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Chapter 290 ~ Rogue Knight

Slow, heavy footsteps echoed through the silent neighborhood on the outskirts of Kuoh.

A golden-haired young man staggered beneath the moonlight, his steps unsteady. In his wake, thick droplets of dark, half-dried blood dripped onto the pavement.

At his side, a crimson-black sword swung limply, his grip numb from exhaustion.

His face was deathly pale, making the dark circles under his eyes all the more stark. And yet, deep within those bloodshot eyes, a fire still burned—fierce determination and smoldering hatred. He looked less like a high school student in his junior year, and more like a spirit of vengeance brought to life.

Kiba eventually arrived at a quiet, long-abandoned warehouse district—the very place where he had first encountered Yuuji and Erika, back when they were still in disguise.

It was also where he had gotten a lead on Freed’s hideout from the rogue priest he had interrogated.

A sharp creak echoed as he pushed open a rusted metal door, the sound slicing through the suffocating silence inside.

He stepped in cautiously, alert, eyes scanning every shadow.

Thanks to his half-devil nature, his night vision allowed him to see clearly, even in the pitch blackness that surrounded him.

But there was nothing. Empty. Another dead lead.

“Tch…”

He clicked his tongue in irritation—more at Freed’s slippery escape than at the disposable pawn he’d wrung the information from.

Kiba knew that priest hadn’t dared lie—not after what he’d done to him. Which meant Freed must have fled long before even his underlings had caught wind of it.

Still, now that he was here, he began combing through the area, determined to find any overlooked clue that might point him toward his prey.

“Kiba-senpai.”

His eyes widened in shock at the sudden voice from behind.

Without thinking, without a moment’s hesitation, he spun around, adrenaline and bloodlust surging as he swung his demonic sword.

But instead of the familiar sensation of blade slicing flesh—something he had felt far too often that night—his weapon clashed against something solid.

And it wouldn’t budge.

His expression twisted with fury as he turned to face his target—only for that rage to flicker out in an instant.

“Yuuji… san…?”

Yuuji stood there, calm and composed, his fingers effortlessly gripping the edge of Kiba’s blade.

“You look like hell, Kiba-senpai,” he said softly, a faint smile on his lips.

Kiba slowly lowered his sword, deflating with a quiet breath. He turned away, ashamed to meet Yuuji’s gaze.

“It seems you’ve been… busy.”

Yuuji's eyes lingered on the dried blood staining Kiba’s clothes. But even more telling was the aura of barely-contained killing intent radiating from him.

He already knew what Kiba had been doing—hunting down rogue priests, chasing whispers of Freed and the cursed Holy Swords.

Kiba didn’t answer. He made to walk past him—but Yuuji spoke again.

“I’ve heard about your past. From Rias-senpai.”

Kiba froze mid-step.

The silence grew heavier. The air seemed to still.

“…Are you okay?”

The question cut deeper than any blade.

Yuuji hadn’t scolded him. Hadn’t lectured. He had simply… asked if he was okay.

Kiba’s throat tightened.

He knew this wasn’t justice. It wasn’t righteous. It was vengeance—his way of honoring the friends he had lost, the children who had died in that horrific lab, tortured and discarded like trash in the name of artificially creating Holy Sword wielders.

It had been his driving force ever since the day he escaped that nightmare.

He turned, slowly, and looked at Yuuji—who still offered him that same gentle smile.

“I’m not here to stop you.”

Kiba’s eyes widened. Questioning.

“These people... they do deserve to pay for what they’ve done. But I came here to tell you something—so you don’t end up walking a path that leads only to darkness and self-destruction. Because I don’t want to lose a friend to that kind of future.”

“…Yuuji-san…”

“Don’t lose sight of your true goal,” Yuuji said quietly.

Kiba remained silent.

“From what Rias-senpai told me—and what I’ve seen in you—I don’t think your goal is to destroy the Holy Swords themselves. It’s to avenge your friends, isn’t it?”

“...You’re right. I do want to avenge them!” Kiba snapped, fists clenched. “But I also have to destroy those accursed swords! Do you know how many children—how many innocent lives with bright futures—were tortured and killed just to make something that could wield them?!”

Yuuji met his gaze evenly.

“A weapon is just a tool, Kiba. It isn’t good or evil by nature. It can be used to kill—or to protect. That choice lies with the wielder.”

He stepped closer.

“The Holy Swords didn’t torture those children. They didn’t murder anyone. It was the scientists. The heretics. The monsters who twisted their faith to justify their cruelty.”

“...I know! That’s why I’ve been searching for them! That rogue priest I found—he had several Excalibur fragments. He must know where that bastard Valper is! He’s the one who masterminded it all!”

Yuuji nodded.

“I know.”

“Eh?”

Kiba blinked.

“My team—Lelouch and the others—we’ve uncovered the location of Freed, Valper, and the real orchestrator behind the stolen Excalibur fragments.”

“Where?! Tell me—I'll kill them—!”

“You’ll die.”

The words struck like a hammer. Not harshly—but with undeniable truth.

Yuuji’s voice held no scorn, no judgment. Kiba could see it in his eyes—Yuuji respected his strength. He’d even trained with him. But this wasn’t about pride.

It was a reality Kiba hadn’t wanted to face.

