A Life Kept Simple (DxD/Hentai Chaos Gacha OC-SI) — Chapter 33 (Patreon)

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“You know, I think the anticipation might’ve elevated the movie for me,” Serafall says idly as we walk out of a dazzling, opulent, old-fashioned cinema in Lucifaad. The entire city’s got this weird steampunk aesthetic going on, except you’ve got magic instead of steam.

I take in the crisp late afternoon air with a content sigh. If I close my eyes, I can still smell that warm, slightly nutty popcorn aroma.

“Told you it was good,” I say smugly.

“It was!” She beams. “I liked Pepper.”

“Of course you liked Pepper.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You deal with nightmare PR situations with grace?”

Serafall gives me a pleased little hum. “...Nice save! Remember, flattery will get you everywhere.”

I snort, looking out over the street. Carriages trundle past shopfronts, where these things that sort of resemble cars sit parked, but they’re a little oddly shaped. Inside those windows, magic circles flash in place of neon signs with advertisements moving around inside them.

“You’re awfully happy,” Serafall notes.

I glance down at her. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

I shove my hands into my pockets and keep walking.

“Oh, come back!” Serafall catches up within seconds, grabbing my arm with both of hers. “I think it’s cute!”

“Yeah, yeah.” I can’t help smiling, which is probably a mistake because she immediately points at my face.

“Aww…”

Still giggling, Serafall loops her arm properly through mine. We wander without much direction for a while, following the flow of people down one of Lucifaad’s absurdly wide boulevards. There are restaurants all over the place, thankfully, because I’m pretty hungry right now. Though some have things hanging in their windows that I’m pretty sure were never alive on Earth.

“The hell is that?” I slow down in front of one restaurant. Serafall follows my gaze towards a purple tentacle hanging from a butcher’s hook.

“Oh. That? It tastes pretty good grilled. You should try it.”

“I think I’ll pass.”

“Why? You eat squid, right?”

I give her an unimpressed glance out of the corner of my eye. “Squid doesn’t have eyes on its tentacles. It’s looking at me, Serafall.”

“Huh. So it is!” She leans closer to the window. “Still tasty, though.”

We keep walking for way too long. I’m tempted to ask her if she’s even hungry as her attention drifts from windows to signs as a tiny smile pulls at her mouth.

“...What?” I ask, following her gaze.

Serafall looks thoughtful. “Well, I was just wondering.”

“Wondering what?”

“How long is your girlfriend’s peerage going to follow us? I was sure they’d call it quits after the movie, haha~!”

【—〄—】

Mary Naamah

…It was a damn shame the Cloak of Invisibility could only fit so many people, is what she thought as they trundled out of the Morningstar Picture House. It meant that, aside from Saki and Leona packed underneath it with her, everyone else wouldn’t get the benefits of whatever anti-clairvoyance measures it possessed. Invisibility magic and leashing one’s demonic power only went so far; thus, the journey to the cinema itself was nightmarish.  Never mind during the movie itself. Ibaraki nearly gave them away seven different times by her laugh alone!

Worst of all, when Tony Stark fell through the roof into his garage, the automated fire extinguisher buried him in foam and mist. In hindsight, bringing Ibaraki had been a mistake. In further hindsight, bringing everyone had also been a mistake, because not only was it a hassle to corral them all, but even after all that, they started dropping like flies right after the movie.

“I’m hungry,” Murata announced.

Mary glanced over. “We’re following them.”

Seto, standing a few metres away, raised one hand. “Sorry.”

“You too?!”

“We’ve been here for hours!” Miyata whined, peeling away to follow Murata with a long sigh.

“We watched the movie, didn’t we?” Seto added a little guiltily.

Mary stared at him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Seto shrugged, giving one last apologetic smile and wave before leaving. Ibaraki was the very first to leave after they hung back to let Takezo and Serafall leave and Kyouka…

Mary looked around. “...Where’s Kyouka?”

