[85] : Done Talking? Then Time to Go.

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The unexpected voice abruptly paused the battle, causing both combatants to momentarily freeze in place.

Irina spent a solid two seconds before finally realizing this wasn't some desperate hallucination, but a very real situation. Slowly raising her gaze, she saw the familiar, reassuring face of the youth who'd arrived.

"Bo...Bokue?"

"Yo!"

Bokue's calm voice rang out steadily. No one knew exactly when he appeared—almost as though he had always been standing right there, leisurely waiting for events to unfold.

He gently supported the girl who'd nearly lost the battle with one hand. With his other hand glowing softly with golden spiritual energy, he effortlessly caught the massive, lightning-shaped holy sword. Slowly, he tilted his head up and looked directly at the now visibly terrified silver-haired psycho priest.

"Oh hey, we meet again."

This scene strikingly resembled the iconic moment when Sephiroth, reborn through Kadaj, glanced calmly up at Cloud in "Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children".

Freed's heavily stitched face instantly contorted upon recognizing the newcomer's identity.

"Y—you…?!"

Even though he had already tasted death once, his memories hadn't been reset. He still vividly recalled the outcome of their previous encounter.

A single exchange, and his head was cleanly twisted off. The final image seared into his consciousness before dying was the surreal sight of his own headless body still standing.

Without the slightest hesitation, Freed tightened his grip and leaped backward with full force.

Sure, after his resurrection and reconstruction, his abilities had improved significantly, far surpassing his former self. However, facing Bokue again… he had absolutely zero confidence.

A wise man avoids danger—wait, huh?

Reality proved crueler than his optimistic expectations. Freed barely managed to leap half a meter back before he was abruptly jerked right back in place.

Not due to some "Banshō Ten'in" or "DIO Stand - The World" or anything fancy; rather, the lightning-shaped giant holy sword had never once budged an inch from Bokue's grip, as if welded permanently to his hand.

"BASTARD!"

Freed cursed under his breath, quickly releasing the lightning sword and stumbling backward, hastily pulling out two more blades concealed within his priest's coat.

Irina glimpsed them briefly and couldn't help crying out:

"Those are the other two holy swords stolen from the church!"

"Ah, so all three are gathered here, huh?"

Bokue calmly helped Irina regain her balance, casually passing the lightning sword into her hands, before taking slow, deliberate steps toward Freed, whose panicked expression now resembled that of a trapped bird.

"W-Wait a minute! Damn it… Where the hell did you even come from? Why the heck does this keep turning into some insane plot twist!?"

Freed frantically scanned around, desperately seeking a way out.

He might've been insane, but he wasn't stupid. That brief collision had clearly demonstrated the monstrous gap in their strength. If he rashly charged again, the result would inevitably be another humiliating defeat.

Most importantly, of course, was his precious life.

After all, he'd already died once—no way he'd want to experience it again so soon!

"Trying to run again? Take a look behind you first."

Bokue gestured mildly toward Freed's back.

Freed scoffed loudly, dismissive at first:

"Ha!? Think I'll fall for such a lame trick—ugh!!"

But before he finished speaking, intense magical fluctuations suddenly erupted above and behind him.

Rapidly spinning around, Freed gaped at the enormous teleportation magic circle, at least ten meters in diameter, forming right above the wooded path. Figures descended swiftly from the sky, gracefully landing.

Rias, Akeno, Asia, Koneko, even Saeko Busujima and Xenovia—everyone arrived simultaneously, forming a perfect two-sided encirclement.

Freed immediately let out a shrill scream upon seeing Saeko:

"Hey, isn't that the gorgeous sword-lady from last night!?"

"Oh no, oh no, oh no—surrounded by so many people?! Damn it, this isn't fair! Uh, c-could everyone pause a sec and hear me out?!"

"Say your excuses in hell!"

