A New Motivation: Chapter 26

In canon, Issei wasn’t extremely far behind the peerage in terms of strength. Thanks to the Boosted Gear, the gap that existed between himself and the rest of the group was, if not insignificant, then at the very least jumpable. By the time he dealt with Riser, I'd say he was generously around the level of Kiba and Koneko without his Balance Breaker active.

In this reality though, after weeks of intense training, that small gap was much larger than it would originally have been. And without the looming threat of the Fallen in the church on the edge of the city, it was up to us to get him up to our level.

​I winced as a dull thud echoed across the training field, followed immediately by the sound of someone eating a mouthful of dirt.

​“Keep moving, Issei!” I called out, shielding my eyes from the midday sun. “If you rest now, it’ll be ten times harder to get back up and then you're screwed!”

​Issei groaned, his face buried in the dirt. He slowly pushed himself up on shaking arms, spitting out a clump of grass. “Easy for you to say!” he yelled back, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “You’re not the one being hunted by a tiny juggernaut–AH!”

​He barely finished his sentence before a small fist whistled through the air where his head had been a microsecond before. Issei scrambled backward, his sneakers skidding on the turf as he took off in a desperate sprint with Koneko hot on his heel.

​I let out a short laugh, shaking my head. “We all had to deal with fighting Koneko at some point, Issei!”

​Koneko’s expression was as blank and stoic as ever as she chased the newly-made Devil down. Like the rest of us, she was dressed in the standard Kuoh Academy gym fare: a pair of blue bloomers and a white t-shirt tucked firmly into the elastic waistband. On someone else, it might have looked sporty, but the sheer tightness of the fabric combined with the rigorous movement made the outfit feel… well, decidedly ‘DxD.’ It showed off a lot more skin and hugged every curve far more than I’d normally care for, but I had to admit the gear was surprisingly breathable.

​“I-Isn’t this a little too much?”

​I turned to my side where Asia was watching the chase with her hands clasped over her heart. She looked genuinely distressed, her green eyes shimmering with worry for the pervert. Even though they weren't close, it seemed like Asia was just that kind of pure spirit to worry about others.

​“Believe it or not Koneko is actually going easy on him,” I said, offering a sympathetic smile. “Trust me, if she wasn't, I don't think there would be enough of him left to scrape off of the ground.”

​My words were punctuated by a high-pitched scream and a boom as Issei tripped over his own feet for the third time in the last six minutes. Koneko’s foot slammed into the ground inches from his hip, cratering the soil with the force of a falling meteor.

​“See? She knows not to actually hit him with that,” I continued, not missing a beat. “Besides, all things considered, Issei has it pretty easy.”

​I gestured toward the far end of the clearing, where Mittelt was engaged in a much more lopsided struggle. Mostly because she was actually bothering to struggle.

The Fallen Angel was sporting a look of pure, unadulterated frustration, her blonde pigtails disheveled and her gym clothes dampened with sweat. She held two shimmering light spears in her hands, lunging desperately at Azazel who was fending her off with the same amount of effort you'd use to bat smoke away from your face.

The Cadre had one hand shoved deep into his trouser pocket as he batted her spears aside with one of his own. While Mittelt looked like she was actually trying to kill him, he, in contrast, looked like he was taking a stroll in the park.

​Asia followed my gaze, biting her lip. “Mittelt looks very angry, but I know that she's strong. She won't get hurt as easily as Issei-san.”

That was probably true, if only because she actually had some semblance of combat experience. On the other hand, I doubted her clothes would manage to hold up that well.

I watched the fight progress with a sense of dull amusement marred by slight fascination. The clothing in this universe might as well have been made of paper when compared to the attacks we could output on a whim, and Mittelt was already sporting a few gashes that would take more than a needle and thread to fix up. A few more minutes, and she'd probably need to change unless she wanted to give us all an eyeful..

I doubt he'll let her, though, I thought, glancing at Azazel who was smirking widely. At the very least, it'll be good for Issei to learn how to work with a distraction.

