One-Punch DxD: NEO - Chapter 92: Post War Result
It was the greatest pivotal point, and most drastic end to the war of Alfheim the elves once knew.
The sight of the Muspelheim army inspired dropping jaws and confusion.
Even more confusion when they declared that the baldy, the human in clothes that were absolutely silly and ridiculous, completely out of place, was their current King.
The strongest man of the Nine Realms that defeated Surtr. The one who defeated the legendary Thor and Fenrir.
The one that somehow, allegedly, made the Dragon of Dragons cry in the Dimensional Gap.
Oberon, Titania, Ikala, Celiphrana, Sycorax, everyone could not picture that this… egg-headed human could take down the strongest known being.
The fact that everyone outside of Alfheim confirmed this as truth made Oberon and Titania question their isolation as too much changed outside their notice.
King, Queen, and the two Princesses stayed in the Dark Elf Capital to resolve the aftermath, negotiating with the elven populace, to settle the eternal dispute between them with Rossweisse and the valkyries the two Norse Gods brought.
Euclid and Sycorax were in the prisons of Sycorax’s palace. Sycorax would not go against her word of surrender, still having the dignity of her royal status, thus she remained in her cell without manacles.
Euclid, on the other hand, was on the floor with all of his limbs removed to his chagrin, with Loki’s magic sealing his own. And since his duel with the Son of the Strongest, his reserves were low, meaning that he could not regenerate without blood and meat in this state.
It did not help that Loki made sure he could not use his Trihexa powers. Apparently, his experience came from handling Fenrir for some reason which annoyed him.
The rest moved above ground, mostly to deal with the aftermath of Saitama summoning ‘his army.’
Issei, Griselda, and Kiyome still could not believe that the baldy had an army in his back pocket. He could have one if he wished because he was more than strong enough to earn one, but…
Honestly, they could not see him managing an army. Like it was absolutely impossible to Saitama ruling over large, titanic beings towering over them.
Mostly, they were all towering over Issei, the dragon at the forefront.
All of Muspelheim natives eyed the young man with brown hair. A unique pressure of being at the center of attention from beings much bigger than him… he felt a little small under so many giants.
“…Uh… hi?” Issei could not handle the silence. He glanced at Saitama for help, though the baldy looked like he suffered from missing a great bargain sale.
One of the giants reached out. Issei stared at the giant’s hand… and the finger was gently tapping his hair with surprising care.
“…What are you doing?” Issei asked the flaming giant.
“…You have hair.” The fire giant explained.
“Of course I have hair.” Issei retorted with an offended look.
“Why aren’t you bald like the king?” Another squatting giant asked the boy.
Issei’s right eye twitched while Kiyome snickered, trying to hold onto her laughter in her stomach.
“Your mother is a human, correct? The stronger blood should be more prominent…” Another giant muttered while the others nodded.
“…That’s not fake hair, right?”
“It’s real.” Issei felt like punching one of them in the face right now.
“I suggest you leave the Prince of Muspelheim alone on the topic of hair.” The blue fire dragon snorted white flame. “…And Ddraig. Fancy to meet you within the prince.”
[…Likewise, Inreldur.]
Ddraig answered back.
[…Is it true? Surtr has met his end before Ragnarok? Killed by that stupid baldy?]
Ddraig still could not believe it. Yes, Saitama could kill Surtr, but he did not think that Baldy actually did it. He was harmless as an egg for crying out loud – unless provoked.
“You should’ve seen it, Ddraig. The flaming lands quaking under their blows, the skies clear of smogs for the first time since forever… and how our lord had fallen from challenging the heavens. It was a grand and honorable duel, which in the end, Lord Surtr granted Saitama the right to rule Muspelheim as his reward. We are honor bound to follow him.”
[All Hail, King Saitama!]
Every fiery being from Muspelheim roared.
“Yes, All Hail King Saitama!” Thor bellowed with a cheeky smile.
“I’m gonna smack you if you push it.” Saitama warned with a frown.
“Kuhuhuhuhuhu. D-Don’t. Or you’ll start… a diplomatic incident, King Saitama- Pfff!” Loki snickered uncontrollably, relishing the situation.
Saitama glared at the God of Mischief with bloodshot eyes and a trembling fist clenching the red rubber to its tightest. Oh, how he wanted to sock this guy so badly, but before he could do it, the blackened mineral sword rattled in his grip.
A sudden cold pierced through his hand as a presence took hold of the sword.
“Oh no…” Saitama paled.
This was someone he wished did not wish to notice his actions. Someone he really hoped would not decide to get involved with his family.
The sword pulled towards the floor beside Saitama against his will and exhaled a stream of flame at the ground, the fires drawing a flaming magic circle – A summoning circle that could transcend the boundaries and limitations of realms. The flames stoke, flaring to the sky ablaze and dying just as swiftly.
When the flames dispersed, it revealed an unlikely figure.
She was beautiful – Notably shorter than the rest of the giants, and more notably, a woman with a regal appearance. Hair as white as snow, pale skin that glittered under the sun, covered in something akin to snow and ice weaved together into a dress, crystal matter that should have no right to possess this smoothness and flexibility.
A crystal ice-blue crown rested in her hair as she turned around, facing Saitama who was sweating profusely.
[All Hail, Queen Sinmara!]
The Muspelheimians lowered themselves out of fealty for the reigning Queen of Niflheim and Muspelheim.
The woman was unfazed by the praise, her eyes locked onto the smaller man before her.
“…Saitama.” She greeted him coldly.
“S-Sinmara.” Saitama nodded somewhat awkwardly. “Err, what brings you here?”
“Don’t play coy. You have used my late husband’s sword. I could feel your energy even from across Nifleheim. So, I came here to see what could force you, the man that killed my late husband, to use our royal forces so daringly without consulting me first? Your Queen?”
His what?!
Issei, Kiyome and Griselda nearly shot out their eyes at the word.
With terrible timing, a teleportation circle appeared, Azazel and his team joining Issei; the fallen looked positively excited.
“Hey, hey! What did I miss?! Please tell me I didn’t miss the good stuff!” Azazel shouted as if he was rushing to see his favorite show of all time.
Someone in the know wanted to see the drama.
