haruka-chan…"
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
"…Yes," I said, then turned to Suzuka. "And you owe the school a wall."
The silence that followed was profound.
The standoff from moments ago was gone — replaced by confusion, disbelief, and the unmistakable sense that nothing about this situation fit any rulebook.