Highschool DxD-Dream of Perfection

Chapter 30

Author note: I am very busy this week, to the point that i did not even reread this chapter but here enjoy.

A group of guards sat around a small table in a watchtower playing poker. Right outside through the window, gallons upon gallons of water were cascading like a waterfall. The wind howled so violently that they had to activate the barrier to prevent the tower from collapsing. In fact, about thirty minutes ago, two of the guards who were out smoking were swept off their feet by the sudden storm, falling from the tower. Fortunately, their resilient bodies and the trees below cushioned their fall. They sustained only a few bruises, with no serious injuries.

"Royal flush, FUCKARS!" one of the guards yelled while slamming the card on his hand onto the table with a wide grin. He looks to be in his fifties, his face lined with wrinkles, but his towering, one-meter-ninety frame suggested otherwise.

"Bernard, you better not be cheating, because I swear, if I find out that you are..." one of the guards threatened, slamming the table so hard that it cracked as he stood up like an angry bear.

But Bernard, unfazed by the angry outburst, casually picked his ear and blew it after finishing, blowing the little earwax that was on his finger to the ground. "Yeah, yeah, you're going to cave in my face until it's nothing but a burst watermelon. Blah blah blah. Nothing you say will change what has happened, so hand over MY MONEY."

The other guards glared at Bernard, their expressions a mix of anger and resignation. Some sighed as if they had expected something like this to happen. Nevertheless, whether they were angry or not, they all began to hand over their betted money—some slapping it onto the table, others shoving it toward Bernard. One guard even clutched his money tightly and did not let go, even when Bernard pulled it with considerable force, as if he were clutching his family's heirloom or something, but he loosened his grip when other guards started to glare at him.

While they were having their fun, with a loud criiick, a younger guard in his twenties entered the watchtower, his clothes quite damp despite his raincoat. He was carrying a wooden box. One of the guards sitting at the table turned to him, frowning. "Michael, why aren't you at your post? he asked while his hands slowly reached for the bat beside his chair and his body slowly leaned forward, ready to get up at a moment's notice. "Think before you answer; you won't like what I will do to you if I don't find the words that came out of your mouth pleasing."

However, Michael just smiled harmlessly as he walked a few steps towards them, now fully in the watchtower. "Do not worry; you will find my words pleasing," Michael said, a wide grin spreading across his face as he slightly lowered the box in his hands. "After all, I came here to share some bitter water with my seniors."

"Bitter water?" One of the guards asked, confused. Another guard beside him just pinched his nose as he looked at his slow buddy. 

Michael, as if he did not notice it or just pretended that he did not notice it, just patted the box a few times and replied, "Twenty bottles of winter Ancer."

All of the guards' eyes light up hearing him; all of the guards exchanged knowing smirks as they looked at one another. The one who had issued the earlier threat stood up, grinning. "Damn, kid, I thought the commander had collected all of them. So, you've been hiding a few, huh?"

Michael turned to face him and asked, "Do you like it?"

"Hahahahaha, kid, I more than like it; I love it." The guard said with a wide grin as he approached Michael and grabbed a bottle from the opening of the box. "1949, huh," the guard said as he whistled, clearly surprised about the age of the wine. He then turned around and grabbed two cups, gave one to Michael, and poured him a cup. Filling it up to the edge. "Bottoms up, kid," he said while he poured himself a cup.

Some of the guards sitting at the table got up as they each took a bottle. With the number of bottles dwindling, from ten to five, then two, then one. When there was only one bottle left. They stopped as they all began to sit at the table. Ready for round two of the poker.

Meanwhile, Michael just sat there with a nervous smile, uncertain if he had joined the gang or not. But one of the guards called out to Michael loudly. "Kid." "Your chair is going to turn cold, you know," he said with a smile.