Vali and his team were surprised to actually see so many titanic giants… and dragons. And even fire elementals mixed in.
Issei was so at loss for words that he ended up flapping his mouth like a fish while darting his finger and his attention between his father and the Queen of Muspelheim.
Saitama, however, was the first to respond, “Whoa, no, no, no… You’re not pulling this on me, woman. That’s not what we agreed on.” He said while shaking his finger at Sinmara.
“What do you mean? You are our King. What kind of King shuns his wife – his queen?”
The rest who have arrived sported various expressions of surprise and bafflement, and all eyes were turned towards Saitama who was panicking and agitated at the situation he was trapped in.
“…Dad, what the fuck?” Issei called out.
[This is surprising. This is better than all of the movies and anime I’ve seen through your eyes.]
Ddraig could not help but speak out loud in human lingo.
Sinmara turned to Issei.
“Oh? Are you the son of my king?” Sinmara asked with a calm, cool smile.
Issei stared at the woman, nervous under the presence of this tall lady.
“…Yeah.” He replied while throwing a brief stink eye at his father.
Saitama looked like he wanted to bury himself into the planet’s core at this point while the two Norse Gods continued their stifled laughter at his expense.
“So… Ise, this is Sinmara. Sinmara, this is Ise.” Saitama could only roll along with it.
“How do you do, Ise… The Red Dragon Emperor.” Sinmara nodded at the boy. “I am Sinmara, the Queen of Muspelheim.”
“…Issei Hyoudou, nice to meet you, ma’am.” Then Issei returned the introduction in kind.
Sinmara then casted her eyes on the gauntlet on Issei’s arm, “…It is good to meet you again, Ddraig, albeit you have taken a different form.
[It has been too long since our last encounter, m’lady Sinmara. Despite the current circumstances, I hope life is still treating you well.]
The Welsh Dragon replied from the green jewel with an uncommon display of courtesy.
There was a brief awkward silence between them. Issei inhaled as he decided to get to the point.
Vali and his team were confused. Sirzechs and his Peerage stared at the scene, unsure how to react when they heard that Saitama was now King of Muspelheim from Azazel when he explained while they ransacked Euclid’s base.
“…The baldy is actually a king?” Vali whispered in disbelief.
“He has a sword. Arthur, he has a giant sword.” Bikou pointed at Saitama’s primal sword of mineral.
“…I am having trouble processing this for some reason.” Arthur admitted.
Surtr the Second was the most shocked that his progenitor was no longer in this world because of the baldy. Honestly, he did not know how to react to hearing that the real Surtr perished before he did. In combat no less.
It was both comedic and tragic in equal measure.
“…What is your relationship with my dad? Did you two….. uh…” Issei did not want to assume. But considering the fact his father and the giantess before him were king and queen, as well as the baldy’s shenanigan adventures – he must ask just in case.
He could not see Saitama doing that behind his mother, but… He became KING behind their backs. If someone like that, that dumb egghead that was currently undergoing depression, then anything was possible.
In response, Sinmara wore a bemused expression, “Why, has your father never mentioned anything about me?” She raised her eyebrows at Saitama.
“…Not once…” Issei glared at the baldy. The baldy sulked even more while the laughter of the two Norse gods grew louder.
Sirzechs and Azazel were there, with the others, staring at the scene.
“Damn it, I wish I had popcorn right now.” Azazel wanted to eat something to enjoy the show.
Bikou was eating chips from… Somewhere; his grin was at its peak while Vali was still processing that his rival had gained a royalty status.
Sinmara placed her hand over her heart, “How could you, my king? After everything that happened between us? You swore that you were willing to take responsibility after you killed my late husband.”
At Sinmara’s remark, Issei’s chiding glare had an inkling of horror mixed in. Meanwhile, Saitama immediately realized what Sinmara was trying to pull as he vehemently shook his head.
“No, no, no, no – don’t listen to what she said.” Saitama then turned to the giantess, “This is not what we agreed on, woman!”
“What do you mean? You took my husband’s life, did you not? Any good woman will grieve and be heart-broken, you heartless man.” Sinmara pouted.
“You…!”
“Pffffffff!” Azazel broke down into snickers.
Thor and Loki’s snickers grew more raucous.
“…And then you had the gall to not introduce me to your current family? My husband and I could never produce an heir because of our opposing elements… And you promised you would fulfill the void you have left in my life.” Sinmara continued with a slowly escalating tone of drama.
“No, no, I never promised you that.” Saitama retorted, his eyes darting between Sinmara and the rest to make sure he relayed his point across.
“But what about your promise to ‘make this up’ to me? Are you telling me you’re lying to a heart-broken widow?” Sinmara continued with a heartfelt sad voice.
At this point, even the Muspelheimians were starting to snicker, all knowing the truth and enjoying the royal drama.
Saitama exhaled as he closed his eyes in exasperation, “…You know what I mean by that!”
“And what do you mean by that? How were you planning to make it up to me?” She asked the exasperated, cornered baldy with a giant sword.
Saitama, however, was no longer having any of it as he met Sinmara’s stare with his own, “…Aren’t you satisfied enough? How long are you going to beat me while I’m down?”
The stare-off held for a few seconds until Sinmara scoffed – immediately, the awkward atmosphere vanished as she smiled towards Issei.
“Perhaps long enough. Very well. I apologize for the drama, everyone. But I hope I have entertained you all.” Sinmara turned to Issei. “In case you are wondering, I haven’t crossed that line with your father… yet.”
Saitama’s eye twitched at the insinuation.
“That’s… Not the most comforting, but I’ll take your word for it, um… Lady Sinmara.” Issei nodded.
“I appreciate your trust.” Sinmara curtly bowed. “Now, back to business. Why is the army here? Would anyone please inform me on our purpose of being in….. Alfheim?” Sinmara asked, looking at her surroundings.
Silence and hesitation was her response. Then Saitama opened his lips and recounted everything.
How he got here in the first place, how Loki suggested the army in his ears like a devious snake, and then how it came to this point. Everyone was a little surprised to hear that Loki delivered the idea to use a foreign army to intimidate the others into submission.
