They lost.
Their battle had ended in defeat.
At first, it had been a great success.
Facing Freed—wielder of the four Excaliburs Valper had forged together—Rias, Issei, Kiba, Xenovia, and the rest had managed to overcome him.
Kiba, drawing strength from the memories of his fallen friends, had awakened the Balance Breaker of his Sacred Gear, Sword Birth.
The once-feared Excalibur had been shattered beneath the power of that holy-demonic blade.
The Balance Breaker, the Forbidden Move, was the evolved state of a Sacred Gear that unleashed its full potential.
Few wielders ever reached it, but Kiba had, and with Issei’s Boosted Gear augmenting their strength and Xenovia fighting with the true holy sword Durandal, Excalibur’s terror had crumbled.
Durandal was a complete, perfect blade—unlike the diverted, reassembled shards of Excalibur—so when Kiba’s holy-demonic power met Xenovia’s Durandal and Issei’s Boosted Gear, Freed stood no chance.
With Excalibur gone, Kiba at last tasted peace for the first time since the hatred had taken root.
They had also felled Cerberus, Kokabiel’s legendary hound, which bolstered their morale: they thought they had won.
Then everything changed.
“Guah!” “Whoa!” Before they could claim triumph, a spear of searing light pierced Kiba and Issei’s guts.
Everyone froze.
“Kiba-san!
Issei-san!” Asia cried, throwing herself forward with Twilight Healing, while Koneko forced them to swallow the Phenex Tears as fast as she could.
They recovered enough to breathe, but the burn remained, a hollow, lingering pain—light was a devil’s weakness, and angelic radiance cut deeper than any blade.
“Trash,” Kokabiel said.
He looked at them like they were insects.
Valper—already broken and crushed by the loss of his Excalibur—couldn’t hide his grin as Kokabiel entered the fray.
But the smile died when Kokabiel’s contempt turned on him.
In an instant, Valper’s body tumbled, lifeless; he hadn’t even had time to understand what had struck him.
“What trash.
I thought Excalibur would be exemplary, but it can be destroyed by a group of trash.
What use is such a sword?” Kokabiel sneered.
He had expected Valper’s creation to surprise him, to tip the scales in the factional war—now he saw it for what it was: fragile, limited, unworthy.
Only then did they realize how strong Kokabiel really was.
Rias unleashed Destruction; Akeno called down thunder inherited from her father; Issei and the others poured everything into their attacks—but none of it even nicked Kokabiel.
Despair spread through the group.
The Phenex Tears Sona had given them were nearly exhausted from constant consumption; they could not keep going forever.
Kokabiel was not in a hurry to kill them.
He would wait for Serafall and Sirzech—then, when both sides were present, he could make his grand statement.
Before that, however, he would savor the moment.
He wanted them to hear the truth before they died.
“But—seeing that even after losing the masters you serve, you devils and followers of God can still fight, huh?” he taunted.
“What do you mean?” Rias demanded, though the question trembled.
Kokabiel laughed, cruel and bright.
“Fuhahaha!
I forgot you lower ones didn’t know.
Time to enlighten you.
In the war between the three sides, not only the Yondai-Maou but God died.” A stunned silence fell over them.
“It’s normal you wouldn’t know.
Who would believe that God could die?
Humans are incomplete; without God, they cannot keep their hearts in line.
Even we, fallen angels and devils, couldn’t tell the lesser ranks—it would leak and cause panic.
Only the very top knew.
Though it seems Valper discovered it earlier.” He watched their faces, enjoying their reactions.
“After the war, what remained were angels without God, devils without their Maou, and a handful of leaders among the fallen.
All factions were hollowed out.
They relied on humans to continue their lines—angels and fallen angels especially, for only by mating with humans could the fallen increase their numbers.
Pure angels couldn’t reproduce as before without God.
It wasn’t a mere weakening—it was cultural collapse.” Xenovia’s world swayed.
“Lies.
It’s a lie…” she whispered, as if repeating it would make it false.
“The truth is another great war wouldn’t happen unless someone forced it,” Kokabiel went on.
“Everyone—angels, devils, fallen—decided war was meaningless with the pillars dead.
Even Azazel declared there would be ‘no second war’ after losing most of his men.
It’s intolerable to give up a war when there’s still blood on your hands, but they did.
If we’d kept fighting, we might have won.
If only they’d continued…
Is there any value in fallen angels who can only propagate by using humans who possess Sacred Gears?” “God doesn’t exist?
God is dead?
Then the love He gave us—” Asia’s voice broke.
“Yes.
God is gone.
Michael fills the void now; he manages angels and humans as best he can.
The ‘system’—prayers, blessings, exorcism—still functions because Michael and the structure are in place, but it’s diminished compared to when God was present.
The balance between holy and demonic power broke when both God and Maou fell.
That imbalance allowed rare phenomena: holy and demonic energies merging to create things like that holy-demonic sword over there.
Without the original rulers, these anomalies appear.” Kokabiel’s tone turned feverish.
“From here on, I will start a war.
I’ll take your heads as offerings.
Even if I stand alone, I will carry on where we left off!
I’ll show Sirzech and Michael the might of the fallen angels!” The guilt was unbearable.
Rias felt it more than anyone—why hadn’t she called for Rafsan earlier?
If Rafsan had been here from the start, could this have been avoided?
She had failed to protect them.
There was no time to wallow.
Rias poured every last bit of demonic power into her attack and stepped between Kokabiel and her injured friends.
“Run!” she cried.
For a heartbeat, the blast seemed to take; then Kokabiel knocked her away with a single swing.
Blood streaked her cheek.
She rose again, forcing herself to strike, but the pressure of his presence crushed her effort.
None of them ran—Issei, Kiba, Xenovia, Akeno, Koneko, Gasper, Asia—all surged forward despite their injuries.
Kokabiel smirked.
“You dare resist?
How touching,” he said, condensing a massive sphere of holy light between his hands and hurling it like judgment.
Rias, flattened to the earth, saw the radiance streaking toward them and had only one thought: Rafsan.
Will he be all right if I die?
Her breath came short.
A hand touched her head.
She blinked up.
Rafsan stood over her.
He looked at her and smiled.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said simply.
Behind him, Angela lifted a single hand.
The sphere stopped.
A moment later, it broke apart into countless particles.
Kokabiel’s expression flickered from rage to disbelief.
His eyes darkened as he looked at the two newcomers.
Rias let out a shaky breath.
She was relieved.
At the same time, she couldn’t stop feeling guilty.
For the first time since the battle began, they had hope.
Kokabiel snarled, a sound without mirth.
The ground itself trembled under his fury.
“So the reinforcements have arrived.
Fine.
I’ll take this chance to finish you all.” He readied another colossal stroke of radiance, his eyes blazing.
And the rest of the peerage, wounded but unbroken, aligned behind Rias.
The atmosphere changed.
Rafsan’s face was composed.
He started walking toward Kokabiel.
He brought out a phone from his pocket and said, “Transform.” CREATORS’ THOUGHTS Safin_Rafsan If you’re enjoying Rafsan and Rias’s story, consider adding the fanfic to your collection.
It really helps the story reach more readers.