“Left already,” Leona said, underneath the cloak. “Like two minutes ago while you were giggling to yourself and drooling over your boyfriend with another woman.”

Saki’s eyes kept darting between Mary and the steadily retreating boys until her stomach growled loudly enough for all three of them beneath the cloak to hear. She went bright red.

“...You can go too.”

“I’m really sorry.”

Mary dropped her head forlornly. “It’s fine.”

“I-I can stay if you want!”

She gave the brown-haired girl a look. They’d talked about her people-pleasing tendencies, a fact she soon remembered with a small, shy smile. “Right. S-Sorry.” The cloak lifted slightly as Saki ducked out and hurried after the others.

Mary turned her head to Leona.

“Like Murata said: I’m hungry,” her best friend commented dryly. “And unlike you, I don’t have a particular penchant for watching without any chance of getting in on the action. We don’t all have voyeuristic innate abilities, after all.”

Mary grabbed her wrist when she tried to wriggle out. “L-Leona!”

“Oh, come on. It’d be one thing if they were up to something raunchy, but they’re just walking around!”

“That’s what people do on dates!”

Leona stared back at her. “What are you actually expecting to happen here?”

“I don’t know. Something.”

“Like what?” Suddenly, her face turned smug. “...If you wanted to watch Takezo get it on with someone, you could’ve just asked Ibaraki. I’m sure she’d have let you stand in the corner of the shower.”

Mary clamped a hand over her mouth, only for Leona to laugh into her palm. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Mhm.”

“It isn’t! I can feel what he’s feeling from here. This is useful intel for… things.” She gestured vaguely underneath the cloak. Leona pulled Mary’s hand away from her mouth with a raised eyebrow. “O-Oh, fuck off!”

“Gladly~!”

“Wait—”

But it was too late. Leona ducked out from underneath the cloak, leaving Mary standing alone beneath it while she scurried off. Mary folded her arms. …Whatever. At least she had infinitely more room and fewer things to worry about now. She adjusted the cloak around herself and started after Takezo and Serafall again.

They hadn’t gotten very far. She could feel them well before she spotted them through the crowd, mostly because Takezo was still in such a stupidly good mood. He’d been like that through most of the movie.

…It was kind of cute, actually. Mary hadn’t understood half the things she’d felt him get all excited about, mind. Still, every now and then there’d been this burst of excitement from six rows ahead. Then embarrassment whenever Serafall teased him about it. Her emotions were enormous whenever Mary managed to get a decent read on them, but the difference in power made reaching her more difficult from this far away.

Mary pulled the cloak tighter as a group of devils walked past. She’d been thinking about that a lot lately. Not Serafall specifically. Well, yes, Serafall specifically, but everything else too. The Rating Game was tomorrow. After that, assuming they didn’t get completely annihilated by Sairaorg Bael, things would finally calm down. And then there was the sexily tangled matter of their love life. Mary liked Serafall, and Takezo seemed to like her, too. Serafall obviously liked Takezo enough that she rescheduled their sort of derailed date. 

…Plus she was gorgeous, decently filthy-minded, and no stranger to polyamory. On the other side of the coin was Ravel. Mary’s lips slowly curled upwards. That was a slightly more complicated project. She’d seen the way the blonde looked at both of them by now, though. There was something there. Serafall, Takezo, herself… and Ravel.

She silently counted four on her fingers beneath the cloak. …Hm. A foursome. Now there was an idea. Corrupting Ravel wouldn’t take much work after all their handsy dates. Ideally, some victory celebrations would do the trick. Mary nodded solemnly to herself. This was just one more reason to absolutely come back the victor tomorrow.

Suddenly, Takezo and Serafall disappeared around a corner.

“...Shit,” she muttered, hurriedly picking up the pace.

【—〄—】

Takezo Arima

Mary found out about my second date with Serafall a couple days ago. Or, well, my proper first date with Serafall anyway, and on the spot decided we’d be going to Lucifaad a day early. Her excuse was to take advantage of the day off I’d given everyone before the Rating Game, letting the former human members of her peerage see the capital city’s sights. Deep down, however, I had a feeling she’d try to pull something.