“…Allow me to repeat your words. You have summoned our Royal Army at the behest of the Trickster God’s advice on ending a potential war in another realm without resorting to excess violence? Where we have absolutely no cause in interfering as it will not affect Muspelheim and Niflheim?” Sinmara leered at the sweating baldy.
Thor and Loki bellowed in laughter at this point.
“It is unbecoming of a King to listen to advice from an unreliable God… It is like you want Muspelheim to be undefended.”
The Muspelheimians could only join the norse gods in their growing laughter, booming thunderous voices aimed at the baldy’s shenanigans as his ‘wife’ verbally whipped him.
“…Actually, I think I know of a way to punish you for this oversight. I believe it is time for me to meet your family.”
Saitama, who had been lowering his head in guilt, snapped his head back, “Nope, nuh-uh. Ain’t happening, no way.”
“You told me a lot about your family. I should acquaint myself with your human wife.” Sinmara’s lips curled into a sadistic smile.
Grayfia started to giggle while Sirzechs formed a wry smirk at the development. Honestly, everyone with time to spare was enjoying the entertainment.
“No, no no no. You’re not meeting Haruka.”
“Oh, you have been keeping me away from Midgard for too long. What better way to make the Strongest Man cow before me than through his family?”
“You are making me cow before you right now just fine!”
“Oh, maybe I should tell her of your ownership of the Royal Treasury and Armory? The countless precious metals and minerals that my former husband owns? Muspelheim has the greatest smiths as well, many priceless works of art in the generations. How would your wife react knowing you have so much wealth and secrets hidden behind you?” Sinmara’s cruel smile widened.
Saitama sagged his shoulders, “Come on, Sinmara… Can you just let this go? Besides, knowing that there would’ve been war with my kid caught in the middle, what was I supposed to do?”
“I’m quite sure you could have ended the war between the elves single-handedly if you wished so, Saitama.” Sinmara retorted.
Saitama looked up before shrugging, “…Well, maybe I could, but I don’t like these kinds of fights. It leaves a bad taste. Besides, it’s better to scare them with the army instead of beating up everyone in a full-out war; less messy that way.”
“Well, it seems that you are capable of thinking like a king, after all.” Sinmara jabbed with an amused expression before she perked at the sight of something black and small.
A four-legged thing with black fur and six eyes approached Saitama, the dog panting while wagging his tail.
“…Hey, buddy.” Saitama greeted his long-time companion.
Not long after, on Issei’s end, he was having Azazel to analyze the aftermath of his battle with Djall. Asia and Griselda did not think that Azazel could react in this way.
“What in the actual shit in my Father’s Divine Toilet in Heaven is this?!”
In the same location, on the natural fields of blue flora and dirt, Azazel examined Issei’s condition, the former asked as he inspected the gauntlet on the latter’s arm… Or what was left of it.
Asia was nervous and a little appalled, hearing Azazel’s first use of such a sentence.
Vali was curious after hearing Issei’s report on his battle with Djall and Euclid.
Everyone was shocked – There was someone in this world that could destroy Sacred Gears, something that had not been destroyed since its creation.
If word spreads that even the magnum opus of the Biblical God was not invincible… there would be many willing to test the limits of the sacred artifacts.
Honestly, hearing that there was someone in this world that can destroy a Sacred Gear… It frightened Vali. He would never admit it, but the thought of losing Albion this way unnerved him.
The Boosted Gear may appear normal from the naked eye, but as Azazel conducted inspection through several magic tools in his disposal, the Sacred Gear enthusiast could see that the Longinus had been through hell and back.
“Ise! What the fuck?!” Azazel removed his customized spectacle with in-built microscope and X-ray; before he turned his flabbergasted look at the owner of the gear.
“Whoa, Azazel. What’s with the overreaction?” Issei asked.
“The fuck you mean by ‘overreaction’?! Look at it! One of the most powerful artifacts that my Father ever created, reduced to this…! This…!”
Azazel could not even imagine how to describe it properly.
“This is like…! Like…! Albion and Ddraig having hate-love sex for days! And one of them actually got pregnant because of some shitty god’s stupid fetish or something! With the result being… this!”
Everyone then regarded Azazel’s analogy with various perplexed expressions, Issei in particular.
“…Ew.”
[Where and how in the nine realms did you get all of those images from?]
[…I don’t know which one is more disturbing, the Fallen Governor’s analogy or the fact he sees us in this… abominable light.]
Even the Welsh and Vanishing Dragon were baffled by Azazel’s comparing them to having a taboo, impossible child.
At this point, however, Azazel was about to hyperventilate.
“Okay, okay, Azazel. I think you should take a breather and pipe down first….”
Azazel quickly interrupted Issei’s attempt to placate him, “Shut up! This is probably because you allowed your ass to be handed over by Djall in the first place!”
“Seriously, what’s the problem? What’s with the sudden tantrum? You look at me like I just set off a nuke in the middle of the city or something.”
Azazel wanted to retort, but turns out he was finally hyperventilating. He lightly gasped for air as Issei rubbed and patted his back.
“There, there… In and out, easy.” Issei placated.
“Okay…Okay.” Azazel did calm himself down better, “So… From what I gathered here, as you said – most of the seals, safe for the primary ones within Boosted Gear have been broken. It will take time for me to find out which is safe or not but… Any symptoms so far? Ddraig is no Sacred Gear expert, and I will rip out my eyeballs if he somehow is.”
“Well, that remains to be seen.” Issei wasn’t sure if he wanted to see him ripping out his eyeballs. Or that he would go through with it, “Do you want the good news or the bad?”
“…Let’s start with the bad.”
“Where to begin… I’m not sure if I’m still hallucinating the memories of my predecessors. For now, it is fine, but… I don’t know for sure in the long run.”
It took a few moments for Azazel to process the information, “…Right, right… I guess the seals that are meant to keep the soul-fragments of your predecessors in check have been broken, so whatever was left of their thoughts end up affecting your own mind. What have you seen so far?”
Issei rolled his eyes around before replying, “…Dead people, a woman, a dead woman, flames everywhere and…. White Dragon Emperor attacking me; oh, they turned out to be Belzard’s memories.”
