||Rending Storm||

Chapter XIX

Seven Archangels gathered in their designated meeting room. A quaint room that had held many important discussions and perhaps many to come. A room that housed a large table made of gold, and a set of chairs made from the purest silver.

Normally, a period of quietness would come when the final decision was about to be made, but the discussion had barely set afoot, let alone reached a decision. All faces were grim. The light of their white wings seemingly fading its brightness except for Gabriel's twelve golden wings. Radiant as ever like their owner.

"So it is confirmed?" The silence spell broke after Sariel had amassed enough courage to ask the question whose answer they all dreaded. "Our... brother has somehow returned from the dead?"

"Father once told us no one can escape the finality that is death. Not even Father Himself." Uriel voiced his concern. It was a cruel fact, but it must be said. "He had remained dead for a thousand years and more. How could he?"

"Escaped death's grasp, and destroyed the Sepulcher no less." Ariel reminded, disturbed by this fact likewise his five brothers. "He's not less powerful than he was my brothers. The devils are a shadow of what they once were, but they outnumber us three-to-one. He needs to be stopped before he conjures another rebellion."

"If he starts another, I fear the demise of the Kingdom could be near." Raguel agreed. "We must stop him before he has an army to lead."

"And for what reason will he lead that army?" The Archangel of Wisdom intervened calmly. "The first rebellion was due to Hell's inhabitable state. You are allowed to be wary of him, but don't forget our brother waged a war for his people. The Underworld is filled with riches now that it had been blessed by our Father. There's a considerable chance he won't stir a revolt."

"Chance?" Ariel said mockingly, "Since when do we rely on chance, brother?"

"Since it brings a viable option."

"And that option is to sit and do nothing yet again?" Raguel raised his voice, his silver armor reflecting the golden table as he turned to their leader who sat right at the end, visibly weighing the options. Next to him was their only sister, ever so innocent and confused by their raised voices. Yet her comfort was the second of their worries.

"My brothers, my leader, we've sent a Watcher and she nearly died in her duty for mentioning us as his brother. It's clear that he no longer sees us as his brothers. A violent man like him is not to be trusted and deserves a just retribution for his crime."

Raphael's golden robe swayed as he shifted on his chair. "Should a man be held to a crime he committed a thousand years ago? Did he not pay it with his death?"

"He brought death upon our brothers and our sisters." Ariel reminded with barely contained fury.

"And we have brought the same to his people." Uriel stated. "Both sides have suffered. Our peace has lasted a thousand years and those who have fought then have been buried. What need have we for another war?"

"We don't." Sariel chimed. "But he was dead during that thousand years. Now he is alive."

"I agree." The Archangel of War upheld the youngest Archangel. "What we require is to stop him from brewing a war. His leadership united the residents of Hell, and through unity comes great strength. With the absence of our Father, The Kingdom of Heaven will never be safe as long as he's alive."

As Raziel typed down everything that was spoken in the last minutes into his golden laptop, silence finally fell in the room as all eyes looked at the golden-haired Archangel with anxiety and wonder. Michael closed his eyes in his quiet deliberation, and all the Archangels waited.

"We... have yet to determine his motive, correct?" The keys of Raziel's laptop worked silently as Michael spoke. The Archangels nodded collectively. "Then I will speak to him."

"WHAT?!" Ariel's voice boomed through the shiny room. "Brother, you mustn't!"

"No. I must." Michael spoke with finality. "This way we can stop speculating and not gamble risking a war. It's the most peaceful way. Isn't that what we seek? Peace? Or is it blood that you wish to draw?"

The Archangels gingerly made themselves busy then. Ariel pretended his golden armor had a tiny speck on it and was brushing it with his golden finger. Raguel took the knock to his honor gracefully. Sariel slunk his thin figure a bit deeper to his seat. Both Uriel and Raphael were the only Archangels to be pleased by the suggestion.

"Any disagreement? Say it now or never." No one spoke a word. "Very well then..." Michael continued softly. "This must remain among us and among us only, until there is the need for every resident of Heaven to learn of his return. I thank you for the meeting, my brothers, you all may leave."

After the common courtesies of goodbyes, the five Archangels along with Seraph Raziel vanished in a light, leaving him only with his sister.

"...Is this the same brother you spoke of, brother?"

