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Chapter 45 - Chapter 45 Reaction

Author Note: Sorry for the long break, I was in a dump with depression(still is) after losing my mom. They say time will heal, but it's almost a year and I still couldn't quite move on with my life.

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Heaven – Seraphic Chambers

The air shimmered with gentle divinity. Sunlight, unbound by time or season, poured endlessly through vaulted windows etched with sacred runes. At the heart of the radiant cathedral stood a tall figure cloaked in resplendent white robes, six pair of wings folded behind his back—Archangel Michael, the current leader of Heaven.

Before him, two figures knelt in reverence.

"…And that concludes our report, Lord Michael," Xenovia said, lowering her gaze. "The stolen Excalibur fragments and the Saint's Coffin have been successfully retrieved."

"There were minor complications," Irina added with a sheepish smile. "But no casualties on our side. Though…"

Michael's serene expression remained calm, though his curiosity flickered faintly. "But?"

The two young warriors exchanged a glance.

"There was… a human," Xenovia said carefully. "One not affiliated with the Church, or the Devils, as far as we know."

"He didn't just intervened into the battle," Irina added, her voice carrying a note of awe. "He ended it. Freed, the corrupted priest, was overwhelmed in seconds. The dragon, or whatever that thing he became stood no chance against that human."

Michael's brow furrowed slightly. "A human did this?"

"Yes," Xenovia nodded. "His name is Kousuke Igarashi. A Japanese high school student living in Kuoh Town."

"But…" Irina hesitated, eyes uncertain. "There's something strange about him. He's no doubt human, but he fought like he wasn't. He was fast, powerful, and what's more…"

"He doesn't use Holy or Demonic power," Xenovia continued. "No Sacred Gear we could identify. And yet…"

"He walked through that corrupted dragon's flames like it was nothing, not even a scratch on him," Irina whispered with shaken voice. If she was the one standing at the center of it, there would be nothing left of her.

Michael closed his eyes in contemplation. For a long moment, silence hung heavy in the celestial chamber.

"A human with unknown origin," he murmured, almost to himself. "One who can casually overcomed and defeats a failed artificial dragon and a corrupted Sacred Gear wielder at the same time…"

He opened his eyes again, calm but sharp.

"Such individuals do not appear by chance. Especially not in these times."

"Does My Lord…has a guess of his identity?" Irina asked, her curiosity barely restrained.

Michael slowly shook his head. "No. But I sense a strange echo from him. Not of sin, nor of holiness… but something ancient."

"Ancient?" Xenovia asked, she thought for a moment. "Is he the reincarnation of a powerful Hero?"

"Possibly." His voice lowered. "Or… a Wanderer."

The two young women fell silent, struck by the implication of something they couldn't understand yet the heavy tone in his voice was impactful.

Michael turned, walking toward the great window behind him. Below, endless clouds parted around towers of divine light.

"There are those in the shadows who would move heaven and earth for power. We have already lost much in our last war. We cannot allow a second."

He turned slightly, wings glowing faintly in the ambient light.

"Continue to observe. Do not engage him directly. But if this Kousuke Igarashi is indeed what I think he is…"

A faint, knowing yet tiring look crossed his face.

"Then the balance may soon shift again."

...

A Certain Luxurious Bar – Somewhere in the Human World

Soft jazz filtered through the air, mixing with the gentle clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of laughter. The bar's lighting was dim, atmospheric, the velvet seats filled with gorgeous women attending to their patrons. It was the kind of place where politics didn't exist—unless the guests decided otherwise.

"I swear, this world's gotten more interesting lately," said Odin, his long white beard bouncing as he laughed heartily. The Norse god of wisdom and war leaned back in his chair, a scantily clad waitress feeding him grapes from a silver tray.

Across from him sat Azazel, the Governor of the Grigori. Unlike his usual easygoing self, his brow was furrowed as he swirled a glass of amber liquid, his thoughts clearly far from the show around him.

"Normally, I'd agree," Azazel said, "but lately, things have been a little too interesting."

"Oh?" Odin raised a curious brow. "This about the dragon fiasco the other day? The one the Church lost their toy coffin over?"

Azazel downed his drink. "That's part of it. But more than that… a certain human took down the artificial dragon and the corrupted Sacred Gear user in one go. And not by some magical spells nor holy sword. He just walked up and beat it with overwhelming physical strength."

Odin blinked, momentarily pausing his flirtation with a waitress.

"A human?" he echoed. "Not a devil, not an angel, not even one of your fallen?"

"Not affiliated with anyone. No Sacred Gear, no divine blessing. No trace of Holy or Demonic energy. And he still tore through that piece of work like paper."

Odin whistled low. "Well, that's certainly not normal."

Azazel leaned forward, serious. "No, it's not. Michael's aware. So are the Devils. And based on the movements I've been seeing lately... so is someone else."

He paused.

"There's another faction moving in the dark, Odin. One I haven't seen in centuries. They're not part of the Hero Faction, and they don't answer to any known pantheon."

Odin stroked his beard thoughtfully, then snapped his fingers. A moment later, a tall woman in a sharp gray uniform with silver hair and striking violet eyes approached their table—Rossweisse.

"You called, Lord Odin?" she asked, voice perfectly polite but betraying a faint exasperation as she eyed the girls clinging to her lord's arm.

"Rossweisse, my dear," Odin said, grinning, "I'm assigning you to Earth for a while. There's someone we'd like you to observe—goes by the name Kousuke Igarashi. A very curious human."

"Understood," she replied immediately. Then blinked. "Wait… A human?"

"He's not just any human," Azazel cut in. "We think he might be... something else entirely. If nothing else, we want to know where he stands."

"And," Odin added with a chuckle, "who knows? Maybe you'll finally find yourself a husband, eh? You've been single for far too long!"

Rossweisse flushed a deep crimson. "L-Lord Odin! That's not—! This is a serious assignment!"

Azazel smirked, letting the tension lighten. "You'll fit right in, Rossweisse. Try not to scare him too badly." He didn't mention that she might be the one getting the scare, the corner of his lips curled up at the thought.

"I am professional," she muttered under her breath, but the tips of her ears were still red.

As she walked away to prepare for departure, Odin leaned closer to Azazel, his tone dropping slightly.

"Jokes aside… if a human like this exists, it might not be long before others come sniffing. Chaos follows power."

Azazel nodded grimly. "That's what I'm afraid of. Especially with someone like that witch lurking in the shadows. She had already stirred the pot once… and I doubt she's done."

The two powerful beings sat in silence for a moment, their expressions now more akin to drinking friends than God of Wisdom and the Leader of Fallen.

Odin raised his drink.

"To interesting times."

Azazel clinked his glass against the god's.

"To a storm that's coming."

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