2
"Perhaps you'd all like to join us for tea after school?" Rias offered, breaking the tension with practiced social grace. "The Occult Research Club always welcomes those with... unique perspectives."
The invitation seemed innocent enough on the surface, but Issei could feel the weight of unstated intentions behind her words. This wasn't just a friendly overture—it was a strategic move.
Nero opened her mouth to respond, but Solomon placed a gentle hand on her arm, silently requesting the opportunity to answer.
"That's very kind," Solomon replied, her tone perfectly balanced between appreciation and polite distance. "Perhaps another day? We're still settling into our new accommodations, and Issei has promised to show us around town after classes."
"Of course," Rias nodded, but her eyes lingered on Issei with undisguised curiosity. "The invitation remains open. Especially to you, Issei-kun. I've been meaning to speak with you for some time now."
"Me?" Issei squeaked, genuinely surprised despite everything he'd learned about his supposed importance in the supernatural world.
"Indeed," Akeno confirmed with that mysterious smile that had captivated half the male student body. "You've caught our interest."
"I can't imagine why," Issei mumbled, unsure whether to feel flattered or terrified by the attention of devil aristocrats.
"Can't you?" Rias asked with a knowing look that suggested she was perfectly aware of his sacred gear. "Sometimes the most fascinating people are those who don't yet realize their own potential."
With that cryptic statement, Rias and Akeno continued on their way, leaving a wake of admiring students and confused whispers behind them.
"What was that about?" Matsuda demanded once the school idols were out of earshot. "Since when does Rias Gremory even know you exist, let alone invite you to her club?"
"Forget that," Motohama interjected, grabbing Issei's shoulders. "You turned down tea with Rias Gremory and Akeno Himejima? Have you lost your mind?!"
"It's complicated," Issei offered weakly.
"Everything about today is apparently 'complicated'!" Matsuda exclaimed in frustration. "You disappear for a day, return with four beautiful foreign girls, and now the Two Great Ladies are personally inviting you to their exclusive club? What aren't you telling us?!"
Before Issei could formulate a response that wouldn't sound completely insane, the warning bell rang, signaling five minutes until first period.
"We should proceed to the faculty office to complete our enrollment," Artoria stated, gracefully extracting Issei from his friends' interrogation. "We'll see you in class, Issei."
"Saved by the bell," Musashi whispered to him with a wink. "But you might want to prepare a better explanation for your friends. They seem like the persistent type."
As the four legendary women departed toward the administrative building, Issei found himself being dragged behind a nearby tree by his two friends.
"Spill. Everything. Now," Motohama demanded, his expression deadly serious behind his glasses.
"Guys, I promise I'll explain later," Issei said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "But we're going to be late for class."
"Late for class? WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH ISSEI?" Matsuda exclaimed. "The real Issei would happily take detention if it meant discussing beautiful women!"
"Look," Issei sighed, running a hand through his hair. "A lot has changed in the last couple of days. I'm still figuring it out myself. Just... trust me for now, okay?"
The sincerity in his voice must have registered because both friends stepped back slightly, their expressions shifting from accusatory to concerned.
"Are you in some kind of trouble?" Motohama asked more quietly. "Because if you are—"
"We've got your back," Matsuda finished. "Perverted Trio code. We stick together."
The unexpected loyalty caught Issei off guard. For all their shared degenerate behavior, he sometimes forgot that there was genuine friendship beneath their perverted camaraderie.
"I'm not in trouble," he assured them, touched by their concern. "It's just... let's call it an unexpectedly positive life change. I promise I'll tell you everything when I can."
They didn't look entirely convinced but nodded reluctantly.
"Fine," Matsuda agreed. "But this better be good."
"Trust me," Issei said, thinking of the thirteen legendary beings now bound to his fate, "it's beyond anything you could imagine."
---
First period was already underway when Issei slipped into the classroom, earning a disapproving look from his teacher.
"Nice of you to join us, Hyoudou-kun," she remarked dryly. "Especially after your absence yesterday. Take your seat."
As Issei hurried to his desk, he noticed the entire class seemed unusually attentive—not to the lesson, but to three empty desks that had been added to the room. His stomach tightened as he realized what was coming.
Sure enough, moments later, there was a knock at the classroom door. The teacher moved to answer it, exchanged a few quiet words with someone in the hallway, then turned back to address the class.
"It seems we have the honor of welcoming three transfer students today," she announced, an unusual note of enthusiasm in her voice. "Please give them your full attention and make them feel welcome at Kuoh Academy."
The door slid open fully, revealing Nero, Artoria, and Musashi standing in a row. Solomon, Issei realized, must have been assigned to a different class.
"Please introduce yourselves," the teacher prompted.
Nero stepped forward first, somehow managing to make the simple action look like a royal procession. She flipped her blonde hair dramatically and beamed at the class.
"Umu! I am Nero Claudius, heir to the glory of Rome!" she declared with theatrical flair. "It is my imperial pleasure to join your esteemed institution of learning! I specialize in performance arts, poetry, and the pursuit of beauty in all its forms!"
The class sat in stunned silence for a moment before scattered applause broke out, accompanied by confused murmurs:
"Did she say 'imperial'?"
"Is she related to the actual Emperor Nero?"
"What's with the 'umu' thing?"
Artoria stepped forward next, her bearing so regal that several students unconsciously straightened their postures in response.
"I am Artoria Pendragon from England," she stated with formal precision. "I practice traditional fencing and have an interest in political theory and history. It is an honor to join your class."
Her poised introduction garnered respectful nods and appreciative murmurs, particularly from the female students who seemed impressed by her dignified demeanor.
Finally, Musashi bounded forward with casual energy that contrasted sharply with her predecessors' formality.
"Yo! Miyamoto Musashi here!" she announced with a broad grin and a peace sign. "Japanese by birth but raised abroad! I'm into martial arts, good food, and testing my limits! Looking forward to making friends and having adventures with you all!"
Her enthusiastic introduction brought smiles to many faces, the class warming to her immediately approachable personality.
"Very good," the teacher said, looking slightly overwhelmed by the distinctive personalities before her. "Now then, these three students will be joining us for the remainder of the year. Please make them feel welcome. You may take the empty seats near... ah, Hyoudou-kun."
A collective gasp went through the classroom as students processed this information. Three beautiful transfer students were not only joining their class on the same day but being seated near Issei Hyoudou of all people?
"Hyoudou?"
"Why him?"
"What's going on?"
"Is this some kind of joke?"
The whispers intensified as Nero, Artoria, and Musashi made their way to the desks surrounding Issei. Nero took the seat directly in front of him, turning to give him a conspiratorial wink. Artoria claimed the desk to his right with quiet dignity. Musashi flopped into the chair behind him, immediately poking him in the back with her pencil.
"Psst, Issei," she whispered, leaning forward. "Is this what school is always like? Everyone's so serious!"
"This is actually unusually exciting," he whispered back. "Normally it's just lectures and trying not to fall asleep."
"How dreadfully mundane," Nero commented, having turned her entire body around in her seat to join the conversation despite the teacher's attempts to resume the lesson. "In Imperial Rome, education involved poetry recitation, physical training, and philosophical debate! Perhaps we should suggest improvements!"
