1
# Red Dragon Sovereign: Rise of the True Harem King
## Chapter 1: The Death That Wasn't
Issei Hyoudou stared at the fountain in Kuoh City Park, nervously adjusting the collar of his school uniform for the dozenth time. The evening air carried a sweet floral scent, cherry blossoms beginning their annual bloom. In any other circumstance, it would have been the perfect romantic setting.
"She's actually going to show up, right?" he muttered to himself, checking his watch again. "Yuuma-chan wouldn't stand me up..."
His mind drifted back to the previous day, when a cute girl with long black hair had approached him on his way home from school.
"Excuse me... you're Issei Hyoudou, right?" she'd asked, her voice soft and hesitant.
He had been so startled that an actual girl—and a pretty one at that—knew his name that he'd simply stared at her for several seconds before managing a stuttered "Y-yes?"
"My name is Yuuma Amano," she'd continued, a delicate blush coloring her cheeks. "I've seen you pass by here a few times, and... well... would you please go out with me?"
The memory still seemed surreal. Girls didn't ask Issei Hyoudou out. Girls avoided Issei Hyoudou, whispered about his perverted tendencies behind his back, and occasionally threw gym equipment at him when he and his friends were caught peeping. Girls certainly didn't blush and stammer while asking him on dates.
Yet here he was, waiting for his very first girlfriend.
"Issei-kun!"
He turned at the sound of her voice, and his heart skipped a beat. Yuuma was wearing a light pink dress that accentuated her slender figure, her long black hair cascading down her back. She looked even prettier than he remembered.
"Yuuma-chan!" he called, waving perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. "You look amazing!"
She smiled, hurrying over to him. "Sorry I'm late! Did you wait long?"
"Not at all," he lied, not wanting to admit he'd arrived thirty minutes early out of sheer nervousness. "I just got here myself."
"I'm so glad," she said, linking her arm with his in a gesture that nearly caused his brain to short-circuit. "Where should we go first?"
The date that followed was everything Issei had dreamed his first date would be. They browsed shops in the mall, shared crepes at a small café, and even visited a photo booth where Yuuma insisted on taking silly pictures together. Through it all, Issei kept waiting for the other shoe to drop—for her to reveal this was all a prank, or for one of his classmates to jump out with a camera, laughing at his gullibility.
But it never happened. Yuuma seemed genuinely interested in him, giggling at his jokes and listening attentively when he talked about his hobbies (carefully edited to exclude his more perverted pastimes).
As evening fell, they found themselves back at the park, the setting sun painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.
"I had a wonderful time today, Issei-kun," Yuuma said, her voice soft as she led him toward the fountain.
"Me too," Issei replied, hardly believing his luck. "Maybe we could do this again sometime?"
"Before that..." Yuuma stopped, turning to face him. The dying sunlight created a halo effect around her silhouette. "Would you do something for me? To commemorate our first date?"
Issei's heart raced. Was this it? His first kiss? He'd read enough dating sims to know this was the perfect moment.
"Anything," he breathed.
Yuuma smiled, stepping closer. "Would you die for me?"
The words didn't register at first. They were so at odds with the romantic atmosphere that his brain simply refused to process them.
"Sorry, what did you say?" he asked with an awkward laugh. "I think I misheard—"
"I said," her voice dropped to a whisper as she leaned in close to his ear, "would you die for me?"
Before Issei could respond, the world around him transformed. Yuuma's body began to change—she grew taller, her eyes hardened, and from her back erupted two massive black feathered wings. Her sweet pink dress dissolved, replaced by leather straps that barely covered her now more mature figure.
"Y-Yuuma-chan?" Issei stammered, stumbling backward.
"Yuuma doesn't exist, you pathetic human," she laughed, her voice lower and crueler than before. "My name is Raynare, and I'm a fallen angel."
"Fallen angel?" Issei repeated dumbly, his mind struggling to comprehend the impossible transformation. "But... our date..."
"Did you really think someone like me would be interested in someone like you?" Raynare sneered. "How amusing. I was simply ordered to keep an eye on you in case your sacred gear awakened. But after spending the day with you, I can tell it's not worth the trouble. You're too weak, too ordinary."
As she spoke, glowing light gathered in her hand, forming into a spear of pure energy. "And weak, ordinary humans with useless sacred gears need to be eliminated before they cause problems."
"I don't understand," Issei protested, backing away. "What's a sacred gear? Why are you doing this?"
"You don't need to understand," Raynare replied, her violet eyes cold. "You just need to die."
With a fluid motion, she hurled the light spear directly at his stomach. Issei, having no combat training and caught completely off-guard, couldn't even attempt to dodge. The spear pierced through him, the pain unlike anything he'd ever experienced—burning, tearing, consuming.
He collapsed to his knees, blood pouring from the wound as Raynare's laughter echoed in his ears.
"Pathetic," she said, landing gracefully beside him as her wings folded against her back. "You know what the worst part is? That worried look on your face. Even now, you're still hoping this is all some mistake, aren't you? Still think your precious 'Yuuma-chan' might come back?"
Issei couldn't answer. His mouth filled with blood as he slumped sideways onto the cold pavement. His vision darkened around the edges, consciousness slipping away bit by bit.
"Let me make this perfectly clear before you die," Raynare continued, crouching down to look him in the eyes. "Everything was fake. The shy girl act, the blushes, the laughter—all of it was to get close to you. And you fell for it so easily! One lonely boy so desperate for female attention that he never once questioned why a pretty girl would suddenly ask him out."
Each word struck deeper than the light spear had. As his life ebbed away, Issei realized she was right. He'd been so pathetically eager to believe that someone could like him that he'd ignored all common sense.
"If it's any consolation," Raynare added, standing up and spreading her wings, "your sacred gear was so worthless that killing you was probably a mercy. Now you won't have to live knowing how truly insignificant you are."
With those parting words, she launched herself into the darkening sky, leaving Issei bleeding out beside the fountain where their date had begun.
As consciousness faded, fractured thoughts tumbled through Issei's mind—his parents who would never know what happened to their only son, his friends who would probably search the porn sites for his legacy, the dreams he'd never fulfill...
"I just... wanted... to become... a Harem King..." he whispered, blood bubbling from his lips.
The absurdity of it struck him then, dying with such a ridiculous unfulfilled dream. What kind of idiot aspires to be a "Harem King" anyway? Just another indicator of how pathetic his short life had been.
Yet as darkness closed in, that one desire burned brighter than anything else. Not just the perverted aspects of the fantasy—though those were certainly present—but something deeper. A desire to be worthy of love, to be respected, to transform from the perverted nobody into someone who mattered.
"I... will... become... a... Harem... King!" he gasped, each word requiring monumental effort.
As his heart gave its final beat, something ancient stirred within his dying soul. Deep in the recesses of his being, a presence that had slumbered for generations awakened—the Red Dragon Emperor, Ddraig, sealed within the Boosted Gear.
But it wasn't Ddraig's power alone that responded to Issei's final wish.
No—it was something far older, something hidden even from the dragon's knowledge. A forgotten inheritance in his bloodline, a ritual of summoning that transcended dimensional barriers.
