A trivial matter for the fallen angels in Kuoh Town had turned into a living nightmare. Plans, nurtured with cold calculation, shattered to pieces against an insurmountable force that had appeared from nowhere. Pain, humiliation, and bone-chilling fear—this was their lot instead of triumph. The darkness, their usual element, now seemed hostile, hiding in its shadows the image of the one who had dared to challenge their order.
Raynare flew, fighting through hellish pain. Every flap of her intact wing sent an agonizing echo through the broken bone of the other. The world blurred before her eyes from tears—tears of rage, humiliation, and panic. That… bastard… he dared! He dared to touch her, Raynare, one of the chosen, a servant of Kokabiel! He had broken her wing as easily as one snaps a dry twig!
'Monster… A monster…' it hammered in her temples. His power was unnatural, wrong. It didn't obey the laws of this world. Holy energy, their primary weapon against demons, had simply… evaporated on contact with him. His fists carried a might capable of crushing stone and bone with equal ease. And his eyes… those cold, violet eyes, which held not a drop of fear or doubt, only a strange contempt… They haunted her even now, in the dark sky.
He had let her go. Just let her go, like a tired toy. Told her to crawl back to Kokabiel. It was more humiliating than any blow. He hadn't even deemed her worthy of killing. Just broke her and threw her away.
'Kokabiel… Oh, Great Kokabiel… what will he say?' The thought of reporting to her master brought a new wave of sickening fear, one that overshadowed even the physical pain. A failure. A complete failure. The worthless demon wielder of the Red Dragon was alive. The nun with Twilight Healing was lost. And she, Raynare, was maimed and disgraced by an unknown monster. Kokabiel did not forgive failure. He valued only strength and results. And she had brought neither.
Struggling to get her bearings, she flew toward the designated rendezvous point—an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts, where they had set up a temporary safehouse. She had to find the others. Dohnaseek, Mittelt… Kalawarner… What about them? Had he gotten to them too?
...
Kalawarner sat on a dusty crate, wincing from the pain in her ribs. That blond bastard had only hit her once, but the blow had been so powerful that she could still feel her bones creak with every breath. She had seen how he'd dealt with Dohnaseek and Mittelt at the church—easily, playfully, as if crushing insects. She had managed to get away while he was busy with the nun, but fear held her heart in an icy grip.
Who was he? Not a demon, not an angel, and definitely not human… His power was absurd, impossible. He simply ignored their holy energy, their main advantage. He moved at inhuman speed, struck with devastating power. And through it all… he'd seemed bored. As if the whole fight was just an annoying distraction.
The warehouse door creaked open, and Raynare appeared in the opening. Kalawarner flinched, seeing her condition. One wing hung limp, caked in dried blood; her face was pale, twisted in pain and horror.
"Raynare! What happened to you?!" Kalawarner jumped up, forgetting her own ribs.
Raynare collapsed onto a nearby crate, breathing heavily.
"He… that monster… he broke my wing…" she whispered, her voice trembling.
"The blond one?" Kalawarner asked, a chill running down her. "He got to you, too?"
Raynare nodded, staring into the void with hatred.
"He came out of nowhere… Protected that damn nun… He tossed Dohnaseek and Mittelt aside like puppies… And then… he just… broke me…"
She fell silent, wracked with soundless sobs. Kalawarner moved closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. She understood her terror. She had felt it herself.
"Where are the others?" Kalawarner asked, scanning the empty warehouse. "Dohnaseek? Mittelt?"
"One was unconscious by the church," Raynare rasped. "The other… he just… threw him aside like trash… Maybe they're alive… maybe not… That bastard… he wasn't even trying to kill them… He was playing with us!"
A groan came from a dark corner of the warehouse. It was Dohnaseek. He was sitting slumped against the wall, clutching his head. It seemed he had come to and somehow managed to drag himself here. He looked no better than Raynare—his face bruised, his clothes torn.
"I… I saw everything…" he muttered weakly. "That power… it's not of this world… He… he was just laughing at us…"
Three fallen angels. Three elite warriors, sent on an important mission. And all three—broken, humiliated, and scared to death by a single opponent, whose nature remained a mystery to them.
"We… we have to report to Lord Kokabiel," Raynare managed to say, trying to pull herself together. The fear of her master was stronger than the pain and humiliation.
Kalawarner nodded, pulling a small communication crystal from the folds of her clothes. It glowed dimly in her hand.
"Let's do it… before he changes his mind and comes here to finish us off…"
The crystal vibrated, and a hazy image appeared above it. Kokabiel's face. Sharp, predatory features, eyes burning with the cold fire of fanaticism and contempt. Even through the magical connection, his aura was oppressive, making the fallen cringe.
"Report," Kokabiel's voice was devoid of emotion, but that impassivity held a threat more terrifying than any scream.
Raynare swallowed, trying to stop her voice from shaking.
"Lord Kokabiel… The mission… is a failure…"
Not a single muscle twitched on Kokabiel's face. But the air around the crystal seemed to drop several degrees.
"A failure?" he repeated quietly. "Explain. And you had better have a very good reason for your incompetence."
Stammering, interrupting each other, Raynare and Kalawarner told him everything. About how the demon wielder of the Boosted Gear had been under the protection of the nun with Twilight Healing. About how they had almost captured her, but then he appeared. The blond monster with violet eyes. Incredibly strong, incredibly fast. The one who had toyed with them, broken Raynare's wing, ignored holy power. The one who knew Kokabiel's name and sent him "regards." The one who let them go, like useless trash.
"He… he's not human, Lord," Raynare finished, her voice breaking. "And not a demon… Not an angel… His power… it's wrong… It just… crushes everything…"
Kokabiel listened in silence, his eyes narrowed. When they were finished, he was quiet for several seconds, and that silence was worse than any rage.
"So," he finally said, his voice laced with ice, "you, three of my best warriors, couldn't handle one rookie demon and one nun? And you were defeated by some unknown upstart?"
"Lord, he… he was unbelievably strong!" Kalawarner pleaded. "We couldn't do anything! Our holy power was useless!"
"Useless?" Kokabiel smirked, but there was no humor in it. "Or is it you who are useless? You lost the Red Dragon. You lost Twilight Healing, which will now undoubtedly fall into the hands of that Gremory brat! And you allowed some unknown spawn to humiliate you and send me 'regards'?"
His voice rose, ringing with fury.
"You are a disgrace! A disgrace to the Grigori! A disgrace to me! Your weakness is disgusting!"
Raynare, Kalawarner, and Dohnaseek cowered under his anger, not daring to look up. They knew what was coming.
"This blond one…" Kokabiel lowered his voice again, a thoughtful curiosity creeping in. "Power that ignores holy energy… Physical might that breaks the bones of fallen angels… Interesting… Very interesting… Perhaps a new player on the board. Or an old one we've forgotten. This bears investigation."
He looked at the trio with contempt again.
"But this does not excuse your fiasco. You have failed a key part of my plan. Rias Gremory has now acquired both the wielder of the Boosted Gear and Twilight Healing. This complicates my next steps considerably."
"Lord, we… we will atone…" Raynare began.
"Silence!" Kokabiel roared. "Your time for atonement is past. You are useless. Return to base. Immediately. You will face… disciplinary action. And pray that I am in a good mood when you stand before me. Though, looking at you, I find that hard to believe."
Kokabiel's image vanished, and the crystal went dark.
The three fallen were left sitting in the oppressive silence of the abandoned warehouse. The air was heavy with fear and despair. "Disciplinary action" from Kokabiel could mean anything from brutal torture to a slow, agonizing death.
Raynare covered her face with her hands. Her broken wing throbbed with pain, but the mental anguish was worse. Her pride was shattered. Her future, uncertain and terrifying. And all because of one blond monster who had appeared from nowhere and ruined everything.
Kalawarner trembled, wrapping her arms around herself. The image of Jin, his cold eyes, his inhuman strength—it was all she could see. She realized they had run into something far beyond their understanding of the world. And it terrified her to her core.
DohnaseIK just sat, staring at the wall with a vacant gaze. He was broken. Not so much physically as mentally.
Their mission had failed. Their pride was crushed. Their master was furious. And somewhere out there, in the night city, walked the one who had caused their fall. The one whose name they didn't even know for sure. Izayoi. An enigma. A threat. And, perhaps, the herald of something far worse than the war Kokabiel so craved. For the fallen angels, the night was just beginning. And it promised to be long and full of terror.