Highschool DxD-Dream of Perfection

Authors Note: Hey guys, I want to ask if I should add more detail. Like if I don't add it, it looks plain like those MTL Chinese novels; if I add too much, it makes it so there is almost no action. Tell me your opinion. 

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Yuto stood behind the naga, bloodied and battered, exhaustion carved into every feature of his face. His hands dug deep into the creature's back, fingers gripping with unrelenting force. With a single, fluid motion, he twisted his arm, tearing through flesh and sinew. The naga let out a strangled hiss, its once-menacing form crumpling lifelessly to the ground.

Ray staggered to steady his breath, his chest heaving from the intensity of the battle. His body trembled as he tried to process what had just unfolded. His gaze shifted to Yuto, a mixture of relief and gratitude flickering in his eyes—but also shock, raw and undeniable.

"Ray." Yuto's voice was calm but laced with an undercurrent of cold fury. "Can you fight?"

Ray gritted his teeth and pushed himself to his feet, his movements deliberate and slow. "Yes," he answered, though the strain was evident. His frown deepened as his gaze lingered on Yuto. "What happened to you?"

Yuto turned his attention toward the battlefield, his expression hardening. "Devil."

"Devil?" Ray echoed, his voice tinged with disbelief. He staggered closer to Yuto, his breath ragged and his steps unsteady.

"Devil attacked me," Yuto said, wiping away a stream of blood trailing from the corner of his mouth, the consequence of pushing his body when it hadn't healed completely. His eyes scanned the chaos before them, taking in the shifting tides of battle. 'That snake hid some of his soldiers before the battle. Huh.'

With a cold gaze, Ray just looked at a hundred or so soldiers who joined in. 'Only a few high class, it won't take me long.' After which he shifted his gaze back to Yuto. 'What did you say about devils? Devils attacked you? Did some devils try to capture you, to try to add you to their peerage?'

'No, Ray, he did not; he had the intention to capture me if possible, but he was also willing to kill me if proven troublesome.' Yuto lightly remarked, each word slow and delibiate as he waited for his words to fully sink in. 'I am afraid that he or whoever he was with was not only there for me.'

Ray's brow furrowed as he tried to comprehend the situation. "You are saying..." he repeated, as if trying to deny the truth.

But Yuto's next words shattered any doubt. 'Exactly as you think, they are here to intervene in the war.'

The weight of that confirmation made Ray pause, his shoulders sagging under an invisible burden. His face seemed to age in an instant, weariness etched into every line. He sighed deeply, resignation settling over him.

Yuto raised a hand, casting spells with measured precision—strong but restrained, careful not to worsen his injuries. A burst of magic struck down several middle-class golems that had surrounded a high-ranking elf from the Phamos family. She appeared youthful, with blonde hair and a modest body; she looked to be in her mid-twenties, though her age likely spanned centuries.

Meanwhile, Ray uncorked a mana-restoration potion, the faint blue liquid glinting in the dim light. He drank it slowly, savoring its taste, then tossed the empty bottle behind him. "What's your plan?" he asked, his voice steadying as the crack that was in his voice just a second ago faded, now replaced with calmness. Showcasing his amazing adaptability, which is rare, even in a world full of supernatural entities.

"I'm heading to the main camp," Yuto replied without looking back. "What about you?"

Ray offered a bitter smile. "We'll part ways here. After this, I'm going to Harn Will Castle."

"Your granddaughter?" Yuto asked, his tone softening just slightly.

"Yes," Ray confirmed, his voice carrying a quiet determination.

The two stood in silence for a moment. Yuto continued casting spells, his aim precise and calculated, casting right where it was needed. whenever helping a soldier or killing the enemy. Creating a shield or slowing down enemies when needed, while slowing down or killing enemies when required.

While Yuto is casting spells, Ray busies himself by bandaging his wounds and performing minor healing spells. 

After a moment, Yuto lowered his hands, his magic ceasing. "I'm leaving now," he said simply.

He turned and cast a flight spell, his body becoming lighter as wind magic propelled him forward. The ground fell away beneath him as he ascended.

From below, Ray's voice carried after him. "Leaving again without a proper goodbye?"

Yuto didn't respond, nor did he look back. Because He didn't have the time, nor the inclination, for drawn-out farewells. Both of them had their missions and goals. Ray needed to confirm the fate of his granddaughter—whether her death was a cruel truth or a manipulative lie spun by the naga to make him lose his calm.