Lo and behold, I could sense (and hear) Ibaraki clear as day, following us all the way into the theatre. Not to mention the muted but still recognisable signatures. Of course, Mary’s is absent, likely because of the Cloak of Invisibility I gave her.

“They’re leaving,” Serafall says suddenly, my arm very much wedged comfortably into her bosom. She’s wearing a long-sleeved, wool-like turtleneck that’s dark teal in colour and some jeans, rather than her flashy magical girl outfit like I’d expected. Then again, I’m sure that means being mobbed by fans, not that we’ve managed to avoid being recognised in the street.

“Who?” I ask.

“Your stalker friends.”

I reach out with my senses with a frown, realising she’s right… mostly.

“Your girlfriend’s still here, though. I don’t know what she was using to hide herself from me, but it’s a pretty powerful piece of stealth magic. …Should we tell her we know?”

“Nah. She brought this on herself. I’m pretty sure she’s getting a kick out of this. Pneumancy makes her a little bit of a voyeur,” I say with a smile.

“Oh, really~?” She draws my arm flat against my chest, looking up at me with those big blue eyes. “Should we give her a show?”

“Out here? Not even you’d be that bold.”

I could tell her about Eros Hide, to be fair, and I’m sure Mary would sense everything we’d be doing… buuut I’m hungry. Thankfully, the moment passes, and we eventually settle on a restaurant a few streets down. It’s got an outdoor terrace overlooking one of Lucifaad’s stupidly pretty plazas, but we grab a table inside instead. I wait until the waitress disappears before leaning back in my chair.

“So, Diodora Astaroth.” The gluttonous smile on her face just fades a little. “Still nothing?”

“Nada.” She sighs, resting her cheek against her palm. “But seeing that the Khaos Brigade attacked the peace talks between us and the angels, I’m 70% sure they’ll try pulling something again.”

I drum my fingers against the table in thought. …Right. The inside scoop from Riser was that this Young Devil Gathering is being used as entertainment for broader peace talks between various mythological and magical factions. Pantheons, which doesn’t exactly bode well for me—but I can’t exactly leave my girlfriend high and dry either.

“For now,” Serafall says. “We’re looking, but there hasn’t been much luck finding him. He doesn’t have the ability to hide from us on his own, which makes him guilty as sin on its own. That said, being sure he’s rotten doesn’t help us find him. I’m hoping they attack so we can capture and interrogate someone high up for the juicy details, though.”

I exhale through my nose. Great. The dead end is still dead about a month later, but I’ll be able to put my nose to the ground and play detective once this tournament is done.

Our food starts arriving, which at least gives me something else to focus on. I’d picked something resembling a beef stew after Serafall assured me that everything in it had once possessed a normal number of eyes, a standard that I have for Underworld food now.

Serafall has triple the plates as I do. Rubbing her palms together gleefully, she wets her lips and puts away a mouthful of pasta.

“...Wha’re you loo’in ah?” she says while chewing.

“How are you not fat if you eat that much regularly?”

She looks down at herself, swallowing audibly. “Magic.”

“Bullshit.”

“Hehe~!” Serafall sets the spoon down with a clink. “If you really want to know, like me, you’d need to be of the cloth.”

I frown. “Aren’t you a devil? How are you part of a nunnery?”

“No, silly! You’d need to don my splendid attire and join me in battling the forces of evil on Miracle☆Levia-tan!”

…Well, that’s a wash, then. I shake my head wryly and tear another chunk off the bread beside my bowl of stew.

“So, how are you feeling about tomorrow?” I glance up, watching her stir the pasta with her fork.

“Pretty good, actually.”

She studies me for a second. “I thought you’d be more nervous.”

“Oh, I’m nervous, but I’m looking forward to it, too.”

“Mhm. Well, I’m still annoyed.”

“About the match?”