Michael guiltily straightened his sitting position. Somehow, the comfiest chair in Heaven didn't bring any comfort when he was faced with his sister's doe eyes. He wished he didn't end the meeting just yet now.

"Yes..." The de facto leader of Heaven admitted. "He is... or was, our brother, Gabriel."

"Was...?

"It's..." Michael sighed. "It's a long story. One I doubt you would like to hear... or rather, re-experience."

Break

One of Sirzechs' peeves of being a "Great Satan" of the Underworld Empire, would be having to report every little thing that occurred in his jurisdiction to the High Council; a council consisted of the heads of the remaining Pillars except those who were related to the Great Satans. Unfortunately, it was also one of his duties.

So as a dutiful Devil loyal to the empire, what else could he do but serve? And perhaps, lament in silence among the ensuing chaos of an assembly he had hoped to be peaceful. Having to stand behind a wooden stand in the center of the auditorium made him feel like a felon rather than a Satan.

"Are you mad?!" One of the house head shouted, "HE was the leader of the rebellion he himself started!"

"Which is why we should bring him as one of ours." Another said calmly.

"And let him reignite the war?!" And another rebuked.

"That's preposterous; give us a hundred years' time and our numbers won't near a hundred thousand." A Lord uttered.

"What about the Reincarnated Devils?"

"Bah! You're quite the joker aren't you, Lord Furcas? Perhaps we should let them lead our army as well?"

"If what he said is true," Lady Paimon made her voice heard; light and calm yet pierced through the noises. "a decision must be reached. Quarrelling like a pack of hyenas won't bring us any closer, gentlemen. Is it too much for a lady to ask order in this court?"

Sirzechs barely stifled his smile from arising as several High Councils lowered their head in shame, some whispering a grumble under their breath, including Lord Bael. Lady Paimon wasn't much older than him - in fact, she fought beside him at the Civil War despite her House supported the Old-Satan faction. After the war, she was then made Head of her House as the sole surviving member. The Last Paimon as well as her family's Kinslayer. It wasn't a wonder why she was upheld with such respect, most of the times fear.

He couldn't help but regard her with the same. Her scarlet hair did play a part. She reminded him of his little sister to a certain degree.

As the noises were reduced to silence, she waved her feathery fan. "Well then. If you could please, my dear, show us why you believe this man you spoke of is the First."

"Thank you, my lady." Receiving a nod from her and regaining the attention of the audiences, Sirzechs continued his report. "During my sister's first Rating Game, I had the opportunity to meet this man in person. I saw him conjure Power of Destruction as if it was a basic spell."

Numerous Lords started to bicker at that piece of information.

"I don't believe it is learnable ability except by those with the blood of Bael."

"It's not learnable, it's inherited." Lord Bael corrected firmly, somewhat ticked off. Then again, the man always seemed to be bitter about everything. Sirzechs oftentimes wondered how different he was compared to his father.

"Ah, I apologize for my mistake, my lord." Sirzechs bowed his head. He supposed, the fruit sometimes tumbled away from the tree.

"You'll do well to remember it the next time, Young Hero." Lord Bael said with scorn; a tone Sirzechs had gotten used to hear. "Power of Destruction is the pride of my blood. My family's heritage. You must have mistaken it as another magic, boy."

That condescending tone too. Sirzechs had gotten so used to it that it went in his left ear and exited through the other one as soon as it entered.

"Pardon me, my lord, but as one of the ability's possessors myself, I doubt I'd mistake it for something else. Power of Destruction, is, as the name suggest, a rather destructive power." That earned him a round of chuckle. "It took me years to finally sustain one without obliterating a training mannequin and then receiving an earful from my dear mother."

Another round of chuckles ensued.

"Yet, this man possesses the control and the precision to just obliterate a glass bottle." The chuckles died.

Sirzechs looked upon the High Councils as if he was gazing into their eyes. "My Lords, my Ladies. You have entrusted me as one of the Four Great Satans and for many years I have proven my loyalty and I have done my duties. I would have never asked for an audience if the matter at hand was irrelevant to the Realm. While I can't confirm the identity of this man, I do believe he is the First Devil, and so does my family."

As the noises of discussions began to rise, Lord Bael was quick to diminish the discussions. "So. You're saying that this meeting is held based on your family's beliefs? You are impressed by a man who managed to disintegrate a flask?"