"Perhaps we should focus on assimilating first," Artoria murmured, her eyes fixed attentively on the teacher despite her participation in their whispered exchange. "Creating disruptions will only draw unwanted attention."
"Too late for that," Issei muttered, acutely aware of the entire class staring at them instead of paying attention to the math problems being written on the board.
"Hyoudou-kun," the teacher called sharply, having noticed the ongoing conversation. "Since you appear to have so much to discuss with our new students, perhaps you'd like to solve the equation on the board?"
Issei froze, panic setting in. Math had never been his strong subject, and the complex equation on the board might as well have been written in hieroglyphics for all the sense it made to him.
"I, uh..." he stammered, rising slowly from his seat.
[Allow me to assist, partner.]
Ddraig's voice rumbled quietly in his mind, surprising Issei. He hadn't expected the dragon to take an interest in something as mundane as schoolwork.
*You know math?* Issei thought back incredulously.
[I have existed for millennia and been sealed within countless hosts, many of whom were scholars. I've absorbed more knowledge than you can imagine. This equation is trivial.]
Before Issei could process this revelation, Ddraig began explaining the solution step by step directly into his mind. In a daze, Issei approached the board and began writing, following the dragon's instructions with mechanical precision.
The classroom fell silent as Issei—known primarily for his perverted antics rather than academic prowess—worked through the complex problem with unexpected confidence. When he finished, he stepped back, as surprised as anyone by the elegant solution now displayed on the board.
The teacher blinked in astonishment. "That's... correct, Hyoudou-kun. Very good."
Issei returned to his seat in a state of mild shock, aware of the stunned looks from his classmates.
"Since when can you do advanced calculus?" Motohama hissed from two seats over.
"Recent development," Issei whispered back.
"Umu! My emperor shows his hidden depths!" Nero declared proudly, not bothering to lower her voice. "Truly, his mind is as impressive as his destiny!"
"Emperor?" several nearby students echoed in confusion.
"It's just a nickname," Issei quickly explained, shooting Nero a pleading look. "From the exchange program. Inside joke. Not important."
"A sovereign requires both physical and intellectual mastery," Artoria commented quietly, her words ostensibly for Issei but purposely pitched for nearby students to overhear. "Your mathematical aptitude is a promising foundation."
*Thanks for the save,* Issei directed toward Ddraig while trying to appear normal despite the ongoing commentary from his legendary companions.
[Consider it an investment in your education. The more you know, the stronger a vessel you become for my power.]
The rest of the morning passed in a similar fashion—Issei alternating between trying to pay attention to lessons and managing the disruptive presence of three mythological beings attempting to blend into a modern high school classroom. To their credit, they seemed genuinely interested in the educational experience, though their approaches varied dramatically:
Nero treated each lesson as a performance, volunteering enthusiastic (if historically questionable) answers in history class and turning a simple English reading exercise into a theatrical monologue that left the teacher speechless.
Artoria approached each subject with methodical precision, her answers concise and flawlessly accurate, quickly earning the teachers' approval and many students' admiration for her disciplined intellect.
Musashi brought chaotic energy to everything, challenging the physics teacher's explanations with practical applications ("But if I swing a sword at that angle, the force distribution is completely different!") and turning PE class into an impromptu martial arts demonstration that left the coach considering a career change.
By lunchtime, Issei was mentally exhausted from the strain of trying to appear normal while surrounded by anything but. When the bell rang, he practically collapsed onto his desk with relief.
"Is it always this taxing?" Artoria asked, observing his fatigue with mild concern.
"School? Not usually," Issei replied. "School plus managing three legendary beings pretending to be normal transfer students? Definitely."
"Umu! We are performing admirably!" Nero protested. "I've only mentioned being emperor twelve times, and I've refrained from demanding imperial accommodations entirely!"
"And I haven't challenged anyone to a duel," Musashi added proudly. "Even when that boy in physics class clearly needed a practical demonstration of trajectory principles."
"Small mercies," Issei muttered, but he couldn't help smiling. For all the chaos they brought, there was something endearing about watching these powerful beings navigate the mundane world of high school with such earnest effort.
Their conversation was interrupted by a polite cough. Issei looked up to find a petite white-haired girl standing beside their desks, regarding them with expressionless golden eyes.
"Koneko Toujou," Artoria identified quietly, recognition flickering in her eyes. "First-year student. Member of the Occult Research Club. Nekomata concealing her true nature."
The girl's eyes widened fractionally—the only indication that she'd heard Artoria's murmured assessment.
"Gremory-senpai requests your presence," Koneko stated in a monotone voice, addressing Issei directly. "All of you. Lunch period. Old school building."
Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, her movements displaying an unnatural grace that Issei wouldn't have noticed before his supernatural awakening.
"Well," Musashi grinned once Koneko was out of earshot, "looks like we're having lunch with devils after all. So much for avoiding direct contact on the first day."
"This was inevitable," Artoria reasoned. "Better to engage on our terms than wait for them to force an encounter."
"Should we contact Solomon?" Issei asked, remembering their fourth companion assigned to a different class.
"No need," came Solomon's voice as she appeared in their classroom doorway, her timing suspiciously perfect. "I received the same invitation via a second-year student named Yuuto Kiba. Quite the charming young devil, though his swordwork needs refinement."
"You spoke to him about swords?" Issei asked incredulously. "I thought we were maintaining cover!"
"Cover, yes. Ignorance, no," Solomon replied with a small smile. "Sometimes revealing a portion of your knowledge serves better than complete concealment. He now knows we recognize what he is, while still underestimating what we are."
"Strategic information management," Artoria nodded approvingly. "Well played."
"So we're going?" Issei confirmed, his stomach churning with equal parts anxiety and anticipation.
"Umu! Of course!" Nero declared, rising from her seat with imperial confidence. "An emperor never refuses an invitation when she intends to eventually rule the territory!"
"Perhaps phrase it differently when we're actually with them," Musashi suggested, slinging an arm around Issei's shoulders. "Come on, future Harem King! Time to meet the competition!"
---
The old school building stood apart from the main campus, surrounded by trees that seemed older and somehow more aware than the decorative vegetation elsewhere on the grounds. As they approached, Issei could feel the boundary field Solomon had mentioned earlier—a subtle pressure against his newly awakened senses, like walking through an invisible spiderweb.
"They're scanning us," Solomon murmured as they crossed the threshold. "The boundary is designed to identify supernatural entities."
"Will it recognize what we are?" Issei asked nervously.
"It will register power," Artoria explained. "But our nature is sufficiently unusual that it should only create confusion rather than clear identification."
The interior of the building maintained its vintage charm despite modern updates. Polished wooden floors creaked slightly beneath their feet as they were led down a hallway by Yuuto Kiba, the princely blonde second-year whose good looks and gentle manners had earned him a dedicated female following throughout the school.
"Buchou is looking forward to meeting you all properly," Kiba said with a courteous smile that revealed nothing of his thoughts. "We don't often get transfer students with such... diverse backgrounds."
"Oh? What do you know of our backgrounds?" Solomon inquired with innocently academic interest, though Issei could sense the pointed nature of her question.
"Only what any curious student might observe," Kiba replied smoothly. "International students are something of a rarity at Kuoh Academy. It naturally inspires interest."