“If you go alone, right now... you’ll die,” Yuuji repeated gently. “I’ll share the information with the others tomorrow. We’ll form a plan. Don’t throw your life away. You have comrades now. Friends. A family. People who care about you.”

Kiba stood frozen as memories of his peerage filled his mind—smiling faces, warm laughter, the sense of belonging he hadn’t known he craved.

Then—Yuuji placed a hand on his shoulder.

A warm light flowed from his palm, bathing Kiba in a gentle, rejuvenating aura. The pain faded. The fatigue melted away. Even the weight in his chest began to lift.

The shadows that had clung to him for so long seemed just a little less dark.

“Rest tonight,” Yuuji said. “Think it over. I’ll see you in the clubroom tomorrow.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving Kiba alone in the quiet warehouse.

But this time… Kiba didn’t feel quite so alone.

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

Yuuji walked.

He could’ve easily used [Gate] to teleport back home in the blink of an eye. Normally, he would—he loved nothing more than spending his free moments with his loved ones.

But tonight, he chose to walk. Slowly. Aimlessly. Letting the cold night breeze carry away the weight in his heart, step by step beneath the pale moonlight.

“I hope he doesn’t do anything reckless…”

His voice was barely a whisper, lost in the stillness.

Yuuji understood the depths of Kiba’s trauma—his sorrow, his rage. He had seen it unfold in the anime, but witnessing it in person was different. The reality was heavier, more tragic.

He wasn’t surprised that Kiba had been hunting rogue priests and chasing down Freed. If their roles had been reversed, Yuuji was certain he would’ve done far worse.

But at the same time, he didn’t want Kiba to throw his life away. Not when he knew what awaited him. If Kiba faced Freed, Valper, and—worse—the Fallen Angel Cadre Kokabiel… it would be his end.

In truth, everything could’ve been resolved far more easily.

As he had told Kiba, they had already uncovered Kokabiel’s location. Valper and Freed were with him in the same hideout. Tracking them hadn’t been difficult—not when someone like the “True Prophet” was part of their group chat. No one could escape her divination.

Yuuji, Aika, Erika—or any of their allies—could eliminate Kokabiel in an instant.

It wouldn’t be a battle. It would be a massacre.

But that wasn’t the goal.

Killing Kokabiel would complete the mission. But it wouldn’t heal wounds. It wouldn’t give closure. It wouldn’t help Kiba come to terms with his past. It wouldn’t open Xenovia and Irina’s eyes to the twisted truth behind their so-called faith. It wouldn’t help Rias and Sona grow strong enough to protect those who mattered most.

And so, Yuuji and the others chose a different path.

A guiding hand in the shadows. A gentle push in the right direction. Let them face the threat and grow. When the time came, they would be there to support them. To catch them if they fell.

Before he realized it, Yuuji had wandered into a quiet residential district. The streets were still and hushed, bathed in the silver glow of moonlight.

That’s when he saw her.

Perched elegantly atop a wall fence, silhouetted by the moon, was a striking black cat with gleaming golden eyes that seemed to glow in the night.

Their eyes met. A lingering silence settled between them.

He immediately recognized the faint trace of demonic energy.

Kuroka…

‘Why is she here?’

First Vali. Now Kuroka. Were all of Vali’s team members gathering in Kuoh?

His mind began to race with possibilities. But on the wall, the black cat simply stared back at him, equally stunned.

‘He’s so handsome…’ Kuroka blinked, eyes wide. ‘I can’t sense anything from him… He seemed utterly normal, aside from his appearance. But… I can’t help but think otherwise…’

Her tail twitched.

A faint suspicion that he was Mordred, the mysterious man who beat up Vali, crossed her mind. 

But if he was… why did she feel so soothed by his presence?

Instead of oppressing feelings stemming from an overwhelming difference in power, she felt like she was before a hearth. A warm, gentle, soothing hearth.

‘Ah! I need to snap out of it! I’m a normal cat right now!’

She quickly snapped out of her daze, ears flicking as she remembered to stay in character. Time to play the part of the curious stray.

She walked slowly towards him, almost cautiously, yet still curious. She tilted her head to the side, her eyes locked onto his figure. Observing. Determining. Just like a cat. 

Yuuji couldn’t help but smirk. He saw through her ruse instantly, but chose to entertain it. His eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Wow… you’re so cute,” he murmured, stepping closer.

He reached out, gently stroking her silky black fur. Behind the mask of the feline, 

Kuroka’s body shivered ever so slightly from his touch.

‘A-Ah…! Y-You! How could you touch a lady so easily…! A-Aahhh… That feels good…’

“You’ve got such soft fur… and golden eyes that shine like jewels. Who’s a good little kitty, hm?”

Kuroka purred, her tail curling around his wrist as he petted her. 

But deep inside, her thoughts were spinning. At this point… she wasn’t sure if she was only playing along anymore!

His touch is… warm. Too warm… And why is he so good…! What’s with this guy?! Ah… No… It feels too good!’

And yet, she didn’t move away. Neither did he stop. 

At first, he just wanted to play along and tease her a bit. Perhaps, using this moment to tease her later on when they knew of each other’s identity. 

But before he knew it, he was lost in the sensation as well… 

She was so soft… So warm. So cute that he couldn’t stop it. 

The moment was strangely gentle, almost intimate, hidden under the guise of a man petting a stray cat.

And at the moment, both of them forgot. Neither of them were what they seemed.