[Third-Person Perspective]
While the members of Team D×D were gathered before the Maou Ajuka Beelzebub, learning of the corruption rotting the Rating Games and the fate of Raiser Phoenix, a different shadow was falling elsewhere.
It was shortly before the attack on Ophis began.
Issei's father and mother had gone out together, seeking a quiet afternoon of fishing on the outskirts of Kuoh Town. They had set up their rods and cast their lines into the gentle current. Normally, Gorou would have preferred a father-son outing, but today, it was just the two of them.
"It's nice to have a little peace and quiet as a couple every once in a while," Issei's father sighed contentedly, scattering bait into the water with a practiced flick of his wrist.
"Issei is just so busy these days," his mother replied. "He's become the ultimate success story of the Hyoudou family. Our little boy has truly surpassed us, hasn't he?"
"He's left us in the dust," Gorou joked, though his eyes shone with pride. "But as his father, I have to admit… he's doing a damn fine job."
In terms of social standing, Issei had climbed to heights they could barely comprehend. A High-Class Devil. A man with his own peerage and his own territory. He held authority that made the "presidents" of human corporations look like small-town shopkeepers.
Watching the bobber dance on the ripples, Gorou murmured, "A High-Class Devil, huh… I've mostly gotten used to the idea now, but it still feels like a dream. It's all a bit too 'fantasy novel' for me."
"I remember when he first told us," his mother added with a soft laugh. "Actually, my head didn't stop spinning until long after he brought Miwa home. One night he's gone, the next he's back, three years older and bringing a girl with him."
The day Issei returned from the other world remained a blur. For him, three years had passed; for them, it had been but a moment. The laws of time and space that governed that miracle remained a mystery to them.
"Devils, Fallen Angels… it sounds like a fairy tale when you hear the words," Gorou said. "But when you actually live with them, you realize they aren't so different. Those girls are just normal kids at heart. They're our daughters. …And I'm glad we talked to them about our past."
His wife nodded. "They'll be parents themselves one day. I thought they should know. And did you hear?"
"Hear what?"
"Issei finally proposed to Miwa. I mean, we all knew it was coming, but she was so incredibly happy."
"Hahaha! Well then, I suppose a wedding isn't far off!"
They sat there, painting pictures of their children's future, wishing for this tranquil moment to last forever. They looked forward to going home and greeting their family as they always did.
That was when the world changed.
"...?"
The air suddenly turned heavy.
As humans, they had no power to sense presence or read auras. They were ordinary people who had never undergone a single day of combat training. Yet, even they could feel the wrongness permeating the clearing.
"What is that smell…?" Issei's mother whispered, covering her nose.
It was a foul, organic stench. As they looked around to find the source, they saw it.
"Guhehehe… so you're the ones? The father and mother of the Welsh Dragon?"
It had black scales and the sickly, ochre underbelly of a serpent. It was a massive, elongated monstrosity with four wings and four powerful limbs. Drool leaked incessantly from its gaping maw, and its giant hands clutched something in the darkness that they couldn't quite make out.
This was Nidhogg. The legendary Evil Dragon of Norse mythology.
"H-Hieee…! A monster!"
The couple scrambled backward, paralyzed by Nidhogg's sheer size and hideousness. While they lived with supernatural beings, they had only ever known people like Rias—who looked human—or creatures like Fafnir, who was relatively eccentric but peaceful.
But this dragon was different. It radiated pure, unadulterated malice. This was the first time they had ever been the direct target of a monster's hunger.
Nidhogg let out a revolting cackle. "The Lucifer's son said, see? He said if I catch you, Ophis won't be able to do a thing. So, I've come to fetch ya!"
The parents froze. They didn't understand everything, but they understood the word "hostage" through pure instinct. Issei had warned them about the current dangers, so they knew enough to realize their situation.
Nidhogg tossed aside the object in his hand.
It was a Fallen Angel, drenched in blood. He was the guard Azazel had assigned to watch over them—but he was already dead.
"Aaah… aaah…!"
The mother's voice failed her. Her legs turned to lead. Just as she was about to collapse from sheer terror, Gorou grabbed her hand.
"W-We have to run! Stand up!"
"I can't… my legs won't move!"
"Damn it! Get on my back! We have to go! If we get caught, we'll only be a burden to Issei!"
Gorou cursed his own naivety. Why had they come out here to fish? Why hadn't they taken the threat more seriously? But regret was a luxury they didn't have. He hoisted his wife onto his back and sprinted, his heart hammering against his ribs, searching desperately for a place to hide.
But their opponent was a legend. A normal human didn't stand a chance.
"Guhe, guhehe! You ain't goin' nowhere!"
With a burst of speed that defied its massive frame, Nidhogg cut them off. He loomed over them, his claws within easy reaching distance.
Despair crashed over them.
Are we going to be caught? Are we going to be the reason our son gets hurt? If our existence is going to lead to Issei's downfall, then it would be better if we—
Just as that dark thought crossed Gorou's mind, a sharp whistle sliced through the air.
A single sword slammed into the ground between the parents and the dragon. Instantly, a shimmering, dome-like barrier erupted from the blade, repelling Nidhogg's reaching hand.
Nidhogg tilted his head, confused by the sudden interference.
Then, a voice rang out—cool and resolute.
"I think not."
It was a woman's voice.
Before Nidhogg could even turn toward it, a silver flash of light carved a deep, horizontal gash across his snout, slicing through his iron-hard scales.
"G-Gwah?! What was that?!"
Nidhogg leaped back, his yellow eyes darting around until they settled on the newcomer.
"I will not let you lay a finger on them."
Standing there was a woman with violet hair tied back in a sharp ponytail. In her hands, she gripped a spear and a twin set of blades.
Gorou blinked, his voice trembling. "Diarmuid…-san?"
"Forgive me for my tardiness," she said, her eyes fixed on the dragon. "I had a foul premonition, and it seems my instincts were correct. Master's Father, Master's Mother—please, do not leave the protection of that sword."
Begallta.
The second of Diarmuid's enchanted swords. It possessed the power to cast a protective ward over a fixed area, acting as an absolute shield.
Diarmuid stepped in front of the couple, her gaze narrowing at Nidhogg.
"The 'Abyssal Rage Dragon,' Nidhogg. A puppet of Rizevim Livan Lucifer. If you value your life, withdraw. You will not touch them while I draw breath."
"Hah? Who the hell are you? Their daughter or somethin'?"
"...Daughter?" Diarmuid let out a small, self-deprecating smile. "A word far too precious for someone like me."
Nidhogg snapped his fingers. Suddenly, thirty magic circles erupted in the air around them. From the shimmering light, a horde of mass-produced Evil Dragons emerged.
But these weren't just any fodder.
"Guhehe! Mass-produced Grendels! The Lucifer kid told me not to use 'em too much, but for a pest like you, I reckon this is just fine!"
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