"How fortunate that we have such attentive hosts," Artoria commented, her formal tone matching Kiba's diplomatic ambiguity perfectly.
They arrived at an ornate door that Issei immediately recognized as belonging to the Occult Research Club—a room he and his friends had often speculated about but never seen inside. Rumor held that the club engaged in everything from séances to actual magic, though most dismissed these tales as embellishment to enhance the mysterious aura surrounding Rias Gremory and her exclusive group.
Now, knowing what he did about the supernatural world, those rumors seemed far less fanciful.
Kiba knocked politely, then opened the door at a muffled "Enter" from within.
The club room defied Issei's expectations. Rather than dark curtains and occult paraphernalia, it featured elegant Victorian-style furniture, bookshelves filled with antique volumes, and large windows that allowed natural light to fill the space. At the center stood a collection of sofas and chairs arranged around a coffee table already set with tea service and an assortment of sweets.
Rias Gremory sat behind an ornate desk, looking every bit the aristocrat in her carefully pressed uniform. Akeno stood beside her with that ever-present mysterious smile. Koneko occupied a chair in the corner, a half-eaten pastry in her hand as she watched the newcomers with unblinking golden eyes.
"Welcome to the Occult Research Club," Rias greeted them, rising from her seat with practiced grace. "Thank you for accepting our invitation on such short notice."
"The pleasure is ours," Solomon replied, seamlessly taking the role of spokesperson for their group. "Your hospitality is most appreciated, Gremory-san."
"Please, call me Rias," she insisted with a smile that was both welcoming and calculating. "We prefer a more casual atmosphere here in the club. Now, please make yourselves comfortable. Akeno makes the most wonderful tea."
As they arranged themselves on the available seating—Issei finding himself somewhat centrally placed with Nero and Musashi flanking him while Artoria and Solomon took positions with optimal sightlines to all exits—Akeno began pouring tea with ceremonial precision.
"I must admit," Rias continued once everyone was settled, "it's unusual for us to receive four international transfer students at once, especially mid-semester. Even more unusual for all four to be connected to the same host student."
Her teal eyes fixed on Issei with undisguised interest. "Particularly when that student recently experienced a significant... change... in his spiritual signature."
And there it was—the direct acknowledgment of what they all knew but had been dancing around all morning. Rias Gremory had officially dropped the pretext of normal school interaction.
Issei tensed, unsure how to respond to such a direct approach. A slight pressure against his foot drew his attention to Solomon, who gave him the barest shake of her head—a signal to let her handle this opening gambit.
"How fascinating that you've noticed such details," Solomon remarked, her tone suggesting academic interest rather than concern. "Your boundary field must be quite sophisticated to detect subtle energetic fluctuations in the student body."
"We take our responsibility for this territory quite seriously," Rias confirmed, accepting the subtle acknowledgment of her supernatural awareness. "Which is why we were particularly interested when a previously ordinary human student vanished from our senses entirely one evening, only to return accompanied by four... unusual presences."
"Unusual?" Nero repeated with a theatrical tilt of her head. "How intriguing! In what way do we strike you as unusual, Rias-san?"
It was a deliberate reversal of the interrogation, forcing Rias to reveal how much she actually knew rather than fishing for information.
"Let's dispense with the pretense," Rias suggested, setting down her teacup with a delicate clink. "You are clearly not ordinary humans. Your energy signatures don't match any classification in our records—not devil, not angel, not fallen, not yokai or any other known supernatural entity. Yet you radiate power that rivals or exceeds high-class devils."
She leaned forward slightly, her crimson hair catching the afternoon light. "So I'll ask directly: What are you, and what is your interest in Issei Hyoudou, whom we had already identified as a sacred gear user under our protection?"
A tense silence fell over the room. Issei could feel the shift in energy as both sides abandoned the façade of normal school interactions. His legendary companions didn't reach for weapons, but their postures subtly adjusted to combat readiness.
"Under your protection?" Artoria finally broke the silence, her voice cool and precise. "Is that why he was killed by a fallen angel on your territory without any intervention?"
Rias's composure faltered slightly, genuine surprise flickering across her features. "Killed? That's impossible. He's clearly alive and—"
"I died," Issei interrupted, deciding it was time to speak for himself. "Two nights ago, in the park. A fallen angel named Raynare, who had been posing as my girlfriend Yuuma, stabbed me through the stomach with a light spear and left me to bleed out alone."
The blunt statement seemed to shock all the devils. Rias's eyes widened, Akeno's perpetual smile vanished, Koneko actually stopped eating her pastry, and Kiba's friendly demeanor hardened into something more dangerous.
"That's not possible," Rias insisted, though with less certainty. "We've been monitoring you. There was a fluctuation in your energy signature, yes, but nothing indicating death."
"And yet, death came," Solomon stated quietly. "Followed by something far more interesting."
"The Mythos Summoning Ritual," Issei continued, gaining confidence as he spoke. "Apparently it's been dormant in my bloodline for generations. It activated when I was dying, and I... summoned them." He gestured to his four companions.
"Summoned?" Rias repeated skeptically. "Like familiars?"
"Umu! We are no mere familiars!" Nero declared indignantly. "I am Nero Claudius, Emperor of Rome!"
"I am Artoria Pendragon, King of Knights and ruler of Camelot," Artoria stated, her regal bearing suddenly unmistakable.
"Miyamoto Musashi, undefeated swordsmaster," Musashi introduced herself with a dangerous grin, all pretense of carefree schoolgirl vanishing.
"And I am Solomon, Queen of Magic and Time," Solomon completed the introductions, a faint glow emanating from the rings on her fingers as she allowed her true nature to become more visible.
The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. Where there had been cautious investigation, there was now unmistakable alarm. Kiba's hand moved subtly toward what Issei assumed was a concealed weapon. Akeno's fingers twitched as if preparing to channel power. Even Koneko set down her food entirely, her small frame tensing.
Only Rias maintained her composure, though her eyes had narrowed in calculation. "You claim to be historical and mythological figures given form through some unknown ritual," she summarized. "That's... difficult to believe."
"And yet no more difficult than the existence of devils hiding as schoolgirls," Artoria countered reasonably. "The supernatural world is vast and filled with mysteries beyond any single faction's knowledge."
"If what you say is true," Rias pressed, "what are your intentions here? Devils have maintained peaceful governance of this territory for generations."
"Our intention," Solomon replied simply, "is to support our Master in achieving his potential and fulfilling his dream."
"And what dream might that be?" Akeno inquired, speaking up for the first time, her voice silky with dangerous undertones.
Issei swallowed hard. This was it—the moment where he either embraced his ridiculous ambition or tried to deny it. Looking around at these legendary beings who had answered his desperate wish, who were now supporting him despite his obvious shortcomings, he made his decision.
"To become the Harem King," he declared, his voice stronger than he expected.
A beat of silence followed his announcement. Then, to his utter mortification, Koneko snorted.
"Pervert," she muttered, returning to her pastry with dismissive disinterest.
"Ara ara," Akeno giggled behind her hand. "How ambitious."
Even Kiba seemed to relax slightly, a bemused smile replacing his combat readiness.