She shakes her head. “It’s the reason you’re having it. They can call it whatever they like, but I’ve been dealing with those people for a very long time. Mary’s a half-devil who went from being the daughter of a Baron not many bigwigs cared about to having people cheering her name in Lucifaad. Of course some of them hate that and want to knock her back down.”

“Well…” I lean back. “...they might regret that. They also did give me that chance to honour Notus, too.”

Serafall’s eyebrows rise. “...That’s a precious way to think of it.”

“Besides, my friends have all gotten strong.”

Admittedly, not Sairaorg Bael and his peerage strong. I’m not that delusional. But thanks to Ravel and some impromptu pivoting between Mary and me, we’ve got a pretty decent plan.

I grin wider. “Fuck it. Let’s see what happens.”

“I like that energy!” Serafall beams at me, slurping up a string of spaghetti. “Mhm! I love Sai, but between you and me, I’m rooting for the upset.”

“...Is Satan Leviathan allowed to admit that?”

“Falbium is too.”

“Seriously?” I laugh.

“He’s making a placard. Keep an eye out on the day. Besides...” Serafall draws the word out, tapping her fork against her lips. “I think you deserve a little encouragement. Tell you what. Let’s make a bet.”

“On whether we win? What do you get if we lose?”

“Haven’t decided yet!”

“You’re meant to decide the stakes before—”

The restaurant door opens somewhere behind me, the bell tinkling, but I barely pay it any mind. Serafall’s eyes flick past my shoulder for half a second before returning to me. Then she smiles, sliding around to my side of the table to sit square on my lap, palms to my chest.

“If you win tomorrow...”

I lean back as she comes closer, wriggling into place on my lap, completely aware of the effect it’s having on me and relishing in it.

Serafall brings her lips to my ear. “I’ll let you do anything you want to me…”

“...Anything?”

Her hair tickles the side of my face as she backs away just a teeny bit. Now, we’re nose to nose, and I can feel myself grinning.

“Anything,” she confirms, her face reddening bit by bit.

“That’s a dangerous amount of freedom.”

“But I trust you,” she says with a giggle.

“You know, you really shouldn’t.”

Behind me, someone makes a very strange choking noise.

I turn around and immediately wish I hadn’t. Sona Sitri is standing by the entrance in casual clothes, and she looks as surprised as I feel, if not more. A few of her peerage members are here with her to collect some kind of mass dessert order. Notably, Saji and the long-haired girl I think is her VP—Tsubaki something, I think. Her eyebrows are somewhere near her hairline, while Saji looks like I just shot his dog.

Serafall wraps both arms around my neck and starts rocking happily back and forth in my lap, humming a jolly tune. …And to think that some days ago, in spite of Serafall, I’d made such a good impression on Sona, too. I turn around, intentionally not looking anywhere near the Satan in my lap, with what I hope is a resigned expression on my face.

“Ooh~?” I hear her croon. “Did you catch your big sister doing something dirty, Sona~?”

Sona grits her teeth, blushing fiercely. “...Good evening, Arima.”

“Good evening,” I say lamely. Sona and I look at each other and come to a silent, mutual agreement.

“I didn’t realise you would still be in Lucifaad tonight,” she says.

“Yeah. We came a day early.”

“I see.”

“F-Figured we’d make a day of it.”

“That sounds pleasant.”

“Mhm.”

Sona pushes her glasses up her nose. Her cheeks are still bright red, but otherwise, she’s somehow managing to look me dead in the eye without much reaction to her older sister.

“Sairaorg is formidable. I imagine you’re aware of that by now. I hope you do well.”

I smile. “We’ll try. Good luck against Rias, too.”

“Thank you.”

“She’ll need it~!” Serafall chirps. “I’m sure Rias will be a difficult opponent. You’re still so red! Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“I am trying to have a conversation,” Sona hisses.

“I know! The way you’re trying to ignore me sitting in Arima’s lap is so adorable! He makes for quite the fun ride!”

