The fight had tipped.
Xenovia was fast, relentless, and precise—
But Issei… was relentless in a different way. Driven. He gritted his teeth, steam pouring from his gauntlet.
“Boost!”
Another surge of energy coursed through his arm as he charged in. Xenovia blocked, parried, and twisted—but each ti, his strikes grew heavier, more forceful. Her arms ached with every impact, her breath growing faster. His power wasn’t just increasing—it was accelerating.
She leapt back, barely dodging a crushing blow aid at her ribs.
“This is getting dangerous…” she muttered, narrowing her eyes. “His Sacred Gear really is a threat.”
From the sidelines, Kiba watched with tense eyes. “She’s under pressure. He’s overwhelming her with sheer force. If she doesn’t end this soon…”
“She’s going to get serious,” Akeno finished grimly.
Xenovia raised her holy sword—this ti, without restraint. A radiant glow surged through the blade, divine light pulsing with barely contained wrath. She tightened her grip.
“I didn’t want to use this… but if I wait any longer, you’ll be too strong to stop.”
Issei skidded to a halt, locking eyes with her. His grin had vanished. He could feel it—raw, sacred power brimming, ready to explode.
“Wait, she’s—!” Rias stood, alarm flashing across her face.
“She’s going to unleash the full power of that sword!” Irina shouted in a panic. “He’ll be—!”
Xenovia stepped forward, her sword already descending. The holy blade flared with punishing radiance.
This wasn’t a spar anymore.
It was judgnt.
And then—without warning—
Clang.
A flash. A sound like tal crashing into sothing impossibly solid.
The strike never landed.
Between them stood Kousuke. His back to Issei, one hand raised—gripping the glowing blade in his bare palm.
Xenovia gasped. “W-What…?”
The holy sword trembled violently in his grasp. The divine light flickered erratically, as if confused.
Kousuke stared down at the weapon, tilting his head slightly—like soone inspecting a smudge on glass.
“Too much,” he said plainly. “You were about to kill him.”
His tone was light, almost casual—but the weight in it silenced the entire field.
Xenovia slowly retracted her sword, stepping back like soone who had just woken from a trance. Her heart pounded in her chest. “No one should be able to do that… Not without a Sacred Gear…”
From the sidelines, silence stretched.
“Did he just…” Rias’s voice faded.
“…You all saw that, right?” Saji asked, voice cracking. “Like—I didn’t imagine that?”
“No barrier. No Sacred Gear,” Akeno murmured, her expression unreadable. “He stopped a holy sword… with his bare hand.”
Kiba’s jaw tightened. Even for soone who had lived and breathed swordplay, what he had just witnessed defied logic. “That sword can cut through a dragon’s scales. That’s… not supposed to be possible.”
Even Irina was struck speechless—her mouth opened, lips moving soundlessly. She had been shocked when she learned Issei had beco a devil… but this?
This was on a whole different level.
Koneko, now sitting in Kousuke’s folding chair with popcorn frozen halfway to her mouth, stared in silence. The only sound was the slow, deliberate crunch of a popcorn kernel.
Kousuke glanced around at everyone, unfazed. “What? You all act like I wasn’t always this aweso.”
He turned to Issei and shot him a thumbs-up. “You did good, my man. You had her cornered. I’m proud of you.”
Issei, still panting and processing how close he had co to disaster, blinked slowly. “…Thanks… I think.”
Xenovia stared down at her sword, then looked up at Kousuke’s retreating figure.
“…Wait.”
Her voice was quiet—but commanding.
Kousuke paused mid-step, slowly turning. The breeze caught the hem of his coat as he tilted his head in curiosity.
“You caught my holy sword… with your bare hand,” she said slowly. “That’s not sothing anyone should be able to do. So…”
She stepped forward, eyes sharpening like a soldier on the battlefield. “What are you, really?”
The small crowd behind her held its breath. Even Rias and Sona leaned forward slightly, alert.
“I am…”
Everyone leaned in.
“…Batman.”
They all floored instantly.
“Y-You…”
A collective wave of disbelief and frustration rippled through the group. They all had the sa thought:
They wanted to strangle him for joking at a ti like this.
“Yeah, I know—I’m not as rich as Batman,” Kousuke sighed with exaggerated regret. “And my parents are still alive and well.”
“That’s not the point!” Sona snapped, exasperated.
“Eh? It’s not?” He tilted his head again, feigning innocence. “Wasn’t this whole thing about getting Xenovia to apologise to Asia? Since Issei lost, does anyone want to step in and continue?”
“I’ll do it,” Kiba said, stepping forward without hesitation.
Ever since he’d laid eyes on Xenovia’s holy sword, sothing inside him had stirred. A mory. A scar. A ghost of the past that never stopped haunting him.
Just recalling it made his hands clench into fists.
Xenovia might be the successful result of the sa experint that had ruined so many lives—including those he had once called friends. And if that were true…
He had more than enough reason to fight.
This wasn’t just about Asia anymore. It was about closure. About justice.
He had searched for years, but clues always vanished like smoke. Whoever was behind it had erased the trail perfectly.
But now—today—he was staring at living proof. And he would not waste the opportunity.
“Kiba…” Rias murmured, watching him with concern. She knew. She rembered.
He turned to her and smiled reassuringly. “It’s okay, President. This isn’t about .”
No—it wasn’t about him. Not just him.
It was about the people who died that day.
He summoned his Sacred Gear. A demonic sword materialized before him, rising from the ground like a dark monunt to everything he had lost.
Kiba wrapped his fingers around the hilt and pulled it free. The blade glead coldly under the sunlight, humming with his resolve.
He stepped forward, eyes locked on Xenovia.
“Please spar with ,” he said, voice steady. “This ti… it’s my turn.”
"No, there's no need," Xenovia said, shaking her head. "I understand my mistake."
"…What?" Kiba couldn't believe what he was hearing. It completely threw him off. She seed like the type to stubbornly cling to her teachings—that was what he, and everyone else, had assud.
Reviews
All reviews (0)