As Yuto disappeared into the sky, Ray turned back toward the battlefield, his eyes blazing with determination and fury as he threw himself towards the fray with renewed vigor. 

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Yuto ran on the ground, moving with a speed that defied the laws of physics itself, with wind blowing into his hair and face, making him unable to hear anything but the swishhh sound of the wind. He was running on the plains with almost no tree or mountain in sight—a rare phenomenon. While he was running, he looked left and right, checking for any ambushes or sentries that he failed to locate using his magical perception. 

While he is going, he occasionally looks towards the distant horizon, although the place he looks at is empty, but it is just a simple disguise to prevent normal humans or weak supernaturals from locating them. There are also a few simple illusions that make them ignore or lose interest. 

When Yuto is about a hundred or so meters away from the barrier, a few mages and warriors got out from the barrier, with middle-aged warriors at the lead, who are also the only high-class being, with the rest being middle or low-class. 'HALT' middle-aged man shouts, his voice deep and resounding, similar to his build.

Yuto looked at the middle-aged man for a second before stopping, blowing up a bit of dirt because of the sudden stop. Meanwhile, the middle-aged man and the rest of the guards who looked to be guards got close to Yuto. As the guards approached, some of the guards had a look that said, I saw him somewhere but can't remember where. It lasted until they were about ten meters away that the middle-aged guard captain and some of the guards identified him. 'Ah, Sir Yuto, I did not identify you for a sec.'

The middle-aged man said as he walked closer, his guard looser but not completely down. 'Although it is inconvenient, but you got to identify yourselves,' the guard said as he stopped just a few meters away from Yuto, while the rest of the guard was half circling Yuto, ready to respond at moments notice.

Yuto did not show any signs of anger or displeasure, as he knew that it was just a standard procedure, where even heads of family or even Yato, Ultimate Class being from Japan, specifically Kyoto, have to identify themselves when going in and out alone. So Yuto just took out an ID card, which was scanned by the middle aged, and answered a few questions. Ranging from a few passwords that changed and the current pass also a mana signature identifying device, which is small to the point it could be held in one's hand.

'That should be it.' The middle-aged man said as he motioned the rest of the guard. Signaling them that it is now okay. 

While they were going towards the barrier to enter the base, Yuto asked the middle-aged man. 'So, did devils attack any bases?' sounding as if he is only making every day talk.

Middle-aged men stopped for a second, thinking of something, after which they responded. 'So you already got the news, huh? Yes, devils attacked all of our bases in the western front and some bases up on the north.' 

If you are wondering why the middle-aged man who is a high-class being is being this respectable to Yuto, it is because of an incident Yuto had with some high-class and mid-class elf's from the Phamos family. Because they lived for hundreds of years, had decent strength, and were usually respected whenever they went, they treated Yuto in a way that Yuto did not like. Some placed Yuto, an ultimate class being, on their own level and talking and conversing as if they were equals, with some even looking down on him, considering him inferior. Which Yuto responded with beating up anyone who considered Yuto their equal, torturing those who looked down on him. Although he did not kill any of them nor leave permanent disabilities because it would do no good to him. Which allowed Yuto to establish his footing. 

Although it caused some to look at Yuto with anger or hatred. But Yuto would let it pass, as long as they do not do anything out of the line. Like showing it in action, which they most likely won't, because this world is not a place where people treat their life lightly or under the illusion that their organization or family will always back them up or protect them.

Like seriously, if you lived for centuries and still had middle- or high-class strength, the only thing he could say to that is p.a.t.h.e.t.i.c. Even if you had below-average talent, if you relentlessly trained for at least a century or two, a low Ultimate class is possible with those with enough luck, if not at least peak high class. But they, despite living for centuries upon centuries, only had low-high-class or mid-class strength. However, whenever they could ever go up from low ultimate class is an entirely different issue.

While he is monoguling, the middle-aged man, who now identified himself as Richard Willaims, led Yuto towards a massive tent. Almost like a building. After which he turned to Yuto. 'Please wait for a second,' after which he turned around and entered the tent.