I turned back to the main field, frowning slightly, “Oi, Issei! Get your feet underneath you and stop stumbling or you're gonna–”

Too late. ​I facepalmed as he immediately tripped over a stray root and went down in a heap.

​“We really have our work cut out for us,” I muttered as he groaned on the ground

~~~

​Dirt and dried grass burst into the air as Koneko's fist collided with the flat of my sword. She pushed me backwards, and the top of Red Queen, which I had put into the ground to use as an impromptu shield, carved a furrow in the dirt as the strike pushed me back.

I moved with the blow. With a grunt of effort, I yanked the sword from the ground and swung in a wide arc. My muscles screamed in protest, and every movement felt like I was trying to swim through molasses, but my strength more than made up with it.

​Koneko didn't even try to block. simply collapsing her center of gravity and falling out of the way of the blade as it screamed above her head. As I passed her by, she kipped up into a defensive stance, watching me seriously.  

​I halted the momentum of my strike, breathing heavily. The sword on my hip pulsed with a sinister purple light, and Red Queen dipped slightly as the magic washed over me once more 

​Even though we were back in the city, our training didn't stop. While we were getting Issei up to snuff, Koneko and I set aside some time to train ourselves. This spar had been going on for a little over an hour, and Kiba’s gravity swords ensured that every second of the spar was a living nightmare.

Resistance training was just as hard as I thought it would be, if not even harder. Every step felt like I was walking through mud or molasses, and even breathing was harder as invisible weight pressed down on my chest. 

It was tough. So tough, in fact, that the pain and exhaustion almost drowned out the sound of Issei's complaining

​“I can't move my legs!” Issei’s voice drifted over from a few yards away. He was walking in a wide circle, but his gait was tortured, his knees buckling with every step. He looked like he was being chained to the center of the earth. “How am I supposed to train like this?! It’s impossible!”

​I glanced at him, wiping sweat from my forehead. “That is the training, Issei! You've watched enough anime to know what this is about. Keep going until you can't move a single finger. That’s the only way you’re going to get stronger!”

​Issei let out a pathetic groan that sounded like a dying whale, but he kept shuffling forward.

​I turned my attention back to the pint-sized girl in front of me. Koneko didn't give me time to breathe as lunged again, her speed significantly diminished by the gravity. But I was in the same boat, so I barely dodged her jab, feeling the wind of it whistle past my ear, and returned with a thrust of my pommel.

​Koneko’s hand shot out, catching the handle of the sword. For a long moment, we stayed like that, locked in a stalemate as we  struggled for dominance. My breathing was ragged and though it was quiet, I could hear her panting as well. Even her endurance was starting to take a hit.

 ​“He’s doing pretty well, all things considered,” I panted, nodding toward Issei.

​“It’s been… two days,” Koneko responded, her voice tight with exertion.

​I conceded the point with a grunt. With a surge of power, I manifested a flicker of my Devil Bringer, using the spectral arm to shove Koneko away and create some breathing room.

​We stood a few paces apart, eyeing each other as we got our breathing under control. My knees were shaking, the artificial gravity pressing down on my shoulders with the weight of a mountain. 

Finally, Koneko lowered her hands, her shoulders slumping. ​I did the same, exhaling a long, shaky breath. As my focus wavered, the weight seemed to double. I reached down, unclipped the gravity sword from my belt, and set it carefully on the grass.

​The relief was instantaneous. As the weight disappeared, it left behind an airy feeling, as if I'd been freed and I was going to float away into the cloud. I stretched my arms over my head, hearing my spine pop in several places as the feeling returned to my limbs.

​“Kiba’s work is effective,” I muttered. “But wow, that is exhausting.”

​In front of me, Koneko was doing the same thing, stretching and limbering up with deep lunges and long, catlike stretches. Both of us were in rough shape – covered in a layer of dust, sweat, and a map of fresh scrapes and bruises. Koneko was sporting a nasty-looking cut on her upper arm, and my own shoulder was throbbing with a dull, phantom pain. Koneko had misjudged her strength earlier in the session and nearly yanked my arm out of its socket during a clinch.

