The combat experience has always been a watershed - an invisible wall between those who survive and those who die. It doesn't matter how fast or powerful an opponent is. Without experience, all brute force is just wasted potential.
Antares knew this better than anyone. He had already decimated entire armies, defeated divine commanders and torn out rulers' hearts with his bare hands.
And yet...
He had never used gauntlets before.
Swords. Claws. Magic. Fists wrapped in pure power. But gauntlets? That was new.
The Monarch of Destruction. The King of Dragons. A name that made the heavens tremble. And yet there he was, testing weapons like a warrior in training.
He was a man of few words... and absolute destruction.
"These toys are tough..." he muttered, looking at the gauntlets on his wrists - one deep red, pulsing like fresh blood, the other a deeper shade, almost black like clotted wine.
Tough. Yes, they withstood impacts well... but they didn't increase his strength on their own. Not like his ancestral sword did.
'The boost I get... is strong. Very strong. But my current body is still too weak to sustain it for long.
He gasped.
The heat was stifling, but what really weighed him down was the energy. His body, on the outside, looked intact - but on the inside, it was in tatters. The [Boosted Gear]'s impulses amplified his demonic power, but they also pushed every cell to the limit.
It felt as if every bone was under pressure, as if it would collapse at any moment.
[Time remaining: 00:12:02]
A slow sigh escaped his lips. The scorching sand scratched his ankles as he walked slowly through the dunes. The sun above seemed closer - as if the sky was falling in on him.
"This place..." he murmured, his golden eyes narrowing as he surveyed the surrounding desert. "... it was created in the same way as the Rulers' portals. That miserable trick of opening dimensional rifts and forcing the planet to absorb mana like an addictive drug..."
The sand slipped beneath his boots as he sat atop a dune, the scorching heat ignored as if it were a mere breeze. Silently, he called up the system.
[STATUS]
[Name]: Hyoudou Issei (Antares)
[Profession]: None
[Title]: None
[HP]: 230 / 230
[MP]: 220 / 220
[Level]: 7
[STR]: 27
[AGI]: 22
[SENSE]: 32
[VIT]: 23
[INT]: 22
[Available Points]: 7
He looked at the numbers coldly. It wasn't much... but it was something.
"I'm not going to invest those points now." His voice came out low, controlled. "My first intention was simple: all in strength. Because in the end, strength is everything."
He clenched his fist, feeling the sand slip through his fingers.
"But this world... it's different."
Here, there were rules. Limitations. Variables. Being brutal wasn't enough. Being destructive, even less so. He had been reborn in a system that played with other logics. And if he wanted to destroy it... he had to learn its gears.
"Speed, Perception, Intelligence... even Mana..." he reflected, his eyes fixed on the sun burning on the horizon. "I can't rely on brute strength alone, not anymore."
It was a bitter but necessary conclusion.
In his old world, he crushed everything with sheer presence. But there... the laws of the game demanded adaptation. And if there was one thing he did better than destroy - it was evolve to destroy even more.
He closed the status flap and inhaled deeply. The energy of the environment was still pressing down on his body, but he was beginning to get used to it, like a snake adapting to the heat of the desert.
"Let's go back." He said smiling, looking at the screen...
[Time Remaining: 00:00:21]
CLARION.
In the blink of an eye, the desert disappeared. The heat, the sand, the burning sky... Everything was gone.
And then he was back.
In the usual stuffy, silent room. The ceiling light flickered faintly, as if even she was tired.
"...Tch." Antares grumbled, rolling lazily from side to side on the bed. "My body's all sore..."
He rubbed one hand over his face, feeling his muscles still tense.
"The Boost... that damn power... it's costing me more and more." He muttered in a slurred voice. "I need to stop using it like a disposable toy."
His eyes leisurely wandered around the room until they rested on the bedside table.
A briefcase lay half open, balancing precariously on its edge, as if about to fall off at any moment.
"Ah... that's right..." he muttered, remembering something completely insignificant - at least to him.
"She told me to hand out those stupid flyers."
His voice carried a lazy, almost bored disdain.