Only Rias maintained her serious expression, her eyes still fixed on Issei with thoughtful intensity. "The Harem King," she repeated slowly. "And these legendary figures are bound to help you achieve this... goal?"
"It's not what it sounds like," Issei hastened to explain, feeling his face burn with embarrassment. "Well, it is, but it's also... more."
"What our Master means," Solomon interjected smoothly, "is that while the initial desire may have seemed merely carnal in nature, the ritual responded to deeper currents within his soul—a desire for acknowledgment, for worth, for the creation of a realm where he and those he cares for can thrive. In short, true sovereignty."
"A king in more than name," Artoria added. "One who earns loyalty rather than demanding it."
"One who grows to deserve the power he's been granted," Musashi continued, her usual playfulness tempered with genuine conviction.
"Umu! One whose dream, however humble its beginnings, contains the seed of true greatness!" Nero finished with theatrical flair.
Issei stared at them in surprise. He'd been so focused on the embarrassing aspect of his "Harem King" ambition that he hadn't considered there might be more to it—that these legendary beings might see something in him beyond what he saw in himself.
Rias studied them all for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, unexpectedly, she laughed—a genuine sound of amusement that broke the tension in the room.
"Well," she said, leaning back in her chair, "this is certainly not how I expected today's meeting to unfold. I had intended to offer Issei a place in my peerage, given his sacred gear, but it seems that option is now... complicated."
"Impossible, actually," Solomon corrected gently. "The ritual has fundamentally altered his soul structure. He is no longer compatible with the Evil Piece system."
"I suspected as much," Rias nodded, surprisingly accepting of this declaration. "Which leaves us with an interesting situation. Four—or more?—legendary beings bound to a former human with an awakened Longinus, operating independently within devil territory."
"Nine more, actually," Issei admitted, wincing slightly at the renewed shock on the devils' faces. "There are thirteen total. The others are... setting up our base of operations."
"Thirteen?" Kiba echoed incredulously. "Thirteen legendary entities responded to your summons?"
"The ritual draws beings whose essence resonates with the summoner's soul," Solomon explained. "The number and nature of those summoned reflects the potential within the summoner themselves."
"Fascinating," Rias murmured, her academic curiosity evidently overcoming her territorial concerns. "And completely unheard of in devil records."
"So what happens now?" Issei asked, bringing the conversation back to practical matters. "Are we... enemies?"
The question hung in the air, loaded with implications. Issei genuinely didn't want conflict with Rias and her group—they seemed reasonable, and he had no desire to become entangled in supernatural politics beyond what was already unavoidable.
Rias considered the question carefully before responding. "Not enemies," she decided. "At least, not without cause. Devils are pragmatic by nature. While your sudden emergence as an independent power in our territory is unexpected, it need not be adversarial."
"A non-aggression pact, then?" Artoria suggested, her diplomatic experience evident in her approach.
"For now," Rias agreed. "With the understanding that we will need more detailed discussions about territorial boundaries and mutual cooperation against common threats."
"Such as the fallen angels who attempted to eliminate Issei," Solomon pointed out. "Who, I suspect, were operating without your knowledge or approval in your territory."
A flash of genuine anger crossed Rias's face. "Absolutely without approval. Had I known fallen angels were targeting sacred gear users in my territory, I would have intervened immediately."
"Which raises the question of how they were operating here undetected," Akeno commented, her pleasant demeanor giving way to something sharper and more calculating.
"A topic for our future discussions," Rias concluded, rising from her seat to indicate the meeting was drawing to a close. "For now, let us agree to maintain peaceful coexistence while we all adjust to this new... arrangement."
She extended her hand toward Issei, who hesitated briefly before accepting the handshake. Her skin was surprisingly warm for a devil, her grip firm but not challenging.
"Welcome to the supernatural world, Issei Hyoudou," she said with what seemed like genuine sincerity. "It seems your journey will be even more interesting than I had anticipated."
As they prepared to leave, Rias added one final comment: "Oh, and please try to keep property damage to a minimum. My brother is quite particular about maintaining the illusion of normalcy in this town."
"Your brother?" Issei asked, curiosity piqued.
"Sirzechs Lucifer," Rias replied casually, as if not dropping a bombshell. "One of the four current Satans who rule the Underworld. He has a particular fondness for this town and would be most displeased if it were destroyed by supernatural conflicts."
With that cheerful parting reminder, they were escorted back to the main school building by Kiba, the lunch period nearly over and a tentative peace established between the factions.
"Well," Musashi remarked once they were alone, "that went better than expected! No bloodshed at all!"
"Was bloodshed a likely outcome?" Issei asked weakly.
"With thirteen mythological powerhouses suddenly appearing in devil territory?" Solomon replied with raised eyebrows. "Historical precedent would suggest violent territory disputes were the most probable outcome."
"Umu! But we have established diplomatic relations instead!" Nero declared triumphantly. "Truly, the path of an emperor begins with wise alliances!"
As they made their way back to their respective classrooms, Issei couldn't help but feel that despite the seemingly positive outcome, he had only scratched the surface of the supernatural politics he was now irrevocably entangled in.
And somewhere in the back of his mind, Ddraig's amused voice confirmed his suspicion:
[Welcome to the great game, partner. It only gets more complicated from here.]
## Chapter 5: Training Begins
The final bell of the school day rang with a sound that Issei once would have greeted with unmitigated relief. Now, however, it signaled the beginning of what promised to be an even more challenging part of his day.
"Remember what Scathach said this morning," Musashi reminded him cheerfully as they gathered their belongings. "Training begins immediately after school."
"I was hoping she might have been exaggerating," Issei admitted, shoulders slumping at the thought of physical exertion after an already exhausting day of supernatural school politics.
"The Queen of the Land of Shadows does not exaggerate about training," Artoria stated with what might have been a hint of sympathy in her typically formal tone. "If anything, she tends toward understatement."
"Great," Issei muttered. "So when she said 'basic instruction,' she actually meant...?"
"Total physical exhaustion and possible psychological trauma," Musashi supplied helpfully. "But in a constructive way!"
As they made their way toward the school gates, Issei became aware of the whispers and stares following them—or more accurately, following him. The rumors had spread throughout the day, growing more elaborate with each retelling:
"Hyoudou's apparently hosting foreign exchange students..."
"I heard he's secretly rich and they're all staying at his mansion..."
"Someone said they called him 'emperor' in class..."
"The Perverted Prince actually got girlfriends? Impossible!"
Matsuda and Motohama were waiting by the gates, their expressions a complex mixture of betrayal, envy, and burning curiosity.
"Don't think you're escaping without an explanation," Matsuda declared, moving to block their path. "We've been patient all day, but the rumors are getting ridiculous."
"Someone in Class 3-B is saying you're actually a foreign prince in disguise," Motohama added, adjusting his glasses. "And that these beautiful women are your royal entourage."
"Prince?" Nero scoffed before Issei could respond. "How insulting! My emperor deserves the highest title!"
"Not helping," Issei hissed at her before turning back to his friends. "Look, guys, I know this all seems weird—"
"Weird doesn't begin to cover it," Motohama interrupted. "Yesterday you were just Issei, our fellow pervert with zero romantic prospects. Today you're surrounded by foreign beauties who look at you like you're something special."