​“I’m done for now,” Koneko stated, and I nodded, sending Red Queen away with a flash.

​Asia was on us in seconds. She moved from the sidelines, her hands already glowing with the soft, green light of Sacred Gear.

​“Please stand still, you two. I'm here to help,” she said, her hands fluttering over our injuries. “You hurt each other pretty bad. Are you sure there isn't a better way to do this?”

​“It’s fine, Asia,” I said, sighing as the cooling sensation of the healing magic washed over my shoulder, knitting the muscle back together. “We’re used to it. Right, Koneko?”

​Koneko gave a small, silent nod of agreement.

​Once the cuts were closed and the bruises faded, Asia stood back, looking relieved. We weren't fully recovered, still exhausted and flagging, but we were better than before.

​We turned our attention to the other side of the field where Issei and Mittelt were running laps, bogged down by the blades pulsing on their hips. Issei was lagging behind, his face a bright shade of red and his breath coming in ragged gasps. Mittelt looked marginally better, somewhat used to this kind of exertion, but even she was struggling. Though she was clearly trying to put on a brave face to keep some semblance of pride.

​“That’s enough for today!” I called out.

​Issei didn't even try to stop gracefully. He just went limp, collapsed face-first into the grass and stayed there like a pile of wet mulch. Mittelt came to a halt, leaning heavily on her knees, her blonde hair matted to her forehead.

​“Are we… done yet?” she hissed, glaring at us both.

​Azazel stepped out from the shade of a nearby tree, a playful smirk on his face. “You don't seem very enthusiastic, Mittelt.”

​“I am doing this… so you don't… cut my pay,” she wheezed, not even looking at him. “You know that. I hate this. I hate all of you.”

​Azazel laughed, a deep, booming sound. “Oh yeah, that’s right.”

​He reached into a small satchel at his side and pulled out a gleaming sword, one of Kiba's Resolve Breakers.

“Here. You look like you can use a boost,” he said, handing it off to Mittelt and one to Issei.

Mittelt snatched the sword from Azazel’s outstretched hand, eyeing the pulsing crystal embedded in the hilt with a mixture of wariness and longing. She looked like she wanted to toss it into the nearest river, but her exhaustion won out. As her fingers tightened around the leather-wrapped grip, a faint golden light traveled up her arm, smoothing out the lines of fatigue on her face.

​I followed suit, though I didn't need one of Azazel’s. I reached down to the strange sword hanging off of my hip and willed the energy stored within back into my system.

​An invigorating rush of my own energy flooded my veins. It was like downing five espressos at once, the dull ache in my muscles receding and the fog in my mind clearing instantly. I let out a long breath, feeling the hum of my own power stabilizing.

Kiba's Resolve Breakers were incredible as always, though recently, a small caveat had been revealed in how they worked. Before now, while we were training over the break, everyone in the peerage had their own to fill and empty as we needed, so we didn't really need to share. And it was a good thing too, as Azazel had found after expressing interest in studying the swords.

Basically, the energy stored inside a Resolve Breaker could only be retrieved by someone biologically and magically compatible with the original donor. In the supernatural world, that meant species and, to a lesser extent, gender were the primary factor. Trying to siphon energy from someone incompatible was basically toxic. At best, you’d end up with a soul-crushing migraine and at worst, your body would reject the foreign energy so violently you’d suffer magical organ failure.

​That meant that thanks to my unique biology, no one else in the peerage could tap into my reserves, and I couldn't use theirs. Akeno was in a similar boat thanks to the fact that she was part Fallen Angel. It was a good thing we caught this before trying to share some energy with our new peerage member. It'd be messed up to go through all that training only to accidentally poison Issei during his first session.

​As we topped ourselves back up, Issei looked especially refreshed. He'd been given some of Kiba's energy, and it was clear that he was feeling the power rushing through his veins.