He remembered the brief, arrogant explanation: leaflets were an old but effective method. Humans with some potential, when they came into contact with them, could make a contract and summon one of the demons from Rias' group. A convenient way of finding promising souls... or just desperate ones.
But... Did Antares really distribute any?
Of course not.
He laughed briefly, a dry, almost emotionless sound.
"As if I'm going to waste my time with that kind of nonsense."
For him, this was an empty task. Irrelevant. Pathetic. And if anyone wanted his help, let them come up with something worthy of his attention.
The folder remained there, precariously propped up, as if even the papers inside it were embarrassed by the pointlessness of the mission.
He turned his face into the pillow and closed his eyes.
"Maybe I'll just burn everything tomorrow. It'll save time."
The words were barely out of his mouth when...
[Relationship System Activated]
[Notification: It is recommended to maintain ties and good coexistence with Rias Gremory if you wish to remain alive].
The room fell silent. Antares blinked slowly, frowning in pure disdain.
"...What the fuck?"
His voice came out low, laden with distrust and restrained anger.
"Are you trying to make me fawn over that redhead for some ridiculous little reward?"
[Negative.]
[Explanation: Players not affiliated with any faction will automatically be marked as 'Savage Anomalies'. Result: Hunted by angels, exorcists, high-ranking demons, dragon hunters, holy entities and other forces of order].
[The current recommendation is a temporary alliance with Rias Gremory. Her faction offers minimal political protection until the player reaches a High Class Demon threat level. After that, it will be possible to create your own Clan].
Antares was silent for a few seconds. Then he got up slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed. His golden eyes shone in the dim light.
"Hmph... So that's it. The world is a chessboard and either I choose a faction... or I become a monster on the loose and get hunted down like garbage."
He stared at the wall, but he could see far beyond it.
"Pathetic." Joining someone, even temporarily, went against his nature. But if it gave him time... If it gave him room to grow without interference...
"What a disgrace." He stood up, picked up the folder with the leaflets in one hand, and stared at the contents like someone looking at something rotten.
The next day.
The sun hadn't even reached the top of the sky when Antares pushed open the door of the Occult Club with his foot.
He was exhausted.
His ears were burning from the early morning wind. His legs ached from walking. And his patience had already been buried in some alleyway as he stuffed leaflets into letterboxes all over the city - like a cursed advertising delivery man.
And to make matters worse, he didn't even get a lousy "thank you" from the redhead.
"Idiot..."
He muttered as he crossed the room, his eyes squinting like those of a wild animal about to snap.
That's when he noticed: she was already there.
Koneko. Sitting on the sofa, as always, silent, hugging her legs, with that expression of profound boredom. Her gaze lifted briefly when she noticed his presence.
Antares, however, didn't say a word.
Not "hello", not "good morning", not "excuse me".
He simply walked across the room like a zombie, threw himself on the sofa next to her and... toppled over. His head fell on the girl's small, firm shoulder with the weight of someone carrying a thousand planets on their back.
"..."
Koneko froze.
Her eyes widened slightly. Her body tensed, almost as if it was going to explode.
An unexpected heat rose to her cheeks... the Antisocial and Intimidating Monster she was known for despite her cuteness, had just had an unwelcome intruder lay on her shoulder.
Voluntarily.
Completely vulnerable.
"...Are you okay?" she asked softly, almost in a whisper.
"No." Came the dry reply, muffled by the coat that covered part of his face. "I'm dead inside... and outside too..."
"...Did you deliver the flyers?"
"Box by box. All night." He replied without moving a muscle. "If anyone else asks me to 'help with a simple little favor', I swear I'll kill them on the spot..."
Koneko blinked slowly. She was still paralyzed. But little by little, her body relaxed. She didn't move her shoulder. Nor did she complain about its weight.
In fact... she even tilted her head just a little, almost imperceptibly, to let him settle in better.
Silence.
For a brief moment, the Occult Club seemed more like a shelter in the storm.
"You're... strange." She murmured, her eyes rolling forward.
"Everyone is, kitten. Some just pretend better."
"Don't call me that."
"Hmph."
*
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