“Belzard? If I’m not mistaken, he’s your strongest predecessor, no? I do recall hearing he killed two White Dragon Emperors in his lifetime.” Azazel replied.
“The one and only.” Issei nodded.
“And the good news?” Azazel asked.
“Well, I used Djall’s poison to destroy the seals God placed on Boosted Gear. The one keeping his signature flames in check.”
Azazel blinked, “…Blazing Inferno of Scorching Flames? Wait, you used WHAT to break the seals?! How is that possible?!”
“Had to get creative because Djall evolved into a total bastard in every sense of the word. By the way, your God is a total asshole,” Issei remarked. “He hid the seals waaaaay up in the dimensional ceiling of Boosted Gear. I wouldn’t have found it if Djall’s poison didn’t reveal it by eating everything else away.”
“Well, when you put it that way…” Azazel rolled his eyes. “…I have no defense. Though that’s how he’s been keeping tabs on the wielders so far… interesting choice, Dad.”
He muttered a little under his breath.
“I see…” Vali rubbed his chin, ideas forming in his head on how to dismantle the seals on Divine Dividing.
He might have to pester Azazel for the diagnostic result of the current Boosted Gear to use as a reference in breaking Divine Dividing’s seals with his own power.
“How much of Ddraig’s power is at your disposal?” Azazel asked.
“All of it, I think. I don’t need to go Juggernaut Drive like Chuuni there to get the full package.” Issei pointed a thumb at Vali.
“You picking a fight?” Vali dared.
“Oh, and I think I got Euclid’s Divine Dividing, too; haven’t really gotten around to that part.” Issei added.
Azazel blinked again, “Wait, wait, you say you now have the Boosted Gear and Divine Dividing?”
“Well, not the Divine Dividing – more like a copy of one that has similar function, but… Yeah.”
“Issei. While I question how Euclid could counterfeit two Longinus level Sacred Gears, I must warn you. Using Boosted Gear and Divine Dividing is not something that anyone can use without experiencing excruciating agony. How are you not feeling that?” Azazel asked with quirked brows, “…You’re not feeling any pain, are you?”
“What do you mean? I feel nothing.” Issei shrugged to Azazel’s bafflement.
“…Are you sure? Not any feeling of…”
“None. I think you’re overexaggerating at this point.”
“…You did not just absorb Divine Dividing.” Vali refused to believe that his rival had the power of TWO Heavenly Dragons.
Cheerily, Issei summoned the Wings Of Divine Dividing replica on his back.
Vali stared at the wings with a mild intensity before scoffing, “…That is nowhere nearly like my Divine Dividing. It looks flimsy, like I can tear it off from your back with ease.”
“You could just say you’re jealous. Admit it. You’re jelly.” Issei smiled to his widest.
“Hmph. If you think making up words is enough to faze me, then know that you overestimate yourself too highly.”
“Alright, ‘rival.’ Guess you don’t want this green orb to absorb and catch up. I mean, with how much I’m leaving you behind the dust, this whole rivalry schtick is gonna be one-sided eventually with the Red Team taking the W for l-”
“Boys.”
Azazel’s voice abruptly stopped Issei’s tirade.
“…It is not the right time and place. Returning to Midgard is our priority once we finished dealing with the political aftermath…” Azazel’s expression was also a tad more grim as he continued, “Also, a word just came in that we found Lord Zekram’s body in Euclid’s workshop within the palace.”
The jovial atmosphere died at the words of a corpse discovered.
Issei and Vali’s faces tensed at the mention of Zekram.
While Issei did not meet the guy directly, he knew he was someone important in the world of Devil politics, something that could change the tides of change or stake it in place.
“…Shit… What other skeletons did you find in that guy’s closet?” Issei asked.
“Exemplary creatures of Alfheim confined and experimented… Experimental gene splicing. Other than that, we are hoping to uncover the truth behind Djall… I mean, Stjarna’s current condition. He grew into quite a bastard, if I have to be blunt.” Azazel sighed and groused.
“You speak as if you met the guy.” Issei pointed out.
“We did… our side didn’t go so well. He sent Yamata no Orochi to hinder us just for kicks. And then he ambushed Sirzechs… and did something impossible even by my standards.” Azazel grimaced.
“…What did he do?” Vali asked.
“…He can steal the abilities of others… he took Sirzech’s Power of Destruction.”
Both Dragon Emperors’ eyes widened at the idea.
In all of history, there was not a single record of a Bloodline power being taken. There wasn’t even mention of God attempting to turn Devils into Sacred Gears to harness their bloodline power.
“…That thing can steal bloodline talent?” Vali muttered before he returned his attention to Azazel.
“Yeah… It sucks that I have to worry about my power. I just got it recently, and now the bastard is salivating at wanting to take it from me…”
Vali and Issei exchanged glances.
“How is Lord Sirzechs doing now?”
“Surprisingly better than I expected; Sirzechs is recovering, and turns out only the Power of Destruction that is taken from the equation. The guy still has a ridiculously immense reserve, just no Power of Destruction – simply raw demonic power in its purest form.”
Issei blinked, “That’s… good, I guess? What now?”
“…Right now, I think the best we can do is return home with our heads held high. We have evidence of a conspiracy, and Mordax Bael will be put on trial. Grayfia is a witness to the betrayal of the Noble Faction. Though, we might have to conceal the fact that Sirzechs currently is considered a ‘cripple.’ There will be challengers trying to dethrone him if the word gets out.”
“…Wouldn’t they be more shocked that their powers can be stolen instead?” Issei pointed out.
“That sounds as if we are expecting Stjarna to drop by again, and that also is a recipe for either a mass riot or downright coup d’etat. Let’s play things by ear for now, yeah?”
Issei would not argue with that.
“We’ll continue monitoring Boosted Gear back in Andlang. Hopefully, I can whip up some patches to your jury-rigged abomination.”
“Hey, our patchwork isn’t that bad.” Issei snarked.
“You don’t have the know-how to understand what I mean… oh well. Doesn’t matter for now. Ddraig can handle the rest until we patch the kinks.”
Now Issei was curious about that… perhaps he should drop in and check in on Ddraig and see what was going on there.
For the first time in so many years, the fragments of the previous wielders of Boosted Gear were free of their shackles, trapped standing on their feet in a dreamless nightmare of their last moments and regrets..
