"This here is the old man, Odin. No introductions necessary—you should all be quite familiar. This time, he's here to negotiate with the Japanese gods. Since the local deities here are isolationists who refuse to manage their territory, Sirzechs, Michael, and I have to mediate."
After Azazel's explanation, Jeanne Alter and the others finally understood why this perverted old god had suddenly appeared here.
Jeanne Alter blinked blankly.
"So, Japan's native gods are still around? Considering this country is crawling with dragons, angels, fallen angels, and devils, I'd assumed its gods had long since died out."
"The gods here are just like that," Azazel shrugged helplessly. "As long as their own domains remain untouched, they don't care what happens to this country."
Their attitude made spreading foreign faiths in Japan easier but occasionally caused complications—like now.
"Quite the irresponsible bunch. To think that the Norse pantheon actually needs the Biblical faction to mediate for a simple meeting. Your relationships really are messy. Azazel, why don't you all just annex Japan into your own faith already?"
"No way," Azazel protested. "We're peaceful now. As for the Church's past exploits, take it up with the Biblical God—not my business."
Since ancient times, the Biblical faith had eagerly absorbed other religions, becoming the largest religious faction worldwide. Every time Azazel remembered this, his eye would twitch uncontrollably. Because of their past aggressions, other pantheons were always wary whenever he proposed an alliance, suspecting hidden motives.
So far, only Odin's Norse faction had openly agreed to ally with them.
Himejima Akeno quietly prepared tea for Odin and his entourage. Normally, she would have handled this gracefully, wearing her gentle, flawless smile—but today, emotionally unsettled, she had delayed until the last minute.
Odin remained silent, watching intently as Akeno bent to place his tea, her ample figure swaying temptingly. Clearly, that was precisely what he'd wanted to see.
This perverted old man…isn't actually Odin, king of the Norse gods, but Zeus from the Greek pantheon, right? Jeanne Alter inwardly mocked.
She wasn't alone in thinking so. Rossweisse, the silver-haired Valkyrie escorting Odin, had also reached her limit.
"Really now, Odin-sama! Please refrain from staring at women so lewdly!"
The Valkyrie swiftly smacked Odin's head with a paper fan—did she really fear no retaliation for hitting her boss?
Rubbing his head, Odin shot her a complaining glance.
"You're too uptight, Rossweisse. That's precisely why no man wants you."
"I-I...I know already! I'm just a hopeless Valkyrie whose singlehood equals my age! Even younger juniors have already found warriors to fall in love with—I just want a sweet romance tooooo—!!"
Rossweisse collapsed dramatically, pounding the floor and crying bitter tears. Her resentment as a hopelessly single Valkyrie skyrocketed toward the heavens.
Azazel stared, puzzled. "What's with your bodyguard?"
"Pay her no mind. She's always like this. Just let her vent for a bit," Odin waved dismissively. "Valkyries have it rough lately—heroes are in short supply, budgets are shrinking, and the Valkyrie division has downsized significantly. Before becoming my assistant, Rossweisse was stuck in a corner job. Competent but with a troublesome personality."
Valkyries, also known as Valkyrja, were demigoddesses in Norse mythology who guided the souls of fallen warriors to Valhalla, preparing an army to face Ragnarök.
Suddenly, Odin turned thoughtfully toward Jeanne Alter, whose expression immediately darkened.
"You old pervert—haven't you learned your lesson yet?"
"Wait, wait! This is serious. I assure you, my intentions are pure."
Massaging his swollen cheek, Odin cleared his throat, adopting a more serious demeanor.
"Pardon my curiosity, but...ever since I first saw you, Witch-san, you felt oddly familiar."
"Please don't tell me you fell in love at first sight with a young girl. I'd lose all respect for you," Azazel quipped, instantly shattering Odin's serious facade.
"Azazel! That's slander! And stop glaring at me like you want to gut me! He's slandering me!"
Murderous glares emanated from Koneko and the others.
"No need for such hostility," Azazel laughed. "The old man wouldn't recognize love at first sight if it bit him—he only knows lust at first sight."
"Shut it, you crow. Stop adding fuel to the fire."
Odin glared angrily at Azazel before turning back seriously to Jeanne Alter.
"Back on topic…when I first saw you, I felt a strange sense of familiarity. Rossweisse felt it too. Neither of us could place it until I recently returned to Valhalla..."
Jeanne Alter narrowed her eyes slowly.