He jumped to his feet, stretching his arms over his head. “Whoa! I feel like I could run a marathon! That stuff is amazing!” He said, before turning to me, “So, does that mean we’re done for the day? Because I have some stuff to do back home”

​I offered him a smirk that was probably a little too mean. “Done? Issei, that was just a top up. We’re nowhere near finished for today.”

​Issei’s face paled. “W-what?”

In response, ​I drew Red Queen again, slamming the blade into the ground with a bang. Issei flinched and Mittelt groaned, her shoulders slumping.

​“You two are up again,” I said, the engine of my sword giving an angry growl as I revved it once. “This time, you’re fighting me.”

​“I hate my life!” Issei screamed, even as he scrambled to get into a fighting stance.

~~ One Week Later ~~

​The sounds of grunts and clashing steel filled the training ground. I stood on the sidelines, my arms crossed, watching the spectacle.

​Issei was currently engaged in a frantic spar with Mittelt. He wasn't exactly winning; Mittelt was more experienced than him by far, having been born into the supernatural world instead of thrust into it via a magical artifact…

But he wasn't being destroyed either. His frantic attacks had some thought behind them and he didn't just scramble out of the way of every attack with a shriek. Now when he dodged, he actually struck back. It was a clumsy swing, but one that actually forced Mittelt to move.

​“His battle instincts are starting to awaken,” Azazel noted. “A week ago, she would have had him pinned in ten seconds. Now he’s making her work for it. I’d say he's almost there.”

​“Almost isn't enough,” I replied, though I couldn't hide the small bit of pride in my voice. “He needs a bit of a push if he's going to awaken his gear.”

​In the center of the field, Mittelt caught Issei with a sweeping kick to his ankles. He went down hard, the air leaving his lungs in a wheeze. Before he could recover, she had a light spear pressed against the hollow of his throat, her pigtails bouncing as she smirked down at him.

​“Stay down, pervert,” she huffed, her chest heaving under her sweat-soaked shirt. “You’re pathetic. Just give up so I can go take a shower.”

​Issei stared up at her, his eyes glazed with exhaustion. He looked like he was ready to quit. His spirit was flagging, and if this kept up, it was going to take a while before he managed to awaken the Booster Gear.

With that in mind, ​I decided it was time to play the trump card. It worked in the show, after all 

​“Hey, Issei!” I called out, cupping my hands around my mouth. “I almost forgot! Rias told me this morning that she’s been thinking about that bet!”

​Issei’s head snapped toward me, his eyes widening.

​“She said,” I continued, my voice dripping with mischief, “that if you can actually beat Mittelt in a spar by the end of the week, she might let you get a peek at her chest. Without. A. Bra.”

​The effect was instantaneous and, frankly, a little terrifying.

​A wave of crimson energy, thick and boiling, exploded out of Issei’s body. The grass around him flattened under the sheer pressure of his aura, and goosebumps crawled over my skin as the wave of power reached me.

A bright red flash engulfed his left hand, and when it cleared, the Boosted Gear was clamped onto his arm, the emerald jewel glowing with a fierce light.

[BOOST!] ​The metallic roar of the gauntlet echoed across the field, followed by another wave of power tinged with draconic presence.

​Azazel burst out laughing, slapping his knee. “That’s all it takes!? Just offer to flash the boy some sweater meat and he unlocks a power with enough potential to kill a god? This kid's so simple!”

​I folded my arms, watching smugly as Mittelt shrieked and jumped back, her eyes wide with shock at the sudden, violent increase in Issei's power. “It’s effective, isn't it?”

​“Y-you freak!” Mittelt yelled, manifesting a fresh spear. “You’re disgusting! I can't believe I have to breathe the same air as a pervert like you!”

​“Call me whatever you want!” Issei roared, his face twisted in a look of pure, unadulterated determination. “That doesn't matter now! My soul has been reignited and my goal has been realized! You’re standing between me and the Promised Land, Mittelt! And I’m going through you!”

​As the fight resumed, it was abundantly clear that something had changed. Issei's sudden increase in power, alongside the absurdity of the situation, had rendered Mittelt completely off guard. She held a light spear up but Issei closed the distance twice as fast as before, swinging his arm with a roar, breaking her weapon with a sound like shattering glass. 