The raw hurt in his frien The raw hurt in his friend's voice caught Issei off guard. He'd been so consumed by his own supernatural transformation that he hadn't fully considered how his sudden change in status would affect his closest friends.
"It's still me," Issei said quietly. "I'm still the same pervert you've always known."
"Are you?" Matsuda challenged, gesturing at the legendary beings surrounding him. "Because the Issei we know would be bragging non-stop about scoring four hot girlfriends, not being all mysterious and secretive."
Issei glanced at his companions, silently asking for guidance. Solomon gave him a subtle nod.
"They deserve some version of the truth," she murmured, just loudly enough for Issei to hear. "Friendship is a form of power too rare to squander."
Issei took a deep breath. "Okay, how about this? Meet us at my place in two hours. I can't tell you everything—you literally wouldn't believe me if I did—but I'll explain what I can."
Motohama and Matsuda exchanged skeptical looks before Motohama finally nodded. "Two hours. And it better be good."
"Trust me," Issei replied with a grimace, "everything about my life right now is unbelievable."
As his friends walked away, Musashi clapped him on the shoulder. "Well handled! Now, let's get you to training before Scathach decides to hunt you down herself."
"She wouldn't actually do that, would she?" Issei asked nervously.
The three legendary women exchanged knowing looks.
"Let's just say punctuality becomes a survival instinct when training under the Queen of Shadows," Artoria remarked with what almost passed for humor.
---
They were halfway home when Solomon suddenly halted, her rings glowing subtly as she scanned their surroundings.
"We're being watched," she announced calmly.
"Fallen angels?" Issei asked, tensing immediately.
"No. Devil. Young. Female." Solomon's eyes tracked to a tree several yards away. "Rather inexperienced at concealment."
"I noticed her twenty minutes ago," Musashi admitted cheerfully. "She's been following us since we left school grounds. Pretty cute, actually."
"You knew and didn't say anything?" Issei whispered incredulously.
"Why ruin the fun?" Musashi grinned. "Besides, she's not hostile. Just curious."
Nero struck a dramatic pose, pointing directly at the tree. "Umu! Unknown observer! Show yourself or face imperial judgment!"
For a moment, nothing happened. Then a rustling of leaves preceded the appearance of a petite girl with white hair dropped down from the branches. Issei recognized her instantly as Koneko Toujou, the quiet first-year from the Occult Research Club.
"Gremory already sending spies?" Artoria asked, her tone more disappointed than angry. "I had thought better of her diplomatic instincts."
Koneko's expression remained largely blank, though Issei thought he detected a flicker of embarrassment in her golden eyes.
"Not a spy," she said flatly. "Personal curiosity."
"About?" Solomon prompted gently.
Koneko's gaze fixed directly on Issei, her scrutiny so intense it made him want to check if his uniform was properly buttoned.
"How a pervert summoned legends," she stated bluntly. "Doesn't make sense."
"Hey!" Issei protested, though he couldn't exactly argue with her assessment.
"An understandable curiosity," Solomon acknowledged with a small smile. "Though one that might have been better satisfied through direct inquiry rather than surveillance."
"Didn't want to ask in front of Buchou," Koneko admitted, showing a hint of independent thinking that surprised Issei. "She has... plans. Always has plans."
"And you sometimes disagree with these plans?" Artoria surmised perceptively.
Koneko neither confirmed nor denied this, but her silence was telling.
"Well, since you're here, why don't you join us?" Musashi suggested brightly. "We're heading to watch Issei get his butt kicked—I mean, undergo professional combat training."
"Musashi!" Issei groaned.
"What? It's the truth," she shrugged unapologetically. "Your first session with Scathach is going to be brutal. Might as well have witnesses for historical documentation."
To Issei's surprise, Koneko actually seemed to consider the invitation. After a moment, she nodded once.
"Will observe. For research."
"Excellent!" Nero declared. "The more who witness my emperor's journey to greatness, the better! Even if the early stages involve significant physical suffering!"
"You're all enjoying this way too much," Issei muttered as they resumed walking, now with an additional supernatural spectator in tow.
"Of course we are," Musashi confirmed cheerfully. "Teaching is much more fun than being taught."
---
When they arrived at Issei's house, they found the modest property transformed. A previously non-existent training area had been established in the backyard, complete with various weapons racks, training dummies, and what appeared to be obstacle courses designed by someone with a questionable understanding of human physical limitations.
More surprising was the elegant pavilion now occupying what had once been his mother's vegetable garden, beneath which sat Gilgamesh, apparently enjoying fine wine while supervising construction efforts.
"Ah, you've returned," she noted imperiously, barely glancing up from her golden chalice. "And brought yet another stray. How typical."
"What happened to my backyard?" Issei asked, staring in disbelief at the transformation.
"Improvements," Gilgamesh replied dismissively. "This pathetic plot of land was unsuitable for housing beings of our caliber. I've merely begun the necessary renovations."
"But where did all this come from? And how did you do it so quickly?"
"The King of Heroes has access to all treasures," Gilgamesh explained as if speaking to a particularly slow child. "And Durga's multiple arms prove surprisingly efficient for construction purposes."
As if summoned by her name, Durga emerged from inside the house, her multiple arms carrying various building materials and tools simultaneously.
"Ah, you've returned," she greeted them, setting down her burdens. "Excellent timing. Scathach has been growing impatient."
"Where is she?" Issei asked, glancing around nervously.
"Right behind you," came a cool voice.
Issei yelped, spinning around to find Scathach standing where he could have sworn no one had been a moment before. Her crimson spear was balanced casually across her shoulders, and her expression promised nothing good for his immediate future.
"You're late," she observed, her tone making it clear this was an unforgivable transgression.
"We had a diplomatic situation to manage," Solomon explained, gesturing toward Koneko. "A representative of the Gremory household expressed personal interest in our activities."
Scathach's ancient gaze swept over Koneko, assessing the young devil in an instant. "A nekomata suppressing her true nature. Interesting choice of observer."
Koneko stiffened slightly, clearly unsettled by being so easily identified.
"I'm not here officially," she stated flatly. "Just watching."
"As you wish," Scathach shrugged. "Observers are welcome. They make excellent cautionary examples when students try to slack off." Her attention returned to Issei, who instinctively took a step back. "Speaking of students, it's time to begin your training."
Before Issei could protest, Scathach moved with impossible speed, sweeping his legs out from under him. He hit the ground hard, the impact driving the breath from his lungs.
"Lesson one," Scathach announced calmly, standing over him. "Always be prepared for attack. The moment you step onto a training field, you are in combat."
"A little warning would have been nice," Issei wheezed, struggling to his feet.
"Warning?" Scathach raised an eyebrow. "Will your enemies warn you before they strike? Will fallen angels announce their spears before piercing your heart?"
"Well, Raynare kind of did," Issei muttered. "She had a whole villain monologue."
Scathach's spear whipped out, stopping a hair's breadth from his throat. "And that is precisely why she failed. A true warrior strikes without hesitation, without declaration, without mercy."
From her position under the pavilion, Gilgamesh snorted. "You speak as if he's training to become an assassin, Witch of Dun Scaith. He aspires to be a king. Kings require different skills."
"Kings who cannot defend themselves become dead kings very quickly," Scathach countered, withdrawing her spear. "Combat fundamentals come first. Politics can wait until he can survive an ambush."
"Perhaps a compromise," Solomon suggested diplomatically. "Physical training paired with strategic education. The body and mind developed in parallel."
"Umu! I volunteer to oversee the imperial education!" Nero declared, raising her hand enthusiastically. "My expertise in governance, arts, and pleasure-seeking makes me the ideal instructor!"
"Your expertise in bankrupting an empire and setting a city ablaze hardly qualifies you as a political tutor," Gilgamesh remarked dryly.
"How dare you!" Nero gasped, genuinely offended. "Rome was glorious under my reign! The fire was merely an unfortunate urban renewal incident!"
As the legendary figures began debating educational approaches with increasing volume, Issei sidled over to where Koneko stood watching the proceedings with wide eyes—the most expression he'd seen on her typically blank face.
"So," he said awkwardly, "this is my life now."
Koneko studied him for a moment before responding. "Loud."
"Yeah," Issei agreed with a rueful smile. "They're... intense."
"But powerful," Koneko observed. Her nose twitched slightly. "Can smell it. Ancient power. Different from devils."
"Is that weird? The different energy thing?"
Koneko considered this. "Everything supernatural has a... signature. Devils feel like darkness and contracts. Angels like light and rigidity. These feel like..." She struggled to find the words. "Like stories given flesh. Legends made real."
It was probably the most Issei had ever heard her speak at once, and he was struck by the poetic accuracy of her description.
Their conversation was interrupted as Scathach clapped her hands sharply, cutting through the ongoing debate.
"Enough discussion. Training begins now," she declared with finality. "Issei will spend one hour on physical conditioning, one hour on sacred gear activation and control, and one hour on basic combat forms. Additional educational aspects can be incorporated tomorrow."
No one, not even Gilgamesh, seemed inclined to challenge this schedule. Issei sighed, resigning himself to the inevitable pain.
"Can I at least change out of my school uniform first?" he asked hopefully.
Scathach's smile was terrifying in its rarity. "Why bother? You'll need to learn to fight in whatever you're wearing when danger strikes. Consider it practical training."
And so began what Issei would later remember as the most grueling three hours of his life. Scathach drove him mercilessly through exercises designed to test the absolute limits of his endurance: sprints while carrying increasingly heavy weights, endless repetitions of basic movements that left his muscles screaming, and combat drills that repeatedly ended with him face-down in the dirt.
Throughout it all, his legendary companions observed with varying reactions:
Nero cheered enthusiastically, comparing his efforts to gladiatorial training and occasionally suggesting more "aesthetically pleasing" forms that Scathach immediately rejected.
Artoria watched with analytical precision, occasionally offering technical suggestions that, while helpful, required physical coordination Issei simply didn't yet possess.
Musashi alternated between encouraging shouts and barely suppressed laughter when he inevitably stumbled or fell.
Solomon observed quietly, her ancient eyes missing nothing, occasionally making cryptic notes in a journal that appeared from nowhere.
Gilgamesh maintained an air of bored disdain, though Issei occasionally caught her watching with what might have been the barest hint of approval when he refused to stay down after a particularly hard fall.
Most surprising was Koneko, who had originally come just to observe but gradually shifted to a more active role—demonstrating proper forms that her petite body executed with flawless precision, her movements revealing the trained fighter beneath her quiet exterior.
"Your center of gravity is too high," she informed Issei after his fifteenth fall during a basic defensive stance. "Lower. Knees bent more."
When he adjusted as instructed, he found himself significantly more stable.
"Thanks," he panted, sweat pouring down his face. "You're good at this."
"Rooks need to be," she replied simply.
"Rooks?"
"My piece. In Buchou's peerage." She demonstrated a punching technique. "Rooks get enhanced strength and defense. Knights get speed. Bishops get magic. Each has a role."
"Fascinating," Solomon commented, appearing beside them soundlessly. "The Evil Piece system imposes chess-based specializations on reincarnated devils? A clever stratification method."
Koneko nodded once. "Makes training focused. I train for power. Kiba trains for speed. Akeno for magic."
"And what of your inherent nekomata abilities?" Solomon inquired gently. "Do those complement your Rook attributes?"
Koneko froze, her expression shuttering closed. "Don't use those. Ever."
The sudden shift in her demeanor was so dramatic that even Issei, exhausted as he was, noticed immediately. "Hey, it's okay," he said, instinctively reaching out to reassure her before remembering they weren't actually friends. "You don't have to talk about anything you don't want to."
Solomon studied Koneko thoughtfully. "My apologies. I did not realize it was a sensitive topic."
After an awkward moment, Scathach called for a five-minute water break, which Issei collapsed into gratefully.
"You're not dying yet," she observed, sounding almost impressed. "Perhaps there's hope for you after all."
"I'm pretty sure I passed 'dying' about forty minutes ago," Issei groaned, accepting a water bottle from Raikou, who had appeared with refreshments for everyone. "I've moved on to 'already dead but my body hasn't gotten the message.'"
"Dramatic," Koneko commented, accepting her own water with a small nod of thanks.
"I call it as I feel it," Issei replied, attempting to stretch muscles that now felt like overcooked noodles. "And right now, I feel like I've been hit by a truck."
"That can be arranged," Scathach offered with what might have been humor. "For comparison purposes."
"Hard pass," Issei muttered, causing Koneko's lips to twitch in what might have been the ghost of a smile.
As they rehydrated, Solomon pulled Issei slightly aside. "Your friend Koneko is carrying a significant trauma related to her yokai heritage," she murmured. "It might explain her suppression of her true nature."
"Is that bad? The suppression thing?"
"Potentially damaging in the long term," Solomon confirmed. "Like trying to dam a river—eventually, the pressure builds to dangerous levels."
"Should I say something to her?"
Solomon considered this. "Not yet. Trust must be established first. But keep it in mind—sometimes the most valuable thing one sovereign can offer another is simply recognition of their true self."
Before Issei could process this cryptic advice, Scathach announced the end of the break, and the next phase of training began—this time focused on activating and controlling his sacred gear.
"The Boosted Gear responds to need and emotion," Scathach explained, circling him like a predator. "In battle, activation would come naturally. In training, we must simulate that necessity."
"Please don't throw knives at me like Gilgamesh did," Issei begged.
Scathach actually laughed, a sound so unexpected it momentarily silenced everyone present. "The King of Heroes lacks subtlety. There are better ways to stimulate sacred gear activation."
She turned to Koneko. "You. Attack him."
"What?" both Issei and Koneko exclaimed simultaneously.
"Nothing lethal," Scathach clarified. "Just enough threat to trigger his defensive instincts."
Koneko hesitated, glancing between Scathach and Issei. "Buchou wouldn't approve."
"Your master isn't here," Scathach pointed out. "And you came of your own accord, did you not? Consider it a learning opportunity—testing yourself against a Longinus-class sacred gear."
Something flickered in Koneko's eyes—a competitive spark that her typically expressionless face rarely revealed.
"Fine," she agreed, handing her water bottle to Solomon. "Don't cry when I hurt you, pervert."
