{5 Years Later — Haunted Mountain, Airi Town}
Progressing with Shadow Wretch wasn't as smooth as Soren or Veylith had expected. It was rather difficult to increase the power.
Not because Soren lacked skill, or because the gear wasn't strong enough. It was simply due to his age.
He had awakened the gear at the age of three, and it took him two years just to sprout wings and take to the sky.
At five, he was finally able to manifest them fully.
His wings weren't mechanical or mecha-esque—they were fleshy, membraned, and ragged, with a monstrous look. Black, with the fleshy parts tinted purple.
The sprouting of the wings allowed him to sneak out of the orphanage more easily and reach the forest for his daily training sessions sooner.
Every night after awakening his gear, he tried to increase his draconic power, unlock more basic skills, and adjust to the gear.
The problem was his body. At three, his skeleton was soft, his muscles insufficient, and his body couldn't handle large amounts of draconic power. Even the gear's initial awakening had required external intervention—the blessing from Vasco Strada.
After two years, at age five, his body had grown stronger. Muscle mass increased, bones thickened, and his brain developed further. He could now improve his powers a little more.
The draconic power in his body had grown. He could sprout wings and even learned a new skill.
{Draconic Breath: Releases the legendary black flames of Veylith from your mouth, burning the target.
Veylith's flames lack the intense heat of other dragons, but to compensate, the flames carry one random effect: poisoning, paralysis, blinding, or confusion. Only one effect applies per target.}
Flight, too, was considered a basic skill, though its description was minimal—simply the ability to sprout wings and fly.
Now, three years later, at age eight, he finally made a breakthrough.
'Good,' Veylith praised. 'Now that your body is stronger, your power has increased significantly.'
He could feel it—Soren's power had grown multiple folds over the last five years.
He had started at the very bottom in raw power, but now he had enough strength to clash with a middle-class devil and survive.
It was impressive for someone without a supernatural physique. To handle the power of a middle-class devil while in the body of a five-year-old human was remarkable. Veylith felt pride.
Most hosts of Albion and Ddraig who awakened the gear young were of mixed blood—devils, fallens, yokai, or other supernaturals—giving them sturdy bodies capable of handling such power.
Pure humans, however, needed more time and had to reach a certain age before they could manage it.
It wouldn't have been impossible to exert that strength at age three—Veylith could force it—but the human body would crumble, most likely killing the host. Patience was necessary. Even now, Soren's growth was miraculous.
'Can I awaken the Balance Breaker at this stage?' Soren asked, destroying a massive tree with a single Dragon Shot. The dark energy burned and erased the trunk, leaving almost no debris.
'Technically, you can,' the dragon said. 'You're already at middle-class. Power-wise, you have enough to awaken it.'
'But…' Soren raised an eyebrow, already anticipating Veylith's words.
'But you still need a year or two before your body—especially your bones—can handle the strain of the Balance Breaker,' Veylith explained. 'The weight and compressive strength of full-body armor might crush your bones, and you could suffer severe internal injuries.'
Soren clicked his tongue and checked his current skills.
{Basic Skills: Dragon Aura, Dragon Shot, Flight, Draconic Breath}
{Core Skulls: Imprint, Wretch}
What he had was respectable, but not extraordinary. Since he had yet to meet a supernatural being to copy or steal a skill from, he was no different from a simple, weak dragon—or even a half-dragon.
He wished Vasco would appear again. Veylith had praised the Cardinal for carrying an enormous amount of Holy Power, but unfortunately, Vasco had kept his promise and hadn't appeared even once since then.
There were still five more years before he would return to take him to the Vatican.
'The best way we can grow our current strength without destroying my body is probably by copying some skills.'
The singular-use and triple-use skills. He wanted to keep those slots filled, giving himself more breathing room and time to think carefully about what to steal permanently.
The Power of Destruction was the obvious choice, but he clearly didn't have access to it yet. Nor could he even imagine where he'd find a dead Gremory. And even if he somehow did, he'd need a very detailed explanation for how he could wield a Gremory bloodline ability if he were ever forced to explain himself.
'Or should I let people know that I can steal powers?'
He shot that thought down immediately. The moment someone figured it out, they'd hunt him down. Either to keep their powers away from him, or to replicate the method themselves—most likely by ripping him apart and turning him into a test subject. He needed to be at least a High Class to do something that risky.
So for now, the Power of Destruction was off the table.
Another option crossed his mind. Infinity.
From a certain dragon with a childlike appearance.
Ophis.
The thought alone made even Veylith go pale.
"Don't even think about it, boy," the dragon warned. He wasn't daring enough to try anything funny involving Ophis.
Because how do you even kill something like that?
In the end, Soren had no clear answer. Veylith offered a few suggestions, but most were outdated. Either those beings were long dead, or completely untouchable in his current state.
{Dragon Aura}
Dark purple energy wrapped around his body as he extended his hand toward a cluster of trees.
{Dragon Shot}
The orb, reinforced by Dragon Aura, tore through them, erasing the trunks entirely.
"You know what we have to do, right?" he asked.
Veylith stayed silent for a moment, then answered. "I do."
Both spoke at the same time. "Kuoh."
They didn't know who was in charge of Kuoh at the moment, but the caretakers often talked about rumors—devils and fallen being sighted in the neighboring town.
The women prayed it wasn't true, believing it to be nothing more than people's imaginations. But Soren knew better. Kuoh was active.
On top of that, the yokai faction had a strong presence there as well. Which meant one thing—supernaturals were almost guaranteed.
It was their best bet to copy abilities and grow stronger.