Sirzechs kept his calm. "Perhaps I should have waited. But do we have the time? My lord, with all due respect, this man is the same man who discovered the Norse spy. This spy had spent months under our territory undetected, and he uncloaked them the very day they met."

"Is this the same woman who has become your sister's Bishop?" Lord Phenex asked.

"Yes." Sirzechs replied. "Not only did he uncover her, he is the reason behind the sudden increase of discovered infiltrators. I can assure you my Lords, his best interest is the Devils. It would be wise to bring him into our ranks before our foes do."

The murmurs started again, and Sirzechs smiled confidently.

Until Lord Bael shattered that confidence. "I don't recall you being delegated to give counsel to the Council. You've done your part; let us do ours. You're dismissed."

As tough as it was to swallow, Sirzechs bowed himself as he walked out of the auditorium, unaware that he was being surveyed by a pair of crimson eyes.

The moment he walked out the very expensive and overtly decorated door and shut it, he had never wanted to scream his frustrations this bad. Who knew that even being a Great Satan couldn't save him from being humiliated. Who knew that even as a Great Satan, there were things kept hidden from him.

Break

Staring out the window of his bedroom, Zekram Bael let his mind relax while his eyes feasted on the beauty that was the Underworld. Once red and filthy, now green and prosper. The rolling hills were a patchwork of green made darker by the Dark Sun's glare. They were every hue of spring grass to deep forest pools. Apple trees blooming here and there. He could spot the distinctive red fruit in the distance.

There weren't many travelers, but that was how he liked his peace. Undisturbed, tranquil, and free from those bickerers who liked to drink wine and mock other families that weren't their own.

Which was why Zekram made a face when he sensed a sudden surge of magic booming in front of his residence. If his servants were wise, they'd shoo whoever it was unless they came with great urgency.

Not long after, there was a knock at his door.

And then his loud groan. "If you're not my daughter or my son or their children or without a pie that isn't made of apple; nobody's here." Yet the door swung open anyway, taking another of his sigh with it. "What is it now?"

As he swiveled on his boots, turning around to face this guest of his, who was a beautiful young lady with scarlet hair and dress, a mild amiable surprise filled his face.

"Ah. If it isn't Lore." He addressed the woman with a genial smile. "Come in, come in."

"Your Grace." She bobbed a curtsy, "I'm afraid I didn't bring any pie with me."

"No, no. Don't mind it all. Just one of my jests." Zekram chuckled as the lady in red entered, shuffling past his simple room. "Would you stay for some tea and pie?"

"I'm afraid not my lord. I do not plan to stay for long."

"Hah. You young Devils are always busy." The First Head of Bael sat down on a chair next to a small table where he normally dined. The table at the dining room was too big for one man to eat alone. "Is that why neither you nor Sirzechs has an heir yet?"

He might be thousands of years old, but his eyes never fail to catch a glimpse of a lady's blushing cheeks. Including the renowned Lady Paimon herself, one of which she desperately tried to hide with her regal composure and reply.

"I am not speaking on his behalf, but I would think we both agree there is no strength found in love."

Even he didn't expect that cynical response. "How so very sceptic. Are you telling me it was wrong of me and plenty others to extend our legacy?

Lady Paimon didn't know how to respond. "I-I... I didn't mean it that way, my King..."

"It was a jest, my dear." Zekram apologized as he laughed, directing his hand to another seat. "Please. Sit."

"There's no need." Lady Paimon politely declined.

He placed his elbows onto the table as he leaned forward, his fingers brushing his well-kept black beard. "Very well then. Why did you disturb me?"

"There was an assembly, not long ago." She began, her look and tone serious. "Satan Sirzechs mentioned a subject that I thought would interest you, my lord."

"Still reluctant to call him as Lucifer I see." All Paimon had always been loyal to their old master.

"He's a Gremory." Unfortunately, her loyalty was reserved to a man who was no longer here.

Zekram edged on his seat, straightening the topic before it went off road. "What subject?"

"The possible return of Lord Lucifer."

Break

Lord Lucifer was fondling the voluminous breasts of Rias Gremory in his afternoon nap. In his dreams, he was feeling these delightful meat buns as well.

"Mnnh..." On the other hand – or rather, in his hands – the owner of said breasts had already opened her eyes minutes ago. Being caressed by her unconscious lover, she could only stifle the sound of her enjoyment so much from leaking. "Lucifer..."