*[The Mythos Summoning Ritual.]*
The words appeared in his mind like burning text, ancient and powerful. As his body surrendered to death, Issei's soul erupted with crimson and golden light, shattering the boundaries between realms.
The park exploded with blinding radiance, cracks appearing in the air as if reality itself were breaking. Through these fractures poured streams of golden energy, coalescing into thirteen distinct forms around Issei's motionless body. The ground beneath him cratered from the pressure of multiple dimensions converging at a single point.
From across myth, legend, and time—the impossible answered his dying wish.
## Chapter 2: The Summoning
Raynare had barely made it fifty meters from her kill when the night turned to day behind her. The sudden flare of light was so intense that it cast her shadow forward despite the darkness, like a photographic negative of reality. She whirled around, eyes widening at the column of golden radiance erupting from where she'd left Issei's body.
"What the—"
The shockwave hit her first, sending her tumbling through the air like a leaf in a hurricane. When she finally regained control of her flight and looked back, she couldn't believe what she was seeing.
In the center of a newly formed crater stood Issei Hyoudou—very much alive, his wound completely healed, crimson light pulsing from his left arm in rhythmic waves that matched his heartbeat. But it wasn't his miraculous recovery that made her blood run cold.
It was the thirteen figures surrounding him in a perfect circle, each radiating power that dwarfed anything she had ever encountered. Even from this distance, the pressure of their collective presence made it difficult to breathe, as if the very air had become heavy with ancient magic.
"Impossible," she whispered, instinctively retreating further.
Within the circle, Issei slowly opened his eyes, confusion replacing the pain that had consumed him moments before. He blinked, trying to make sense of the scene around him. Wasn't he supposed to be dead? The memory of Raynare's light spear piercing his abdomen was still vivid, yet he felt no pain, only a strange warmth emanating from his left arm and an odd sense of... fullness, as if something that had always been missing was suddenly restored.
The first figure he noticed was a woman standing directly in front of him. She wore an elaborate crimson dress with golden trim that seemed to catch and amplify the mysterious light surrounding them. Her blonde hair was styled in an intricate updo adorned with a rose-shaped hairpin, and she carried herself with such regal bearing that Issei found himself straightening his posture instinctively.
"Umu!" the woman exclaimed, her voice musical and commanding. "So you are the one who has summoned the Emperor of Roses! I, Nero Claudius, fifth Emperor of Rome, have answered your call, my beloved star and emperor of desire!"
Her emerald eyes sparkled with genuine delight as she examined Issei from head to toe, circling him once before nodding in approval.
"A diamond in the rough, to be sure, but I can see the potential! Yes, with proper imperial guidance, you shall shine brilliantly!" She reached out, patting his cheek with surprising familiarity. "We shall make you worthy of the title 'emperor' yet!"
Before Issei could formulate a response to this utterly bewildering introduction, another woman stepped forward from his right. This one's severe beauty was accentuated by the silvery armor she wore beneath a modest blue dress. Though she carried no visible weapon, Issei somehow knew she was armed—power radiating from her like heat from the sun.
"I am Artoria Pendragon, King of Knights," she stated with quiet dignity, her emerald eyes assessing him carefully. "Though this summoning is most unusual, I recognize the nobility in your spirit. Your dream may seem frivolous to some, but the heart behind it burns with a determination worthy of a king's respect."
Unlike Nero's enthusiastic approval, Artoria's words carried a sense of measured evaluation—as if she were reserving final judgment until she could determine his true character.
"King of Knights?" Issei repeated, his voice barely a whisper. "Like... King Arthur?"
A slight smile curved Artoria's lips. "In a manner of speaking, yes. Though history has often misrepresented certain details."
Issei's jaw dropped as more figures began to introduce themselves, each stepping forward in turn to form a smaller circle around him.
A multi-armed goddess with radiant bronze skin stepped forward next, weapons of various kinds held in her many hands while a magnificent tiger crouched at her side. Her bearing was simultaneously fierce and protective, like a mother prepared to destroy anything that threatened her children.
"I am Durga, Goddess of War and Protection," she announced, her voice resonating with divine authority. "Your spirit called to me across the divine realms—a mortal who refuses to submit to fate's decree. For this audacity alone, I shall lend you my strength."
Her multiple eyes—two human, plus a mystical third eye in the center of her forehead—studied Issei with ancient wisdom. "There is much to forge in you, young one. Your body is weak, but your spirit... your spirit has potential beyond measure."
Next came a woman whose beauty was as cold as winter, draped in dark fabrics that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Atop her head rested a crown of antlers that somehow shifted between physical form and shadow depending on how one looked at them. The air around her crackled with arcane energy.
"Morgan le Fay," she said simply, her voice like silk over steel. "Dark Queen of Avalon. How curious that a boy whose dreams are so... simple... would have the power to tear through the veil of worlds. You interest me, Issei Hyoudou. The script of your fate refuses to submit to divine authority."
She reached out with one pale hand, fingertips stopping just short of touching his chest where Raynare's light spear had pierced him. "Death rejected you. Or perhaps you rejected death. Either way, such defiance merits observation."
A woman with dual swords and an infectious smile stepped up next, her clothes an unusual mix of traditional Japanese garb and more practical fighting attire. What stood out most about her was the casual way she moved—fluid and relaxed, yet Issei somehow knew she could strike with lethal precision in the blink of an eye.
"Miyamoto Musashi here!" she announced cheerfully, sheathing her swords to offer him a friendly wave. "Master of the dual-sword style and undefeated duelist!" She circled Issei, eyeing him with frank appraisal that made him simultaneously nervous and flattered. "Hmm, not much to look at yet, but I sense potential! The heart of a warrior sleeps within you—I'll help you draw it out!"
Without warning, she poked his ribs with a finger, causing him to yelp in surprise. "Reflexes need work. Muscle tone basically non-existent. But your eyes..." She leaned in close, studying his face intently. "Your eyes have the fire. That's good! Can't teach that part."
The ground trembled slightly as another figure approached—a woman of unearthly beauty with jewels adorning her form and an elaborate headdress that seemed to shift between solid gold and pure light. Power crackled around her like lightning, and she carried herself with such confidence that even the other legendary figures seemed to give her additional space.
"I am Ishtar, Goddess of Love and War," she announced, her voice echoing with otherworldly authority. "You have pulled me from my heavenly throne with your absurd wish. I should destroy you for such impudence..." Her expression softened slightly, transforming from divine outrage to amused interest. "But the sheer audacity of your desire amuses me. Perhaps I shall see if you are worthy of such grand dreams."
She tossed her hair, the movement causing the jewels in her headdress to catch the light. "Besides, this realm seems... interesting. It has been some time since I walked among mortals."
Laughter, sharp and triumphant, cut through the night as another woman stepped forward. She wore a distinctive military uniform with a striking red and black color scheme, a cape of crimson draped over her shoulders. Despite her relatively small stature, she exuded such overwhelming presence that she seemed to fill the space around her.
"Oda Nobunaga, the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven!" she declared, resting a rifle on her shoulder with casual confidence. "You, boy—you who dreams so foolishly and grandly—you remind me of myself! The fool-king who will rewrite heaven and hell for his dream. Ha! This might actually be entertaining!"
