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Chapter 307 ~ Meeting The Archangel

Basking in the warm glow of the morning sun beneath clear skies, Yuuji and Akeno sat together on the edge of the porch—the engawa just outside the dining room.

Akeno rested her head gently against his shoulder, eyes closed, her lips curved into a serene smile. Their fingers were interlaced, holding one another with quiet intimacy.

Yuuji still had his wings unfurled. One was a black, feathered demon wing—dark as a starless night—while the other was a radiant angelic wing, shimmering with divine light and a golden sheen. Together, they wrapped around Akeno in a protective, loving embrace.

Akeno had revealed her own as well: one fallen wing and one devil wing, the former curling tenderly around Yuuji in return, as if refusing to let him go.

By their side sat two cups of tea, brewed from leaves Akeno had carefully prepared—leaves Yuuji had gifted her for her home.

Peace blanketed the air. Only the soft whisper of the breeze, the rustle of leaves, and the gentle rhythm of their breaths filled the silence.

“Akeno-senpai—”

“Ah, Yuuji-kun.” She interrupted softly, lifting her gaze toward him.

Her eyes glistened with affection, her cheeks blooming with a gentle blush.

“Call me Akeno. Just… Akeno.”

Yuuji’s lips curved into a soft smile as he nodded.

“Akeno.”

She closed her eyes, savoring the way his voice caressed her name—warm, tender, and loving, melting straight into her heart.

Pressing herself deeper into his embrace, she exhaled contentedly.

“Yes~ What is it, Yuuji~?”

“I was thinking… Aika mentioned planning a day for everyone to come visit our home. Have you or Rias-senpai decided when?”

Akeno let out a light sigh.

“We’ve wanted to visit for a while now. But the Kokabiel incident and this summit have consumed so much of our time. If possible, we’d like to come after this. Would that be alright?”

“Of course. We’d love to have all of you over. It’ll be fun.”

“Fufu~ Thank you. I’m looking forward to it very much~”

Once again, the comfortable silence returned, wrapping them in a cocoon of warmth and closeness. Their hands remained intertwined, Yuuji’s thumb tracing gentle circles over Akeno’s skin, while she held onto him tightly, unwilling to let go.

Then, the air shifted. Yuuji felt the subtle ripple of space bending, his protective spell woven over the shrine responding instantly.

Someone had teleported onto the hill.

Someone with a holy presence.

“Ah,” Yuuji murmured, a calm smile tugging at his lips. “It seems our guest has arrived.”

Akeno slowly opened her eyes, her lips dipping into a small frown before turning into a pout. She hugged his arm tighter, pressing herself even more firmly against him.

“He had to come now…” she muttered softly.

She had only just begun to truly savor this precious time with him. And now, they had to stop early.

Why couldn’t the archangel, just this once, break his promise and let her have this day alone with Yuuji?

“It can’t be helped,” Yuuji said gently. “Let’s meet him first. Afterward, we can share dinner together. How does that sound?”

Her pout eased as she tilted her head up toward him, her eyes shimmering with anticipation. Only once he gave his promise did her frown melt into a radiant smile.

“Really~? Then, Yuuji-kun, will you cook for me~? Aika-chan always brags about your food, and I’d love to finally taste it~.”

“Of course,” he replied with an amused smile. “I’d love to.”

“Fufu~ That’s a promise~.”

With a satisfied grin, she finally loosened her hold on his arm. Their wings folded away, disappearing from sight, and together they rose to their feet. Hand in hand, fingers still intertwined, they made their way toward the shrine’s entrance.

The courtyard soon came into view.

And there, standing beneath the vivid red torii gate, was a breathtaking figure.

A golden halo floated above hair as pale as sunlight, cascading down his back like silk threads of radiance. The halo’s glow seemed to bathe him in an aura of sanctity. His eyes, deep emerald like the lushest leaves of spring, gleamed with unfathomable gentleness, compassion, and mercy.

But he was more than a symbol of God’s kindness. He was also a warrior.

His frame was adorned with resplendent golden armor. Heavy shoulder plates gleamed with divine light, draped with a pure white sash. Beneath, he wore a crimson robe, its fabric embroidered with a golden cross that stood out against his immaculate white alb.

