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Chapter 294 ~ Betrayer

“VALPER!!!!”

His roar shattered the air like thunder.

And without hesitation—Kiba dove.

Wind screamed past his ears as he descended like a meteor, blade drawn. The demonic sword he’d summoned burned with his fury, shaped into a broadsword of concentrated vengeance, wreathed in crackling dark light.

Valper barely turned before—

CLASH!!!

Kiba struck down, but his blade clashed against an artificially forged Excalibur wielded by one of the rogue exorcists by Valper’s side. Then, with a roar, the Excalibur glowed and Kiba’s strike was blown away, sending a shockwave across the courtyard. 

Valper took a few steps back, eyes wide.

“My, my… how you’ve grown, boy,” he said with cruel amusement. “Still playing the tragic hero?”

“You…” Kiba’s voice was low, trembling. “How dare you still show your face…! How dare you stand after all you’ve done?!”

“Oh, come now.” Valper chuckled, holding out a forged Excalibur shard in his hand. “Didn’t you always want to be chosen? To wield the holy sword? I merely accelerated the process—you survived, didn’t you?”

“SHUT UP!!”

Kiba lunged like a bolt of judgment.

Valper’s mocking smirk vanished the moment Kiba’s sword met steel. The six rogue exorcists surged to intercept, their counterfeit Excalibur fragments howling with unstable holy energy.

CLANG—CLANG—SHHHHRING!!

Kiba parried, dodged, countered—but this wasn’t like before. The sheer chaotic power of the forgeries pushed him back inch by inch. His blade sparked against the corrupted holy swords, which pulsed erratically—each strike threatening to break reality itself.

“GET HIM!”

The exorcists attacked in tandem.

One slashed from the side. Another came from above.

Kiba twisted midair, narrowly avoiding both.

But then, a third blade came in low—grazing his side.

“Gh—!”

Blood sprayed. He dropped to one knee, panting.

The fragments were too erratic—too dangerous.

“You heretics!” Xenovia shouted, slashing through one rogue exorcist that tried to flank him.

Asia stood from afar, hiding behind a ruined building as she channeled healing light from her sacred gear to heal Kiba from afar while protecting the unconscious Irina at the same time. But with distance and her decreasing mana, the wounds that would’ve healed in an instant now were barely closing.

“Kiba-san… Please… hang on!”

Their voices reached him as he clenched his teeth in pain, both physically and spiritually. 

Seeing the figure of his torturer, the murderer of his family, friends, and his innocence after so long not only brought upon a rage he had buried for so long, but broke something within him as well. 

But then… from the edge of his mind, voices from inside his heart reverberated.

Faint whispers at first… voices from long ago.

The pain in his body faded as a deeper ache surged from within. His grip on his sword tightened.

Suddenly—

A strange warmth pulsed from his demonic blade.

At that moment, time slowed.

He stood—not on the battlefield—but within a memory.

“Kiba… don’t cry. If we’re together, we’ll be okay, right?”

“It hurts, but… we’ll survive. One day, we’ll live free.”

He turned around.

They were there. The children he had grown up with in the Church’s sword project.

Their eyes were kind. Sad. Smiling.

“Yuuto… You’re so grown up now. I’m so proud.”

“It’s nice to see you again, onii-chan.”

“Hey, why are you crying?”

Kiba starred in a daze, warm tears flowing down his face without him realizing.

“Come on… Don’t just stand there. Didn’t you promise us?

“Live.”

“Carry our dreams.”

“Take this strength, and don’t let him or anyone else take the happiness and freedom you’ve gained.”

“Be happy, Yuuto… For our share as well.”

Kiba clenched his jaw. 

Pain. Regret. Sadness. Yearning. All the emotions he had buried deep inside his heart resurfaced. 

It hurt… It hurt him so much. 

Yet amidst the pain, he couldn’t help but feel happy to be able to see them once again. To hear their voice. To feel their warmth. 

‘That’s right… I’ve… made a promise…’

“Everyone… I’m sorry…”

To think he’d forget such a thing…

“You’re right… I won’t run anymore. For all of you… And for myself…”

He raised his sword. His friends touched it. 

It responded.

The demonic weapon burst with light and darkness intertwined. It reshaped into a sleek, beautiful black-and-crimson longsword—pure, elegant, and terrifying in power.

Balance Breaker: Holy-Demonic Sword – Sword of Betrayer.

A radiant storm exploded around him, swirling light and shadow in harmony.

Everyone paused—even Valper.

“That sword… it’s a combination of holy and demonic power…”

Valper’s expression twisted with disbelief.

“No—no, that’s impossible…! Such a thing—such a contradiction—cannot exist!”

He took a step back.

Kiba slowly walked forward, sword dragging behind him, eyes locked on the man who had haunted his nightmares.

“Except… If God is dea-”

But before he could take another step—

A sudden spear of light descended from the heavens.

SHLUNK!

It tore through Valper’s back and burst from his chest.

Valper let out a wet, choking gasp—blood dribbling from his lips as he dropped the corrupted sword. The light burned through him mercilessly, cracking bone and searing flesh.

Everyone froze as the figure descended from above—Kokabiel, still crackling with divine wrath, floated in the air with a twisted grin.

“Heh… heh heh heh… Now now, that’s not for you to spoil~”

His voice was a whisper—guttural and mad.

“But alas. Since you’ve practically spoiled it, I should just reveal it now.”

Kokabiel turned towards Xenovia and Asia. Poor little girls who blindly followed the words of something that didn’t exist anymore.