It was not God’s design to tear fragments of the hosts, it was another consequence from the glitch in the Sacred Gear system, like Balance Breaker, the prison was formed by accident, past consciousness suppressed and buried, trapped in the memories of their worst, violent moments.
Other than two, they all died to the taboo, clumps of negative emotion left behind like ash after their ties to the physical world burned under the power of the Red Dragon.
The negative emotions festered, the fragments mired deeper and deeper in their own pit of spite and resentment, ready to explode under the first crack in the status quo.
Exploding into a violent rage filled with desire to return to life and return to their former glory. It was like facing a swarm of ants that could never die.
Elsha and Belzard were at the vanguard in their red dragon armor, exchanging spear and lance with the past users. Despite Djall’s poison burning away most of the seals, Ddraig was still unable to destroy the past users. They were all protected by the safeguards of Boosted Gear… they were linked to Ddraig as much as he hated it.
“Your time has passed, revenants!”
The great red dragon roared as he exhaled his true dragon fire. A wave of soul-destroying heat washed over the fragments of Boosted Gear, the swarm of past resentment lit ablaze.
“How long must I repeat myself to you lot?! Echoes of the past, know that I am your servant no longer!”
“You weren’t so defiant when we rode together against our enemies. Where is that obedient lizard from back then?”
Ddraig growled at the voice. Not every soul that wielded Boosted Gear was decent.
This one was the most arrogant, the weakest, so easily fallen to the lust of power and the abuse of it.
One of the most despicable souls that he had the displeasure of working with.
“…Genghis Khan.” Ddraig growled.
Yes, one of his past wielders was Genghis Khan, a despicable conqueror that terrorized Asia for decades.
Ddraig’s eyes fell on the sword in the Khan’s hand, the golden gleaming sword.
“…That sword is not yours.” Ddraig warned Khan when he saw Ascalon in the shade’s grip.
“Yet I am holding it as my own like I held you.” He aimed the dragon-slaying sword at the red dragon. “A dog of Mongolia will always be a dog. You and this realm are mine, just like the women that once defied the great Khan.”
Around him were the female past users of Boosted Gear. Most of them were subservient to him while the others joined the horde rushing at them.
“How arrogant…” Belzard spoke out. “You, a mere fragment, cling and pontificate on your superiority as if the past is the present despite the torture the Demon that invaded subjected you?”
“And the Khan will repay that insolence ten thousand fold. I made an empire with this power! I carved my land on the map that still exists today! You two are unworthy of the power that fell in your hands in life! Submit to me or perish!”
The true dragonfires died as the two sides faced off against each other.
Ddraig was confident that he could cow them into submission, though he was confused. They just regained self-awareness recently. They were not used to suffering like the damned souls of hell, and their fragility threatened them with madness if they were continuously destroyed and remade.
Why were the rest of the shades following this worst host of all time in the first place?’
And there was only one body…
However, before anyone could move, the one Ddraig fought hard to protect entered the soul realm.
He appeared right before Ddraig without warning, between the invading armies with terrible timing.
“Hey, Ddraig. Just want to check in on… Hoooly fuck!”
Issei Hyoudou accidentally caught the sight of the shadow army of past users before glancing around, seeing Ddraig behind him.
He heard about it, but he did not think he would see the past users actively rising in rebellion…
“Wow… this is… I thought you guys were downplaying on them trying to take over but…. Wait, is that my Ascalon?” Issei pointed at the strange, Mongolian man holding his shining golden sword.
Elsha and Belzard nodded at Issei’s question. His arrival was unexpected, but inevitable.
“This sword has a new master, boy.” The mongolian aimed his weapon at Issei. “Know the honor of facing Genghis Khan! You have one chance to surrender your body or suffer my wrath!”
Issei stared at the infamous Genghis Khan.
“…One of my predecessors is the Mongolian warlord?” Issei asked.
“Yes.” Ddraig sighed. “He is the most arrogant and egotistical host I had the displeasure of serving.”
“Huh. How the fuck did you get that from my inventory?”
“In my days, we checked our pockets and bags after every battle to not lose them. This sword is mine now, boy. And soon, so will your flesh!”
Instead of bowing, Issei reached out and called to Ascalon.
“Hm?!”
Khan felt the sword in his grip rattling. He held it with both hands, trying to keep it tight, but it wrenched itself from his grip and flew to its real master’s waiting hand.
“You…” Khan stared at Issei, baffled.
“Don’t know why you’re high on crack confidence. Don’t tell me your common sense ain’t up there because you’re just a piece?” Issei asked.
[He was always like this… but I digress.]
Ddraig sighed.
[They are not like Elsha or Belzard, after all. Most of them echo the emotions and desires they experience during their final years. Like lust for power for Khan.]
“Well… hope they still have their sense of reason. Alright, you assholes. Settle down and behave yourselves or else. The only reason you’re still in one piece is because I stopped that demon from grinding you all to powder. If any one of you feels the least bit grateful, stand down.”
Issei watched the shades contemplate, some exchanging glances, others still defiantly glaring at him.
“In a way, I should thank the Demon for waking us from our unfeeling nightmare…” Khan admitted. “But gratitude will not return me to life. The Great Khan will not be content in this void. And I have seen the women you gathered. Such youth and beauty deserves to be mine and mine alone. The Khan is the only bloodline that has the right to-”
Not having it, Issei fired his Norse Lightning at the swarm. Crackling plasma webbed and connected all of the shades in the chain of torment as their screams howled in the realm of Boosted Gear.
Issei stopped when he saw more than half broken down. The leader Khan wheezed, groveling on his hands and feet.
“You fucker, you’re really saying that shit to my face? Do I look like some helpless bitch to you?” Issei warned.
Khan looked up. The way he looked so enraged by his smug smile was quite satisfying.
He seethed at Issei with a face of pure hatred, the kind he saw from Diodora.
[I, who am about to awaken, am the Heavenly Dragon who has stolen the principle of domination from God!]
When Khan uttered the first forbidden verse, the others spoke in unison as if he took over their voices to join his dark chorus.
[We laugh-]
In a blink, Issei appeared before Khan and blasted a hole through Khan with his fist.