Xenovia had absolutely no intention of giving him a chance, swiftly raising her sword, Excalibur Destruction, and lunging forward to strike.

Clang—!

A sharp, resonant clang echoed throughout the mountainside. The supposedly unstoppable Excalibur Destruction failed to deliver a killing blow.

It was Bokue.

He appeared with his back facing Xenovia at the very instant she swung down her sword. Her full-powered strike landed squarely on his shoulder, yet it rebounded instantly, scattering sparks like it had struck a shield of absolute defense.

"You…!?"

Xenovia stared in disbelief and frustration, her beautiful features momentarily twisted by a complex mix of shock and irritation.

"Why would you defend him!? You're an Onmyōji, aren't you? Don't tell me staying too long with devils has corrupted—"

"You're mistaken, Xenovia!"

Irina's urgent voice interrupted her blue-haired companion's accusation.

Only then did Bokue slightly tilt his body, allowing Xenovia to clearly see the situation before her.

A golden, drill-like spear—resembling a Buddhist Vajra—spun furiously against Bokue's finger. Although small, the terrifying magical power radiating from it was undeniable.

"That's…?"

Xenovia's words caught in her throat.

Bokue shrugged lightly:

"Wake up already. If I hadn't blocked it for you just now, you'd be sharing tea with Saint Peter by now."

"Ooh~!"

Freed, who barely survived again, noticed the Vajra-like projectile and immediately shouted gleefully:

"That attack—Leader is here!!"

Leader?

Before Rias and the others could fully grasp the situation, an overwhelming, suffocating magical aura pressed down from above. Taken completely by surprise, they nearly collapsed onto their knees.

Yet, with sheer determination, they barely managed to hold on, forcing themselves to look upward.

Hovering calmly above the treetops stood a towering black figure. Clad in dark robes, his pointed elf-like ears, pale twisted features, sinister dark magical energy, and the murderous crimson glint in his eyes sent chills down everyone's spines.

Most notably, behind him spread ten pitch-black wings.

"That's… the Ten-winged Fallen Angel commander," Irina gasped anxiously. "Kokabiel!"

Though they'd anticipated danger, mentally preparing themselves to sacrifice everything—even their lives—facing this commander-level fallen angel still utterly overwhelmed them.

The power gap wasn't simply vast—it was absurdly immense.

Victory wasn't merely distant; even the thought of resisting seemed impossible.

Was this truly the might of a fallen angel who had survived battles against God and the original Devils?

"You… Kokabiel, what exactly are you plotting?" Rias forced herself to steady her voice and demanded firmly.

As the Gremory heir and younger sister to Satan Lucifer (Sirzechs), no matter how hopeless the situation seemed, she must maintain composure.

Kokabiel sneered coldly, mockery dancing cruelly in his crimson gaze:

"Goal? Quite the dull question, little sister of Sirzechs Lucifer. Isn't it obvious?"

His malicious grin widened further.

"Now that the younger sister of a Satan and the church's Holy sword wielders are conveniently gathered here, my aim is simple—I'll rekindle the flames of war until it consumes everything completely. Nowadays, Fallen Angels and Devils alike have grown weak and complacent. But if I slaughter you all right here, even Sirzechs, the great pacifist, won't remain passive. A shame Serafall's little sister isn't here too, or my plan would be even more secure."

Silence. Absolute, chilling silence.

Everyone had initially thought his goal was merely stealing holy swords for greater weapons. No one imagined his true ambition was to provoke Heaven and Hell alike, plunging the world once more into devastating war.

Truly, no rational mind could fathom this war maniac's twisted logic.

"Alright then. Done with your speech?"

An unnaturally calm voice pulled everyone's attention back below.

Kokabiel, slightly bewildered, glanced downward at the youth who had effortlessly blocked his strike. With a flick of his finger, Bokue casually shattered the golden spear, then stretched his shoulders leisurely.

"If you're done babbling, it's about time you got moving—to the afterlife."

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