“There’s a reason… your precious God… never responds…”

Rias’s eyes widened. “What are you saying…?”

Kokabiel smiled. A smile full of blood and blasphemy.

“God is dead.”

Time stopped.

No one breathed.

Xenovia stumbled back in horror—eyes wide, as if the earth had been pulled out from beneath them.

Xenovia’s hands shook. “No… that can’t be…”

But Kokabiel only smirked, confirming the unholy truth.

“Dead for a long time now. And the angels just kept up the lie. I must say, Michael truly did his best for quite a while now. I’m impressed. But, there’s a limit to his abilities.”

Kokabiel revelled at the sight of these broken little lambs, standing there in despair, in disbelief. 

“You sure like to talk, huh?”

“Hm?”

Kokabiel turned in shock from the unexpected voice from behind him. 

“Fall.”

Then—

CRACK!!!

A thunderous impact rocked the ground.

A blur of black slammed down from the sky like divine judgment.

And in the sky, standing tall, a figure clad in black with a devilish mask covering his visage stood. In his hand, a beautiful greatsword, gleaming with brilliant light and humming with barely restrained power of something not only holy, but warm, gentle, and comforting.

Everyone stared—devils and humans alike.

“That’s…”

Rias couldn’t tear her eyes away from the man in black descending like a celestial judge.

Yuuji.

Even now, as his golden aura dimmed to a soft, pulsing glow and the divine warmth faded from her body, her heart raced—not from fear, but from awe.

It was as if her body had remembered the pain, only to realize it was gone. Her exhaustion, the burning in her limbs, her drained magic—all of it vanished in an instant.

She flexed her fingers. Power surged. Her energy returned to its peak, her magic circuits refined and recharged, the aches in her body smoothed away like mist under the morning sun.

The same was true for everyone else.

Koneko blinked and stood up with a confused scowl. “I’m not tired anymore…”

Issei clenched his fists, his gauntlet glowing faintly. “My stamina’s back… like I was never hit at all.”

She looked up once more, and her breath caught.

There Yuuji stood, midair, suspended in divine stillness.

A dark-clad warrior cloaked in sacred golden light. Sword in hand. Masked. Silent.

A force that existed outside of mortal limits.

And yet, despite all of that, he had chosen to fight beside them.

To heal them.

To protect them.

She closed her eyes for a moment, the weight of admiration and gratitude settling gently on her chest.

Meanwhile, Kokabiel was a wreck.

The fallen angel cadre groaned from the crater, black feathers scattered around him like torn parchment.

Blood dripped from his lips as he glared upward, eyes wide and trembling.

“W-Who… who are you…?”

Yuuji didn’t answer.

He simply raised a hand.

Kokabiel’s body lurched into the air, suspended by invisible force, rising until he was face to face with the golden-eyed warrior.

“You’ve caused enough chaos,” Yuuji said coldly, his voice layered with power. “There’s no longer any place for your delusions in this world.”

“You… YOU DARE—!”

Kokabiel screamed, and a barrage of hundreds of light spears burst into existence behind him, spiraling outward in a formation meant to annihilate everything in their path.

But—

CLANG. CLANG. CRASH!

Ripples of golden light shimmered around Yuuji.

Weapons rained from them—spears, swords, halberds, axes—each one faster than sound.

In an instant, every light spear was obliterated, shattered mid-creation before they could even launch. The sky pulsed with the echo of divine steel crashing against cursed light.

Kokabiel felt his breath catch in his throat.

This… this wasn’t possible.

He was a Cadre! A commander of the Great War! A herald of death and destruction! And yet—

He couldn’t even react before he felt the cold wind of death.

SHHHHLICK!

A white-hot pain erupted from his back.

Kokabiel screamed as all five pairs of his wings were severed, feathers and blood cascading downward like ink-stained snow.

Then—

“[Silence],” Yuuji spoke again, his voice echoing with arcane sheen of finality.

Kokabiel’s scream cut off instantly, as if snatched from existence. His mouth opened in agony, but no sound came out.

The world around him grew still.

Even the wind seemed to obey Yuuji.

And then, to everyone’s confusion—

Yuuji turned his head slightly, his gaze fixed on… seemingly nothing.

“Hey,” he called out calmly. “Time to pick up your baggage. Make sure he never crawls out of his hole again.”

Everyone on the ground looked at each other, bewildered.

Then—

Flicker.

A tall figure appeared in midair. White hair. Mechanical silver wings glowing with blue light. A faint grin danced on his lips.

Vali Lucifer.

The White Dragon Emperor.

Excitement and wariness danced across his expression like lightning—he was clearly torn between fighting and fleeing.

“...You’re truly something, Mordred,” he said with a chuckle, eyes fixated on Yuuji’s armored form.

Yuuji floated forward silently, his gaze unreadable beneath the mask.

He extended his hand, and Kokabiel’s limp, maimed form was lifted into the air, before he threw it towards Vali.

“Take him back to Azazel. It’s over.”

Vali caught the body without flinching.

But he didn’t immediately teleport. Instead, he glanced down—toward Issei.

The Red Dragon Emperor of this generation.

His destined rival.

Yet… somehow, his eyes kept being drawn back to the man in black.

To Mordred.

Something in his soul screamed for the day they would clash.

The day he could test himself against a man who had rewritten his view of strength.

Then, with one final glance at the shocked devils and shaken holy sword-wielders, Vali gave a crooked grin.

“I’ll see you soon.”

With that, he took Kokabiel and vanished in a flare of light.