She circled Issei once, her crimson eyes gleaming with mischievous intelligence. "They told you your dream was impossible, didn't they? That you were reaching beyond your station?" Her grin widened. "Good! The best dreams are the ones everyone tells you to abandon. Those are the dreams worth fighting for!"
A tall, voluptuous woman with purple hair moved next, her gentle smile at odds with the massive weapon she carried effortlessly in one hand. Her kimono, elegant and traditional, somehow accentuated rather than concealed her formidable figure, and her eyes held a warmth that immediately put Issei at ease.
"Minamoto no Raikou," she introduced herself with a graceful bow. "I shall serve as both your protector and guide, Issei-sama. Under my care, you will grow into the strongest sovereign among men." Her smile turned slightly possessive as she reached out to touch his hair with maternal affection. "I will personally ensure it."
"Thank you?" Issei managed, increasingly overwhelmed by the procession of legendary figures addressing him. The way Raikou looked at him was simultaneously comforting and slightly unnerving—motherly, yet somehow not entirely maternal in nature.
Another figure emerged from the light—a woman with crimson eyes and pale blonde hair that caught the moonlight like spun silver. Her presence was somehow both human and inhuman at once, familiar yet alien in a way Issei couldn't quite define. She moved with predatory grace, studying everything around her with evident curiosity.
"Arcueid Brunestud," she said simply, examining her surroundings with interest before her gaze settled on Issei. "True Ancestor. I don't usually answer summons, but something about your soul resonated with the predator in me. Your desire to rule hearts... it's similar to a vampire's hunger, yet fundamentally different. Fascinating."
She smiled, revealing teeth that seemed just slightly too sharp to be entirely human. "You hunger for love rather than blood. An interesting variation on the predatory instinct."
The ground shook violently as another stepped forward—a woman in golden armor that reflected the light with almost blinding intensity. Her blonde hair defied gravity, standing up in proud spikes, and her red eyes gleamed with both fury and imperious pride. The very air around her shimmered with power as golden ripples appeared in the space behind her.
"How DARE you summon me, the King of Heroes!" she thundered, golden portals opening behind her like windows into some impossible treasure vault. "Gilgamesh bows to no one! And yet..." Her expression shifted slightly, furious outrage giving way to begrudging interest. "I see in you a vault of dreams that might rival my own treasury. For this alone, I shall observe your growth, mongrel."
She crossed her arms, the movement causing her golden armor to catch the light. "Consider yourself fortunate. Were you any less interesting, I would have eliminated you for your presumption in calling me here."
From the shadows stepped a woman in a skintight bodysuit that accentuated her athletic figure. Her hair was a deep purple tied in a practical ponytail, and she carried a crimson spear that seemed to hum with deadly promise. Unlike many of the others, her expression remained composed and unreadable as she evaluated Issei with cool precision.
"I am Scathach, Queen of the Land of Shadows, teacher of heroes," she stated, her ageless eyes revealing nothing of her thoughts. "Death cannot claim me, and now, it seems, it cannot claim you either. You dare to dream so foolishly against all odds..." A hint of a smile curved her lips. "Perhaps you are worth teaching."
She moved closer, the tip of her spear coming to rest gently against Issei's chest, directly over his heart. "But know this—my training is not for the faint of heart. If you cannot endure, you will break. If you break, you are not worthy of our service."
The very air seemed to warp and distort as another figure materialized—a woman of impossible proportions, her upper body humanoid with features of heartbreaking beauty, while her lower body morphed into something primal and monstrous, scales shifting and flowing like liquid metal. Despite her terrifying aspect, her face bore a strangely tender expression as she regarded Issei.
"Tiamat," she crooned, her voice simultaneously terrifying and soothing, like the deepest ocean depths given voice. "Mother of All Monsters. You, child of dreams, have called to the primal waters of creation. I shall nurture you as my own, until you grow into the mythic sovereign you were meant to be."
She reached out with hands that seemed almost too delicate for her massive form, gently cupping Issei's face. "All life began in water, little one. And all dreams begin in the heart. I shall help your dream take form, as I once gave form to the first creatures of this world."
Finally, a woman with flowing white hair and eyes of infinite depth stepped forward. Multiple rings adorned her fingers, each pulsing with different energies, and wisdom seemed etched into every line of her face. When she spoke, her voice carried both the weight of ages and the clarity of pure understanding.
"I am Solomon, Queen of Magic and Time," she said, her voice calm yet resonating with knowledge beyond mortal comprehension. "Your spirit challenges destiny with pure, relentless will. Such determination deserves guidance from one who has peered into the infinite possibilities of fate."
She raised one hand, and complex magical circuits briefly appeared in the air around them both. "The threads of your destiny have been severed and rewoven in a pattern I have never before witnessed. Fascinating. The ritual you have enacted was thought lost even in my era."
Issei stood frozen in the center of these legendary beings, his brain struggling to process what was happening. These weren't just beautiful women—they were powers beyond his comprehension, beings from myth and legend whose very existence defied everything he thought he knew about reality.
And they were all looking at him.
"W-what's going on?" he finally managed to stammer. "Am I dead? Is this heaven?"
Nero laughed, the sound like silver bells. "Heaven? No, my emperor! This is far better! You have enacted the Mythos Summoning Ritual—a magic thought lost to the ages. We are bound to you now, tied to your fate and your dream!"
"Bound?" Issei repeated weakly.
"Indeed," Solomon confirmed, her voice serene despite the magnitude of what she was explaining. "The ritual has created an Eternal Oath between us. We cannot move beyond 150 meters from you without experiencing severe pain and fate backlash. Our existences are now intertwined with yours. If you thrive, we thrive. If you fall, we fall."
"And we must assist you," added Artoria, her tone suggesting she was still coming to terms with this arrangement, "in achieving your heart's deepest dream—to become the true 'Harem King.'"
"Though some of us find this directive... questionable," Morgan commented dryly, one eyebrow arched in sardonic amusement.
Issei's eyes widened further as understanding dawned. "My dream... to become the Harem King... you're all going to help me?"
"It appears so," Scathach said with a slight smirk. "Though I suspect your understanding of what constitutes a 'Harem King' may evolve under our tutelage."
"But why me?" Issei asked, the question bursting forth from the confusion swirling in his mind. "I'm nobody. I'm just... I'm just a perverted high school student with no special talents. Why would beings like you answer my call?"
The legendary figures exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them.
"The ritual requires certain... prerequisites," Durga explained, her multiple arms shifting positions as she spoke. "A soul on the threshold between life and death. A bloodline connection to ancient magic. And most importantly, a wish of absolute sincerity—a desire so pure and uncompromising that it can pierce the veil between worlds."
"Your dream, as juvenile as it might appear on the surface, contains within it something profound," Tiamat added, her voice rippling like deep waters. "To be loved, to be worthy of love, to build a realm where your dreams can flourish—these are ancient desires that resonate across dimensions."
"Also," Musashi chimed in cheerfully, "you're the descendant of an ancient dragon-human bloodline that carried the potential for this ritual. So, you know, genetics played a part too!"
"Dragon-human bloodline?" Issei repeated, looking down at his left arm where crimson light still pulsed beneath his skin. "Is that why Raynare mentioned something called a sacred gear?"