"Wait, we're really doing this?" Issei asked nervously, backing away as Koneko approached. "I don't want to fight you!"
"Not about want," Koneko replied, dropping into a fighting stance. "About need."
Without further warning, she launched herself at him with surprising speed. Despite her small stature, the force behind her punch was substantial—enough to remind Issei that she wasn't just a quiet first-year but a supernaturally enhanced devil with the strength of a Rook piece.
Pure instinct had him raising his arms defensively, and in that moment of genuine fear, his left arm transformed—the crimson gauntlet materializing just in time to catch Koneko's fist.
[BOOST!]
The jewel in the gauntlet glowed, and Issei felt a surge of power flow through him. Not enough to match Koneko's supernatural strength, but enough to at least absorb the impact without being sent flying.
"Good," Scathach approved. "Now maintain it. Control the flow of power."
Easier said than done. The energy coursing through Issei felt like trying to direct a fire hose with his bare hands—powerful but wild, threatening to overwhelm his limited experience.
[Focus, partner,] Ddraig's voice rumbled in his mind. [The power is yours to command, not the other way around.]
Koneko didn't give him time to adjust, following her initial attack with a swift combination of strikes that forced Issei into desperate evasion. He was clearly outmatched in terms of combat skill, but the sacred gear's enhancement allowed him to at least stay in the fight.
[BOOST!]
A second surge of power hit as the gauntlet announced another doubling of his abilities. This time, Issei managed to block Koneko's kick with enough force to actually push her back slightly.
Her eyes widened in surprise, and for the first time, Issei saw her reassess him as something other than just a perverted human.
"See? Your body knows what to do when survival is at stake," Scathach called from the sidelines. "Now attack! The Boosted Gear isn't just for defense!"
"I can't just attack her!" Issei protested, ducking another punch. "She's a girl! And smaller than me!"
His hesitation earned him a devastating blow to the stomach that doubled him over despite the sacred gear's enhancement.
"Size irrelevant," Koneko stated flatly, standing over him. "Gender irrelevant. In battle, only skill and power matter."
[She's right, you know,] Ddraig commented. [Chivalry has its place, but not when your life is at stake.]
"It's not about chivalry," Issei wheezed, straightening up painfully. "It's about not being the kind of guy who hits people smaller than him."
Something shifted in Koneko's expression—a subtle softening around the eyes that might have been reluctant respect.
"Noble," she acknowledged. "Stupid, but noble."
"Perhaps a different approach is needed," Solomon suggested, stepping forward. "Issei, consider this—in refusing to fight effectively, you actually disrespect your opponent. You deny them the opportunity to test themselves against your full ability."
Issei hadn't considered it from that perspective. He looked at Koneko questioningly.
"Is that true? Would you rather I actually try to fight back?"
Koneko shrugged, but the gesture seemed less dismissive than her usual movements. "Can't improve without challenge. Holding back is insulting."
"Well, when you put it that way..." Issei rolled his shoulders, the gauntlet gleaming in the late afternoon sun. "I guess I can try. But I'm probably going to get my butt kicked anyway."
"Definitely," Koneko agreed, but there was something almost like amusement in her typically flat voice.
What followed was less a coordinated battle and more Issei attempting increasingly desperate maneuvers to avoid being completely demolished by Koneko's superior fighting skills. Even with the Boosted Gear's enhancement, the gap in their combat experience was painfully obvious.
And yet, as the sparring continued, something unexpected happened. Issei began to learn—not through formal instruction but through the brutal efficiency of trial and error. Movements that resulted in pain were quickly abandoned. Tactics that bought him even seconds of reprieve were refined and repeated.
[BOOST!]
With the third doubling of his power, Issei finally managed to land a solid hit—nothing that would seriously hurt Koneko, but enough to demonstrate that he wasn't completely helpless.
The impact seemed to surprise them both equally.
"Sorry!" Issei immediately apologized, horrified that he'd actually struck her.
To his astonishment, Koneko almost smiled. "Better," she said, rubbing her shoulder where his fist had connected. "Still weak, but better."
From the sidelines, his legendary companions watched with varying degrees of approval.
"He learns quickly," Artoria observed. "Not a natural warrior, but adaptive."
"His instincts are sound," Musashi agreed. "He just needs to overcome his hesitation."
"The pervert has heart," Koneko admitted during a brief pause to catch their breath. "Stupid, but heart."
"I'm right here, you know," Issei grumbled, though without real annoyance. Something about Koneko's blunt assessment felt more honest than the often flowery encouragement from Nero or the technical critiques from Artoria.
"I know," Koneko replied simply. "That's why I said it."
Their sparring session continued for another twenty minutes before Scathach finally called a halt. By that point, Issei had managed to maintain the Boosted Gear consistently and even execute a few basic offensive and defensive maneuvers that earned grudging approval from his instructor.
"Acceptable for a first day," Scathach declared, which Issei suspected was high praise coming from her. "Tomorrow we begin actual combat forms."
"There's more?" Issei groaned, collapsing onto the grass. Every muscle in his body felt like it had been put through a meat grinder.
"Today was merely assessing your baseline capabilities," Scathach informed him with what might have been sadistic enjoyment. "The real training starts tomorrow."
"I'm going to die," Issei announced to no one in particular. "Again. But this time from training."
"Unlikely," Koneko commented, barely winded despite their extended sparring. "Your dragon makes you durable."
As Issei lay spread-eagled on the grass, contemplating his newfound "durability" with considerable skepticism, he became aware of voices at the front of the house—familiar voices that sent a jolt of panic through his exhausted system.
"They're early!" he yelped, struggling to sit up. "Matsuda and Motohama—they weren't supposed to be here for another hour!"
"Your perverted friends have arrived?" Nero asked, perking up with interest. "Excellent! I look forward to meeting these legendary comrades of debauchery!"
"No, no, no," Issei protested, frantically trying to deactivate his sacred gear while simultaneously attempting to stand on legs that refused to cooperate. "They can't see all this! The training ground, the pavilion, the weapons—they'll think I've lost my mind!"
"They're going to think that regardless when you tell them you've summoned mythological beings," Musashi pointed out reasonably.
"I wasn't planning to tell them that part!"
"Then what exactly were you planning to tell them?" Solomon inquired, one eyebrow raised.
"I don't know! Something believable! Not 'hey guys, I died and summoned thirteen legendary figures to help me become a Harem King'!"
"That does lack a certain credibility," Artoria acknowledged.
"Perhaps a glamour?" Solomon suggested. "I could create an illusion to hide the more supernatural elements of our current situation."
"Please," Issei begged. "Quickly!"
With a graceful gesture from Solomon, the training ground, weapons racks, and pavilion seemed to shimmer and fade from visibility, replaced by the normal appearance of his family's modest backyard. Even Koneko blinked in surprise at the seamless transformation.
"Impressive," she murmured. "Didn't know devils could do that."
"They typically cannot, at least not with this degree of comprehensiveness," Solomon explained modestly. "It's a matter of understanding the fundamental principles of perception and reality manipulation rather than brute magical force."
Before this magical theory discussion could continue, Matsuda and Motohama rounded the corner of the house, stopping short at the sight that greeted them: Issei sprawled on the grass surrounded by beautiful women, one of whom they recognized as the typically antisocial Koneko Toujou.
"What. The. Hell." Matsuda enunciated each word with increasing volume.
"We said two hours!" Motohama added accusingly. "And we find you already having some kind of—of harem picnic in your backyard?"
"It's not what it looks like," Issei began, then paused. "Actually, I'm not sure what this looks like, but whatever you're thinking, it's not that."
"It looks like you're living every man's dream while your best friends are left in the dark!" Matsuda declared dramatically, actual tears forming in his eyes. "How could you betray the Perverted Trio code like this?"
"Perhaps we should move this discussion inside," Solomon suggested diplomatically. "Issei has just completed an... intense workout and could use some rest while he explains things to his friends."
"Workout?" Motohama repeated skeptically, eyeing Issei's disheveled appearance and obvious exhaustion. "Since when do you work out?"
"Recent lifestyle change," Issei offered weakly. "Part of the whole... exchange program thing."
Koneko snorted quietly at this understatement but said nothing. Instead, she turned as if to leave.
"You're going?" Issei asked, surprised to find he was actually disappointed by her departure.
"Seen enough," she replied with her typical brevity. But then she added, almost as an afterthought: "Not bad. For a pervert."
From Koneko, this qualified as effusive praise.
"Same time tomorrow?" Issei called after her, earning shocked looks from Matsuda and Motohama.
Koneko paused, considering this for a moment before nodding once. "Will tell Buchou I'm helping with... cultural exchange." The ghost of amusement flickered across her face. "Not entirely untrue."
With that cryptic parting comment, she vaulted over the garden wall with casual supernatural grace, leaving Issei to face the incredulous stares of his friends.
"Did Koneko Toujou just agree to meet you tomorrow?" Motohama asked, his voice rising to a near-squeal. "The same Koneko who once kicked a guy through a window for asking her to the school dance?"
"It's complicated," Issei sighed, leveraging himself up from the ground with considerable effort. "Everything is complicated now."
"Then uncomplicate it," Matsuda demanded. "Starting with how you suddenly have the Ice Queen of Kuoh Academy willingly spending time with you when yesterday you couldn't even get a girl to make eye contact with you!"
Issei looked to his legendary companions for guidance, only to find them watching with varying degrees of amusement, clearly enjoying his predicament.
"You're on your own for this one, emperor," Musashi grinned, patting him on the shoulder hard enough to make him wince. "Consider it part of your training—diplomatic relations with your original court."
"Some help you are," Issei grumbled before turning back to his increasingly impatient friends. "Alright, let's go inside. This is going to take a while to explain."
As they made their way toward the house, Issei couldn't help wondering which would be more challenging: training with Scathach or convincing his friends that his life had changed without revealing the supernatural truth behind it all.
Either way, he had a feeling this was just the beginning of his complicated new existence as an aspiring Harem King with thirteen legendary beings now bound to his fate.
## Chapter 6: Revelations and Reactions
"So let me get this straight," Matsuda said slowly, setting down his soda can with deliberate precision. "Your parents spontaneously decided to host an international exchange program..."
"That specifically chose you as the ideal representative of Japanese youth..." Motohama continued.
"And these gorgeous women are all staying here temporarily while attending our school..." Matsuda added.
"And they just happen to include an Italian arts student, an English fencing champion, a Japanese martial artist raised abroad, and a Swiss anthropologist?" Motohama finished, adjusting his glasses skeptically.
They were seated around the Hyoudou family's dining table, which was now crowded with an assortment of snacks and drinks provided by Raikou, who had taken to her self-appointed role as household manager with enthusiastic thoroughness.
"That's... basically it, yes," Issei confirmed, trying to maintain eye contact despite the absurdity of the cover story.
His friends exchanged looks that clearly communicated their disbelief.
"Bullshit," they declared in perfect unison.
"Umu! Such harmony!" Nero exclaimed delightedly. "Truly, you share a profound bond of friendship!"
"Not helping," Issei muttered to her before turning back to his friends. "Look, I know it sounds unlikely—"
"Unlikely?" Motohama interrupted. "It sounds like the plot of a bad harem anime!"
"Does it though?" Musashi mused thoughtfully. "I'd have expected more accidental bath intrusions and misunderstandings about sleeping arrangements by now if that were the case."
"Give it time," Gilgamesh remarked dryly as she passed through the dining room, a glass of wine in hand despite the early evening hour. "The day is young, and our Master excels at creating embarrassing situations."
Matsuda's attention immediately locked onto the new arrival, his eyes widening appreciatively at Gilgamesh's regal beauty. "And who might you be? Another 'exchange student'?"
Gilgamesh's crimson eyes assessed him with the casual disdain of a queen observing an particularly unimpressive insect. "I am the King of Heroes, ruler of Uruk, master of all treasures, and the first and greatest hero of humanity," she stated matter-of-factly before continuing on her way.
A bewildered silence followed her departure.
"Drama club," Issei explained weakly. "She's... really method."
"This is ridiculous," Motohama declared, slapping his hands on the table. "We've been friends since middle school, Issei. Whatever's really going on, you can tell us."
The genuine hurt beneath his frustration made Issei wince. These were his best friends—perverted, sometimes annoying, often ridiculous, but loyal in their own way. The elaborate lie felt wrong, especially when he saw how much his sudden change in circumstances had affected them.
Solomon seemed to sense his internal conflict. "Perhaps a middle path exists," she suggested quietly. "Between complete disclosure and total fabrication."
Issei looked at her questioningly.
"Truth often wears many faces," she continued. "One can speak honestly without revealing everything."
Understanding dawned. Issei took a deep breath and turned back to his friends.
"Okay, here's the deal," he began, choosing his words carefully. "Something happened to me recently. Something... life-changing. I can't tell you all the details, partly because you wouldn't believe me and partly because it would put you at risk."
This partial honesty immediately captured their attention.
"Are you in some kind of trouble?" Matsuda asked, his tone shifting from accusatory to concerned.
"Not exactly," Issei hedged. "But my life has definitely taken an unexpected turn. These women really are staying here, and they really are from different countries with the backgrounds we mentioned. What I can't explain is... why they're here or how we're connected."
"Are you dying?" Motohama asked bluntly, his imagination apparently leaping to worst-case scenarios. "Is this some kind of Make-A-Wish thing where they're fulfilling your perverted fantasies before you kick the bucket?"
"What? No!" Issei exclaimed. "I'm not dying." *Not anymore, anyway,* he added mentally.
"Then what?" Matsuda pressed. "Witness protection? Long-lost royal heritage? Secret government experiment?"
"It's complicated," Issei sighed. "But I promise you this—I'm still me. I'm still the same perverted idiot you've always known. I've just... gained some unexpected companions and responsibilities."
"And combat training, apparently," Motohama observed shrewdly. "You look like you've been through a war zone, and Koneko doesn't hang out with people unless they can fight."
Issei rubbed his sore muscles ruefully. "Yeah, that's new too. Turns out I need to be in better shape for... reasons."
His friends studied him for a long moment, clearly weighing his partial explanation against their years of friendship.
"You swear you're not in danger?" Matsuda finally asked.
Issei hesitated, unwilling to lie outright. "I'm safer now than I was," he answered carefully. "These people are here to help me."