Mittelt jumped back, jaw agape as she stared at her broken weapon. Issei panted, his eyes lighting up with victory as he saw the damage he did.

“Hell yeah!” Issei clenched his armored fist, a wide grin on his face, “This spar is already over! You might as well just give up and let me touch you so I can get on to bigger things!”

Mittelt's eyes narrowed and she conjurer another light spear, pointing it at him in warning. “Touch me and I'm going to pin you to a tree, you disgusting Devil!”

“Here I come!”

As Issei went to work, taking advantage of Mittelt's surprise to put her on her back foot – I heard the sound of footsteps on the dirt path behind us. I turned, my eyes widening as I caught sight of Aika walking onto the field.

​She came to a stop beside me, her gaze fixed on Issei, who was currently swinging his gauntlet with reckless abandon. We watched quietly for a few moments, before she broke ner silence.

​“That looks… intense,” Aika said dryly. She watched as Issei narrowly missed Mittelt's head, earning a knee to the gut that knocked the wind and power out of his body. “And extremely stupid. Why is he screaming about chest balloons?”

​“Take a guess,” I said, making her snort. I crossed my arms. “You should have seen him last week when he could barely stand. And now he's fighting a Fallen Angel by himsemf He's come pretty far.” 

​Aika pushed her glasses up her nose, watching as Issei took a hit to the shoulder and barely flinched, his gauntlet glowing as it prepared another increase in power. “I wouldn’t exactly call that fighting. It looks more like angry, horny flailing.”

​[BOOST!]

​The gauntlet growled again, and Issei’s speed doubled. He darted forward, almost catching Mittelt who reeled back at the sudden increase in speed.

​Aika’s mouth dropped open just a fraction. “Okay… That was a little more impressive.”

I nodded silently. We watched the spar in silence, witnessing Issei's work come to fruition. Mittelt was clearly frustrated now, her light spears shattering against the red armor of the Boosted Gear.

​“Is he going to win?” Aika asked.

​“Maybe not today,” I said. “He’s almost at his limit and then his power won’t go any higher. But he's gonna give her a run for her money until then.”

​Issei’s voice drifted over the field again: “Mean words have no effect on me! I’m going to beat you, Mittelt! And then I’m going to see the Holy Grail bounce in my face!”

​Aika winced, looking at me. “You guys really chose him to be in your little club?”

“He's a pervert, but he's not completely evil,” I said lightly. “The fact that he has one of the most powerful Sacred Gears out there helps too.”

“I'm sure.”

Aika stood in silence for a few more minutes before turning to me. The wariness in her eyes was still there, but beneath it was that same flicker of interest I’d seen in the clubroom.

​“Nero,” she said, her voice lower now. “If I decided to become a Devil, what would I have to give up?”

I saw the question for what it was and answered earnestly.

“Joining Rias's peerage is like being adopted, it's permanent,” I said. “Besides that, having a normal life will be impossible and sometimes dangerous.”

The hesitance in her eyes grew and I continued hastily, “But you could keep some aspects” I amended. “You could still go to school, keep living with your parents, stuff like that. You don't have to give everything up just to become a Devil.”

“Just the most important part,” Aika muttered, turning back to watch the fight. Despite her words, she seemed almost relieved, a small tension leaving her shoulders. We watched as Issei got knocked on his butt, Mittelt getting her second wind, but he didn't stay down for long. 

There's that Rook durability, I thought, watching him get right back into it. I wonder how much that's gonna change. 

Meh. Probably less than I already did.

​“I think I’ve seen enough angry flailing for one day,” Aika said after a moment, adjusting her bag. “I want to go see Rias.”

​I nodded, watching her walk back toward the old schoolhouse. “She’s in the clubroom. Tell her Issei finally managed to do it. She'll be happy to hear it.”

​As she left, I turned back to the field. Issei was charging again, his gauntlet glowing a brilliant emerald.

​“Alright, Issei!” I yelled. “Ten more minutes! If you can land one solid hit on Mittelt, we’ll call it a day!”

“I ONLY NEED TEN SECONDS!”

We were out there for two more hours.