Chapter 35 - A Dance of Blades

The air crackled with tension as Kiba and I stood across from each other, the training grounds now the stage for our duel. The gathered crowd—Rias, Akeno, Koneko, Issei, and even Sona's Peerage—watched closely, their gazes locked onto us with varying degrees of curiosity and intrigue.

Kiba gripped his new sword, the one I had crafted for him, its devil-infused steel pulsing with latent energy. His stance was perfect, balanced between offense and defense, like a true master swordsman. His aura flared subtly, his speed already something I knew would be difficult for most to track.

But I wasn't most people.

He moved first.

One moment he was standing still, the next he vanished, his Sacred Gear—Sword Birth— activating as afterimages flickered across the battlefield. A dozen versions of him appeared, closing the distance between us with blinding speed.

He was fast.

But not fast enough.

With a flick of my wrist, I spun my spear in a controlled arc, meeting his real body head-on. The impact sent sparks flying, the shockwave rustling the grass beneath our feet.

Kiba was relentless, launching into a barrage of lightning-fast slashes, each one precise and lethal. He was a duelist through and through, his footwork flawless, his blade an extension of his will.

I met him blow for blow, using the full length of my spear to counter his close-range strikes. Every thrust, every spin, every well-placed deflection kept him just outside his ideal attack range. My movements were effortless, flowing like water—not a single wasted motion.

His sword arced toward my ribs—I twisted my spear, parrying it with ease. He pivoted, coming from the opposite side—I shifted my weight, sidestepping and countering with a sweeping strike aimed at his legs.

Kiba barely avoided it, flipping in midair before landing in a crouch, his golden eyes narrowing.

"You're not bad," he admitted, lips curling into a grin. "But let's see how you handle this."

Raising his sword high, a dark pulse of devil energy radiated from the blade. In an instant, several black, floating swords materialized around him, hovering in the air like spectral blades ready to strike.

Ah, there it was.

His Sword Birth ability, summoning multiple weapons at once.

With a flick of his wrist, the summoned swords shot toward me, each one homing in like a guided missile.

I didn't move.

Not until the last second.

Then, I stepped forward—meeting the attack head-on.

My spear whirled in a blur, creating a spinning vortex of air pressure, deflecting each incoming blade with precise, calculated movements.

One blade streaked toward my face—I leaned back, letting it pass inches from my nose before striking it with the blunt end of my spear, sending it spiraling into the ground.

The impact left a shallow crater.

Kiba's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he closed the gap, reappearing in front of me in an instant. He swung his sword in a powerful downward arc, aiming for my shoulder.

I shifted, lifting my spear at the last moment, catching the edge of his blade and redirecting the force away from my body.

The ground beneath us cracked from the sheer force.

Kiba landed gracefully, his breathing even, but I could tell—he was pushing himself. His devil aura surged, enhancing his physical abilities, making him faster, sharper.

He was really trying now.

I tilted my head, my smirk widening.

But me?

I still hadn't even used my magic.

"Come on, Kiba…" I said smoothly, my voice laced with amusement. "You can do better than that."

The fight was only getting started.

———————

{Rias POV}

Rias stood with her arms crossed, watching the duel unfold before her. The training grounds were filled with the sharp clang of weapons clashing, the faint shimmer of residual energy crackling in the air as Malrik and Kiba moved like blurs, exchanging rapid blows with practiced ease.

She had known Malrik was strong.

She had seen it firsthand.

He had taken down Mittelt, a Fallen Angel, without breaking a sweat, reducing her to nothing more than a grumbling maid. That alone had been impressive. But this?

This was different.

Kiba was fast—incredibly fast. Even among Devils, his speed was exceptional, his swordsmanship refined through years of training and enhanced further by his demonic nature. And yet…

Malrik was matching him.

Every strike Kiba threw was met with an equally precise counter. Every burst of speed, every attempt to gain the upper hand—Malrik effortlessly adapted, moving with a fluidity that shouldn't be possible for a human.

And the most concerning part?

He wasn't even using magic.

Rias narrowed her eyes, observing every detail of Malrik's movements.

His footwork was deliberate—controlled. His grip on the spear was natural, wielding it like an extension of himself rather than a mere weapon. There was no hesitation, no wasted movement. Even when Kiba used his Sacred Gear, summoning a barrage of blades, Malrik had dismantled them with nothing but raw skill.

She had been right to suspect he was hiding something.

She had assumed his strength stemmed from his Sacred Gear—after all, he had claimed it allowed him to create anything.

But this wasn't just creation.

This was experience. This was mastery.

And that intrigued her.

Her crimson eyes flickered with curiosity as she shifted her weight slightly.

"Just how much is he hiding?"

Akeno, standing beside her, let out a soft hum of amusement.

"Ara~" she murmured, watching as Malrik casually sidestepped another of Kiba's attacks, countering with a sweeping motion that forced Kiba to backpedal. "I don't think we've ever seen him take anything seriously yet, have we, Buchou?"

Rias exhaled slowly.

"No," she admitted, eyes locked onto Malrik's form. "And that's what worries me."

Because if this was him holding back…

She needed to know what he looked like when he didn't.

———————

{Issei POV}

I stood at the edge of the training field, my eyes locked onto the battle unfolding before me.

And holy crap—this was insane.

I thought I had a grasp on what being a Devil meant. I mean, I'd been reincarnated just the other night, right? I was part of Rias' Peerage now, which had to mean something.

But watching Kiba and Malrik?

This was an entirely different level.

The sheer speed at which they moved was ridiculous. One second they were in front of me, the next—gone. Their weapons blurred through the air, steel clashing so fast and hard that sparks danced around them. Every impact sent small shockwaves rippling across the training field, the sound of their battle echoing like rapid-fire explosions.

Kiba was fast—stupidly fast. He was Rias' Knight, after all, and speed was his thing. He practically glided across the battlefield, his footwork so fluid it was like he wasn't even touching the ground. His sword strikes were sharp, relentless, precise. The guy looked like a damn anime swordsman brought to life.

And Malrik?

He was keeping up.

No—he was doing more than that.

Every attack Kiba threw, Malrik countered effortlessly. He spun his spear with practiced ease, redirecting blows, shifting his stance, moving as if he had all the time in the world. Kiba was fast, but Malrik… Malrik was controlled. He wasn't reacting.

He was anticipating.

My jaw clenched as I tried to follow the fight, but I could barely keep up.

Was this what a real supernatural fight looked like?

Was this what I was supposed to be aiming for?

I had barely even done anything since becoming a Devil. I was still figuring out my powers, still struggling to adjust to this new life. And here they were—fighting like they had always belonged in this world.

A bitter feeling twisted in my chest.

I was weak.

Pathetically weak compared to them.

But at the same time…

I couldn't stop watching Malrik.

He was cocky, yeah. Always smirking, always throwing in a flirt or some smart-ass remark. But here, in this moment?

He was in his element.

A real fighter. A real warrior.

And for the first time since I met him…

I wanted to be like him.

"Holy crap. This is the power of a real fighter?"