Sona squeezes her eyes shut. “Your match begins in the afternoon, correct?”

I nod wearily, humming in confirmation.

“I’ll make sure to watch,” she says, opening them.

“...Thank you.” I glance behind her on account of Saji’s face cycling through a number of emotions, namely jealousy. Though eventually, he gives me a slow nod. I nod back a little bemusedly, watching him linger until Tsubaki grabs him by the scruff of his shirt to drag him towards the door. It’s a miracle he hasn’t dropped any of the boxes he’s carrying with how hard she yanked.

Serafall plants her forehead against my collarbone. “Pfft—!”

She snickers into my shoulder before popping out of my lap just as a waiter arrives carrying my dessert.

Sona exhales through her nose. “...Goodnight, sister.”

“Goodnight, Sona~!”

“Enjoy.” The waiter sets the plate down in front of us.

I look down at my strawberry shortcake in anticipation.

Across the table, Serafall goes very quiet. “You got dessert?”

“And you didn’t. I’m not giving you mine, by the way.”

A smile starts spreading across her face.

“What’s funny?”

“You ordered strawberry.”

“It’s strawberry shortcake,” I say through a cool mouthful.

Serafall props her chin up in her hands. “Wasn’t strawberry basic? Those were your words!”

“I said strawberry ice cream was basic.”

“No, no, no. You said strawberry was what you pick when chocolate isn’t there.”

“Well, there was chocolate cake.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “There was chocolate cake?”

“Yes, but I wanted this specifically today. No other reason.”

“So one might say strawberry beats chocolate?”

I answer by stuffing another bite into my mouth and chewing it in irritation. I’d fucked up by forgetting the argument we’d had on our failed date… and that Serafall Leviathan is entirely petty enough to bring it back up.

“Strawberry beat chocolate!” She starts giggling while I chew. “Is it good?”

…It is, unfortunately, really fucking good, but admitting that right now would be tantamount to waving the white flag.

“It’s alright,” I mumble. She gives me a smug smile. “...Fuck. Yes, it’s good.”

“Aha!” Serafall reaches across the table with her fork, but I slap it away with mine.

“Get your own.”

“But I’d have to wait.”

“Well, you should’ve ordered your own. Last time you stole my ice cream!” …Yep. Because if she’s petty enough to take the win, then I’ll be petty enough not to share this time.

“And you stole mine!”

“Because you stole mine first!”

“So we’re even!”

“Which doesn’t mean you get to start again.”

She lunges, our forks clacking together. “...Give me the strawberry.”

“No… I don’t think I will.”

“Takezo.”

“Serafall,” I say petulantly.

She bursts out laughing. I hold out for another few seconds before the sound wins me over. I cut the cake in half and push it towards her. Serafall beams and promptly eats the entire thing in one go. I stare at her puffed-out cheeks.

“See? Strawberry brings people together.” Serafall smacks her lips triumphantly.

“You really should’ve paced yourself, because I’m not giving you any more.” I point my fork at her. “Besides, the real lesson is that Satan Leviathan is a thief.”

“A cute thief—and your girlfriend likes me.”

“I don’t think she’s outside anymore,” I say. “Reckon Sona scared her off? I definitely didn’t expect her to appear.”

“Tell me about it.” Serafall laughs. “Boy, was that fun.”

I didn’t think it before, but Serafall strikes me as the kind of person to get walked in on having sex and keep on going just for the hell of it. I shake my head, digging back into the cake. My eyes drift across the table and Serafall catches me looking.

Her lips curl upwards. “Feeling motivated?”

“Very.”

“Good!” She folds her arms. “Now! I’ve got to say that I don’t do this for everyone.”

I stare. “...Good to know I’m the only one whose food you steal.”

Serafall snorts, breaking into a peal of laughter at the joke. She tries to say something but ends up having to cover her mouth with a hand when she chokes on the cake instead. Our bet aside, it’s not like I was planning to lose in the first place, but I’ll put it like this…

One more reason to win certainly doesn’t hurt when it comes to you in the shape of Serafall Leviathan.

