DxD : A New Hero : Chapter 77

Do you know what Rias answered when I asked her what she planned to say in this year's Gathering?"

I shook my head, before realizing that he couldn't see me, "No idea."

...

The next thing I know I found my face bouncing off Sirzechs back as he abruptly stops walking.

"She told me she wanted to become the next Gremory Head." He turns around to face me. "She basically admitted that her greatest ambition is life to become something that was already promised to her from the moment she was born.

"And the others her age are no different. Every year we hold Young Devil's Gathering I hear the same thing over and over again. Become the Clan Head, uphold the clans' honor or even something equally asinine such as winning all of their Rating Games." He snorted, "Not sure which is worse, wishing to achieve something that is already given to them or treating the Rating Games, which is supposed to be a simulation for war, as a children's game.

"When the Rating Games was first introduced, people treated it as if their very lives depended on the outcome. Today? They newest generation treats it like a national hobby. They cannot seem to understand what they learn during the Rating Games can save their lives one day.

"Perhaps it is because they have never seen the realities of war that they think this way. Perhaps we protected them too well, sheltered them from too many of life's hardships that they can no longer believe that anything bad can happen to them. Even when we try explaining it to them they fail to truly grasp what we're saying. Intellectually they know that the world is a dangerous place, but emotionally they cannot bring themselves to truly believe it.

"And you can see result of our folly simply by looking at the waning strength of the newly born children. There are less Ultimate-class or candidates with the potential to become Ultimate-Class among the Pure-Blood Devils born over these last 200 years."

"Sirzechs aren't you overstating things a bit?" I interrupted him. "You say Devils are getting weaker then what about Sairaorg? You yourself have said that you never even heard of a Devil become so powerful at such a young age, not since you and Ajuka were kids yourselves."

"Exactly, look at Sairaorg." He nodded triumphantly, as if I had proved his point. "Deprived the happiness the rest of his peers were showered with. Rejected by his father, his birth right stripped away from him and even a mother's loved was denied to him with lady Misla's passing. And what happens? He becomes the strongest Devil in his generation, perhaps the strongest since the birth of the Maous.

"And what is it that separates Sairaorg from the rest of his Peers? Ambition. What was freely given to others he had to fight for? Power that was granted to other children at their birth he had to claw tooth and nail for even the smallest of scraps. The difference between them Shirou, is that he was hungry for it while the others weren't.

"And that is why I want to thank you."

"Come again?" I blinked back in confusion, not even remotely understanding how the topic we were talking led to him thanking me.

"Rias used to be the same as the others, content with her lot in life. But after Kokabiel's attack something's changed."

I snorted. "That had nothing to do with me Sirzechs. Anyone who comes that close to dying would naturally change."

"No, that's not what I meant." He shook his head. "A few days after the attack, Rias came to me and asked me a rather peculiar question."

"And what did she ask?" I prompted him when he paused.

"What it means to be a King."

For a heartbeat I was no longer standing there in that school, the walls of the hallway fading away along noise of the crowds, replaced by fields of never ending green, stretching far father than the eye could see.

She was there, standing right before me. Clad in blue and silver armour, she gazed resolutely ahead, teal eyes locked onto the distant horizon. Hair swaying gently in the breeze, a sword held down before her.

Standing tall and proud, she was the perfect image of a King.

Then the moment was gone, the scenery fading away and I was back into the crowed hallway, the chatter and footsteps of people filling my ears.

"…I see." So that's what she saw in the light of that sword. To think, that out of all things she could have seen, she saw her.

"She's growing Shirou. She finally understands that she is lacking something. That there's something that she needs to gain before she can truly call herself a king. And I have you to thank for that." He held his hand out for me to shake.

I hesitated for a moment, reluctant to even do that much, before I grudgingly reached out and grasped his hand with my own.

He was sincere in his thanks, this I knew for certain. His words held no lies, no deception, just honest gratitude. In fact, I don't think I had ever seen Sirzechs lie, to me or to others. Even the brotherly affection that he treats me with was no act, but genuine.