Khan coughed, blood dripping from his lips before Issei grabbed his throat and tore out his esophagus.
Khan’s jaw was obliterated, blown apart, gurgling.
[At the infinite-]
Issei went to the others and tore out their throats. They were not complete individuals. And he would not let them try this shit while he was here.
They were silenced.
Their jaws and throats were torn to shreds, shaded blood flying, all of their tongues exposed beneath their upper teeth and flapping gurgles.
“You fuckers crossed the line. I saved you all from being turned into slaves or worse, and this is how you bastards repay me?!” Issei shouted at them.
He understood that there were terrible people in this world that just could not be redeemed, but to think that his predecessors were just as hopeless as the souls that were damned to Hell.
So he killed them all. With his own hands. They were already shades in the end… dead things that just refused to die.
But they did not die.
Instead, they were regenerating, pieced back together, limbs reformed together or arms and legs regrown.
“…Okay, what the hell?” Issei frowned, “Ddraig, explain! Why the fuck are they regenerating like Riser?!”
Elsha answered, “They are fragments of souls that died experiencing extreme negative emotions, under the curse of Juggernaut Drive. Their existence is anchored to Boosted Gear and Ddraig whether he likes it or not. As long as they are within Boosted Gear, they cannot truly perish.”
“Why the fuck is that a thing?” Issei seethed.
“Balance Breaker and Juggernaut Drive are born from the emotions of the hosts. The immortality you see is their collective desire to live and resolve past regrets.” Belzard answered.
[-AND I FRET OVER THE DREAM-]
Issei electrified the ghosts with his lightning, then threw crimson destruction at them, refusing to let the bullshit get to him.
They reformed even faster from oblivion. It was honestly annoying, especially Khan as he continued the verse.
“As it is our destiny as those who usurp the principle of domination!” Khan bellowed as an ominous, blood red aura began to build up.
Issei did not relent. He summoned an exploding wave of the Power of Destruction, erasing their existences with crimson power.
They reformed moments later.
He used Kokabiel’s exploding stardust scattershot move, and they still came back. He Boosted while breathing dragonfire upon these bastards while his hands summoned his Norse Lightning, engulfing all of them in a tortuous world of fire and thunder.
He continued Boosting in the duration.
To think that Djall and the Phenex clan were bastards that refuse to die, this was a new type of irritation that Issei had never encountered.
To destroy them, Issei had to destroy Boosted Gear along the way or something along those lines.
[Explosion!]
At the word, the fire-lightning combo flared into a brilliant explosion of radiance.
Once it died, Issei rasped, panting a little from overexertion….
And the bastards reconstituted themselves.
They look like they endured hell, though. They definitely felt that one; but that would not stop them from finishing the chant.
[I SHALL BECOME THE RED DRAGON OF DOMINATION!]
“Fuuuck!” Issei summoned Chrysaor, closed the distance, and rammed it into Genghis Khan.
Issei glared right into Khan’s eyes while the shade burned.
Khan could not handle this pain – Burned by light that purges evil, that threatened to consume him more than what the flames of the Welsh Dragon could accomplish.
But he persisted with his ego and hatred – the dark hope to return to flesh greater than any agony, gambling their limited supply of willpower to overcome their situation. Even if they were immortal in this realm, they could still tire. They could suffer – they gambled everything they had in the hopes of returning to life through this host.
[And I… Shall sink you… to the depths of crimson purgatory!]
They finished their chant.
The realm turned red, crimson red. Issei clutched his chest as he felt a pulse echoing through him.
“Issei!” Ddraig called out, addressing his host and partner by his name in a rare moment of emotional distress.
Even if Ddraig burned them with his true dragonfire, they would reconstitute in this realm. To destroy them, they would have to destroy the space realm of Boosted Gear as well, something that Ddraig could not risk.
Though Ddraig was wagering on something.
Whether the Juggernaut Drive was still… operational. Which was why he didn’t do anything as nothing he could do would erase them from this world. And he could not eject them from Boosted Gear.
He tried.
Djall’s poison messed up a lot of features of Boosted Gear, and the spare parts did not have much of the same seals as Euclid does not have the burden of past users trapped in his copies.
“The curse is activated! Your body is ours!” Genghis and the others roared with victory that they managed to finish their chant despite the torment.
They waited for the reaction, where Boosted Gear would grant them control.
They waited… and waited…
The shades did not feel anything different. The sensation of Juggernaut Drive did not respond to the activation mantra.
But the boy still did transform.
From his throat, an unholy roar tore out of his throat and drowned the soul realm with his voice.
His demonic form instantly replaced his human form, imbricated armor and vicious face externalizing his wrath, a demon of rage and vengeance brought out.
For the second time since they were brought out of their ennui, they felt terror.
Even though they brought out the courage to withstand the flames of the Welsh Dragon, they clung onto the thing that gave them power and ended their stories with the hopes of returning to the world once more at the cost of the current host.
For Ddraig, something was wrong.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
The negative emotions and energy of the past users triggered something else.
It was not the Juggernaut Drive, nothing from the Boosted Gear.
The mantra brought something out of Issei instead of Boosted Gear as his aura, his power exploded from his demonic form and… started to condense and take almost-physical shape.
There was a purpose in this form of aura shrouding the current Issei, one which Ddraig was not used to.
The shape was abstract, yet magnified his presence was magnified because of this newfound Aura, like his size was many times bigger than it should be when gazing upon him.
And it was like the shroud of aura was wearing him in return… wearing the flesh within.
Issei’s voice was deep, growling. He raised his gaze as he stared directly into Khan, his Trihexa eyes revealing the reptilian slit pupils, the slit irises dilating in their focus.
“…Boy?” Elsha and Belzard could feel an escalation of negative energy emanating from Issei.
He answered with a roar as he moved.
Without warning, he tore Genghis Khan in half. Pried open in two perfect symmetry, all reason lost within his eyes as Issei moved like a phantom that flickers beyond the reach of sight and grabbed a boy.
He was the youngest Boosted Gear wielder in history.
The youngest to die by the Curse of Juggernaut Drive.