So even with a heavy sense of caution, both agreed. Kuoh was the way forward.
"Tomorrow… no, this weekend," Soren decided. "We'll go to Kuoh. At night, obviously."
The dragon didn't argue. He agreed.
They decided to call it a night and plan properly for Kuoh.
With his wings sprouted, Soren shot back toward the orphanage.
Hoping nothing went wrong in Kuoh.
'It should be fine, right?' he thought. 'The main cast, the whole walking disaster group, isn't there yet. So it should be fine… right?'
'Maybe,' Veylith replied.
The dragon didn't sound confident. In the supernatural world, certainty was a luxury.
* * *
{Same Time — The Vatican}
—Vasco Strada—
"So, you still don't wish to let the archangels turn you?"
Vasco had been asked that question dozens of times. But this man alone had asked it nearly half of those times.
"As I've said before, when I die, I want to die as a human—just as God made me."
His answer hadn't changed in years. It always left the exorcists, and even the angels, a little saddened. Vasco would have made a great angel. With his strength and compassion, he would've been remembered for ages.
But Vasco had no such desire. All he wanted was to die peacefully as a human.
The man beside him was middle-aged, with black hair and church vestments. He was ranked just below Vasco in authority.
Ewald Cristaldi.
The third most powerful man in the Vatican. Cardinal Deacon. One of the legendary Holy Sword wielders.
Like Vasco, he was a natural-born wielder of Holy Swords. And like Vasco, he used that talent to slay devils—and to teach the next generation how to wield a blade properly.
"It's not like you weren't offered the same," Vasco said, glancing at his fellow swordsman. "You declined too, remember?"
Ewald chuckled. "I did. I want to dedicate my life to teaching the kids. As an angel, I'd be stuck doing cleanup and heaven's work most of the time."
Cleanup, in this case, referred to something far more dangerous than it sounded, and Vasco knew that well. Still, he also knew Ewald didn't exactly dislike that kind of work.
He just loved teaching more.
"How is your teaching going?" Vasco asked as they walked toward the main body of the church. "Have any of the kids shown something notable?"
"A few," Ewald replied, pride clear in his voice. "Some more than the others."
Vasco nodded. "As God intended. Everyone excels at different things, and some just happen to be skilled with swords."
Ewald couldn't deny that. Both he and Vasco were living proof of it.
"Griselda's ward is one of them," he added, slowing his steps. "She's a natural-born Holy Sword wielder."
That made the bald Cardinal smile. "Then we should find out which sword suits her best."
Natural-born Holy Sword wielders were rare, like finding a needle in a haystack. Every time the Vatican discovered one, they spared no effort in nurturing that talent.
"She is gifted," Ewald sighed. "Unfortunately, she's also reckless and stubborn. It'll be a while before we can even think about finding her a sword. She still needs to polish her basics and perfect her form."
Vasco laughed. "Of course. Talents like that rarely come without trouble. Still, don't focus only on her. Others might show potential as well."
"That won't happen," Ewald said, shaking his head immediately. "You know as well as I do that Holy Sword wielders are born with the ability. It isn't something you acquire. I've checked, they don't have it."
"That's true," Vasco agreed. "But you also know that many children take time before their aptitude fully shows. Some start with basic sensitivity to Holy Power or other minor talents."
It wasn't the first time something like that had happened.
Ewald didn't deny it. His own ability had manifested late as well. He'd been nearly seven when his talent truly awakened.
"I'm keeping an eye on those sensitive to Holy Power," Ewald assured him, meeting his gaze. "And I know better than to focus on just one student. I've been teaching for decades, Strada. Every child is equal to me."
Vasco had no doubts about that. He knew Ewald well enough to trust his judgment.
With that, they continued toward the church, both fully aware that more pressing matters awaited them with the rest of the council.
Vasco's trip to Kuoh five years ago had revealed that devils and fallens were active in the human world once more, and this time at a much higher level than before.
He hadn't been able to find the devils in Kuoh back then, but he had sensed their lingering presence. The fallens, however, he did find. And needless to say, he took care of them.
He hadn't even needed Durandal. His holy fists were more than enough to eradicate them, along with a few infested buildings in the process.
"Also," Ewald suddenly remembered, "when are you bringing that child from Japan? The one you told me about?"
The memory of that boy immediately put a smile on Vasco's face.
"You said he was extremely sensitive to Holy Power," Ewald continued, clearly amused. "That he absorbed the blessing you gave him like a sponge, read complex books, and spoke fluently when he should've been playing in the dirt." He paused, then added, "Even if he doesn't have the aptitude to wield a Holy Sword, those traits alone could make him a top exorcist. And if not that, then certainly a member of the inner assembly." After a brief pause, he added, "There's also the chance that he's blessed in another way."
Vasco knew exactly what Ewald meant.
A Sacred Gear.
It was highly possible that Soren possessed one. After all, he had the talent for it.
'Those gifts could very well be because of that,' Vasco considered. And the thought of a boy with both a Sacred Gear and a high sensitivity to Holy Power was far too valuable to ignore.
"In about two years," Vasco answered. "That's when I promised to bring him here."
'He should be eight by now,' the old man mused. 'I wonder how much he's grown, and what new talents have surfaced?'
"Good," Ewald nodded, satisfied. "Griselda would be happy to nurture someone like that. At least someone who listens to adults for once."
They both chuckled, thinking of the same blue-haired ward Griselda Quarta had taken in.
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{A/N: Got a pat reon named RedLamp01 with 30+ chapters for this story (60+ total).
Till Chapter 35 available on Pat reon for this story and till Chapter 79 available for DxD: Heir of Asura.}