Albeit tucked in a cozy sheet of warmth and with his chest warming her back, Rias needed to go. She didn't mind, really. When he's asleep, she could listen to the sound of his soft snores, or play with his tousle of brown hair, or trace the grainy stubbles of his jaw with her fingers, but she had to go.

She muttered a quiet apology as she lifted his arm that was draped over hers. But it caused Lucifer to squeezed her breast instead.

"Kyaahn-!"

"Hm? What?"

As the girl in his hold squirmed around, Lucifer drew his arm as he sat up in confusion. He barely garnered enough life and senses as he saw a curtain of crimson waltzing away like a blur. Rias' hair, he told himself, as he glanced to his right and found the girl was nowhere on the bed.

Then he heard the sound of flushing water in the bathroom, and the rainwater spattering against the window.

Afternoon naps should refresh him. But he didn't feel refreshed at all. Grumpily, he searched the dim-lit room for the clock, and grumped a bit more. An hour of napping was not his definition proper napping in his dictionary.

With a yawn, Lucifer plopped his head on his pillow, looking at the ceiling. The inside of his mind as blank as his stare. He rested his brown eyes, squinting as he let off another groan. It was a heavy rain, and he didn't particularly like heavy rains. Too noisy. It would be a miracle if he was to get another round of sleep. And the last time a miracle happened, he died.

Hearing a door clicking open, his eyes flickered as he glanced past the velvety blanket.

"Cold~!" so declared a naked Rias as she then scampered to join him. Lucifer spread his arms and the blanket, offering safety and warmth which she gladly accepted by leaping to him, full of giggles.

As he wrapped her in his arm and the duvet, Lucifer sniggered. "That's why you should put on something when you sleep."

Pressing her ear and her face, Rias felt his chest purr as he spoke. She also heard the slight rasp in his voice. It was strangely sensual to her ears.

"...You sound vulgar."

Lucifer quirked a mocking eyebrow. "Oh I sound vulgar. If I recall correctly, Princess, your sighs drowned my voice as well as the shower's."

Her cheeks warmed. "W-well... why weren't you as loud?"

"I'd rather hear your voice rather than mine when we're loving each other."

Her cheeks felt warmer. The same warmth started to embalm her body as Rias splayed her hands over his broad chest, outlining its muscles, feeling its strength and softness.

"Mhmmhmm- that tickles."

Hearing his gentle laughter, she swallowed nervously. Timidly, she pulled her head to where she could meet his eyes by looking up.

Several silent seconds ticked past as Rias fell into his gentle brown eyes,her heart thudding in her ears. She was like the helpless girl she was the night she met him.

"What?" Lucifer scrunched his sly brows, smiling a playful smirk. "Something on my face?"

"...Nothing." She replied with a soft smile. Her smile grew timid as Lucifer ran a hand along her back and down to her bouncy derriere. She realized that mischievous look far too late as she squealed from him pinching her rump. "Yah!"

"Lucifer!"

"I'm sorry Princess."

"No you're not." Rias pouted, shooting a betrayed look coupled with pouty lips.

"Touché." He cocked his head, his cocky grin spreading. "According to my scenario, this is where you'll forgive me and then give me a kiss."

She couldn't even keep up at being fake-upset at him. Maybe she was a helpless girl after all. With breathy giggles, Rias slowly scooted up so they were eye-to-eye, and leaned into him as she shut her eyes.

Only to open them again as her bedroom door was knocked repeatedly.

Lucifer was equally annoyed. "Are we expecting a guest? When do we ever expected a guest?"

"I guess this wasn't written in your scenario." Sighed Rias, but that made him snort. Unwillingly, the Gremory heiress slipped off his embrace and their bed. "A moment!" She yelled loud enough to whoever was outside. "That might be Asia. She is staying here for the night. Maybe more."

"Here? Right here? That poor girl." Lucifer made a face as Rias browsed her dresser. Somehow, the cold didn't bother her anymore.

"Not in this room, Lucifer. She'll stay at the next room." Rias frowned as she flicked a light switch.

"GAH! I have been blinded by my lover!"

Giggling at his silly act, Rias grabbed a pink nightgown that wasn't transparent and slipped into it.

The Devil watched with amusement as her head popped out. But what took the spotlight was when she placed her hands under her hair and—splash. Her crimson locks draped down so beautifully, swaying as she made her way to the door.

"Bless you and your long hair."

Rias didn't hear what he said, but she did hear the repeated knockings that was grating her patience. "Coming!"

"Yes?" As she tugged the wooden door, she scrunched her eyebrows as she squinted her eyes, trying to recall name of the two people standing before her. One was a bearded black-haired man on his late forties, his tall, lean and broad-shouldered figure seized by a plain white noble attire that was impossible for her to mistake after the many upper-class Devils gatherings she had attended. Standing a step behind him was a young lady appearing to be sharing the same age as her.

Rias first recognized who the middle-aged man was as she met his peaceful violet eyes; the same color with her mother's.

"Grandf—K-King Bael!"

An expression of joy lit the creases of the face of Zekram Bael. "You've grown into a fine young lady." The proud grandfather said happily. "You remind me of your mother. Do refrain from calling you grandfather that stiffly title in the future dear."

"I-I'm sorry." Rias stammered, almost stumbling backwards as her widened eyes shifted to the woman to her left. The lady was clad in a striking red and golden dress with a furred golden mantle hugging her shoulders. Scarlet and gold, the Paimon colors. She exuded an air of dignity with the poised gaze of her scarlet eyes and hair that was adorned with two beastly horns, one for each side of her hair.

Again, surprise filled her eyes as she recognized the Scarlet Fiend. "Lady Paimon!"

Rias had often heard tales of her beauty, and now she learned it wasn't exaggerated. Her scarlet eyelashes were so long and lush that made Rias envious.

"Lorelei Paimon. How do you do." The Paimon nodded her head courteously, introducing with her name she chose rather than what her father gave her. She smiled, but her smile didn't reach her eyes. The cold smile of a Paimon. Not one as cold as her head maid, Rias surmised.

"It-it's an honor. I uh..." Consciously, her hand moved to cover her cleavage as she felt a blush creeping in her face. Rias knew how to perform all the right gestures of politeness, but it was rather hard for her to remember any at the time when she was only wearing a nightgown. "I um... I was expecting someone else... I-is it alright if I change first...?"

"Oh there's no need." Zekram said, "Seeing you is an amiable sight for my aged eyes. A sight for sore eyes indeed, but grandfather is here for someone else."

"Someone else?" Rias repeated. Then came a voice that bore the British accent.

"Is it just me or did the nun used to have a much lighter voice rather than that of a man?"

Zekram Bael laughed heartily. "Haha! Is that the notorious lover of the Ruin Princess I hear? I've heard plenty from my daughter."

'Mom!' Rias scowled. Was her relationship something that all of Hell should know?

And there Lucifer emerged to the small hallway of her room, all in his glorious boxer briefs that hid half of his thighs and none of his unscarred, well-trained body.

"Huh. You're not Asia." Lucifer beamed as his eyes studied the adult and the young woman to his side. "Another one of your sisters, Princess?"

Rias almost fainted. She forgot her lover had little shame. "Well, um... K-King Bael, Lady Paimon... he's..."

"M-my King!" To her surprise, Great King Bael had knelt down and his eyes were glued to the red carpet of her room. "F-forgive me for intruding!"

The crimson and scarlet-haired girls both stared at each other, exchanging silent confusion, before Lady Paimon did the same gesture of respect.

"What? Oh no, no, don't you bend your knee. Up. Get up. Both of you. You will not bow before me or my green underwear."

Zekram Bael raised his head slowly, almost as if in fear. His mouth was opened and so were his eyes. "My King... Your servant is humbled by your presence..."

"Oh what is it with you Devils and formal reservations?" Lucifer grumbled exasperatedly, justly annoyed. "This is not England and we are not living in the last century. I'm no one's King and you're not my servant. Off with your customs and norms before I lose my mind."

Spoken like the one true Lucifer. The one who saw himself among his people, not above them. "Your Grace..."

Lucifer leaned a shoulder to a wall, crossing his hands. The light of the lamp hit his back, and casted a looming shadow on his face that made him sinister. The expression of annoyance was written clear on his face.

Meanwhile, Rias was downright stumped. Not every day she could witness a well-respected man clad in full royal outfit as well as a lady who was the Head of her House kneeling down to a man in his sleepwear.