And maybe, had circumstance been different, I could have learned to like him. With his friendly demeanor and natural charisma it would have been hard not to. Maybe if I hadn't known what he really was, if I hadn't seen him in his true form I would have not hated him so.

But I did.

I saw who he really was, what he really was. I know what lays hidden under that thin veneer of humanity that he wears like a second skin.

And that is why, not matter how kind his smiles are or how friendly his laughs, I never allowed myself to forget that I was shaking hands with a monster.

...

"Eh? Aniki! Is that you?" Saji called out in surprise from somewhere behind me. I ignored him, hoping he'd leave me alone in my shame and misery. Unfortunately he didn't.

I heard him tentatively approaching me, his footstep echoing off the tiled floor, before halting only a couple of meters away. When he spoke again he sounded more than a little confused, "Umm, Aniki…what exactly are you doing?"

"Face-walling." I answered him, the words coming out more muffled than I would have liked. Though that was only to be expected, seeing as I had my face pressed flat against a wall.

"Oh…Ok." He sounded even more baffled by my response than my actions. "Umm…Aniki, if you don't mind me asking, why exactly are you face-walling?"

"Because sometimes a face-palm just isn't enough." Truer words have never been spoken.

"…Sorry Aniki, but I have no idea what you're talking about."

Lifting my face off the wall from where I had slammed it a minute earlier, I turned around, resisting the urge to kick a snickering Sirzechs as I did so, and pointed straight down the corridor to where a large group of people had gathered. Flashes of light and clicking of shutters made it clear that they were all snapping pictures.

Quickly, before I could catch sight of what they were photographing, I slammed my face back onto the wall. While it did nothing to block out the sounds of what was happening, at the very least it prevented me from witness the event. And by the dead God did I not want to see it happening. My battered Pride can't take the shame of it all.

After another round of a shutters going off, one of the nearby photographers whooped for joy before yelling out, "Yes! I think I just got a panty shot!"

Without command my body reacted. Reinforcing my limbs to the limit, I spun around, projecting a throwing knife into my hand as I did so. Then, with a flicker of movement too fast for the human eye to follow, I threw the knife straight at the pervert's camera.

Needless to say it was a perfect strike, the tip of the blade piercing all the way through the digital and rather expensive looking camera, knocking it out of its owners hand and onto the floor in a shower of sparks and twisted wires.

By the time the camera hit the floor the knife was already gone, dispelled now that its job was complete, leaving no evidence behind on what just occurred.

All this happened in what was less than a tenth of a second.

"Hey! What the hell!" The owner of the now ruined camera dropped to his knees, staring with uncomprehending eyes at what remained of his camera. Gingerly he picked it up, cradling it like a baby, only for it fall apart in his hands, "What happened to it?"

Sweet satisfaction filled me as I watched the pervert morn the destruction of his beloved camera. However any satisfaction I felt quickly disappeared, replaced with regret. Not that I regret destroying the camera, because I certainly didn't, just the consequences of doing so.

By tossing the dagger, I had been forced to look at the direction of where the cameraman stood within the crowd and by doing so I had been giving an unobstructed view of what had captivated the crowd's attention.

And how I wish I didn't.

Twirling the pink wand like a baton, she spun in place, sending her equally pink and white clothing trailing after her. She laughed with utter glee as the flashes of camera erupted like stars about her.

Black and pink stripped socks reached up to her thigh where it was met by an indecently short skirt. Her shirt to was too small, ending several inches before her waist, revealing her toned stomach freely to the world.

Her violet eyes glimmered with joy as she continued to pose for her audience. Her long raven locks were tied into twin ponytails, held in place by pink ribbons, and on top of her head rested a pink and yellow hat.

I felt my legs give way beneath me, sending falling down onto my knees in despair, while I continued to watch on. I wanted to look away, I really did, but I could not tear my eyes from the sight.

It was like gawking at a scene of an accident or a dead body. Even though you don't want to, there is something so horrible about it that leaves you with no choice but to watch.

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Hey guys I really need you to throw some power Stones ;)

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