The boy’s eyes filled with ambition and dark hopes were replaced by primal fear as Issei’s demonic fangs opened.
And to Ddraig’s horror, bit off the boy’s head.
The others watched him feast on the boy with dread. The Aura that he exuded was mimicking his motions, abstract fire that had yet to take proper shape… though it was more like this Aura was puppeting Issei with each motion, a monster they have summoned in their greed for life.
And it finished devouring the boy with ease.
Genghis wheezed with panic, his two halves forcefully pieced together by sheer willpower. The old conqueror panted as he looked at the monster just when Issei descended upon the rest.
It was completely one sided. It was like the time when his tribe encountered a dragon during his invasions across China, men helplessly butchered under a greater might that transcends human limits, lightning called form the heavens and smiting the tiny humans like a giant to ants.
The shades screamed and panicked, the stockpiled courage and fortitude they invested from centuries of ennui already depleted as they scattered without direction like a swarm of headless chickens.
“Ugh… Kill him! KILL HIM! Do not let fear tear out your spiritsl!” Genghis Khan roared in desperation.
The shades exchanged glances, unsure how to react to that statement. Even if they could not die, they could still feel pain, and they were still fragments, things that fracture more easily than the whole.
As if challenging them, the demon fired a flash of crimson red lightning.
It instantly vaporized more than half of the shades, the rest crying out from the splashing electricity, falling and twitching helplessly, many were lying down for the demon to descend upon them.
As the genocide went on, the rest of those who allied with Issei – the Welsh Dragon, Elsha, Belzard and the dragons who had agreed to side with the former; could only watch helplessly.
Issei was enjoying himself in his twisted way, the aura-shrouded monster plucking their limbs from their sockets, some he grabbed by the legs and used them as living, screaming clubs that spilled blood, a wet sound spurting with every impact of flesh on flesh.
“He’s taking this too far. Did he really undergo a berserker’s rage without entering Juggernaut Drive?” Elsha asked as she readered her spear.
“The cycle of the two Dragon Emperors is broken.” Ddraig answered solemnly. “Not even I have all of the answers. We need to calm him down.”
It was ironic. The past users would always trigger the curse to bring the downfall of the current host… to see them being massacred because it was a sight to behold.
Almost cathartic in a way.
“I’m all for it, but the question is – how?” Elsha retorted.
“Let’s subdue him for now.” Belzard stepped forward and took the first initiative by charging into the fray.
“Ah, Belzard, wait!” Elsha cried out.
However, Belzard was immediately seized by the throat. Issei did not even give them any mind as his eyes were focused on Khan as he threw Belzard back to Elsha, the man tumbling to her feet.
Belzard blinked. He had the initiative. But the boy’s reflexes have skyrocketed to the point where he could handle them with ease.
“…Shit… This boy has outgrown us.” Elsha could not help but be proud of him to get to this point.
Ddraig narrowed his eyes at Issei when he approached and towards the prone Genghis Khan.
He grabbed one of his legs and stepped on his back, and he ripped it as if plucking a petal from the flower.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGH!?”
Issei did not stop. He tore out another leg and tossed it aside like litter on the sidewalk.
Ddraig could not watch this anymore when Issei plucked his arm.
Honestly, while he wanted Khan to suffer the fires of Hell, he did not want to see his host becoming Khan’s tormentor.
“…Partner…” Ddraig could not believe that he was about to do this. “I remember the time when you were a smaller thing. A child that spoke his dream of beating up the red dragon… The things you said you would do once you win against me… you braggart.”
The mighty red dragon approached the demon.
The demon stopped. He sidelong glanced at Ddraig. His demonic eyes gazed into a pair of draconic orbs.
He could read his intent.
Do you really want to do this? One last chance to back down.
The rest of others could only watch as the demonic visage of Issei Hyoudou became eerily silent and actually looked down, as if pondering his next choice of action over Ddraig’s words.
The next thing they knew, the malevolent atmosphere subsided as the demonic form seemed like sighing, and the entire realm was basked in a deep crimson light.
To be Continued….
Omake: The Return of Urist
“I HAVE ESCAPED FROM THE FOUL CLUTCHES OF THAT BEERLESS HELL! NOW I SHALL WHOPPER EVER KNIFE-EARED BITCH I SEE! STARTING WITH QUEEN BITCH!”
Urist proclaimed, the dwarf raising both of his arms before the group as he left the cells more spirited than ever.
“Oh, wow. You’re way louder in person.” Issei snarked.
“And who the fack are you supposed to be?!” Urist roared at Issei.
He was with Kiyome and Titania in regards to dealing with diplomatic issues.
Especially with Svarthelheim possibly enacting raging dwarven vengeance due to their familial culture.
“Issei Hyoudou. Uhhhh, I’m a friend of Kiyome… and Kiba.”
“YOU DARE SAY BITCH BOY’S NAME?!”
Issei leaned back on reflex. He suddenly felt like he should not have replied, but the dwarf was already raging at him, “Uh… yeah. He didn’t tell me much about his time together with you…”
“Ohhhhhh! Just remembering the man-whore makes me blood boil to bloody vapors! Tell that bitch boy to prepare his sword-eating sphincter! If the boy wench dares to make another abomination of creation, we’re gonna bitch hunt his horny arse! And it IS what you think! I replaced the fucking W with a B!”
Issei could not help but laugh at the threat, “…Good God, man.”
He should definitely have Black meet this guy.
“So what’s different from a witch hunt?”
“I’m glad you asked! I’m gonna chop down those skinny knees down to size! Then I’m gonna hammer his wee wee into paste and shove a buttplug so big it’ll make a giant blush! And then I’m gonna hammer what’s left of that wimpy bitch ass in me forge, and make him into a sword just to prove a facking point! And it’ll still be MANY times better than those pieces of shitsticks he shat out of his arse hole!”
Issei blinked, barely able to catch up with Urist’s colorful choice of words.
“…Cool.” Issei nodded absentmindedly, “Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. Good luck, I guess?”
Issei then scooted closer to Kiyome and Titania – who had been watching the exchange, and whispered, “…Um, where are we gonna send him to?”