"If I hear one more formal forms of address, you will ruin my day. Note that I do not like it when people ruin my day, Devils or not." For a man only in his underwear, Lucifer wasn't much less intimidating than he was several hours ago. As the memory of the earlier incident played in her mind, Rias felt cold fear blow down her spine. "Now rise. You will raise yourselves, tell me your name, and explain to me what all of this is about."

"Yes..." The First Bael rose ever so slowly, and he raised his head even slower. "Lorelei, if you may..."

Her dress shifted as Lady Paimon straightened her stature, and held Lucifer's eyes with respect. "I am Lorelei Paimon, Head of my House. I am honored to present myself before you, my Lord."

Lucifer grimaced lightly at another notion of lordness and such, but he couldn't stay mad at a scarlet beauty like her.

He was still mad, though. "A pleasure." He nodded, and the lady curtsied. "If you don't mind me asking; what's with the horns?"

She touched her ram-like horn growing on her head. "...These... These weren't my choice." She muttered, and they all could hear her sorrow. "These are the price of my past misdeeds. I apologize for this unsightliness."

"Unsightliness? Where?"

Rias began to frown.

"If there's anything good or beautiful in these horns, do please enlighten me, Lord Lucifer."

"Well." Lucifer hummed, scratching his chin. "There's you."

"I..." Lady Paimon took a moment to completely process that she was in fact, being complimented. Even Rias noticed the scarlet blush on the Scarlet Beast's cheeks. She wasn't too proud of it. "Oh my..."

"It's relieving to see you haven't changed, my Lord."

"Drop the lord before I drop you, if you please." Lucifer grumbled, and the mood was destroyed. "And you are?"

"I am Zekram Bael, First of my House, Last of the 72 Pillars. I was honored and served as Lady Asmodeus' Chosen, and fought by her side until the Great War took her life... as well as yours, Your Grace, and the rest of the Satans'. Forgive me, my Lord, for I have failed my duty..."

Lucifer embraced him like a long lost brother.

Break

The rain pattered against the roofing of their building. Idly, restlessly, Xenovia had paced the seventh lap of walking around the apartment's living room, grumbling to herself. Much to her caretaker's growing annoyance.

Although, Griselda was equally worried for her girl.

"It wasn't raining when she left," Xenovia started with a scowl, "now it's been an hour of rain. Rain and rain. How much longer will she pray for the dead? Something's not right, we should go check on her."

"There is no 'right' timetable for grieving, Xenovia." Griselda reminded, straightening her black sister veil resting on her hands. She liked to leave her hair unveiled when she had the opportunity. Now was one of such. "Have respect for the departed. The boy was her childhood friend, someone who was close to her."

Xenovia stopped her treading. "It's raining and she's somewhere mourning a gravestone!" An icy stare was enough to put the girl back on line. Due to her temperament, she often said things she didn't mean, and that was one of them. At least she was quick to realize her mistake. "...Sorry..."

"You're young. You have the time to learn how to control your temper, but you best start earlier than most."

Sullenly, the bluenette dragged her feet across the traditional Japanese mats. She slumped onto the couch next to the sister's.

"I have a bad feeling about this. My gut's telling me something's wrong."

"You're not attempting to make excuses to be outside are you?"

"H-huh? Of course not!"

"It is a sin to tell lies, Xenovia."

Xenovia swallowed the lump in her throat. If she was blessed with strength, her caretaker was blessed with that and ingenuity.

And yet...

Reluctantly, Xenovia looked into Griselda's wintry blue eyes and her golden hair often hidden by the veil. She was a famed Exorcist throughout Vatican City. A revered Sister. The beautiful woman was her idol in fact. But despite that...

"...B... Back then... could you have done something...?"

Griselda placed her veil in her lap, and clasped her hand as she looked at her errant disciple. She understood what she meant.

"I could, yes."

"...Then why didn't you?" Her voice was whispery. Very rare for her case. "Why did you let that devil humiliate you?! You're not a weak person, far from it! We could've shown those devils their mistake!"

"And what would happen then?" Her soft-spoken question pierced her chest like a sword. "I may be held reputable for my deeds expelling demons. You and Irina have your holy swords you were both trained for since you were young. Against a band of ordinary devils, we'd won. But that man is not an ordinary devil, my dear. You, Irina and I, have overcame various demons and devils, but they're nothing close compared to him."