"Ah, yes. The Boosted Gear," Solomon nodded, her eyes focusing on his arm. "One of the thirteen Longinus—sacred gears of immense power. Yours contains the spirit of the Welsh Dragon, Ddraig, one of the Two Heavenly Dragons. It grants the power to double your strength every ten seconds without limit."
"I have something like that?" Issei stared at his arm in wonder.
"Indeed," Tiamat confirmed. "It has awakened alongside the Mythos Summoning Ritual, creating... an unprecedented situation."
From high above, Raynare had been watching this impossible scene unfold with growing horror. What was supposed to be a simple elimination had somehow transformed into... this. Whatever "this" was. She needed to report back to Kokabiel immediately, but first, she needed to eliminate the threat.
Before it could grow beyond control.
Gathering her power, she formed the largest light spear she could manage—a javelin of brilliant violet energy that hummed with deadly intent. Aiming carefully, she hurled it directly at Issei's unprotected back.
"Target eliminated," she whispered as the spear streaked downward.
The spear never reached him.
Thirteen different powers manifested simultaneously:
Nero's imperial sword slashed through the air, a crimson arc of energy intercepting the spear's trajectory.
Artoria's invisible Excalibur released a gust of divine wind that further disrupted the attack's path.
Durga's trident hurled with unerring accuracy, shattering the light construct into fragments of dissipating energy.
Morgan's dark magic enveloped the area, creating a dome of shadow that absorbed the remaining energy completely.
Musashi's blades moved in a dance so swift they appeared as silver blurs, batting away fragments that escaped the others.
Ishtar's heavenly bulls charged forward from golden portals, their hooves trampling the remnants of the attack into nothingness.
Nobunaga's rifles fired in perfect unison, a volley of mystical bullets that would have been sufficient on their own to neutralize the threat.
Raikou's lightning blade cleaved reality itself, creating a gap that swallowed a portion of the attack before it could reach its target.
Arcueid's claws tore through space with casual ease, shredding the very concept of the attack's existence in certain areas.
Gilgamesh's Gate of Babylon opened wider, releasing multiple noble phantasms that intercepted the spear from every conceivable angle.
Scathach's crimson spear pierced causality itself, striking not the spear but the moment of its creation, disrupting its formation.
Tiamat's primordial waters surged forward in a wave that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere, washing away the last traces of hostile energy.
Solomon's rings glowed with arcane power, time itself slowing around them to ensure not even a single spark of harmful intent reached Issei.
The resulting collision of mythic powers illuminated the entire park, briefly turning night into day. When the light faded, thirteen pairs of eyes looked upward to where Raynare hovered, frozen in shock at the casual display of power that had neutralized her strongest attack as if it were nothing more than a child's tantrum.
"A fallen angel," Arcueid observed, her crimson eyes narrowing. "The one who killed our Master, I presume?"
"Indeed," Morgan confirmed, dark energy gathering around her hands. "How fortunate that she's returned to witness the consequences of her actions."
Raynare's wings beat frantically as she attempted to flee, but a golden chain shot out from one of Gilgamesh's portals, wrapping around her ankle and yanking her downward with inexorable force. She crashed to the ground at the edge of the crater, the impact driving the breath from her lungs.
Before she could recover, she found herself surrounded by the thirteen summoned beings, each regarding her with varying degrees of displeasure.
"You," Durga said, her multiple arms each raising a different weapon, "are the one who attempted to end our Master's life?"
"Please," Raynare gasped, terror replacing her earlier confidence. "I was just following orders! I didn't know he was important!"
"Orders?" Nobunaga asked, the barrel of her rifle coming to rest against Raynare's forehead. "Whose orders?"
"K-Kokabiel," Raynare stammered. "One of the leaders of the Grigori. He said to eliminate any sacred gear users in this territory before they could be recruited by the devils!"
"Interesting," Scathach mused. "So the fallen angels and devils are competing for resources in this region."
"Let me go," Raynare pleaded. "I won't come near him again, I swear!"
"Such insolence," Gilgamesh declared, more golden portals opening behind her. "To harm what now belongs to me, then beg for mercy? The penalty for such transgression is death."
"Wait," Issei's voice cut through the tension. All eyes turned to him as he approached the fallen angel who had killed him mere minutes ago. His expression was a complex mixture of emotions—anger, hurt, confusion, and something else... a newborn determination.
He crouched down to look Raynare in the eyes. "You said I was worthless. That my sacred gear wasn't even worth harvesting. That killing me was probably a mercy because I was so insignificant."
Raynare couldn't hold his gaze, her eyes darting between him and the legendary beings surrounding them.
"Look at me," Issei commanded, his voice stronger than before. When she reluctantly met his eyes, he continued. "I want you to remember this moment. Remember the 'nobody' you thought wasn't worth your time. The next time we meet, I won't be the same person you killed tonight."
He stood, turning his back on her—a dismissal more profound than any threat could have been.
"Let her go," he said to the gathered legends. "She'll deliver a message for us."
"Umu! How merciful! Truly an imperial decision!" Nero approved with a clap of her hands.
"Are you certain, Master?" Raikou asked, her weapon still poised to strike. "This creature tried to take your life."
"And failed," Issei replied with newfound confidence. "Let her tell the others what happened here tonight. Let them wonder what's coming."
After a moment of consideration, the golden chain around Raynare's ankle dissolved, and the circle of legendary figures parted to create an escape route.
"Consider yourself fortunate, fallen one," Artoria stated coldly. "Our Master's mercy is the only reason you leave with your life. Should you threaten him again, there will be no second chance."
Raynare scrambled to her feet, wings spreading as she prepared to flee. But before she could launch herself skyward, Solomon's calm voice stopped her.
"One more thing," the Queen of Magic said. "Tell your master, Kokabiel, that the board has changed. The game he thought he was playing has new pieces now—pieces beyond his comprehension."
With a fearful nod, Raynare took to the sky, her form quickly disappearing into the night.
As the adrenaline of the confrontation faded, Issei felt his knees weaken beneath him. The events of the past hour—his death, resurrection, the summoning of thirteen legendary figures, and the confrontation with his killer—crashed over him like a tidal wave.
"Well," he said faintly, legs finally giving way, "that was... something."
Multiple arms caught him before he hit the ground, each of the summoned beings moving with impossible speed to support him.
"Rest now, my emperor," Nero said gently, brushing hair from his forehead with surprising tenderness. "Your body requires time to adjust to the ritual's effects."
"But... what happens now?" Issei managed to ask as consciousness began to slip away. "Where will you all... stay?"
"Fear not," Raikou soothed, her motherly smile the last thing he saw before darkness claimed him. "We will make arrangements. Rest, Issei-sama. Your new life begins when you awaken."
His last thought before consciousness faded was surprisingly coherent despite everything:
*This isn't *This isn't exactly how I imagined becoming a Harem King would start... but I'm definitely not complaining.*
## Chapter 3: Awakening to Chaos
Issei awoke to the sound of argumentative voices filtering through his bedroom door.
"The kitchen is entirely inadequate for preparing meals befitting our Master," came a haughty voice that Issei recognized as Gilgamesh's. "There are barely enough ingredients to create even the simplest of feasts."
"We could always acquire more," Musashi suggested pragmatically. "This town must have marketplaces."
