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Chapter 287 ~ Mordred Once More

Silence.

A deep, profound silence settled over the room as they all fell into thoughtful contemplation, especially Xenovia and Irina.

Images flashed in their minds—memories of Sister Griselda, their friends at the church, and the children in its orphanages. Only now did the full weight of Yuuji’s words sink into their hearts.

As he observed the solemn expressions on their faces, Yuuji hoped they truly understood. At the very least, he wished they would at least join forces against the real enemy—the one who sought to plunge their world into chaos.

Just then, a familiar voice echoed in his mind.

[“Yuuji, are you free?”]

[“Lulu? What’s going on?”]

There was a pause. Yuuji smirked inwardly, already knowing the reason.

[“Don’t call me that.”]

[“Ah, right. That nickname’s reserved for your beloved Shirley. My bad.”]

[…]

Another pause. Yuuji could easily imagine Lelouch flustered, visibly trembling as he tried to maintain his composure despite the teasing.

[“I have news for you.”]

Predictably, Lelouch changed the subject.

[“Go on.”]

[“Vali is near Kuoh. He’s meeting with Azazel. This could be our chance to clear one of our missions.”]

Yuuji’s eyes narrowed in slight surprise.

Just as Lelouch said, this was the perfect opportunity to complete one of their objectives. Locating a high-class devil wasn’t difficult—Rias and Sona were both students here at Kuoh Academy. If he wanted, Rias could even take him to the Underworld to meet more of her high-ranking kin.

But finding one they were allowed to beat up? That was the hard part.

They couldn’t just start a fight with Rias, Sona, or their families. The stray devils roaming about weren’t powerful enough to qualify either.

Vali, however, was different. A high-class devil—possibly even ultimate-class—and a justified opponent. Beating him down wouldn’t just be strategic; it would be satisfying.

[“Oh, that’s perfect. So, are you going to fight him?”]

[“Hm? Of course not. Why would I? I’m telling you to go fight him.”]

[…]

Yuuji was stunned. Was Lelouch seriously just dumping the task on him now?

If Lelouch wanted to, he could easily defeat Vali—even in his Balance Breaker state—without breaking a sweat.

Though his specialty lay in divination, Lelouch was still a level 100 Fallen Seraph Archwizard and a True Prophet. If he got serious, Vali wouldn’t even get a chance to move. Even if he did, none of his attacks would land.

One fifth-tier spell—[Dragon Lightning]—would be enough to defeat him multiple times over.

[“…You’re just being lazy, aren’t you?”]

[“I’m currently tracking Kokabiel’s movements and monitoring Rizevim’s activity.”]

[“What about the others?”]

[“Tatsuya is analyzing the Hanging Gardens' mechanisms. Satoru-san is hunting strays with his Phantoms outside of Kuoh. C.C. isn’t suited for this kind of mission. That leaves you, Aika, Erika, or Albedo.”]

Yuuji fell into deep thought.

If Aika went… she might toy with Vali until she shattered his pride completely.

Erika? She might accidentally kill him with her Hell Flames.

And Albedo… she’d probably kill him on purpose—especially if Vali said something arrogant.

In the end, Yuuji was the most logical choice.

[“…Alright. I’ll go. Send me his location.”]

[“Good. And maybe take Albedo with you. It’d be best to move the fight to her [Dream of Reality]—less risk of bystanders getting involved or the town being destroyed.”]

[“Got it. I’ll message her.”]

Sighing inwardly, Yuuji sent a telepathic message to Aika and Erika, informing them of Vali’s presence and his plan, before turning back to Xenovia and the others.

“I hope you all take my words to heart. We’ll meet again soon.”

He nodded at Aika and Erika, both of whom returned the gesture.

“Eh? Yuuji-kun, where are you—”

Rias began to ask but trailed off mid-sentence, her eyes widening in shock. The words caught in her throat.

In an instant, Yuuji’s appearance shifted.

Gone was the familiar Kuoh Academy uniform. In its place was a sleek, jet-black, form-fitting armored suit with clawed gauntlets and a sinister, devilish mask concealing his face.

