DXD SI : Chapter 55 : Booth Talk & Sparring.... (Patreon)

Disclaimer - I don't own any of the characters appearing in High School DXD or the Anime or the manga whatsoever.

Oppai Club

–Magdaran Bael–

He was sitting in his the booth that was rapidly becoming his go to booth, sipping on just some sort of smoothie, not the exotic kind but still good enough and more importantly, expensive enough, just after a rather extensive meeting with Odin, wherein they discussed about tests, where and how they would be done, what sort of land he would be getting, and how secure and detached he wanted it to be from the Norse, and just how he was going to pay Odin and the Norse for this favour, all happy and minding his own business, too giddy about the near future to care about the atmosphere around him.

Then of course, the peaceful vibe around him had to be ruined by the blonde Fallen who just waltzed into the booth, ignoring the privacy filter that was turned on, parking his butt in front of a very irate Magdaran.

“So,” Azazel said, “Kid, fight any Original Pillars lately?”

He gave the man an exasperated look. “Really? As if you don’t have a high definition recording of that.”

“No, actually. I do not. Do you have it? Care to share?” The man really was shameless. Then again, if one wanted to reach that position, then one probably had to shed the emotion of shame and guilt far before even dreaming of running a supernatural faction.

“No, Azazel, I don’t have it. Also, who told you I was here? Do you have spies in Odin’s favourite club?”

Azazel tapped his finger on the table, summoning a glass of sparkling alcohol of some sort, before rolling his eyes at him, “No, brat. I don’t have spies here. I just have well wishers who told me something that made me come here.”

He scoffed, but didn’t otherwise respond, sipping on his smoothie that was just the right amount of thick and sweet. He really loved to treat his sweet tooth.

“So, are you leaving the Underworld now?”

He eyed the man with obvious suspicion; no matter his demeanour and his friendliness, he was well aware that Azazel was the Governor General of the Grigori, a faction leader on his own, and that alone made it really hard for him to trust the Fallen Angel. He was different from Odin, who likely had no use for someone of his power level. 

Odin was just that strong, and that meant he could trust Odin far more than Azazel here, at least when it came to being transparent about their intentions. So, with the intention of keeping Azazel at a distance, he replied vaguely.

“No. I am not leaving the Underworld. I just had a…disagreement with the previous Head of the House, and now that is resolved.”

Left went unsaid that his issue with Zekram remained unresolved, and the Old Fuck was next in line once his Garden was out of the Underworld.

“So, you killed your old man, huh?”

“Care to share why?”

He gave the man a disdainful look, one that flowed over him. “You know, this is  quite the blatant and, might I say, failed attempt at gaining information that you will anyhow get after a few days, depending on how high your spies are in the chain of information.”

“Well, yeah, but it is always better to get it from the source, no?”

“...No, Azazel. I am not telling you anything. And you can’t pay me, either.”

“A shame, then,” Azazel said, sipping on the expensive alcohol that he could afford mostly because of his old age accumulated wealth and, more importantly, his status as a faction leader.

After a few seconds of blissful silence, Azazel set his glass down, his eyes gaining an unholy tint to them as he leaned forward, all excited, “So, I’ve been thinking that–”

“No.” he didn’t even have to think about that.

Azazel continued unfazed, “But you haven’t heard my proposition. So, as you have met the Devil headache in my care, can we–”

“You mean under Penemue’s care?”

“Potato Pota-to,” Azazel waved off the distinction before continuing, “She doesn’t really have anyone she can relate to. If you can, can you just—”

“How will I relate to her? She’s like half my age!”

“Okay, you interrupting me? It was fine the first few times, but now it’s just annoying and hurtful.”

“Is it?” He smirked at the exasperated Fallen, taking a sip of the second order of the Crystal Strawberry Smoothie, whatever that meant.

“As I was saying, I am most interested in your Powers, but since—let me finish—” He smirked at Azazel’s narrowed eyes. For some reason, it was really fun to annoy Azazel, especially since the man couldn’t really retaliate in any possible way, not inside here anyway. “But since you clearly won’t let me study them.”  “Obviously.”

Azazel pouted at him, acting as if he was an old aggrieved man instead of the Twelve Winged Fallen that he was, “I propose an alternative arrangement.”

Azazel took a pause there, expecting an interruption or answer here. 

“Hmm. I’m listening.”

Azazel looked overjoyed at that, and he once again had to remind himself that this here was an ancient being who could put on and shed masks seamlessly, at least to his eyes. “So, you can come to the Grigori grounds, and there, you can get access to all the botanical research we are doing. Also, you also get to spar with my people or Vali, if you want to. Because, come on, Magdaran,”

Azazel smirked at him there, “It is clear that the only reason you lost was because you do not have enough practice with your powers. There is no way that Fossil would have lived if you had actually used your real powers against him.”

“I see. So, you want me to come to the heart of an enemy faction and then spar with your people so you know everything about me, my fighting style, my powers, and then develop a counter for it? Also, you want me to interact with a Half Devil Longinus wielder who you are clearly raising to be an attack dog. That sound about right?”

Azazel looked at him with an exasperated look, “Not everyone is out to get you, Magdaran. Plus, I think some sparring will be good for you, both for your social life, which is pathetic if I might say something about it, and for your combat prowess because of your lack of experience. Now, most of it can be attributed to your lack of age. I mean, you are only 18, and sometimes I forget  that, or atleast, I try to forget that because it just reminds me of that absolute monster and menace you are going to be but….”

Azazel then continued to babble on and on, and even though he was going to definitely reject Azazel, not just because he didn’t fully trust Azazel but because of the absolute loose cannons he had in his faction that were quite powerful themselves. Having thought that, Azazel’s words were not all meaningless.

He did make a pretty good point about his lack of social life, which did not bother him one bit, but he did care about his overall combat prowess, and lack of experience was most definitely a weakness on his part.

Azazel was wrong, though. Even if he did not have the most combat experience, he did have the element of surprise on his part, and even as he was now, if he had been in total control of his mind, he could have killed Zekram. He could say that with a pretty solid 80% certainty, and the rest of that 20% is why he, in his sober mindset, would have never attacked Zekram.

It was only due to his absolute rage at his mother’s sacrifice being made a mockery of that he snapped and erased the Two Pillar Devils along with Zephyr on the spot, before engaging Zekram. 

It was good that Zekram used the Holy Water when he did, though, as that just snapped him out of his rage. Otherwise, who knows what Sirzechs would have done at seeing a half dead Zekram and multiple dead devils below them, along with all the property damage.

Sure, the property damage was repaired, and the Compound was back in its original state within the day itself, but that did not bring back the Devils. He hadn’t had the time–no, that was what he kept telling himself. He did not have the courage or the will to face the families of the Devils who’d died that day due to his mistake.

He resolved to do that once his Garden was transported out, along with significant compensation because he was pretty sure that servants of House Bael did not have the ability to ask for compensation from them. Even if they did, Zephyr must have made sure to remove the thought of even asking that from the workers.

The man was a right bastard like that.

“You’re  right.” He interrupted Azazel in the middle of his tirade.

Azazel looked at him, confused, “I am?”

He nodded, “Yup. I do need combat experience. Plus, the cat’s kinda out of the bag anyway. I reckon that most factions know of me and my rough power level anyway. Might as well make use of that and get used to fighting with all I have.”

Standing up, he looked down at a confused Azazel. “Come. I’m sure they have a sparring ring somewhere around here.”

“What?”