"Using what currency?" Morgan's cool voice interjected. "I doubt our Master possesses sufficient wealth to sustain thirteen additional people, let alone beings of our caliber."
"Umu! Such mundane concerns are beneath an emperor's consideration," Nero declared. "Resources will present themselves when needed!"
"That's not how modern economies function," Solomon corrected gently. "We must be practical about our integration into this era."
Issei sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. Sunlight streamed through his bedroom window, suggesting it was already late morning. His body felt surprisingly good—no pain from Raynare's attack, no stiffness, just a pleasant warmth centered in his left arm where the sacred gear apparently resided.
"It wasn't a dream," he whispered to himself, recalling the previous night's impossible events.
"Indeed not," came a voice from the corner of his room.
Issei nearly jumped out of his skin. Scathach sat cross-legged on the floor, her crimson spear resting across her lap, eyes closed as if in meditation.
"You—! How long have you been there?" Issei stammered, hastily pulling his blanket higher.
"All night," Scathach replied matter-of-factly, opening her eyes. "We established a rotation. I drew the dawn watch."
"Rotation? Watch?"
"You've made powerful enemies in a single night," Scathach explained, rising to her feet with fluid grace. "Until you can defend yourself properly, we'll ensure you're never unprotected."
Before Issei could respond to this alarming statement, his bedroom door burst open, revealing Nero in all her imperial glory—except now, instead of her elaborate Roman dress, she wore what appeared to be one of his mother's aprons over her attire.
"The sleeping emperor awakens!" she announced joyfully. "Excellent timing! I have nearly completed breakfast, though that mongrel of a king continues to critique my culinary methods."
"You were attempting to cook raw chicken with a hair dryer," Gilgamesh's voice called from down the hall. "The King of Heroes refuses to allow our Master to be poisoned by such incompetence!"
Nero's cheeks puffed out in indignation. "I was merely speeding up the process! The instructions were unclear!"
Issei blinked, trying to process the bizarre domesticity of legendary figures arguing about cooking appliances. "Where are my parents?" he asked suddenly, realizing that his house should not be able to accommodate thirteen additional people without notice.
"Ah, about that," Nero said, tapping her fingers together. "The Queen of Magic may have... adjusted their perceptions slightly."
Solomon appeared beside Nero in the doorway, her expression calm but slightly apologetic. "I've implanted a temporary suggestion in their minds. They believe they've agreed to host several exchange students for an educational program, and are currently visiting relatives to give us time to settle in."
"You brainwashed my parents?" Issei exclaimed.
"'Brainwashed' is such a crude term," Solomon replied. "I merely... redirected their immediate priorities. No harm has been done, and the effect will fade naturally in a week, by which time we'll have established more permanent arrangements."
"But—"
"Master," Scathach interrupted, her tone brooking no argument, "while your concerns are understandable, there are more pressing matters to discuss. Your absence from school yesterday has likely been noticed, and we must establish our presence in this town without drawing undue supernatural attention."
"School?" Issei's eyes widened as realization dawned. "What day is it?"
"Tuesday," Nero replied cheerfully. "You've slept through Monday entirely. The ritual required considerable energy from your mortal form."
"I missed a whole day?!" Issei scrambled out of bed, then froze when he realized he was wearing only boxers. His face reddened as he became acutely aware of the three legendary women in his room observing him with varying degrees of interest.
"Umu! No need for modesty, my emperor!" Nero declared with a laugh. "A sovereign should be confident in all aspects of his presence!"
"Perhaps we should allow our Master some privacy to prepare for the day," Solomon suggested diplomatically, noting Issei's embarrassment. "Come, Emperor of Roses. Let us check on your... culinary experiment."
As Solomon guided Nero from the room, Scathach remained, her expression unreadable.
"You too!" Issei squeaked, gesturing frantically toward the door.
One elegant eyebrow arched upward. "You truly believe privacy exists between a Master and his Servants? The ritual binds us at a soul level. There is little about you we do not already intuitively know."
"That's... extremely unsettling," Issei muttered.
"Nevertheless," Scathach continued, moving toward the door, "social customs have their place. I will leave you to your morning rituals, but be quick. Training begins immediately after breakfast."
"Training? But I have school!"
"And you will attend," Scathach confirmed. "But not before receiving at least basic instruction in how to channel your sacred gear. Unless you'd prefer to be defenseless when the fallen angels return?"
With that sobering reminder, she left the room, closing the door behind her.
Issei stood motionless for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. Less than forty-eight hours ago, his biggest concern had been which adult magazine to purchase for his collection. Now he was apparently hosting thirteen mythological beings, training to use a dragon-powered sacred gear, and preparing to defend himself against fallen angels.
"What even is my life now?" he wondered aloud.
Shaking his head, he moved to his closet to retrieve his school uniform, only to find it already laid out neatly on his desk chair, freshly pressed and looking better than it ever had when he'd prepared it himself.
"Raikou-san's work," came a new voice from his doorway.
Issei turned to find Durga leaning against the frame, her multiple arms crossed in various positions. She'd apparently shifted to a more human-presenting form with just two visible arms, though her divine aura remained unmistakable.
"She insisted on handling domestic matters," Durga continued. "Apparently mothering instincts transcend cultural and mythological boundaries."
"This is going to take some getting used to," Issei admitted, picking up the uniform.
"Indeed," Durga agreed. "But adaptation is the essence of survival. Now hurry—Nobunaga has discovered your gaming console and is currently challenging Musashi to what they're calling a 'duel of modern warfare.' I fear for the device's survival if left unsupervised for too long."
---
Breakfast was an experience unlike any Issei had ever known. His modest kitchen table, designed for a family of three, now accommodated a rotating cast of legendary figures as they took turns eating the surprisingly delicious spread that had resulted from Gilgamesh and Nero's competitive cooking.
"The key to proper rice is in the washing," Gilgamesh lectured, somehow managing to look regal even while wearing Issei's father's apron. "Three times precisely—no more, no less."
"Umu! But the sauce requires passion!" Nero countered, gesturing dramatically with a spatula. "Measured ingredients are meaningless without the fire of creativity!"
Across the table, Arcueid daintily sampled a piece of tamagoyaki, her crimson eyes widening slightly. "Fascinating. Human food has evolved considerably since my last extended stay in the mortal realm."
"When was that?" Issei asked, genuinely curious.
"Approximately four hundred years ago," Arcueid replied casually, reaching for another piece. "I typically limit my interactions with humans to prevent unnecessary complications. Your kind tends to react... poorly... to True Ancestors."
"Because you're vampires?"
"The term oversimplifies our nature," Arcueid corrected, "but yes, essentially. Though I personally have better control than most of my kind."
"You're not going to... bite me or anything, are you?" Issei asked nervously.
A chorus of laughter erupted around the table.
"Our contract forbids harming you," Morgan explained, sipping tea with elegant precision. "Even if she desired to, she could not."
"Besides," Musashi added through a mouthful of rice, "with the blood of Ddraig running through your veins, you'd probably give her indigestion!"
"Dragon blood tends to be spicy," Tiamat confirmed from her position near the kitchen doorway, her massive form somehow compressed into a more manageable size that still dwarfed everyone else. "Particularly Welsh dragons. Very peppery."
"I wasn't planning to find out," Arcueid assured him with an amused smile.
As breakfast continued, Issei noticed that Solomon, Durga, and Ishtar were huddled around a makeshift map of Kuoh Town spread across the kitchen counter.
"The devil heiresses maintain their base at the old school building," Solomon was explaining, tracing a finger across the paper. "From what I've gathered from local magical resonances, they've established a fairly sophisticated boundary field around the entire academy."
"Defensive or offensive?" Durga inquired, her warrior's mind immediately assessing tactical implications.
"Primarily detection, with secondary defensive capabilities," Solomon replied. "They want to know what enters their territory more than they want to prevent entry outright."
"Arrogant," Ishtar commented, tossing her head. "Though not entirely unreasonable given the relative peace between factions in recent decades."
"Will they be able to detect what we are?" Issei asked, joining their conversation.
The three turned to regard him with expressions of mild surprise, as if they hadn't expected him to take an interest in strategic matters.
"An excellent question," Solomon acknowledged with an approving nod. "The answer is... complicated. They will certainly detect that we are not ordinary humans, but the specific nature of our existence lies somewhat outside their classification systems."
"We're anomalies," Ishtar elaborated. "Divine spirits summoned through a forgotten ritual into physical forms anchored to a mortal Master. They'll sense power, but the signature will be... confusing."
"Which we can use to our advantage," Durga concluded. "Confusion breeds caution in wise opponents."
"And reckless engagement in foolish ones," Morgan added from the table, demonstrating her attentive eavesdropping despite appearing focused on her meal.
Raikou glided into the kitchen then, carrying a stack of what appeared to be school supplies. "I've prepared everything you'll need for your studies today, Issei-sama," she announced, placing them beside his half-eaten breakfast. "Textbooks, notebooks, pencils—all arranged by subject in order of your class schedule."
"How did you know my schedule?" Issei asked, bewildered.
"I accessed the school's online portal," Solomon replied matter-of-factly. "Their encryption was... rudimentary."
"You hacked my school?!"
"Hacking implies unauthorized digital intrusion," Solomon corrected primly. "I simply... observed information that was inadequately protected."
"That's literally what hacking is!"
"Regardless," Scathach interjected, checking the time on a sleek wristwatch she had apparently acquired from somewhere, "we have approximately twenty minutes before we must depart for the academy. Issei requires at least basic instruction in accessing his sacred gear before then."
"So soon?" Raikou frowned, her maternal instincts clearly conflicted about sending her newly-acquired "child" into potential danger.
"The longer we delay establishing our presence, the more suspicious our eventual arrival will appear," Artoria pointed out reasonably. She had been quietly observing the various conversations, her regal posture never faltering despite the chaotic domestic scene. "Better to present ourselves openly than appear to be hiding."
"Agreed," Nobunaga chimed in, having apparently finished her gaming session with Musashi. "Bold action is always preferable to timid waiting! Let the devils wonder at our purpose rather than fear our intentions!"
"Easy for you to say," Issei muttered. "You're not the one who has to explain to his friends why he suddenly has thirteen beautiful women living with him."
"Afraid your perverted reputation will be compromised?" Musashi teased, elbowing him playfully—though even her "playful" gesture nearly knocked him off balance.
"More like afraid it'll be confirmed in the worst possible way," Issei groaned. "Matsuda and Motohama are going to completely lose their minds."
"These are your compatriots in lechery, yes?" Gilgamesh asked with undisguised disdain. "Perhaps you should aspire to more worthy alliances now that you've ascended beyond ordinary humanity."
Issei bristled at this. "They're my friends. Maybe they're perverts—we all are—but they've stood by me when no one else would."
The kitchen fell momentarily silent, thirteen pairs of eyes evaluating him with new interest.
"Loyalty to one's companions, even when society deems them unworthy," Artoria commented with a small nod of approval. "A kingly quality."
"Umu! Precisely what I would expect from my chosen emperor!" Nero declared proudly, as if she'd personally selected Issei rather than being summoned by him.
"Fine, fine," Scathach waved away the sudden atmosphere of approval. "Your loyalty is commendable, but we're wasting time. To the backyard for your first lesson."
---
The Hyoudou family's modest backyard had never seen anything remotely like the gathering that now occupied it. Thirteen legendary beings formed a loose circle around Issei, who stood awkwardly in the center, unsure what to expect.
"The Boosted Gear is activated primarily through intent and need," Scathach explained, circling him slowly. "Under normal circumstances, it would require an emotional trigger of significant magnitude—fear, rage, desperation."
"But the ritual has already partially awakened it," Solomon added. "You should be able to call upon it with concentrated focus."
"Look inward," Tiamat instructed, her voice gentle despite her imposing presence. "The dragon sleeps within your soul, but lightly now. Call to him."
Issei closed his eyes, feeling somewhat foolish but willing to try. He concentrated on his left arm, where he'd seen crimson light the previous night. *Hello? Dragon? Ddraig? Are you there?*
Nothing happened.
"You're approaching this too formally," Musashi observed. "Sacred gears aren't separate entities you negotiate with—they're extensions of your own soul."
"Try imagining power flowing through your veins," Artoria suggested. "Like blood, but hotter, more potent."
Issei tried again, this time visualizing energy coursing through his body, concentrating in his left arm. Still nothing.
"This is taking too long," Gilgamesh scoffed. "Perhaps a more direct stimulus is required."
Before anyone could stop her, Gilgamesh opened a small golden portal and extracted what appeared to be a ceremonial dagger. With lightning speed, she threw it directly at Issei's face.
"What the—!" Issei's eyes snapped open, his arm instinctively raising to shield himself. In that moment of pure survival instinct, his left forearm transformed, encased in a crimson gauntlet with a green jewel embedded in the back of the hand.
The dagger bounced harmlessly off the armored surface, clattering to the grass.
"There," Gilgamesh said smugly. "Problem solved."
"You could have killed him!" Raikou protested, her motherly outrage palpable.
"Nonsense," Gilgamesh dismissed. "I calculated the trajectory precisely. Had the gear failed to manifest, the blade would have passed harmlessly by his ear."
"That's not the point!" Issei exclaimed, staring in equal parts fascination and horror at his transformed arm. "You threw a knife at my face!"
"And now you can access your sacred gear," Gilgamesh replied with imperious satisfaction. "You're welcome."
[BOOST!]
A deep, rumbling voice echoed from the jewel in Issei's gauntlet, startling everyone.
"What was that?" Issei asked, feeling a sudden surge of strength flow through his body.
"The Boosted Gear's primary function," Solomon explained. "Every ten seconds, it doubles your power—physical strength, magical energy, whatever attributes you possess."
[WELSH DRAGON AWAKENED]
The voice came again, stronger this time. The green jewel pulsed with light in rhythm with Issei's heartbeat.
*So you're finally conscious, boy.*
This voice was different—not emerging from the gauntlet but speaking directly into Issei's mind. It was ancient, powerful, and carried a hint of draconic rumble beneath the words.
"Ddraig?" Issei whispered.
*Indeed. I am Ddraig, the Red Dragon Emperor, one of the Two Heavenly Dragons. And you, apparently, are my most unusual host yet.*
"Can everyone hear you?" Issei asked, glancing around at the gathered legends.