Behind him, six pairs of radiant golden wings unfurled with quiet grace, their feathers stirring in the breeze—marking him as one of the highest of the Seraphim.

As Yuuji and Akeno approached, the man turned fully to face them—not just with his head, but with his entire being, as though granting them the fullness of his presence. His emerald gaze fixed on Yuuji, and for a fleeting moment, surprise flickered across his features before it settled into quiet understanding.

Irina’s words had painted him a picture of the mysterious Tsubakihara Yuuji, a man of staggering strength who had defeated Kokabiel with apparent ease. Michael had expected power. Overwhelming power.

But what he saw before him was… nothing.

No aura. No divine light. No infernal shadow. Nothing at all.

Even Akeno’s presence, delicate as it was, far eclipsed Yuuji’s. He was like an ordinary human. And yet, Michael knew better.

How interesting, he mused, his ever-present smile curving a touch wider.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said warmly, his voice like a hymn carried by the wind. 

“I am Michael, a Son of God and the current representative of Heaven. Thank you very much for accepting my request for this meeting.”

He inclined his head respectfully to Yuuji before turning with equal courtesy to Akeno.

“And thank you as well, Himejima-san, for helping to arrange this.”

Akeno bowed gracefully, her lips curling into a soft smile.

“It is my pleasure, Michael-sama.”

For any devil, standing in such proximity to one of Heaven’s mightiest Seraphim—an angel who bore within him unfathomable divine radiance—would have been unbearable. Even suppressed, Michael’s holy power would normally sear at their very existence.

Yet, Akeno felt none of that. Instead, warmth enveloped her entire being, as though she were resting in a gentle embrace.

She knew the reason. Her gaze flicked to Yuuji, and she tightened her grip on his hand.

“My name is Tsubakihara Yuuji,” he said with quiet composure. 

“It is my honor to meet you as well. Though I admit I do not know what has earned me this privilege, I am glad for the opportunity to meet the legendary Archangel of Heaven.”

Michael chuckled softly, lifting a hand in mild dismissal.

“Please, simply call me Michael. This meeting is the result of my own selfish request. I hope you do not find it troublesome.”

“Of course not,” Yuuji answered with a smile.

He glanced to Akeno, who gave a small nod, before gesturing toward the shrine.

“Then please, shall we move inside to continue our conversation?”

“Of course. Thank you kindly.”

With Akeno leading, Yuuji and Michael followed, the three of them stepping into the quiet sanctity of the shrine.

--------------------------------X--------------------------------

Within the quiet living room of the shrine, a serene stillness lingered in the air.

After serving tea, Akeno gracefully sat down beside Yuuji, her presence gentle yet reassuring.

Michael lifted the teacup with calm composure before speaking.

“First, I would like to extend my gratitude to you regarding the matter of the Holy Sword Durandal’s wielder, the gifted exorcist Xenovia Quarta.”

Though his voice remained steady and dignified, his downcast eyes carried a faint melancholy.

“Without my Father, the ‘system’ He left behind has begun to behave precariously. You may have noticed this already—Sacred Gears achieving the state of Balance Breaker with increasing frequency. While I have managed to preserve its core functions, even a slight disturbance in the faith of mankind could cause it to falter. That is why…”

Michael’s words trailed off.

He did not regret his decision, yet the weight of circumstances pressed heavily on him. Even now, a shadow of regret lingered in his heart.

“...She understands.”

Yuuji’s calm voice broke the silence, his eyes meeting the archangel’s soft, searching gaze.

“Xenovia came to me of her own will. Her decision was not born solely from her exile. She understood—perhaps more deeply than most—that the knowledge she carried would inevitably shake the faith of others if she remained. And so she chose to step away. She is content now… and I will ensure she continues to be.”

Michael’s lips curved into a faint smile as he lowered his head respectfully.

“I came here today wishing to meet you in person, to better understand your nature beyond mere hearsay. And from what I have seen, I find your character even more admirable than the strength you wield. You are powerful, yes—but you temper that power with compassion, kindness, and empathy. Such a rare balance… In ages past, those who bore such qualities were hailed as saints, heroes, and saviors. I am glad to have met you this day. Thank you.”