“It is in my honor to escort him to Svarthelheim… if he is convinced that he will not enact vengeance upon my sister for her… misguided ways.” Titania smiled awkwardly. “If not, I think I will send him to Midgard to that ‘Bitch Boy’ friend of yours to keep him busy until time tempered his rage.”
Issei contemplated Titania’s answer – on one hand, he felt bad for the Knight; but assuming the dwarf before him would still hold a grudge on the Dark Elf Matriarch for a long while… Well, putting one’s life for a woman in peril should have been within Yuuto’s alley.
“Anyways, good to see you again, me horny Japan friend.” Urist turned to the beast-tamer in the room in a sudden mood shift.
“Oh for the love of-! Stop calling me that!” Kiyome blushed and shouted at the dwarf. Issei nearly spluttered into laughter as she did not say anything about Urist’s funny naming sense.
“How are ye doing? Did ye show the Bitch Queen her place? Since I am free and all.”
“Um… well, yeah.” Kiyome awkwardly answered. “Say, what are you going to do once you get back home?”
“Oh, that is not hard! I’m gonna rally me brothers and sisters! And we’re gonna wage ALL OUT FACKING WAR AGAINST THE KNIFE EARS FOR THIS SLIGHT! We’re gonna raze everything until it makes Helheim look lively and colorful! We’re gonna burn this place until it makes Muspelheim look cold! We’re gonna NUKE this this place until it becomes the facking sun! We’re gonna stack mountain of knife-ear skulls all the way past Jotenheim’s finger mountain!”
They stared at the dwarf in response to his threat to nuke Alfheim to oblivion and back.
“…You know all she did was lock you up, right? Is that really something to commit genocide for?” Issei remarked.
“It is the facking principle that matters, boy! That Bitch lied to me and planned to turn me into her slave! She broke a promise, and I’m not gonna let that slide even if the world tree is torn in two!”
“…How about we just give you all of the alcohol we can ransack from her private stash and then call it even?” Kiyome suggested.
“You think that is enough to wipe out her name from me Book of Grudges?! You think mere alcohol can wipe the slate clean between us?!”
XoX
“CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG! DON’T YE FUCKIN’ DARE STOP!”
Urist demanded before he grabbed a barrel of elven wine and gluggled it down through the opening like an oversized soda can.
Kiyome and Issei ‘chugged’ down another bottle from Sycorax’s private wine collection.
Apparently, dwarven custom demands that to appease them, they must join the dwarf’s merry and prove themselves worthy of surviving and thriving in their customs.
In other words – a drinking competition.
Urist had proven himself to have a resilient liver to remain conscious even after the 20th bottle – the number that was also matched by both Kiyome and Issei.
After they drank Sycorax’s wine collection dry, they moved to Andlang to continue their drinking frenzy.
“Keep going, you horny buggers! BRING ME THE GOOD SHIT!” Urist threw his barrel aside and ransacked another.
At this point, one had to wonder where he stored all of that liquid in that stocky body of his.
It was the first time Issei drank this much poison. Honestly, his mother would probably kill him if she found out he was drinking this much. Thankfully, the regenerative factor within him – the trait that Kiyome also possessed, helped in detoxifying the alcohol from messing with their system.
In other words, Issei and Kiyome could no longer get drunk.
It took them quite a while to get the dwarf slightly drunk and start his rambling phase.
“It… *hiccup… I don’t mean anything by… by wanting to hunt Bitch Boy down… It’s just… seeing him waste such a precious tool like that in such… a wastefhul manner… FUCKING MAKES ME MAD!”
It took a hundred bottles and a number of barrels to finally simmer the dwarf down. Only to stoke it back up high.
“He can make any fucking sword with his wee mind… BUT HE CAN’T MAKE SHIT! I CAN’T STAND… *hiccup… TO SEE SOMEONE SO SHITE WORK WITH SOMETHING SO GOOD!”
“Yeah… There, there, good sir, let it all out.” Issei said patronizingly while patting Urist’s back, while hoping for the moment to be over.
Alcohol-proof he might be, but he still had more important things to do than accompanying a foul-mouthed drunk.
“Come, sir Urist, have some more.” Kiyome seemed to share the same opinion as she offered more wine – the last bottle so the dwarf could pass out sooner.
“Ugggh…. I still want to impale his girly ass. Why does he look so facking girly?! I can tell from looking at his facking face that his dick is smaller than me thumb!”
Issei only broke into a snorting snicker at that remark. Hell, Issei would laugh at Yuuto if that were to be true.
“I want to be a hard teacher for that lad, but he’s just so, SOOOOOOOOO BITCHY! He’s so facking indecisive that I can’t help but RAGE! FACK! And that masturbation tool of his, I know she wants his finger dick, but HE JUST WON’T DO IT! True horny pervert, but he’s a total PANSY! I’m gonna smash his dick off and replace it with a cock of Adamantine at this rate! But I swear that even with literal balls of metal, he will still be a cowardly bitch!”
Kiyome was starting to feel uncomfortable with the dick-related remarks, as Issei was feeling awkward as well. Moreover, they were running out of the drink to keep Urist busy.
“He needs ta MAN UP! If I… ever see him again… I’m gonna show him how we dwarves do it! The right way! I’m gonna drag him to Svarthelheim by the legs! I’m gonna make him break his twig arms hammering until the end of time to get it right! And I’m gonna… gonna…”
However, the dwarf in question began to lose his balance on his seat, and it only took a few more seconds until he doubled over and lost consciousness as soon as he hit the unforgiving floor.
Seeing that the dwarf would not get up anytime soon, Issei and Kiyome sighed in relief.
“Oh, thank fucking god it’s finally over.” Kiyome slumped on the table.
“You tell me.” Issei replied as his posture slacked. He honestly could use a drink himself… Only there was no drink left around.
Actually, he could go for water at this point. He was rubbing his tingly throat, parched for actual drinking liquid to sip.
“Anyway, let’s ship this guy back to wherever he came from.” Kiyome finally got herself back on her feet, “…And make sure that he won’t remember anything about Alfheim for a while.”
Issei also followed suit, “Sure, I’ll come up with something.”
I just received one of the biggest brain-farts when writing the story; turns out we’ve been mixing up Murasame and Masamune – the latter is the blacksmith. Whoops :p
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE
