Chapter 95 – Michael!
After wrapping up his brief yet revealing meeting with Azazel, Akira returned home.
Their talk—shared over a couple cups of light sake—had cleared up quite a few tangled threads in his mind. More than ever, it was clear: the upcoming Three Faction Summit was far messier than he'd imagined. So many agendas. So many players.
He opened his front door.
Click—
And immediately locked eyes with a man sitting quietly in his living room.
A man with radiant golden hair, gentle features, and an aura so holy it made the room feel… different. Serene. Beside him stood Asia Argento, practically glowing with awe, hands folded in front of her as if standing before a saint. And next to him—someone a bit less welcome.
Irina Shidou.
"Forgive the unannounced visit, Lord Shin Akira," the golden-haired man said with a calm smile.
Akira narrowed his eyes slightly, his voice dry. "First Sirzechs, then Azazel, and now… His Holiness, Michael—the Chief Seraph of Heaven."
Michael.
One of the four great Seraphim. Heaven's supreme commander.
Since the death of the biblical God during the Great War, Michael had inherited divine authority and assumed control over the entire System of Heaven. In many ways, the entire infrastructure of Heaven now rested on his shoulders.
"Apologies for the sudden intrusion," Michael said, bowing his head slightly. Despite his immense status, his voice remained soft, his manner humble.
That was his nature—genuinely kind, perhaps even too kind.
"A guest is a guest," Akira replied flatly, stepping into the room. "Especially when that guest is the supreme leader of Heaven."
Michael offered a peaceful smile. "Thank you."
Irina, however, had no such calm. She stared at Akira with unconcealed disdain.
To her, this was the man who'd forcibly kept five Holy Swords for himself. And now, to top it off, he dared speak to Michael without a trace of reverence?
If not for the presence of her superior… she might've drawn her sword on him already.
"You came for something specific, I assume?" Akira said, gesturing for Michael to speak freely.
Michael nodded. "Indeed. There are a few matters I'd like to discuss."
"Go ahead."
"The first pertains to the five Holy Swords currently in your possession. As you know, they are sacred artifacts belonging to the Church."
"Oh?" Akira tilted his head slightly. "So... what's Heaven offering in return?"
A warm light shimmered in Michael's hand.
With a quiet swoosh, a gleaming white-and-gold blade appeared—its divine aura spilling into the room.
Akira recognized it instantly.
Ascalon. The Dragon-Slaying Holy Sword.
A legendary weapon, especially feared by dragonkind. It was one of the strongest Holy Swords ever forged, famed for its devastating effect on dragons and their kin.
"Well, well. Trading one dragon-slaying sword for five regular Holy Swords?" Akira smirked. "You really are a shrewd negotiator, Your Holiness."
"Does that mean you disapprove of the offer, Lord Shin Akira?"
"Not at all," Akira said with a shrug. "Honestly, those five swords are pretty useless to me. But Ascalon? Now that is different."
"Then… do we have an agreement?"
Akira gave a faint nod. "We do."
As if responding to his will, the five Holy Swords previously floating in his living room gently descended, landing neatly before Michael.
Irina's face twitched. Her anger was barely contained. These were sacred relics—treasures of the Church—and here they were, treated like coins in a back-alley barter.
Still, Michael remained calm. With grace and reverence, he accepted the swords, then extended Ascalon toward Akira with both hands.
A solemn exchange, clean and complete.
From a practical standpoint, Akira had lost nothing.
Without a Holy Sword Factor, the five swords were nothing more than trophies to him—dormant, sealed in power. Keeping them would've been a waste. But Ascalon, on the other hand… had potential.
And Akira never let potential go to waste.
After receiving the sword, he turned his gaze back to Michael.
No way Michael had come all this way just to trade swords. That alone didn't warrant a visit from the leader of Heaven.
Besides, when Kokabiel had stolen those very swords, the Church hadn't sent an army. They'd only dispatched two girls—Xenovia and Irina. That said enough about their true value in the grand scheme.
"You've been briefed about the upcoming summit, haven't you?" Michael asked gently.
"Sirzechs and Azazel already brought it up," Akira replied. "But I doubt you came here just to chat about peace talks."
Michael nodded slowly. "That's partially true. As things stand, the Red Dragon Emperor is aligned with the Devils. The White Dragon Emperor with the Fallen Angels. So, before the Three Faction Summit begins… I wanted to meet you, face to face."
Akira scoffed. "You really are what Azazel said… A walking embodiment of hypocritical angelic diplomacy."
His tone was cold. Not a shred of formality.
"You dare!" Irina snapped, stepping forward. Her voice rang sharply through the room. "Do you even understand who you're speaking to!?"
Before Akira could respond, Michael raised a hand.
"Irina."
His voice was as gentle as ever—but carried undeniable authority.
Irina bit her lip, fists clenched. Reluctantly, she stepped back beside her superior.
Michael sighed inwardly.
He knew full well—Akira wasn't someone to be taken lightly anymore.
He was young, yes. But his power had already reached Maou-class levels.
And more than that—he was the current Red Dragon Emperor.
That alone made him a major player in the supernatural world. Add in the fact that he was engaged to Rias Gremory, and had direct ties to Sirzechs Lucifer himself… There was no room for arrogance, even from Heaven.
Akira looked at Irina again, eyes calm yet sharp.
"You really haven't learned your lesson, have you, Irina Shidou?"
"What…?"
"That arrogant tone you used in front of Rias. Your reckless pride when facing Kokabiel. And now, your open disrespect toward me. You act like you're important, but the truth is—"
His voice dropped to a chill.
"—you're not. You're weak. And the only reason you're still breathing is dumb luck."
"You…!"
Irina started to move again—but froze under Michael's gaze.
She didn't dare take another step.
"Please forgive her," Michael said quietly. "Irina is still young and immature."
"Don't give me that," Akira replied. "We're the same age, Michael. Both of us are fifteen."
That shut him up for a moment.
Michael had momentarily forgotten—this teenager standing in front of him had already reached a height most would never touch in their entire lives.
Maou-Class.
Even among gods and divine beings, those who stood at that level could be counted on one hand.
"Let's cut the small talk," Akira said, crossing his arms. "What is it you really want from me?"
Michael hesitated only briefly before answering.
"Whether you realize it or not, your power and influence carry weight. And while you are technically Rias Gremory's fiancé… you are not officially affiliated with the Devil Faction. Which is why your stance during the Three Faction Summit matters greatly."
Akira let out a short laugh.
"You're all the same. You, Sirzechs, Azazel… asking the same thing."
"Oh? What do you mean?"
"Azazel brought it up this afternoon. Sirzechs hinted at it last night."
"…And your answer?"
"It's simple," Akira said with a dry smile. "I don't care. War, peace—do whatever you want. As long as you don't drag me into it, it's none of my business."
"I may be Rias's fiancé, but I don't belong to the Devil Faction."
"…I see." Michael nodded slowly, accepting the answer for what it was.
It wasn't what he had hoped to hear.
But at least it was honest.
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