【—〄—】

While it’s quiet in the waiting room, or whatever this room is, it’s not too quiet. We’re inside the equivalent of some kind of locker room that an attendant parked us into prior to Mary’s Rating Game. We haven’t been here long, but nerves are at an all-time high, so it feels a lot longer than it should. All in all, it’s been fifteen minutes at max.

“This is some bullshit,” Murata mutters.

“They’re defending,” Seto says weakly. “It makes sense that they were teleported first. I’m sure it’ll happen anytime now.”

Apparently, because we’re attacking for whatever ‘theme’ they’ve cooked up for the match, Sairaorg’s peerage gets a head start inside the dimension. It’s been three minutes since they went in, given it was said on the magical intercom in this room. The door opens and we all turn to look as Baron Naamah walks in, shutting it behind him.

“Have you all cast the communication magic?” is his first question.

“...Yes,” Mary says.

“Good.”

He looks around the room. His eyes linger on everyone.

“You’re nervous,” he says.

“No shit,” Kyouka mutters.

“Yes. You, especially.”

She shuts up.

“They are stronger and more experienced than you.”

“Dad,” Mary complains.

“I don’t believe lying would help, daughter. It is also a fact you know intimately. So do what you prepared to do and nothing more. A word of warning from me, Arima.”

“Sir?”

“You might take offence at the battlefield they selected.”

I frown. “Why would I—”

“Naamah peerage. Please stand within the transportation circle.”

The magic circle takes up most of the floor, currently a dull shade of beige slightly darker than the floor itself. It’s big enough that we don’t have to squeeze together once we’re standing inside.

“Transportation in five…”

I exhale.

“Four.”

Mary catches my eye, and I give her a smile. She walks up to me and takes my hand, running her thumb along the back.

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

Bright white light flashbangs me as we teleport in. The light peels away from my vision and I look up, shielding my eyes from the sun. The mountain is enormous. Its lower slopes are covered in thick forests and the occasional marble ruin. I think I can hear some kind of running water, too. Further up, great stairways and temples have been carved into the mountainside, half of them disappearing into the clouds. Past the cloud cover, the mountain flattens out into a sprawling palace of white marble.

There are more people set up on the mountaintop itself than in the palace, but there are no fewer than three signatures inside it.

“...Wow,” Saki breathes.

“Good.” Leona breathes a sigh of relief. “His Pawn is with him.”

“That means Arima needs to fight him alone!” Mary says. The statement makes my face warm at the prospect. She whirls around, torn between exasperation and amusement. “You’re excited? …Ugh. Of course you are!”

Ibaraki’s face scrunches together. “So I won’t get to battle the Nemean Lion? …Curses.”

“Hey.” I reach into my inventory and pull out a handful of cookies, which does lift her mood a little.

“Fuck that. Look how far up they put them!” Kyouka points. “They get the giant fucking palace and we’ve got to climb a mountain?!”

“Call it a wild guess, but I think whoever chooses the venues might be making fun of me,” I say.

Mary laughs. “Gee. You think?”

“Mount Olympus,” Seto says slowly.

Murata snorts. “That’s actually pretty funny.”

“This is a monument worthy of sacking!” Ibaraki is staring up at the mountain, hands on her hips as she addresses us. “You all might not be oni… but if you fight with the fierceness of one, we will not fall today.”

Murata punches his palm. “Damn straight!”

“So, are we ever meeting your dad?” Miyata asks as he toys with Hircine’s Ring.

“Or your old lady,” Murata adds. “We still don’t know which one it is.”

I clap my hands once. “Alright! Rating Game.”

A chorus of complaints follows me as I walk forward to where my shadow meets the mountain’s. It darkens, gaining a liquid quality as a giant mass of red feathers followed by a whipping, skulled tail bursts free. Great Nue’s wings buffet the air as it descends, Orochi worked into the shikigami to give it a far more serpentine shape. Its wings fold in with a heavy whump as it touches down and stirs the grass around the base of the mountain.