About thirty seconds later, he came out with a smile and motioned for him. 'Please'

When he entered, what greeted him was a simple room with a big table on the table, filled with steaks and fruit that you would usually see at big celebrations. While on the end of the table sat an old human, her white hair framing a face etched with the wisdom and experience of countless battles, with an ordinary wooden staff on her right hand. With a soft and melodic gaze, she looked at Yuto. 'You came right on time; I was just about to contact Yato,' she said, her words slow but clear, motioning to one of the chairs. 

Yuto sat with a Huah as the weariness that accumulated slowly disappeared, letting the weariness that accumulated to fall off. After which he turned to the old woman, who is the head of the Thunder Horn guild, Clara Beinzwell, an ordinary name for a legend among humans, who was born from a normal human household, but when she was five, an old mage identified her unnaturally large mana reserve and accepted her as an apprentice, and she grew from an ordinary human girl with a large mana reserve to a powerhouse among humans. Rare Peak ultimate class being in her peak of power.

'What's your plan on the devil? If they interfere in the war, I don't think we can win.' Yuto inquired right after he grabbed an apple on the table, taking a bite out of it.

In response, she just smiled towards Yuto with her ever-present soft eyes and replied. 'Now, now, wait just a few minutes; at best it will take twenty minutes. When we are all ready, we will begin.' she turned to look at Yuto and his eyes, which looked quite exhausted with faint black lines adorning his face. ' You look quite tired, if you want , you can sleep on that bed .'she said as she motioned towards a modest bed, only capable of one person.

Yuto just shook his head with a soft expression. 'No need'

()

About twenty minutes later, the meeting finally began, although not in the way Yuto had anticipated. Instead of gathering face-to-face, most of the participants appeared as holograms, leaving only a few, including Clara and Yuto, present in their physical forms.

With a soft, thoughtful hum, Clara started the meeting. "As you're all likely aware, devils have interfered in the war. This interference has resulted in significant setbacks—we've lost a considerable amount of claimed territory, setting us back by about two months. Among the losses is Base Hej.... Clara began recounting the recent events, ensuring everyone, particularly Yuto, was fully up to date. She covered the general situation, detailed the losses, and shared the intelligence they had gathered. After about ten minutes, Clara paused, giving everyone a moment to process the weight of the information.

"Does anyone have anything to add?" she asked, her sharp gaze scanning the group, which included Yato and Klein Defrost, the leader of the Phamos family, among other notable figures.

"I do," Yato said, his tone calm and deliberate. His words immediately drew the attention of everyone present—Clara, Yuto, and the rest of the ultimate class or those holding high-ranking positions.

"After our matriarch heard what happened, she investigated and spoke with one of the Maou—specifically Maou leviathan. Through this conversation, it was revealed that the devils responsible are not acting as a unified force but as a faction." Yato spoke slowly, each word weighted with significance. His audience hung on his every syllable, their focus unwavering.

"This faction is the backing behind Shadow Veil. They provide them with knowledge and power in exchange for their services. This includes the abduction of highly talented or powerful individuals, who are then delivered to them," Yato continued, his revelation being a complete shock to Yuto. He was completely unaware of this piece of information. 

"To put it plainly, they act as mercenaries—or more accurately, subordinates—of these devils."

A heavy silence followed, each participant digesting the implications of Yato's words. After several moments, the quiet was broken by Angelina, the clan head of a new-generation elf family and an ultimate-class combatant. "What's the likelihood of this information being accurate, in percentage?" she asked, her voice calm but probing.

"Approximately 85%, with a margin of error bringing it down to 70%," Yato replied without hesitation.

The gravity of his statement lingered in the air, but the atmosphere slowly shifted. The frowns and tension that had etched themselves into the participants' faces began to ease. For the next several minutes, the discussion continued with others contributing their own intelligence. Yet, Yuto couldn't help but notice how composed everyone remained. He had expected an uproar—shouts, accusations, and perhaps even chaos—but instead, there was only a calm, measured deliberation. Too calm, Yuto thought, finding himself increasingly at odds with the group's collective demeanor. At the conversation that continued, he only injected a few times, inputting his own thoughts as he examined everyone's mood, growing confused but hiding it behind a neutral expression.

The meeting's tone subtly shifted again when Clara, now slightly more relaxed, spoke. "All right, the discussion is almost over. Does anyone object to reporting this to Valhalla?"

