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....

Outside the Occult Research Club. 

--

The atmosphere was thick with tension, like a drawn blade ready to strike. The open courtyard stretched under the weight of unspoken challenges, a battlefield waiting to be claimed.

"Since you're both ready, let's begin."

Xenovia Quarta stood firm, gripping Excalibur Destruction tightly. The holy blade shimmered ominously in her grasp, exuding a divine presence powerful enough to make even High-class Devils wary.

Beside her, Irina Shidou held Excalibur Mimic, her gaze locked onto Kiba Yuuto with unyielding determination.

I watched them both, standing nonchalantly. Kiba had already summoned a demonic sword, its dark energy pulsing in his grip, yet I remained empty-handed.

Xenovia's sharp eyes flickered toward me.

"Where's your weapon?"

"I won't need one to deal with your Excalibur Destruction." I exhaled lazily, stretching my arms as if I were about to take a nap.

A flicker of annoyance crossed Xenovia's face.

"What?! Are you looking down on me?"

Without another word, she lunged.

Xenovia moved like a lightning strike, Excalibur Destruction roaring as it carved through the air. The sheer force of her charge sent powerful shockwaves rippling across the courtyard, causing Rias and the others to tense. They had underestimated her speed, her strength.

'Too bad for her—I didn't.'

I calmly summoned my [Susanoo]. The ethereal warrior flared into existence around me, its spectral form glowing with raw, unyielding power.

BOOM!

The moment Excalibur Destruction clashed against my Susanoo, a deafening explosion shattered the air. The ground beneath us cracked and caved, forming a ten-meter-wide crater. Dust and debris shot into the sky, momentarily obscuring the battlefield.

When the dust settled, Xenovia stood frozen, disbelief written all over her face.

"Wh-What?!"

She had expected resistance. She had expected a challenge.

But she hadn't expected this.

Xenovia's grip on Excalibur Destruction tightened.

'That attack… That should have at least injured him. Even a High-class Devil would have struggled against the power of my blade. So why… why does he look completely unfazed?'

I tilted my head, smirking.

"Oh? Were you worried about hurting me?" I asked playfully. "You even held back at the last moment. You're quite kind, aren't you?"

Xenovia stiffened.

"...."

"But you don't have to hold back," I interrupted, flashing a grin. "After all, I'm far stronger than you think. So come at me with everything you've got."

Her hesitation vanished. Golden light flared around her blade, the sheer intensity making the very air hum with divine energy. Without warning, she vanished, then reappeared before me in an instant, bringing her sword down with enough force to split mountains.

I sighed.

"Faster—but still not enough."

I stepped aside at the last moment, dodging the attack effortlessly. Xenovia's blade slammed into the ground, sending out a shockwave that blasted chunks of earth into the air. She swung again, and again, each strike carrying the weight of her faith and conviction.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

But none of them landed.

My body blurred, sidestepping every strike with precision so sharp it seemed almost mocking. Each slash missed by mere inches, my movements frustratingly casual.

'How… how is the gap this big?'

Xenovia gritted her teeth, pushing herself harder. Her footwork became sharper, her sword swings more aggressive. But no matter how she moved, I was always one step ahead.

Then, in a single instant, I closed the distance.

Whoosh!

Before she could react, I appeared behind her, one hand resting lightly on her shoulder.

The other? It easily plucked [Excalibur Destruction] from her grasp.

"Too weak."

Xenovia's breath hitched.

'Impossible…!'

In a panic, she leaped backward, her mind struggling to process how she had lost her weapon so easily. Across the battlefield, Irina, who had been clashing with Kiba, froze, her eyes wide with shock.

--

Kyoya examined the sword in my hand for a moment before casually tossing it back to Xenovia.

"Why don't you stop holding back?" I mused. "Bring out your trump card. Otherwise, you won't stand a chance."

Xenovia caught her sword, gripping it tightly.

"...How do you know about that sword?"

I chuckled.

"Oh, I'm the wielder of Excalibur—Sword of Promised Victory. It's not so strange that I can sense another holy blade, is it?"

She stared at me, searching for deceit in my expression—but I gave her nothing.

Finally, she let out a deep breath, her expression hardening.

"I see… In that case, I won't hold back."

Carefully, she wrapped Excalibur Destruction in white cloth once more. Then, she extended her right hand into thin air.

A ripple spread across the space beside her.

And then, it appeared.

A magnificent, overwhelming Holy Sword—its aura fierce, wild, and untamed. Unlike Excalibur Destruction, which radiated controlled power, this blade was like a force of nature, barely restrained by its wielder. Its blue hilt gleamed, its edge shining with an intensity that sent chills through the air.

The moment it materialized, a sharp pressure descended over the battlefield. Even Rias and the others—who had been merely watching—stiffened at the sheer presence of the weapon.

"Th-That sword… Could it be the Holy Sword Durandal?"

Kiba, despite his hatred for alchemically created Holy Swords, couldn't hide his shock.

Akeno's eyes sparkled with intrigue.

"Ara… To think she has a sword like that. No wonder she believed she could take on a Fallen Angel Cadre."

Rias nodded, her gaze solemn.

The previous wielder of Durandal was none other than Vasco Strada, a Cardinal of the Church and one of humanity's greatest warriors. Even in his eighties, he remained a terrifying force.

In his prime? He had once cleaved an Ultimate-class Stray Devil in half with a single swing.

And now, this sword—this monster of a blade—rested in Xenovia's hands.

"Even I can't fully control Durandal's power," Xenovia admitted. "I keep it sealed in another dimension most of the time to avoid unnecessary destruction."

Her grip on the blade tightened, her expression unwavering.

"If I use this, I won't be able to hold back. Are you sure you still want me to?"

I smirked, summoning my own blade—the Sword of Promised Victory. Its radiant light cut through the air, meeting the Holy aura of Durandal head-on.

"Do you really think your sword can compare to mine?"

Xenovia hesitated, then sighed.

"...Probably not."

Her lips twitched, betraying the faintest hint of amusement.

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