I turn back to everyone. “…Welp. We’ve got a plan, so let’s stick to it.”

“Ten out of ten pep talk,” Miyata says, transforming into a werewolf before I can retort. Mary steps up beside me. Seto pulls the Cloak of Invisibility out of his inventory to hand it to her. She throws it around herself and disappears as we all start climbing onto Great Nue. The shikigami crouches and kicks off. Its wings beat once, twice, and we’re already clearing the first stretch of forest, with the wind tearing through my hair as we climb.

A massive bolt of demonic power comes screaming down the mountain. Great Nue jerks sideways. The blast misses one wing by metres and ploughs into the forest below, swallowing several rows of trees in the explosion and setting the surviving ones on fire.

“Was that Kuisha?!” someone shouts as a hole in the world opens up in front of us. Great Nue flies straight through, the world turning pitch black for a second. Just as suddenly, we’re back in daylight as the hole empties us out over a huge stretch of open ground much further down the mountain.

We flew over this place on the way up—a wide, grassy plateau wedged between two stretches of forest, with a ruined temple off to one side. Three people await us in the centre of the field, evidently having expected our arrival. Gandoma Balam, the giant stone Rook, is impossible to miss. Ladora Buné stands a little way behind him, looking somehow even skinnier in person than he did on the recordings. Gold-haired Liban Crocell is off to their right, already holding his sword out, though it’s Gandoma who moves first. He’s ridiculously fast for something built like a landslide.

The ground caves underneath his first step as everyone scrambles off Great Nue. Suddenly, his whole body jerks backwards. His feet burrow deep into the ground as he slows himself to a gradual stop.

“Ladora… Liban! S-Something is wrong! I can’t move!” Gandoma growls and strains hard enough that bits of stone crack away from his shoulders.

Great Nue takes flight again, this time with me as the sole passenger, giving me a bird’s-eye view of the battlefield. Miyata bounds across the field and barrels into Ladora with a howl. Both of them disappear through the wall of the ruined temple in an explosion of marble. Elsewhere, despite being all powered up, Liban Crocell has Murata buried into the ground with some kind of… gravity magic? Kyouka dashes wide, forcing the blonde Knight to look away to deal with her.

The magic freezing Murata to the spot vanishes and transfers onto Kyouka, though she takes it better than he does, hunching over slightly. Seto runs over to help Murata up, pulling him back to where Saki and Leona are. The four of them sprout their devil wings and continue ascending the mountain. Ibaraki hasn’t moved, pointing her huge bone sword up at me. Sighing, I unsummon her and then summon her again.

“Wonderful! Now, take me to that sorceress who tore a hole in the world. She ought to be a good opponent!” She crosses her legs, perching just behind Great Nue’s head.

Gandoma Balam crouches and clears the ground easily, rising almost as high as we are currently. Dark, leathery wings burst out of his back as he flies towards us. Ibaraki makes an excited noise. He stays at a decent distance, though.

“...Psst!” I flinch as an invisible chin settles on my collarbone. “Miss me?”

“Everything seems to be going to plan,” I say, glancing at Gandoma Balam. “You’d better stop Kuisha Abbadon before she can join their mages in carpet bombing everyone heading up the mountain.”

She plants a wet kiss on my cheek before leaving behind only the sound of her wings beating through the air. Ibaraki frowns at Gandoma’s retreating form.

“What about my fight?” she huffs. “I was promised a glorious battle! If the Nemean Lion is denied to me, I shall hunt Kuisha Abbadon instead!”

“Go with Mary,” I say. The plan was to throw her at Regulus if he was down the mountain, but since he’s not, she’ll have to make do.

Thankfully, she’s got nothing against jumping people. I want to fight Sairaorg at his best, which I won’t get if we eliminate Regulus Nemea. Selfish as it is, Notus wouldn’t have it any other way, and neither would I. Ibaraki detaches her crimson arm. It swells until it’s as big as one of Nue’s wings and propelled by her oni-fire, too. She stands atop it and whizzes off after Mary and Gandoma Balam towards Kuisha Abbadon. Alone with me again, Great Nue beats its wings harder, carrying me after the others.