But Michael's eyes lit up as he got up, setting aside the box as he walked towards the table, ready to join in on them. Each step towards the chair reminded Micheal that he was finally getting accepted into the Clane's gang and that he was no longer a bottom feeder anymore, forced to do dirty and tiring jobs. It almost made him tear up remembering the past six months of his life, forced to scrub toilets, go on errands, and even had to hand over some part of his salary as a tax. When he was about to sit at the table and get accepted to the gang, reality gave him a tight slap on the face as a massive boulder the size of a house fell on top of them like a meteor, its speed unnaturally fast, almost blazing as it made contact with the watchtower. The force of the impact killed everyone inside the tower immediately. None of the guards had any inkling of what was about to happen before they met their tragic end.

()

Two kilometers away stood Yuto, a soft, radiant smile adorning his face, his hand raised in a playful gun pose. Beside him, Clara exhaled deeply, her weariness evident.

"You didn't have to kill everything in our path, you know," she said, sighing as she spoke. "There was only one low-class being among them; the rest were just slightly stronger humans. Even that low-class one was a bottom feeder in its rank." Her exasperation grew as she recalled Yuto pausing at every opportunity to cast spells on anything unlucky enough to cross his path. He seemed determined to test the tips and techniques she had taught him, though his targets were at best middle class. Anything higher was probably obliterated by Thor, leaving behind nothing but ash—or, occasionally, scraps of clothing. She couldn't even tell if any ultimate-class beings had fallen, given Thor's devastating power.

Yuto turned to her with a light chuckle and that same smile. "Ms. Beinzwell, you can go ahead if you want; I won't take long."

Clara wanted to protest, to tell him to stop this needless killing—that indiscriminate slaughter wasn't the way. It was something a loving parent or mentor might say. She opened her mouth, but no words came. After trying again and failing, she gave up, thinking, It's not her place to educate him.

The truth was, if she were a few decades or a century younger, she might have taken on that role, guiding him to become an honorable warrior—or, better yet, an honorable mage. But age and the knowledge that Yuto was as strong as she had been at her peak held her back. In her prime, she might have fought Bayl the Blood Weaver, a peak Ultimate-class devil, to a draw. Now? She didn't stand a chance.

"All right," she muttered, walking away. A few high-class beings trailing them followed her. Only Secil remained, clad in armor and ready for war—though calling it a "war" seemed absurd, given that one of the strongest gods in existence was on their side.

Yuto watched Clara leave, his brow furrowing. "What's wrong with her, Secil?" he asked, genuinely puzzled. He knew Clara's history. The Iron Maiden, they called her—a woman who had slaughtered thousands upon thousands in her path for strength. She had literally killed her way to the top. She had even destroyed the village of Chamber with over a thousand innocent people just over the suspicion that one of her enemies was hiding there plotting something, which proved to be false about a hundred years ago. So why would she look at him like that, and what was she trying to say? "It is probably not morals or something like that, since she had done things much worse than me." He thought as he scratched the side of his face.

Secil's expression was pale, and her eyes were darting nervously. "I... I don't know, Sir Yuto." She answered differently from how she was yesterday, where she was rude and annoyed, fuming and tsking every time Yuto ordered her to do something, although in the end she did everything Yuto tasked perfectly, so Yuto did not have many complaints, but now since morning came, she had been like a frightened kitten, stuttering and fidgeting whenever they talked or even made eye contact. Although it is much better than her being a rude maid. So he did not question it; he flew to the place where he cast the spell to inspect what the result was more closely. While Secil just followed quickly, like a shadow. 

Secil gazed at Yuto, who was looking around the place that he had just destroyed, muttering things like, "It really did work; about 15% less mana was consumed, huh?" Putting her further at unease. Making her feel like he would turn around and kill her, then blame it on the devils or something for all she knew.

She had been like this since learning that Yuto easily defeated a Peak Ultimate class being, who is much stronger than their clan head. When he was less than fourteen, no less, after that she did some extra digging; it was only bits and parts since his information was quite hard to find, because he was mostly alone. From what she found, she learned that he killed hundreds in the past month, no less; heck, he even killed quite a lot of outside bystanders, normal humans, because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Yuto turned to her, a bit confused. "Why are you still calling me Sir? Yuto, you can just call me Tsuki or Tsuki-san if you want; we're not at the base anymore. And you're not my maid anymore."

