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....

The tension in the air was palpable. Outside the Occult Research Club, the night was still, yet the battlefield was anything but. The faint glow of streetlights barely illuminated the courtyard, casting long shadows over the waiting spectators.

I pointed [Excalibur] at Xenovia, a casual smirk on my lips.

"Alright, let's see how much power you can unleash with [Durandal]."

Xenovia's grip tightened around the holy sword's hilt. She knew she was outmatched—her instincts screamed it—but she refused to back down. With a determined glare, she lunged forward, [Durandal] slicing through the air with a divine hum.

'Still too slow.'

I sidestepped effortlessly, watching her blade pass inches from my chest.

"Your speed is lacking, and your swordsmanship is sloppy," I said, dodging her follow-up strikes with minimal effort.

Xenovia gritted her teeth, refusing to let frustration cloud her focus. She pressed forward, launching a relentless barrage of slashes, trying to break through my defense.

It was useless.

Every attack, every strike—I was always just out of reach.

My movements were precise, almost mocking in their ease. Worse yet, I wasn't even using my full strength.

Xenovia noticed it too.

One hand.

I was wielding [Excalibur] with a single hand, barely exerting myself, yet I was still pushing her back.

Her frustration boiled over.

"HYAAAAH!!"

Golden energy surged from [Durandal], crackling wildly as she swung with everything she had. The sheer force of the attack warped the air, sending a shockwave rippling outward.

The courtyard trembled.

Even Rias and the others, who had remained silent observers, stiffened at the overwhelming holy power radiating from Xenovia's blade.

But the result was the same.

I stopped it with one hand.

The moment [Durandal] struck my blade, a surge of black and crimson lightning erupted from my body, splitting the ground beneath us.

Xenovia's eyes widened in shock.

I vanished—and before she could react, my [Excalibur], imbued with immense power, slashed through the air.

A moment later, Xenovia was sent flying, crashing into the ground with a dull thud. [Durandal] slipped from her grasp, skidding across the dirt.

I sighed.

"You lose."

Xenovia lay there, dazed, her breath ragged. Slowly, she forced herself up, her gaze locked onto me.

"You're not a true Holy Sword Wielder yet," I continued.

"What…?" Her voice barely escaped her lips.

She had brought out [Durandal], poured everything into her attacks—and yet, she couldn't even touch me.

"Even though you wield two Holy Swords, your technique and power are far from enough to be recognized as a true Holy Sword Wielder."

I walked forward, stopping just a few feet from her.

"Your performance was impressive, but that's because you're borrowing Durandal's strength, not unleashing its full power. The previous wielder of [Durandal]—Vasco Strada—could slay an Ultimate-class Devil with a single swing. What about you?"

Silence.

Xenovia clenched her fists, her expression clouded.

"…Maybe you're right," she admitted. "I'm not worthy of [Durandal] yet."

She had fought with everything she had—yet it hadn't been enough. The realization left a bitter taste in her mouth.

...

Meanwhile, across the courtyard, Kiba's battle with Irina was also coming to an end.

In the original timeline, Kiba would have been completely overpowered by the Holy Sword's natural suppression and lost.

But that was before my training.

Now?

The difference in strength was clear.

A few moments later, Irina was disarmed, her [Excalibur Mimic] falling to the ground. She stood motionless, her face pale, unable to process what had happened.

Kiba didn't say a word. He simply sheathed his sword and walked over to me.

I smiled.

"Good work, Kiba."

"Thank you, Kyoya." Kiba nodded, gratitude flashing in his eyes.

A soft chuckle broke the silence.

"Ara~ It looks like everything's been settled."

Akeno's voice carried amusement, but her gaze flickered toward Xenovia and Irina, who stood there defeated and dejected.

"Yeah," I muttered.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then, to everyone's surprise, Xenovia and Irina stepped forward—and bowed deeply.

"Asia, Kiba… I apologize for what we said earlier. We were wrong."

Asia flinched.

"N-No, you don't have to apologize!" she stammered, waving her hands frantically.

Kiba's expression remained unreadable, but he no longer looked at them with the same coldness as before.

Rias sighed.

"Now, let's talk."

Xenovia and Irina straightened, their expressions still clouded.

"There's no need to worry," Rias said calmly. "This is your fight with the Fallen Angels. As long as you don't bring trouble to us, we won't interfere."

Xenovia hesitated for a moment before nodding.

"Understood."

But I wasn't about to let them off that easily.

I glanced at the two of them, my voice turning sharp.

"You both should know by now—you're not strong enough."

Xenovia's shoulders tensed.

"Going up against Kokabiel with your current strength? That's suicide. Are you really planning to go through with this mission?"

Everyone turned to look at the Church duo.

Xenovia and Irina exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with sorrow. But even so—

"Yes," Xenovia said firmly. "Even if it costs us our lives, we won't abandon this mission."

Their resolve didn't waver.

Rias sighed again.

"The Church really is cruel… Sending them on a suicide mission like this."

Everyone fell silent. Even Kiba, who hated the Church, couldn't bring himself to say anything.

"Kiba," I said, watching him closely. "You've been acting different ever since you saw those Holy Swords. What's on your mind?"

Kiba hesitated.

I already knew the answer.

"Kiba," Rias spoke up softly. "Kyoya saved me—You can trust him"

Kiba's eyes widened slightly.

"Buchou…"

A moment passed. Then, with a slow breath, he nodded.

"Alright, we'll leave you two alone," Rias said, gesturing for Asia and Akeno to follow her.

Once they were gone, I turned back to Kiba.

"Talk to me, Kiba. We're friends, right?"

He was silent for a moment—then, finally, he spoke.

He told me everything.

How the Church had taken him and a group of children, forcing them into Holy Sword Adaptability Experiments. How, when none of them succeeded, they were discarded like trash—poisoned to death, their souls extracted for Holy Crystals (Holy Element).

Kiba had only survived because of his 'friends' sacrifices'. He had carried that hatred with him ever since.

I already knew this story.

What Kiba didn't know was that the Church itself hadn't ordered the massacre—it was Valper Galilei, a rogue scientist obsessed with his own experiments.

"Kiba," I said, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Trust me—and trust Rias. We're your allies. And as for those alchemical Holy Swords…"

A smirk played at my lips.

"I'll make sure you get your revenge."

Kiba's eyes widened.

Then, slowly, he nodded.

...

Later that night, as we walked home, I suddenly stopped.

"I've got something to take care of. I'll be back later."

Rias raised an eyebrow.

She had no idea.

The truth? I wasn't about to let Xenovia and Irina walk into their deaths.

This was my chance, and I wasn't going to waste it.

❁❁❁❁

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