He turned his head slightly toward Rias, voice calm but resolute.

“I’ll be going out for a bit of late-afternoon exercise.”

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

A Quiet Twilight

The park was bathed in the soft amber glow of twilight. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, carrying the scent of blooming flowers and the distant hum of city life.

A man sat alone on a wooden bench, arms stretched out across the backrest, legs casually crossed. He gazed toward the central fountain, its water dancing in the fading light. The breeze tousled his black hair streaked with golden bangs as he closed his eyes, savoring the rare tranquility—a brief escape from the chaos and burdens that came with his title and responsibilities.

Then, footsteps—light and measured—broke the stillness.

They grew steadily louder, unmistakably approaching. Yet he didn’t open his eyes.

“So this is where you are. I stopped by your apartment, but you were nowhere to be found.”

The voice was familiar, expected. A sigh escaped his lips, long and tired.

“I’m trying to enjoy some peace for once,” he said, leaning his head further back against the bench. “You should give it a try, Vali. It does wonders.”

“You’ve been enjoying ‘peace’ a bit too much, if you ask me,” Vali replied dryly. “As the Governor of the Fallen Angels, you shouldn’t be dumping all your work on your subordinates, Azazel.”

Azazel waved a hand lazily. “It’s called delegation. You should learn it—part of being a good leader, you know.”

Vali shook his head with a sigh, then stepped closer, resting his hand on the bench’s backrest as he leaned in.

“You could at least pretend you’re looking for that guy before he does something reckless.”

“I am looking,” Azazel said, keeping his eyes closed. “He’s just very good at hiding.”

“...”

The wind stirred again, rustling the trees and grass. Silence lingered a moment longer before Azazel broke it.

“Have you found anything about that powerful magic signature from last week?”

Azazel finally opened his eyes, casting a glance toward the silver-haired young man beside him.

A week ago, he had felt it—a surge of demonic energy that flared across Kuoh like a beacon. It was powerful, possibly ultimate-class. Unstable and untamed, it screamed of a stray devil. Had it gone unchecked, it could’ve turned the town into a battlefield, even with the Gremory and Sitri heiresses present.

But when he investigated… nothing.

Just ashes. No scorched ruins. No signs of battle. No residual magic. Just… silence.

“No,” Vali admitted. “Nothing but ashes. Not even a hint of residual energy. I went to the place you mentioned, but there’s nothing. All that was left was dust.”

He had been summoned by Azazel to aid in the investigation. Yet when he arrived at the abandoned warehouse, it was already a graveyard of whatever event had transpired.

“Could it have been the Gremory girl?” Vali asked, his tone thoughtful. “She is the temporary overseer of this area, isn’t she?”

Given the Power of Destruction she inherited from her mother’s lineage, it seemed plausible.

But Azazel shook his head.

“Unlikely. If she had been the one, there would’ve been traces. Even with her control, she would’ve left behind magical residue.”

Vali frowned. “True. To completely erase all magical remnants… that would require a mastery beyond her level.”

The idea was unsettling. Someone out there had enough strength and control to annihilate a stray of that caliber—and leave no trace behind.

“Then who…?” Vali muttered. “What could it have been?”

Before either of them could speculate further, they both felt it—a shift in the air.

A magical fluctuation.

They turned their heads, scanning the area. Nothing seemed out of place. No movement. The rustling leaves and sound of water still resounding just as they were before.

Then it came again. This time, even clearer.

Their eyes turned skyward—toward the fading colors of twilight.

And there, silhouetted against the darkening sky, was a figure.

Clad in a sleek, black, futuristic combat suit, with clawed gauntlets and a demonic mask that concealed their face, the figure hovered silently in midair—standing atop the sky as if it were solid ground.

Azazel stood up sharply from the bench, Vali following suit. Both adopted defensive stances, eyes locked on the figure.

“Hey there, friend. Gotta admit—I wasn’t expecting visitors this afternoon. Who are you? What do you want?”

Azazel’s voice carried a casual friendliness, but the edge in his tone betrayed his wariness.

The man he addressed didn’t answer. He merely cast a brief glance at Azazel before shifting his gaze toward the silver-haired youth beside him.