*Only you, unless I choose to project my voice through the sacred gear. Which, given our current audience, might be appropriate.*
The jewel glowed brighter, and Ddraig's voice emerged for all to hear.
[I AM DDRAIG, THE RED DRAGON EMPEROR. I ACKNOWLEDGE ISSEI HYOUDOU AS MY CURRENT PARTNER, THOUGH THE CIRCUMSTANCES ARE... UNPRECEDENTED.]
"The Welsh Dragon," Artoria acknowledged with a respectful inclination of her head. "Your reputation precedes you, even across dimensional boundaries."
[AND YOURS, KING OF KNIGHTS. MANY OF YOU I RECOGNIZE FROM LEGENDS THAT HAVE REACHED EVEN MY SEALED CONSCIOUSNESS. THOUGH SOME...]
The gauntlet turned slightly toward Tiamat, the jewel glowing more intensely.
[SOME ARE FAR OLDER THAN EVEN I HAD BELIEVED POSSIBLE TO ENCOUNTER IN THIS ERA.]
"We have much to discuss, Dragon Emperor," Tiamat replied, her primordial nature evident in the resonant quality of her voice. "But perhaps not in a suburban backyard minutes before your host must depart for educational purposes."
[AGREED. THERE WILL BE TIME. FOR NOW, I WILL ASSIST MY HOST IN UNDERSTANDING THE BASICS OF MY POWER.]
The next several minutes were a crash course in Sacred Gear 101, with Ddraig explaining the fundamental abilities of the Boosted Gear while Issei attempted to control the surges of power now flowing through his system.
"The boost function doubles your existing strength," Scathach translated pragmatically. "Which means if your base level is pathetically weak, early boosts will still leave you relatively pathetic."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Issei muttered, flexing his gauntleted hand.
"She's not wrong," Musashi pointed out. "Hence the need for physical training alongside learning to use the gear itself."
"And magical training," Morgan added. "Your dragon-infused blood gives you potential for sorcery far beyond ordinary humans."
"And combat instruction," Durga continued, her warrior's assessment frank. "Power without skill is merely a target with delusions of invulnerability."
"And political education," Artoria insisted. "If you truly aspire to any form of kingship, you must understand the intricacies of authority and governance."
"And cultural refinement," Nero declared. "A true emperor must appreciate beauty in all its forms!"
"And survival skills," Nobunaga chimed in with her characteristic grin. "Sometimes conquest requires living off the land!"
"And proper nutrition," Raikou added firmly. "A growing boy needs balanced meals to support his development."
Issei's head spun as each legendary figure contributed their assessment of what his education should entail. The modest life he'd known seemed to be receding at light speed, replaced by something simultaneously more grandiose and more demanding than he'd ever imagined.
"One step at a time," Solomon interjected, noting his overwhelmed expression. "Today's priority is establishing our presence at the academy without triggering immediate hostilities with the devil factions."
"Which means," Arcueid added, checking the time, "you should probably deactivate the sacred gear and prepare to leave. We've taken the liberty of deciding which of us will accompany you to school."
"Let me guess," Issei said, concentrating on returning his arm to normal (which took several attempts). "All of you?"
"That would be impractical," Artoria replied. "The boundary field would certainly detect such a concentration of power. No, we've selected four of us to attend as transfer students, while the others will establish our base of operations and gather intelligence."
"Umu! I shall of course be among those accompanying you!" Nero announced proudly. "An emperor must oversee her subject's education!"
"As will I," Artoria added with more restraint. "My appearance is least likely to draw unwanted attention."
"Count me in!" Musashi declared cheerfully. "I've always wanted to experience modern education! Plus, someone needs to keep you safe if trouble starts."
"I will complete the quartet," Solomon stated calmly. "My skills at observation and analysis will be valuable in assessing the devil heiresses without alerting them to our true purpose."
"What about the rest of you?" Issei asked the others.
"I shall oversee the preparation of suitable headquarters," Gilgamesh declared imperiously. "This dwelling, while temporarily adequate, lacks the grandeur befitting my presence."
"Translation: she's going house-hunting," Nobunaga stage-whispered with a snicker.
"I will establish a proper defensive perimeter around our current location," Durga stated, her multiple arms gesturing to encompass the property. "Even with four of us accompanying you, we must ensure this position remains secure."
"Morgan and I will investigate the broader supernatural landscape of this region," Ishtar added. "There are faint traces of other powers beyond devils and fallen angels—yokai, minor spirits, possibly even lesser gods."
"Arcueid and I will focus on the fallen angel presence," Scathach continued. "Particularly this 'Kokabiel' mentioned by your attacker. His motives may reveal broader factional conflicts we can exploit."
"And I," Raikou finished with a maternal smile, "will ensure this home is properly maintained and prepared for your return. Growing sovereigns need stability amidst chaos."
"And I," Tiamat said, her massive form shifting slightly, "will remain in contact with all groups while beginning your education in draconic heritage. The ritual awakened more than just your sacred gear, Issei Hyoudou. Ancient blood stirs in your veins—blood that ties you to me in ways even Ddraig does not fully comprehend."
That cryptic statement hung in the air as Issei absorbed the methodical division of responsibilities. These weren't just powerful individuals—they were organizing themselves into an effective unit centered around him, their strategies reflecting thousands of years of collective experience in warfare, politics, and survival.
"Okay," he said finally, squaring his shoulders. "I guess we're doing this. But fair warning—Kuoh Academy was an all-girls school until recently. The ratio is still about 80% female students. Four stunning transfer students showing up with me is going to cause... reactions."
"Umu! As well it should!" Nero declared. "Beauty deserves appreciation!"
"I think he means we'll draw unwanted attention," Artoria translated dryly.
"Precisely the point," Solomon countered. "A distraction in plain sight often provides the best cover for observation. Let them focus on our appearance while we study their true nature."
"And if anyone gives you trouble," Musashi added, cracking her knuckles with a grin, "we'll provide an educational experience they won't forget!"
As the four designated school companions moved to collect their supplies, Issei felt a light touch on his shoulder. He turned to find Tiamat regarding him with her ancient eyes.
"A word of caution, young dragon," she said softly. "The path you've set upon cannot be walked halfway. The ritual binds us to your dream, but the form that dream takes—the king you ultimately become—remains yours to determine."
"What do you mean?"
"The Harem King you imagined was a simplistic fantasy born of adolescent desire," Tiamat explained. "But true kingship, true sovereignty, demands far more than collecting beautiful companions. It requires becoming worthy of loyalty, worthy of power, worthy of love freely given rather than magically compelled."
She gestured toward the others bustling around the yard and house. "We are bound to help you achieve your heart's desire—but your heart may desire more than you yet realize. The question is not whether you will become a king, Issei Hyoudou. The ritual has already set that in motion. The question is: what kind of king will you choose to be?"
With that profound question lingering in his mind, Issei found himself being herded toward the front door by Nero, Artoria, Musashi, and Solomon—four legendary figures now dressed impeccably in Kuoh Academy uniforms, ready to turn his ordinary high school life upside down.
"Alright, team," Musashi declared enthusiastically, "Operation: School Infiltration begins! Let's make history!"