"But-"

"Listen to me, Xenovia, and heed my words." Griselda addressed. "That man is not just a devil. He was an Archangel. The eldest and the strongest of them according to Archangel Michael himself. He has led God's army and triumphed for His name, and he has led the rebellion that took his life, but also the life of many Angels, Seraphs, and four Archangels; two of which were meant to be his replacement. He is the Devil of Pride and Wrath, dear. Resisting him would be taken as a challenge to his pride that could very well cost us our life, and end our duty here."

Xenovia's shoulders sank as she veered towards the giant broadsword resting at the corner. "...So even with an Excalibur... We couldn't beat him?"

"The true Excalibur is in pieces." Griselda sighed. "That is only one of its pieces... but even if we do have one, we're still humans. A devil has their limits but so do we, and we are far more limited than them. Perhaps even if we are blessed with a miracle."

Her disciple brooded in silence afterwards. Sullen and downhearted.

"I apologize that I can't defeat him, dear. I understand you have regarded me highly. You must be disappointed." She left her seat, bringing her veil with her but not wearing it just yet. "But know that it is my responsibility to keep you safe so the two of you can grow stronger."

"...Alright... Fine." Xenovia uttered with forced acceptance. "Then why didn't you tell us about... about that?"

"It's an order mandated by Archangel Gabriel herself, Xenovia." Griselda reasoned with a voice that rejected any arguments. "It was not meant to be shared with anyone. A failure at that," she admitted, "but now it has been confirmed. The Satan Lucifer has returned from the dead. He walks among the Devils from the Underworld Realm, and his motives unclear. Only God can help us all."

Break

As a Devil, Koneko had better vision in the dark than most, but that trait was rendered useless by the thick showers and the gloomy clouds hovering above her head. Rain fell hard on her skin like needles, yet it couldn't light a candle against the red cut across her stomach.

Because of the slippery terrain, Kiba had lost his footing and would be sure victim to the katana-shaped Excalibur if she didn't throw herself in front on him. She had crossed her hands into an x-shaped guard, but the Excalibur cut through her still.

It had been long since she experienced pain due to her Rook traits; she had forgotten how hurtful it was.

"Huuhhh? You're still alive? That's—that's impressive, actually." Her crazed opponent blabbered. She felt disgusted as Freed licked her blood of his blade, who then spat it out immediately. "BAH! PWEH—Why did I do that?!"

"...You didn't have to help me Koneko."

She was wounded, but she wouldn't die just because of a single attack. "You're being stupid, Kiba-senpai."

Her senior shot her a defiant glare, and it hurt her more than her wound. "This is none of your business. Leave me."

"You heard the man!" Freed yelled, leaning on his holy sword that was implanted in the dirt. "Get outta here so I can jam my sword into his pretty face!"

She pressed a hand on her side. The transparent rainwater mixed with thick red. "There's more of them inside... we need to leave Senpai."

"They don't matter."

"Damn right they don't!" Freed bore the same grin that was starting to get on her nerves as he charged forward, Excalibur Mimic in form of a katana in his hands.

The two blades of steel cried as they clashed. Once, twice, a testing. Kiba backed off a step and Freed came after. He wielded his Holy Eraser, a dark blade that cast black tentacles to grip around the Excalibur, but he knew it could never eat its holy power never mind hold against its force. He had to be warier to stand a chance, but his blind anger was a greater foe than Freed.

Koneko would abandon a stranger from the Church, who was at the time still lying on the ground somewhere behind them, but not her senior.

As the two swordsmen parried slashes, she had dashed, ignoring the pain ebbing by her stomach, and delivered a jab right at Freed's right side. But Freed jammed his sole at Rias' Knight, kicking him away as the Excalibur Mimic turned into a tiny rope that latched around his arm. He drew out another sword out of his damp white cloak. The sword was peculiarly shaped, akin to a lightning bolt and radiated a threatening aura despite its soft faint glimmer.

All of the sudden, his speed was like lightning itself, leaving an afterimage as Koneko punched the air.

He stood behind her. "Addio!" Freed laughed as he branded his sword vertically, only to meet the flat end of Kiba's black blade before he could try to see if he could split a girl in two. "Oh fuck off!"

Freed cried out in frustration rather than pain as Koneko shot her leg backward, hitting him square in the guts. It was a weak kick; she knew. She had swayed as she kicked. Lurching forward caused her to wince from the bleeding.

The crazed Exorcist staggered a few steps in reverse. He managed to return the kick with another, hitting her hard on her injury. The girl winced and flinched, but before Freed could curse a 'Fuck you' to her, he had to meet demonic steel with blessed steel. The rain continued to pour and the ringing clashes were drowned by the thunder. A flash from nearby lightning momentarily blinded the three fighters, and they all blinked their eyes.

Ironically, being a human, Freed regained his vision first. Snagging the shapeshifting Excalibur, he turned it into a small dagger and deftly hooked it into his belt as he lunged at Kiba. The girl could wait, he thought. She was injured while the Devil boy wasn't. Yet, at least.

"LEAVE KONEKO!"

He grimaced as Kiba successfully parried his diagonal slash in time, one after another. Freed was attacking hard at Kiba, driving him to take one step back after another, to the degree that Freed couldn't withhold his mad laughter. His speed equaled the Devil, or perhaps exceeded it as Freed circled to his side and managed to nick a small cut on the blonde's shoulder, before they exchanged another flurry of clashes.

At the edge of his peripheral, Freed spotted the white-haired girl using the thick rain and her small stature to find an opportunity to attack him. An annoyance, Freed thought. He preferred one-on-one battles as he could satisfy himself without having to worry about being hit in the back.

When she stormed behind him, the Exorcist gave a wide berth as he leapt to his left. The two Devils nearly collided with each other, but to his disappointment, they didn't. The small runt had stopped and the handsome bastard had halted his swing midair.

"Go away. For the second time; I don't need your help."

"Gonna argue again eh?" Freed mocked as he jammed the Excalibur Rapidly into the road, leaning against it as if it was a cane. "Alright, go ahead."

Both Devils ignored him.

"We can't stay here, Kiba-senpai..." Koneko whispered as she stole a glance at her shorts. The jean material was damp with water and blood leaking from her side. The pain wouldn't stop stinging. Where's Rossweisse? She should had been here and helped... because, "...I can't help much."

"Then leave!" Kiba seethed, and rushed towards Freed who stumbled as he quickly grabbed his sword.

"Ay Dios Mio!" Freed exclaimed, entering another stalemate and a stare down with only their blades separating their faces wet from the showers. In the face of the blonde Knight's fury, Freed found mirth. "Why so serious eh?"

Holy Eraser slipped off his grip, and Koneko knew something was very wrong.

Freed had grabbed the dagger that was Excalibur Mimic with his offhand and lodged it right into Kiba's unprotected stomach. A wicked smile spread on his lips as the Devil let off a grunt as his eyes widened. The realization came slow, dripping slower like the red liquid oozing down the corner of his mouth.

"SENPAI?! NO! NOOO!"

"Oh yes! Yes! Yes! YES!" Freed bathed in the girl's harrowing scream. Letting Excalibur Rapidly switch hands, he twisted the small dagger that wasn't longer than his middle finger like a screw with his right hand, and pulled it out, causing more blood to spill.

The Exorcist's face twisted as he laughed, and all of the sudden, all Koneko could hear was his laughter only.

"Requiescat in pace! Shitty devil—GWAH!" Freed flew away, and he felt his face had just received a punch from a bulldozer.

As he regained his footing and rubbed his sore cheek, spitting a gob of blood. "BASTARD!" He fumed at the small girl. "What the fu—huh...?"

Freed did a double take as the blonde Devil slumped to the ground. Not at him, but at the small girl standing by him. He first noticed the ears, the white tail sleek from the rainwater, and lastly the thin black slit in her amber eyes. Thin white aura now cladded her petite figure.

"Are you a Devil or a cat?" He yammered, about to lick the blood off the dagger before he made a change of mind. "Make up your mind dammit."

The raindrops masked her tears as Koneko focused her power into her hands and legs, and her mind into murdering the demented exorcist.

"I'll... I'll kill you..."

"Never heard of that race but whatever." He slid the Excalibur Rapidly into his right hand, enhancing his speed, while settling the Excalibur Mimic back on his belt. He might be perceived as a lunatic, but Freed could tell she had increased her strength multitude of times. All the better. Easy wins got boring after a while, and he couldn't say no to a lone Devil, part-cat or not.

"Won't matter when I'm done with you!"

To be continued...