I gain height quickly, watching Seto and Murata split off under a barrage of elemental magic from the other blonde mage on Sairaorg’s peerage… Corianna, I think her name is. Meanwhile, Leona and Saki race up the other side of a cliff towards Misteeta Sabnock. Our pampered young mistress is, seemingly, doing a good job in returning fire. All the while, I keep climbing. I’m close enough that all the signatures on the mountain aren’t overlapping anymore. Clearly there are three signatures further up in the palace, but no one comes out to greet me yet.

It stretches across the summit in tiers of blinding white marble, with enormous pillars and open courtyards with rooftops trimmed in shimmering gold. Statues of the twelve Olympians line the broad stairway leading towards the throne room, all of them bearing their iconic regalia and standing several storeys tall. Clouds roll beneath parts of it. ...Fuck me. Does Olympus actually look like this? Dismissing Nue, I fall into a roll on the gleaming marble. My feet hit the ground, and I carry the momentum into a short run before slowing down to dust myself off. Ahead of me, the broad path narrows between the pillars into a sort of hallway towards the throne room.

I slow down as hooves clack somewhere ahead. A horse steps out from between the pillars, followed by the rest of the armoured figure sitting atop it, covered head to toe in plate. He aims his lance straight at me.

“Halt! Whosoever seeks to do battle with my Master must first pass his Knight, Beluga Farcas!”

I shrug. “...Fair enough.”

He barely manages to turn his helmet before my fist caves into his breastplate. The armour folds as horse and rider leave the ground together. Beluga flies off his horse, backwards through the hallway that he brings down on both of them. Pale blue light scatters through the rubble as a cool male voice seemingly descends from the heavens.

“Sairaorg Bael’s Knight has been retired.”

…Was that Sirzechs Lucifer? Shaking my head, I step over a chunk of marble and continue into the throne room. Twelve bare thrones sit around its edges in a circular formation, stripped of anything that might identify who they’re supposed to belong to. Probably a smart decision, considering the Underworld has decided to recreate an entire pantheon’s holy mountain for entertainment. Sairaorg sits on the centre throne, resting his chin on a hand, wearing a simple black sports shirt lined with red and baggy dark blue pants. Regulus Nemea, a lion trapped in a sacred gear somehow turned into a person thanks to Evil Pieces, sits cross-legged at the foot of the throne.

It’s a little off-putting to see the Nemean Lion in a childlike form, but maybe that’s just a thing with mythological monsters? Ibaraki’s a scary oni who apparently takes the form of a little girl, after all. Got to admit, there’s something monstrous about little children.

“You made good time.” Sairaorg smiles. “I did tell Beluga it was a bit futile to guard me against you, but he didn’t listen. Knightly honour and whatnot.”

I stop a decent distance from the throne, closer to the door. I uncap Riptide and reach into my inventory for my shield. Sairaorg rises from the throne. He’s just standing now, and I’m close enough to get a proper feel for him. Strong, for certain, but not insurmountable. For all the headaches Hera’s Breastmilk has brought me, narrowing the gap between our base powers is certainly a boon. Regulus starts to get up, but Sairaorg stops him by raising his hand.

“Not yet. I’d like to savour this.”

The orange-haired boy frowns. “But Master… if he defeats you, we—”

“Win or lose, cast all of it aside. All that matters now is the fight at hand,” Sairaorg says. “Wouldn’t you agree, Arima?”

Raising Riptide towards him is enough of an answer from me. Demonic power floods the throne room. The strings of my teal hoodie whip around my face, but that’s nothing compared to the dust blasting out from between the tiles as a result of Sairaorg’s demonic power.

I dig my heels in, shield raised, as the power keeps climbing and then answer in kind.

Next Chapter