Kokabiel had truly lost his mind to rage.
Moments ago, he'd been riding high—convinced no one here could rival him, that everything was under his control. Then Draconis showed up and shattered that illusion with a single, merciless blow.
No one could've predicted this. Up until now, Draconis was just some middling devil—barely worth a second glance. Kokabiel had thought he could crush him with a flick of his finger.
Who'd have guessed this kid was hiding such terrifying power? Draconis wasn't just strong—he was a monster.
Now, panic was setting in. Kokabiel's botched divine art had backfired, leaving his own power in chaos and making him feel sick enough to spit blood.
Draconis pressed his advantage, step by relentless step. He was impossibly calm, controlling the battlefield with iron precision. Even as time ticked away, he stayed cool, whittling down Kokabiel's defenses bit by bit—waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
All he needed was one opening for the kill.
High above, two figures watched the chaos unfold—a white-haired youth floating effortlessly beside a man.
"Azazel, looks like I won't need to step in after all," the youth said quietly.
He hovered in midair, unbothered by the spectacle below. Standing with him was none other than Azazel, Governor of the Fallen Angels.
Azazel's eyes sparkled with interest as he studied the ancient city looming overhead. "Don't be so quick, Vali. Let's see how this plays out. That kid's a real wild card—I'm dying to know if he can actually take down that idiot."
Vali's gaze was steady, his voice cool. "Trying to cast a divine art at the wrong moment—he's already lost. That kid's Sacred Gear is no joke. It's easily on par with my Divine Dividing. We're talking Longinus class."
Azazel chuckled. "I can see that. That gear's insane—he's been untouchable for ages. And that city in the sky… What does it actually do? I've been waiting to find out."
Vali shook his head, a hint of battle lust flickering in his eyes. "Give it up. With his current strength, he can't unlock the city's true potential yet."
He stared up at the looming citadel, imagining the day Draconis would reach his full power. When that happened, Vali couldn't wait to test himself against him.
Azazel sighed, a little disappointed. "If only the kid was a bit stronger—we'd finally see what that ancient city's really capable of. The suspense is killing me…"
Vali's eyes narrowed. "It's almost over. He's gathering power…"
Back inside the barrier, Kokabiel was starting to lose it.
"You—damn it! Fine, I admit you're stronger right now!" he spat, barely holding back his rage as he scrambled to block Draconis's attacks.
"A powerhouse like you shouldn't waste your talent as someone else's lapdog! Why not join me, rise up, and crush those fools? Anything you want could be yours!"
Draconis's reply was flat. "Is that so? And what exactly do you have to offer?"
"With our strength combined, there's nothing you couldn't have—why settle for being someone's servant?"
Kokabiel pressed his pitch, sensing Draconis might be wavering. Rias and the others tensed, alarmed.
"Don't listen to him!" Rias snapped. "He's a snake—don't trust a word!"
Draconis nearly laughed. As if he'd fall for that.
"You're joking, right? Tempting a devil? Manipulating people is our specialty—we invented the game."
He paused, a sly smile curling his lips.
"And besides, why would you think I'm beneath anyone? I'm on top of Rias every night, you know. Being her servant suits me just fine."
Kokabiel: "…??"
Rias: "…??"
Everyone: "Uh…??"
For a moment, the battlefield froze—every jaw hanging open.
Rias snapped out of it, her face blazing red.
Draconis didn't miss a beat. While Kokabiel was still reeling, he unleashed the magic he'd been stockpiling.
Hummmm—
A tidal wave of demonic power surged from Draconis, warping the very air around him. Space itself twisted as his aura reached monstrous levels.
Kokabiel's eyes went wide. He could feel death closing in.
Draconis's Regalia Blade erupted with a blinding purple-black light, shooting skyward.
He'd killed fallen angels with this sword before, but now—now, he was on a whole different level. This attack was beyond anything imaginable.
Even Rias and the others felt the pressure—crushing, suffocating. Kokabiel felt it worst of all; the force locked him in place, pinning him like an insect under glass.
What was this power?
Draconis's golden eyes blazed, and in that instant, new knowledge unlocked in his mind—a sword technique, buried deep within the Regalia Blade.
He understood it instantly. Majesty radiated from the blade, as if the ancient monarch himself were passing judgment.
The move's name came to him:
Judgment of the Monarch.
Draconis poured every last drop of magic into the attack.
Judgment descended—unstoppable, inescapable—straight for Kokabiel.
Am I really going to die here?
The thought flashed through Kokabiel's mind as he went berserk, hurling every scrap of divine power he had to block the strike.
Judgment hit home.
Blinding light flooded the battlefield. For a moment, all anyone could see was white—buildings vaporized, the world erased by the sword's fury.
Crack!
The barrier shattered. Sona and her team coughed up blood, battered by the shockwave.
For ten long seconds, magic rampaged unchecked. When the light faded, everyone stared in disbelief—half of Kuoh Academy was gone, and the mountains outside had been flattened.
If Draconis had aimed at the city, there'd be nothing left.
…Awkward.
Even Draconis hadn't expected that kind of devastation.
"Cough…"
A weak sound broke the silence—Kokabiel, somehow still alive. He managed a final groan, spat blood, and collapsed, unconscious.
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