Yuto's thoughts churned. Reporting to Valhalla? What does she mean by that? He wondered if someone within the group had already established a connection with Asgard. Had they negotiated aid in advance? The logic didn't add up. Even if help was secured, when they learned who they are up against, it would at least provoke an outright refusal from Valhalla. Worse, the gods could retaliate for what they might perceive as manipulation.

()

Those from Norse mythology, especially Odin, are neither scared nor intimidated by a faction of devils. They are much much stronger and have more resources than them, putting them at a significant advantage if they ever fought. However, for them to fight for a small organization like theirs at the cost of offending the devils is unrealistic. It's like being asked to beat up a child for a few pieces of candy. Imagine you're driving through a school zone when a group of children approaches and begs you to do just that. You agree, thinking it's a simple task, but when you arrive at the location, you're greeted by the neighbor's child. The neighbor isn't a pleasant person, but would you really beat up a kid of your neighbor for a handful of candy? even though you're much richer and stronger than your neighbor, but he could still make you pay.

This isn't a world of lighthearted rainbows and friendship, Yuto thought grimly. No, this is the real world, where those who don't know their place and try their luck mostly end up dead or worse. Or, as he bitterly phrased it to himself, It's not a world of pure boobs and friendship.

()

After the discussion ended, with no objections raised, several people who had been in the tent earlier left with polite bows. Only Yuto and Clara remained. Yuto ate the food on the table with great relish, while Clara dozed off, her head resting against the side of the chair, her staff still clutched in her hands.

After eating for about twenty minutes and feeling nearly full, Yuto turned to Clara and asked, "You mentioned reporting to Asgard; what exactly does that mean?"

Clara, eyes still closed, replied with a hint of amusement in her voice, as if she had just learned her successful grandchild was trying his hand at cooking for the first time. "So you still don't know, huh?" She paused, then continued, "We are subordinates of Asgard. We pay tribute to them every year and help them whenever needed, much like how the Lord allows farmers to live on his land." Her voice softened on the last part. "Although my reference is probably a bit old-fashioned, haha." She chuckled, referring to something so long-established.

Yuto's eyes brightened as he finally understood why everyone had reacted the way they did. He also added to his mental list of goals: to learn any vital details that might come his way.

"Are you going to Asgard to report?" Yuto asked, continuing to eat.

"Yes, I will," Clara replied with a kind smile on her face. "Although I probably won't meet All-Father Odin. At best, I'll meet one of the gods."

(Two days later , Asgard , Valkyrie training area)

The sun burned intensely from the sky, with not a cloud in sight. Around a hundred Valkyries could be seen training, their foreheads dotted with beads of sweat, some of them breathing heavily from the intense exertion. All of them wore brown combat shirts and pants that fit snugly, accentuating their well-toned physiques.

Unknown to them, just ten meters away, an old man with a single eye observed them with a lecherous grin, his eyes squinting and his mouth curving into a crooked smile.

Suddenly, one of the Valkyries' shirts was sliced open by a spear from her opponent, tearing it down the middle, right between her breasts, revealing her full figure.

"NO!" she cried out, quickly clutching her chest and retreating. The entire incident took place in a mere two seconds, but the old man, with his lone eye, managed to observe and commit every detail to memory. As he watched, a tall, muscular man with long blonde hair and a hammer strapped to his side approached him.

"Old man," the tall figure called.

The old man, who was none other than Odin, turned with a swift movement and cast a voice-separation spell, sealing the area from any unwanted sound. He then resumed watching the Valkyries.

Thor, acting as if his father's actions were completely normal, showed no change in expression and made no comment on the spell. Odin, however, asked Thor, "What is it, Thor? You wouldn't normally come here."

Thor replied in his usual loud voice, "I wanted to ask about yesterday, about the devils."

Odin did not look away but responded, "Ah, that. After giving it some thought, I decided to let them know their place, Thor, why don't you go and teach them a lesson?"

"Alright," Thor replied, turning and walking away. Meanwhile, Odin, still watching, noticed a young girl with white hair, likely around eleven or twelve, staring at the Valkyries with wide-eyed admiration. I didn't notice her before, odd, i wonder why ?, Odin thought as his gaze shifted back to the Valkyries, particularly the one with the most noticeable figure. Although he had only seen that white-haired little girl for a moment, her appearance was firmly etched in his mind.