"The souls of warriors guided to Valhalla by Valkyries—Heroic Spirits. Why do you possess an aura similar to theirs?"
Azazel and Rias gasped quietly.
"Heroic Spirits?"
Azazel's expression grew somber. "Are you saying Jeanne is a Heroic Spirit?"
"No, I didn't say that," Odin raised his hands innocently. "But her existence resembles one, though she is clearly human. It's puzzling—I can't quite understand it. Witch-san, do you yourself know?"
Jeanne Alter answered with silence.
"…I see. If you're aware, I'll say no more." Odin stroked his grizzled beard, smiling gently, truly appearing like a wise old sage. "I've heard about you—the Dragon Witch who returned from Hell to exact vengeance against God. Everyone has secrets; it's normal. But beware: this world has no shortage of 'smart' people and those who believe themselves smart. The former aside, the latter are fanatics who'll pursue truth recklessly, never stopping until they cause disaster. You should watch out for them."
"Are you lecturing me?" Jeanne Alter asked, frowning slightly.
"No, just an old man's ramblings. Ignore them if you wish," Odin laughed lightly. "Though I've lost an eye, I see more clearly than ever. Drinking from Mimir's well granted me wisdom, yet I seem duller than before. I won't constrain this era's people with my so-called 'wisdom'. You young ones can make better choices than we ever did."
"This era is quite a mess," Azazel added wryly. "The Khaos Brigade, the Dragon Witch, the Red and White Dragons taking paths their predecessors never dreamed of, and an active Dragon God—I wonder if the apocalypse is near."
"Isn't that exactly why we old folks must guide the young? If the end truly arrives, it'll be our turn to step up, at least until they've grown."
Rias and the others seemed unexpectedly moved, surprised at the philosophical exchange between Odin and Azazel.
Jeanne Alter felt nothing. She instinctively counted herself among those "old folks."
Their heartfelt moment shattered soon after as Odin and Azazel's true colors reappeared.
"Since you're here much earlier than planned, we haven't settled negotiations yet. That means plenty of free time to enjoy Japan's local delights," Azazel smirked. "Anywhere specific you'd like to visit?"
"I want to go to an oppai bar."
"Haha, as expected of the Chief God—excellent taste! Some young ladies from my faction recently opened an exclusive club here. Let me show you around!"
"Hehehe! You truly understand me, Azazel-kun! Make sure they're big—I want to grope to my heart's content!"
"You've come to the right place! Welcome to Japan, old geezer! Ever played the kimono sash-spinning game? Allow me to teach you true Japanese spirit!"
"Excellent, excellent~!"
Laughing merrily, the two utterly ignored everyone else and dashed away.
Jeanne Alter couldn't help repeating her earlier jab—this old man isn't Odin but Zeus, right?
Then again, if he truly were Zeus, he'd hardly request specifically "big oppai," as that legendary horndog wasn't picky—even men or non-humans were fair game.
Hyoudou Issei twitched visibly; Rias covered her face, unable to watch. One lecherous Fallen Angel governor, one perverted Norse Chief God—these were leaders of powerful factions. One couldn't help despairing at this world.
"Odin-sama, wait! I'm coming too!"
Recovered, Rossweisse chased after them. Ever responsible and proper, she'd never allow Odin to enjoy himself unsupervised while she wallowed alone.
Yet Odin was visibly reluctant.
"Stay here, Rossweisse. Azazel's company is enough. Remain on standby."
"No! I insist on going!"
Their argument echoed down the hallway until Rossweisse inevitably tagged along.
Their departure left silence, heavier and more oppressive without Odin's antics. Even the dense Hyoudou Issei noticed the tense atmosphere, barely daring to breathe.
Finally, Barakiel broke the silence, turning to Akeno.
"Akeno, let's talk."
Akeno visibly resisted, but she followed silently, leaving the clubroom. The atmosphere remained oppressive even afterward.
Jeanne Alter glanced quietly at the closed door, then toward a troubled Rias.
"That man…he's Akeno's—"
"Father," Rias said softly after a pause. "Barakiel, a Fallen Angel cadre with destructive power surpassing Azazel, known as the 'Lightning of God.' Akeno inherited her lightning magic from him."
"No wonder..." Jeanne Alter nodded thoughtfully.
She'd instantly sensed their familial connection, but clearly, their relationship was complicated. Rias probably knew the details, but even if asked, she likely wouldn't share. She deeply respected her peerage's privacy, hoping they'd willingly tell their own stories when ready.