“…”

Sensing the scrutiny, Vali narrowed his eyes. His aura flared—an overwhelming pressure that belonged to an Ultimate-Class Devil, the mightiest White Dragon Emperor in recorded history. That killing intent was directed squarely at the unknown figure above.

Azazel glanced sideways at Vali, impressed despite the circumstances. To project such force that even someone of his own caliber could feel the weight of it—that was no small feat.

But then his eyes drifted upward.

The figure hadn’t moved. Not even a twitch. No reaction. No acknowledgement. It was as if he hadn’t even felt Vali’s pressure.

'No… Don’t tell me—did he actually not feel any of that?’

If that were true… then his power was beyond anything Azazel could comprehend.

Slowly, the figure raised his right hand and pointed directly at Vali.

In the next instant, a crushing, invisible force slammed down upon Vali like a mountain. The White Dragon Emperor was driven to his knees, the ground beneath him shattering under the pressure into a jagged crater.

“Guuh…! Divide!!”

From his back, silver mechanical wings unfolded—shimmering with sky-blue light. The Divine Dividing, one of the Thirteen Longinus Sacred Gears, manifested, bearing the soul of Albion, the White Dragon of Supremacy.

“Divide!”

A mechanical voice echoed, initiating the gear’s power to halve the strength of any opposing force it touched.

And yet… nothing happened.

Vali’s eyes widened. “W-What…?! Ngh—!”

The crushing magic continued unabated. The Divine Dividing should’ve halved it—should’ve done something—but it didn’t work. It was as though the Sacred Gear's power didn’t even register.

Azazel felt it too. His expression shifted, the situation no longer intriguing, but dangerous. Lethally so.

With a tense motion, six obsidian-black wings flared out behind him—darker than the void of a moonless sky. He raised a hand, light spears beginning to form in the air behind him.

“Stop this! What are you trying to do?!”

Dozens of luminous spears readied to fire.

The figure simply turned at him. And in that instant, every spear of light dissolved into motes of energy, vanishing as if they had never existed.

“Wha—?”

Lowering his hand slowly, the figure released the pressure. Vali gasped for air, staggering slightly as the invisible weight lifted from his body.

“Fear not,” the man said calmly, voice smooth and unbothered. “I have no intent to harm you. I merely wished to witness the strength of the one hailed as the strongest White Dragon Emperor in history.”

His tone was that of a researcher, an observer—detached and clinical. Azazel recognized it instantly. It was a voice he himself had used countless times in the pursuit of knowledge.

Only now did he grasp what this figure was doing.

This was all just a test.

“You… damn you!!”

With fury blazing in his eyes, Vali launched himself skyward in a sonic burst of speed, propelled by rage. In the blink of an eye, he was upon the figure, unleashing a flurry of punches. Each one swift, precise, and backed by immense power.

But none connected.

The figure evaded with almost lazy movements, slipping through the barrage like mist.

Finally, Vali poured everything into one decisive punch—only for the figure to casually raise his hand and catch it midair.

“DIVIDE!”

Vali didn’t hesitate. This was his opening. If he could halve his opponent’s power and absorb it—he might just turn the tide.

But then something unexpected happened.

“Oh? Interesting… So this is Divine Dividing.”

The man seemed utterly unaffected.

Vali’s eyes widened in disbelief. It worked… he was sure of it. Power had surged into him, more than ever before. Too much. His body couldn’t handle it.

The overflow was immediate. He was forced to release most of the stolen energy through his sacred gear’s wings, discharging the excess into the air in streaks of blue light.

“W-What the hell?! You… Who are you?!”

Recoiling, Vali fell back, breathing hard—shocked, overwhelmed.

For the first time in his life, even while brimming with power, he felt it.

Dread.

The figure stared back at him in silence. Not mocking. Not angry.

Just observing.

The moment stretched longer than it truly lasted, heavy with unspoken gravity.

And then, at last, the figure spoke.

“I am Mordred. It is a pleasure to finally meet the White Dragon Emperor of this generation… and the esteemed Governor General of the Fallen Angels.”