Yuuji let out a quiet, helpless chuckle and shook his head.

“Your praise is far too generous. Deep down, I am a selfish, greedy man.”

“Everyone carries flaws,” Michael replied gently. 

“Father knows  I bear my own. Nothing in this world is perfect. Yet in imperfection, there is beauty. For it is through imperfection that companionship, love, empathy, and generosity are born. I believe the very flaws you claim have brought happiness to those around you.”

As he said this, Michael’s gaze flickered briefly toward Akeno.

Yuuji followed his glance and turned to see Akeno smiling sweetly at him. The surprise in his eyes softened into warmth as he reached out, clasping her hand firmly. She returned his grasp, her touch tender and reassuring.

“Your words are truly enlightening, as expected of you. Thank you, Michael-sama.”

“I am glad to be of help,” the archangel replied with a serene smile.

Michael slowly lifted his hand, and a faint yet radiant light began to gather in his palm. From that brilliance, a blade emerged—beautifully forged, its silver edge gleaming with divine brilliance that seemed to breathe with holy power.

“This is Ascalon,” Michael said softly, reverently.

The European longsword shimmered gently in the glow. Its grey hilt bore an intricate design—a crimson diamond set at its center, encircled by four curved blue lines that flowed like veins of light. At its base rested a golden pommel, shaped like a downward-pointing arrowhead, gleaming with authority. Its guard extended outward, carved to resemble the claws of a dragon—fitting for a weapon long hailed as the Dragon Slayer.

Michael’s gaze softened as he presented the blade. 

“My second purpose in coming here is to entrust this sword to you, Tsubakihara Yuuji. In hopes that this sword may protect the most from the darkness in this world in your hands. And this meeting had only affirmed my decision.”

Yuuji regarded the sword in silence for a moment, his expression thoughtful yet respectful. At last, he offered a small, wry smile.

“My thanks. However…” He shook his head gently. 

“I already have a sword of my own.”

With a subtle motion, he extended his hand. A warm, dazzling light enveloped the room, pulsing with life. Within that radiance, a phantom appeared—a delicate young girl with silver hair and serene eyes. She descended gracefully, arms outstretched as though to embrace him, before vanishing into his form.

From the light emerged Est, her being materializing into the elegant greatsword that settled naturally into Yuuji’s grasp. Her blade glowed faintly, exuding an aura both pure and overwhelming, as though the heavens themselves bowed to her presence.

Michael’s composure faltered. His eyes widened, and for the first time in centuries, awe overtook his serene poise. He could feel it—an overwhelming, immeasurable power coursing from the sword.

“This… This is no ordinary blade.”

Yuuji chuckled softly, stroking the hilt with quiet fondness. 

“Est tends to get jealous rather easily.”

As if to affirm his words, a soft yet resolute voice echoed within the chamber.

“Master promised… I am the only sword he will wield. I am his one and only.”

Michael’s breath caught. His gaze lingered not on Yuuji, but upon the blade—upon her. This was no Sacred Gear, no divine relic forged in Heaven’s armories. The truth was clear. The weapon itself had birthed a soul—an independent will, a living spirit.

“A true… living blade,” Michael whispered, his tone laced with reverence. 

“Never in all the annals of Heaven have I seen such a phenomenon.”

Yuuji smiled faintly, his grip on Est tightening with warmth and trust. 

“I appreciate your generosity, Michael. But Est is my one and only. She is the only sword I’ll ever need.”

He lifted his gaze, meeting Michael’s eyes with calm certainty.

“That said… if it’s acceptable, I’d like to entrust Ascalon to someone else. Xenovia.”

Michael blinked, caught off guard. 

“Xenovia…?”

For a moment, he was silent. Then, slowly, a gentle smile touched his lips, and he nodded.

“I see… Yes. She will wield it with devotion, and carry its honor with pride. If it is by your will that she receives this gift, then I can entrust it to her without hesitation. Ascalon will indeed find itself in good hands.”