"We are history," Artoria reminded her dryly.
"Then let's make more!" Musashi replied without missing a beat. "Hey, Issei—race you to the school gates!"
And with that challenge, the most extraordinary day of Issei Hyoudou's new life began in earnest.
## Chapter 4: Devils, Dragons, and School Days
Kuoh Academy's gates loomed ahead, their wrought iron elegance a stark contrast to the chaos churning in Issei's stomach. Beside him walked the four legendary figures who had elected to accompany him to school, each carrying themselves with distinctive grace that already attracted stares from students entering the campus.
"Remember," Solomon murmured, her voice pitched only for their group to hear, "we are transfer students from various international backgrounds, brought together through a specialized cultural exchange program. Our cover stories should withstand casual scrutiny."
"What exactly are those cover stories again?" Issei asked anxiously. In the rush of morning preparations, he'd missed some of the finer details of their fabricated identities.
"I am Nero Claudius, exchange student from Italy!" Nero declared, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically for their supposedly covert approach. "Specialized in classical studies and performance arts!"
"Artoria Pendragon, from England," Artoria stated more soberly. "Fencing champion and political science enthusiast."
"Miyamoto Musashi!" the swordswoman introduced herself with a broad grin. "Actually Japanese, but raised abroad—hence my 'foreign' mannerisms. Martial arts expert returning to explore my cultural roots."
"And I am Solomon Lemuria," the Queen of Magic finished smoothly. "Anthropology researcher from a private academy in Switzerland, specializing in comparative mythological studies."
"And you're all staying with me because...?" Issei prompted, trying to remember this critical detail.
"Your family volunteered as host family for the exchange program," Solomon reminded him patiently. "A decision facilitated by the fact that your parents recently renovated to add additional guest rooms."
"Which is a complete lie," Issei muttered. "Our house barely fits my family, let alone four additional people."
"Hence why Gilgamesh is searching for more suitable accommodations," Artoria reminded him. "This arrangement is temporary."
As they passed through the gates, the morning chatter around them diminished temporarily as students noticed the exotic newcomers accompanying the school's notorious pervert. Whispers quickly spread through the gathering crowds:
"Who are they?"
"Four transfer students at once?"
"Why are they with Hyoudou of all people?"
"The blonde one looks like a princess!"
"The one with white hair seems so mysterious..."
Issei hunched his shoulders slightly under the attention, but Musashi nudged him. "Chin up, future king," she whispered. "Remember what Tiamat said—becoming worthy starts with carrying yourself as though you already are."
Before Issei could respond, a familiar voice cut through the murmurs.
"ISSEI!"
Matsuda and Motohama barreled through the crowd, their expressions cycling rapidly between shock, outrage, and betrayal as they took in the four beautiful women surrounding their friend.
"You disappear for a day without answering any messages," Matsuda began accusingly, "and then show up with FOUR gorgeous girls?!"
"What sorcery is this?" Motohama demanded, adjusting his glasses frantically as if they were malfunctioning. "My calculations gave you a 0.0001% chance of even getting one girlfriend this year!"
Issei opened his mouth to respond, but Nero stepped forward, somehow managing to look imperious despite wearing the same uniform as every other female student.
"Umu! You must be Issei's cherished friends! I am Nero Claudius, newly arrived from Rome!" she announced with theatrical grandeur. "These are my fellow exchange students—Artoria, Musashi, and Solomon. We're staying with Issei-sama as part of an exclusive cultural exchange program!"
"Issei-SAMA?!" both boys echoed in perfect, horrified unison.
"Indeed," Artoria confirmed with regal calm. "He has been selected as our host during our stay in Japan."
"But WHY HIM?" Motohama practically wailed, gesturing wildly at Issei. "There's nothing special about him except his perverted tendencies!"
Musashi grinned, slinging an arm around Issei's shoulders. "Perhaps that's precisely what interested us," she teased. "Authentic cultural experiences and all that."
Matsuda grabbed Issei by the collar, pulling him slightly away from the women. "You have to tell us your secret," he hissed desperately. "What dark pact did you make? What forbidden technique did you discover? Share your wisdom with your brothers in perversion!"
"It's not like that," Issei protested weakly, though even to his own ears the explanation sounded flimsy. "It's just a regular exchange program. My parents volunteered our house, that's all."
"Your parents volunteered to house four beautiful foreign girls with their teenage son?" Motohama asked skeptically. "The same parents who grounded you for a month when they found your hidden magazine collection?"
"That does strain credibility," Solomon observed mildly, her lips curving in subtle amusement.
Before the interrogation could continue, a wave of reverent murmurs swept through the courtyard. Students parted like the Red Sea as two figures approached: Rias Gremory and Akeno Himejima, the Two Great Ladies of Kuoh Academy.
Even without knowing their true nature, Issei would have been intimidated by their approach. Rias's crimson hair flowed like liquid fire down her back, her teal eyes sharp with intelligence and authority. Beside her, Akeno moved with elegant grace, her traditional Japanese beauty accentuated by her long black hair and mysterious smile.
Now, with his newly awakened senses, Issei could perceive the carefully concealed power that radiated from them—a distinctly different energy signature than what emanated from his summoned companions.
"Devil energy," Solomon murmured, confirming his perception. "High-class bloodlines, both of them."
Issei felt a subtle shift in his companions' postures. Nero's smile remained bright but took on a calculating edge. Artoria's eyes narrowed slightly in assessment. Musashi's casual demeanor became more focused, her hand twitching subtly as if missing the familiar weight of her swords. Solomon alone remained outwardly unchanged, though Issei sensed her magical awareness expanding like an invisible net.
Rias stopped a few paces away, her teal eyes sweeping over the group with undisguised interest. "You must be the new transfer students I've heard about," she said with practiced charm. "Welcome to Kuoh Academy. I'm Rias Gremory, President of the Occult Research Club and Student Council Vice President."
"And I'm Akeno Himejima," her companion added with a polite bow. "It's a pleasure to meet you all."
"Thank you for your welcome," Artoria replied formally, her tone polite but noticeably reserved.
"Umu! The hospitality is appreciated," Nero added with a smile that was just a shade too bright. "Your academy seems most impressive!"
"We do pride ourselves on maintaining certain... standards," Rias responded, her gaze shifting deliberately to Issei. "I was quite concerned when you were absent yesterday, Issei-kun. I'm pleased to see you've recovered."
The pointed comment made it clear she knew something had happened to him. Issei swallowed nervously, unsure how to respond to this subtle probing.
"Just a minor illness," Solomon interjected smoothly. "Nothing that a day's rest couldn't remedy. Issei has been an exemplary host despite his recent indisposition."
"How fortunate that he recovered so quickly," Akeno commented, her gentle smile not quite reaching her eyes. "We would hate for our exchange students to have a negative first impression of our school."
"Oh, I assure you, my impression has been most illuminating already," Solomon replied, the subtle emphasis communicating volumes beneath her pleasant tone.
A moment of tension stretched between them—devil aristocrats and mythic beings each assessing the other while maintaining the façade of normal school interactions.
Matsuda and Motohama glanced between the groups in confusion, clearly sensing the undercurrent but unable to identify its source.
"Perhaps you'd all like to join us for tea after school?" Rias offered, breaking