"Kid, what's that supposed to mean?"
Kokabiel's eyes narrowed, a prickling sense of being played gnawing at him. He hated that feeling—hated it enough to kill.
Tenra just smiled, light and careless. "Don't worry about it. Just talking to myself."
He handed Xenovia off to Irina, then strode toward Rias and the others, his steps calm and unhurried.
"Rias, President Sona—the clock's ticking. Let me handle things from here."
With a flick of his hand, Tenra summoned the gentle glow of [Holy Mother's Smile], Sacred Gear light weaving over their wounds, knitting flesh and bone with effortless grace.
"We can still fight…" Rias tried to rise, stubborn pride burning in her eyes. But her strength gave out; she wavered, and Akeno rushed to steady her.
"Little princess, you've pushed your magic too far. You can't go on," Akeno murmured, voice gentle but firm.
Ddraig's voice echoed from the jewel on Tenra's armor, deep and resonant. "Rias, as much as it pains you, Kokabiel isn't an enemy you can defeat right now. Leave him to Kamiyo Tenra."
Sona nodded, her own frustration written plain across her face. "He's right, Rias. We have to trust him."
Rias clenched her jaw, trembling with helpless anger. But reason won out. "I understand…"
She looked at Tenra, eyes shining with hope and self-loathing. "Tenra… please. You have to stop him. For all of us."
"For you, my princess? Anything."
Tenra brushed her forehead, his smile softening. But behind his eyes, something sharp and cold flashed.
Letting the girls fight was always part of the plan—to make them taste their own limits. But seeing Kokabiel batter his fiancée, his friends, his family… that bastard had more than earned his punishment.
"Little princess, fighting alongside you was a pleasure. But I'll leave the rest to my partner."
"Thank you, Ddraig. Next time, let's fight together again."
Rias gathered herself, regal once more, and dismissed the Red Dragon Emperor's armor. Ddraig's presence faded back into Tenra.
Knowing the real battle was about to begin, the girls exchanged glances with Tenra, then retreated, ceding the field to him and Kokabiel.
Kokabiel scoffed, folding his arms. "I've heard the rumors, but even those two Maou's sisters and all their servants together couldn't put a scratch on me. You think you can take me alone?"
A slow, dangerous grin spread across Tenra's lips. "One is all you need."
He didn't waste another word.
"Boost!!"
A torrent of power exploded skyward. The Red Dragon Emperor's armor snapped into place around him, crimson scales gleaming with lethal promise.
Kokabiel's face finally cracked—shock flickering in his eyes. That aura… No doubt. This boy was his equal.
"Kokabiel. Surprised already? That's just the beginning."
Tenra vanished—a blur—and reappeared in front of Kokabiel, fist already cocked.
WHAM!
Kokabiel's eyes bulged. He spat blood, body rocketing through the sky like a broken comet.
He barely managed to right himself, fury and disbelief twisting his face. "You little bastard! DIE!"
He raised both arms, conjuring a spear of light above his head—growing, swelling, until it blotted out the stars. With a snarl, he hurled it down at Tenra.
"Ddraig! Let's do this!"
"Ready, partner!"
Tenra shot upward, red gauntlet blazing. His fist met the heavenly spear in midair.
BOOM!
The night split open—blinding light, a shockwave of flame. Yubelluna and the others strained to hold the barrier, the entire town trembling under the impact.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Skyborne, crimson and black streaks crashed and danced—Tenra and Kokabiel locked in a brutal, beautiful war.
"President…!"
"So strong… So cool!"
"Go, President! Beat that jerk! Show him what you're made of!"
The kendo club girls pressed against the windows, shouting their hearts out. They didn't understand the stakes—but they knew who to cheer for.
Rias and Sona exchanged weary smiles, pride and pain mingling in their eyes.
"We're still not there, are we?" Sona said quietly.
"Not yet," Rias admitted. "But one day…"
They watched as Tenra, alone, held his own against a monster they could barely touch.
In the sky, the battle raged hotter. Tenra and Kokabiel slammed into each other, fists ringing like thunder. At first, they seemed evenly matched—blow for blow, neither giving ground.
But after thousands of exchanges, Kokabiel began to falter. His flesh-and-blood fists couldn't withstand Tenra's iron gauntlets—blood spattered, bones threatened to snap.
Snarling, desperate, Kokabiel changed tactics. He spun, black wings slicing through the air like blades.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Sparks flew as ten obsidian wings carved deep gouges into the Red Dragon Emperor's armor.
Tenra landed, unfazed. A ripple of energy, and the cracks sealed themselves as if they'd never existed.
"Still want to go another round?" he taunted.
Kokabiel's chest heaved. His once-mighty wings dripped blood, little more than torn bone and shredded feathers.
"Don't get cocky, you damned brat!" Kokabiel roared.
He conjured a magic array—hundreds of spears of light shot toward Tenra in a blinding barrage.
Explosions rocked the sky. But Tenra, shielded by his [Blade Blacksmith]—an impenetrable barrier—emerged untouched.
Kokabiel stared, wild-eyed. "Impossible! That's—impossible!"
Tenra only smiled. "There's no such thing as impossible. You just overestimated yourself, Kokabiel."
He vanished—reappeared in front of Kokabiel, fists flying.
"MILLION RED FISTS!"
A storm of blows—relentless, merciless. Kokabiel screamed, battered from all sides, unable to defend, unable to escape.
CRASH!
At last, Kokabiel's body—broken, bloodied—plummeted from the sky, smashing into the field below. The earth cratered, dust billowing.
Onlookers gaped, speechless. The invincible Kokabiel, reduced to a ragdoll.
"Impossible… Impossible…" Kokabiel gasped, trying to rise, his pride shattered. A fallen angel cadre, a survivor of wars with gods and Maou—beaten by a devil brat whose bloodline hadn't even awakened?
What a sick joke.
Nearby, Raynare smirked. Mittelt and Kalawarner gulped, awe and terror mingling in their eyes.
Maybe… Maybe being that man's servant wasn't such a bad fate after all.
Tenra descended, eyes cold as winter. He hovered above Kokabiel, one palm raised—a silent promise of retribution.
"You wanted chaos, Kokabiel. You wanted war. Be ready to pay the price."
Elsewhere, on the far side of Kuoh Town—
Water murmured under the moonlight. On a wooden bridge, a middle-aged man lounged with a fishing rod, utterly at ease.
Azazel, Governor of the Fallen Angels.
"Oi, Vali. If you wait any longer, Kokabiel's going to get himself killed," Azazel called, glancing at the silver-haired youth beside him.
"Tch. You're always bossing me around," Vali grumbled. But he didn't argue further. In a flash of silver light, he shot skyward, vanishing into the night.
Azazel grinned to himself, stroking his chin. "Acts all annoyed, but he's dying to see what happens. Vali's such a tsundere."
He chuckled, eyes glittering with mischief. Red Dragon Emperor. White Dragon Emperor. Fated rivals, about to collide.
Now this… this was going to be fun.
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