"Umm, okay, Tsuki-san?" Secil stammered, choosing the honorific without hesitation.

Satisfied, Yuto turned and flew in the direction Clara had gone. As he flew, his thoughts wandered. Now, only the improved blue fireball and vacuum bullet are left. He scanned the area, searching for any unfortunate soul to use as a practice target. Earlier that day, at first they had all traveled together, but Thor and the Valkyries had left after an hour or two, likely irritated by their slower pace. That left Yuto, Clara, and a few others to follow Thor's trail—a straightforward task, given Thor's clear direction.

Yuto had spent much of the journey practicing his magic, using live targets to test the techniques Clara had taught him. He was careful not to expend too much energy, always maintaining around 75% of his mana reserve. They were heading to the Karifian Great Lake, where everyone—Yuto, Clara, and Thor—would regroup before the final battle.

When Yuto arrived at the Karifian Great Lake, he took a moment to admire its beauty. The massive, clear lake, shaped like a plus sign, shimmered with drinkable water. Surveying the scene, he realized he was among the last to arrive. Only the head of the Phamost family and his retainers were absent; everyone else, including Yato and his subordinates, was present.

Yuto landed gracefully, acknowledging the nods he received from Yato and others he recognized. He returned the gestures and made his way toward Clara, where she was sitting on a big boulder, a few meters away from Thor and Yato's group. When he was a few meters away, he called out to her, "So, any battle plan or signals I should know?"

Clara shook her head. "Nothing. Just rush in and kill everyone."

Yuto raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised. For him, it was not possible for there not to be a most basic plan or signal since, without it, it wouldn't be possible to coordinate seamlessly with one another. But since there was only a high class or ultimate class here, it wouldn't be that much of a problem. So he did not get much surprised, but he still asked again to confirm it. "Truly no battle plan?"

Clara shook her head again.

"No signal? No retreat path?" he asked, sighing deeply.

Another shake of the head.

Yuto sighed for the third time in the past minute, breaking an unknown record, but he kind of expected it. Since for Thor, it was but a simple stroll in the park, since he could instantly kill most beings, plus all who will join in this war are elite, with the capability to make sound judgments, at least in most situations. Since, unlike devils or other supernatural beings, the beings here are those who have experienced their fair share of warfare and struggle.

Shaking off his thought, Yuto sat on the ground beside Clara to meditate, regenerating the mana he had used. Nearby, Thor sat drinking a particularly strong alcohol that smelled like Sakura tree leaf, likely brought by Yato. 

And the Phamos family came just ten minutes after Yuto, prompting Thor to finish his drink, which he did in just a second. Gulping it down like it is nothing but water. After which, he threw the bottle towards the ground and stood up. The storm intensified as the thunders fell more rapidly. With even one thunder striking the barrier that one of the Valkyries set up, cracking it in some places, which she quickly mended.

Thor grabbed the hammer on his waist and raised it high towards the sky. Instantly, the thunders in the sky stopped falling, making the surroundings peaceful for a few seconds. Yuto, seeing this, raised his eyes towards the sky and noticed that the thunder did not disappear nor did it weaken when Thor raised his hammer. Instead it made it monstrously strong, with the occasional blue in the thunder increasing visible to the naked eye.

Then Thor lowered his hammer, almost lazily. And the thunder in the sky, as if it heard the order that its master had given, dove towards the direction of the main base of the Shadow Veil. In the shape of a massive mystical dragon, almost as if it was alive.

It was incredibly fast, and in just a thousandth of a second, it reached the barrier of the stronghold. And the moment he did, he exploded. With it, it created a massive shockwave that is akin to a nuke. Blinding Yuto for a few seconds as it did.