Kokabiel watched as Draconis finished off his last collaborator, laughter spilling from his lips.
"Fascinating! Nothing beats a good fight. But don't get ahead of yourselves—this was just the opening act."
He rose from his throne in the sky, descending slowly until his polished black shoes touched the ground. Dressed in a sleek black suit, Kokabiel looked almost human—if you ignored the blood-red eyes radiating pure malice.
Boom!
Lightning forked down from the heavens, golden bolts lancing straight at him. Kokabiel barely twitched. His obsidian wings unfurled, divine power flaring, and the thunder vanished—erased as if it had never been.
"Don't waste my time, Baraqiel's little lightning bug," he sneered.
"Don't compare me to him!" Akeno's voice trembled with fury.
Draconis's duplicate, still shielding Akeno with the Divine Lament Shield, caught the exchange. Baraqiel—a fallen angel renowned as "the Thunderbolt," rumored to rival even Azazel, the Governor-General. Was that Akeno's father?
Draconis glanced at her, the pieces falling into place.
Kokabiel ignored the warning, grinning wider. "Rias Gremory, your Peerage is a circus—giant nekomata, a saint who heals angels and devils, Baraqiel's daughter, and a freak who splits himself in two."
He ticked off each name, laughter bubbling up. "Just like your brother—always collecting monsters!"
Rias's eyes flashed. "Insult my brother, slander a Demon King, and mock my servants? You deserve to die!"
Kokabiel's smile sharpened. "Oh? So kill me, then. Demon King's little sister—your old nemesis stands before you. Are you really going to let this chance slip away?"
Rias snapped. Magic blazed, a crimson circle spinning into existence. Flames roared forth, a dragon of fire scorching the air.
Kokabiel's grin never wavered. He conjured a sword of light, swinging it in a single, casual arc.
Whoosh!
The fire dragon—immaterial, but mighty—split in two, its flames dissipating harmlessly. Kokabiel stood untouched.
Draconis and Xenovia lunged, swords flashing. Regalia Blade and Durandal crackled with power as they struck from both sides.
Clang!
Kokabiel blocked Durandal with his light sword, conjuring a second blade to parry Regalia Blade. He barely seemed to notice their combined assault.
Above, Koneko dropped from the sky, aiming for Kokabiel's unguarded flank. But she underestimated him. His ten black wings snapped open, feathers hardening into blades that sliced through the air in a blur.
Koneko was caught mid-leap, unable to dodge. The blades struck, sending her tumbling, blood streaming from fresh wounds.
"Koneko!" Draconis's duplicate darted forward, catching her, but the force drove them both back. He gripped her hand, channeling magic to heal, while Asia rushed in, Sacred Gear glowing as she joined the effort.
"I'm sorry…" Koneko whispered, guilt clouding her eyes.
"Don't apologize. This isn't your fault," Draconis said softly, pouring more magic into her wounds. With Asia's help, Koneko's bleeding slowed, her breathing steadied.
Meanwhile, Draconis and Xenovia faced Kokabiel head-on, bearing the brunt of his power. Even at close range, he was absurdly strong.
Bang!
A heavy blow sent both of them flying. Kokabiel's strength was beyond anything a high-class devil could muster.
Xenovia twisted midair, desperately trying to regain her footing—but Kokabiel was on her in an instant, sending her sprawling with another sword strike.
He laughed, dark and triumphant. "Your master is gone, yet here you are—devils and God's followers, still fighting. How quaint."
His words hung in the air, confusing everyone.
"…What do you mean?" Xenovia asked, shaken.
Kokabiel paused, then smirked. "Oops, did I let something slip?"
He cocked his head, eyes gleaming with wicked delight. "Well, since the masks are off, why bother keeping secrets? Let me enlighten you!"
He spread his arms, voice dripping with mockery. "During the last Great War, aside from the four original Demon Kings, your God—He died. Completely. Hahaha!"
The revelation crashed over the group like thunder. Rias and the others stared, stunned, disbelief etched on their faces.
Draconis barely reacted. Gods and Demon Kings meant little to him. A god who could die? What kind of god was that—just another powerful being, nothing more.
Still, the message was clear: With enough strength, even gods could fall.
But Asia and Xenovia were devastated. Both had been devout believers.
Asia, even as a devil, clung to her faith—a rare, precious thing. Now, that faith was shattered.
Xenovia's shoulders sagged. Her sword slipped from her grasp as she sank to her knees.
"If God is dead… then what was the love and power He gave us? What does any of this mean?"
Silence. The world felt emptier than before.
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