✦ The Last Magus and the Crimson Garden ✦
Solomon in DxD – Harem of Heaven and Hell
Prologue: Remnants of a King
Solomon remembered burning.
Not the fire itself—that had been merciful in its swiftness—but the choice to burn. The decision to return what had never truly been his. To relinquish immortality, to surrender divinity, to abandon the throne of magic itself.
He remembered becoming ash, and then... nothing.
Until now.
The air tasted different here. Heavier with power, yet chaotic in its composition. Magical currents mingled with divine essences and demonic energies in ways that defied the structured laws he once governed. Solomon stood perfectly still in the empty classroom, morning light streaming through windows that faced an unfamiliar skyline.
"Kuoh Academy," he whispered, the name appearing in his mind without context or explanation.
His fingers—human again, warm with blood and life—traced the smooth surface of a teacher's desk. The sensation was overwhelming after an eternity of nonexistence. Cloth against skin. Weight upon bones. The mechanics of breathing.
"This isn't restoration," he concluded, speaking to the empty room. "This is... translation."
The universe had not returned him; it had relocated him. The echoes of his existence, the imprint he had left upon reality itself, had found resonance in a parallel world where magic operated under different principles. He was neither summoned nor reborn—simply relocated, like a fundamental constant of reality adjusting itself across the multiverse.
Solomon closed his eyes, casting his senses outward.
What he felt nearly brought him to his knees.
Angels. True celestials, not the divine spirits he had once commanded. Devils, whose essence reminded him of the demonic pillars yet followed entirely different hierarchies. Fallen beings who walked the boundary between grace and corruption. Dragons whose power rivaled the gods themselves.
And humans—so many humans, blissfully unaware they shared their world with legends.
"Like a garden," he murmured, a faint smile touching his lips for the first time in three thousand years. "Wild and untended, but beautiful in its chaos."
The door slid open behind him.
"I see you've found your way," came a refined voice edged with careful neutrality.
Solomon turned to face a man with crimson hair and eyes that had witnessed centuries. Power radiated from him—not the raw might of a warrior, but the calculated presence of a strategist.
"Sirzechs Lucifer," Solomon said, the name appearing in his consciousness like a translation. "You're the representative of the Devil faction."
The man's eyebrows rose slightly. "You know who I am without introduction. I suppose that confirms at least some of what we've detected."
"And what have you detected, Lord Lucifer?"
"A disturbance. A magical signature unlike anything we've recorded. Power that exceeds measurement yet remains perfectly controlled." Sirzechs stepped further into the room, closing the door behind him. "And then you appeared. A man who bears no magical circle, employs no transportation spell, yet simply... manifests at the center of the anomaly."
Solomon nodded once. "I did not choose to come here."
"Yet here you stand," Sirzechs replied, "breathing, physical, and radiating an aura that has every faction leader meeting in emergency session." His expression softened slightly. "Except for me. I volunteered to make first contact."
"Why?"
"Curiosity," the devil admitted with surprising candor. "And perhaps a measure of hope. Power like yours typically heralds destruction. Yet you appeared quietly, claimed no territory, issued no challenge. You simply... waited."
Solomon turned to look out the window again, observing the students beginning to arrive in the courtyard below.
"I've had enough of destruction," he said simply.
"Then perhaps we can offer each other something," Sirzechs proposed. "We need to understand what you are and why you're here. You, I suspect, need time to acclimate to your new existence."
"What do you propose?"
"A position here, at this academy. As a special instructor. The school exists under the protection of multiple factions and serves as neutral ground. It would allow us to monitor you while providing you with purpose."
Solomon considered this. Teaching. Sharing knowledge rather than wielding it as power. There was a quiet poetry to it.
"I accept," he said. "On one condition."
"Name it."
"I am to be treated as a man, not as a weapon, resource, or potential ally to be courted." Solomon's eyes, deep and ancient, met the devil's. "I will teach. I will answer questions about myself when I deem appropriate. But I will not be drawn into the politics of this world's pantheons."
Sirzechs studied him for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Agreed—though I cannot speak for all factions."
"No leader ever can," Solomon replied with the weariness of one who had once been king.
"There is one more thing," Sirzechs added, his tone carefully measured. "My sister attends this academy. She leads the Occult Research Club—our cover for devil activities here. She and her peerage will be your primary... observers."
Solomon understood the implicit warning. This man, despite his diplomatic approach, was first and foremost a protective brother.
"I have no interest in conquest, Lord Lucifer," Solomon assured him quietly. "Of any kind."
Little did either man know how profoundly untrue those words would prove to be.
Not because Solomon sought power or dominion—but because in a world built on strength and alliances, his greatest conquest would be accidental: the hearts of women from every realm, drawn not to what he could give them, but to what he alone could see within them.
Chapter 1: The Silent Teacher
Professor Solomon cut an unusual figure in Kuoh Academy's faculty room. Among the cheerful chatter of teachers and their morning routines, he remained an island of quiet contemplation. His appearance defied clear categorization—neither young nor old, his features handsome but austere, with eyes that reflected a depth of experience that made others reflexively lower their voices in his presence.
Students whispered theories about the mysterious new "special instructor" who taught no regular classes but was occasionally called to lecture on history, theology, and ancient languages. Some said he was a visiting scholar from abroad. Others swore he was a retired military specialist brought in to enhance security after recent incidents.
None suspected he was the former King of Magic, a man who had once commanded seventy-two demon pillars and witnessed the foundations of human civilization.
"Ah, Professor Solis! Would you care to join us for coffee?" A friendly mathematics teacher gestured toward the small break area where faculty members gathered.
Solomon (who now used the simplified surname "Solis" for administrative purposes) offered a polite smile and declined with a gentle shake of his head. His colleagues had learned to accept his reserved nature, though it did little to dampen their curiosity about him.
As the morning bell rang, he gathered a small leather satchel containing ancient texts he'd been studying—gifts from Sirzechs, who had hoped they might reveal more about Solomon's nature and origins. So far, they had merely provided the former king with insight into how drastically different this world's magical systems were from his own.
His designated office was small but sufficient, located in the old wing of the school building—conveniently, or perhaps deliberately, near the Occult Research Club's headquarters. Solomon had no regular teaching schedule, which allowed him to spend hours in quiet study, interrupted only by occasional visits from students seeking guidance on research projects.
Or, as was increasingly the case, by members of Rias Gremory's peerage, who found increasingly creative excuses to observe him.
A soft knock at his door pulled Solomon from his contemplation of a text on ley lines.
"Enter," he called, his voice quiet yet carrying a resonance that seemed to linger in the air.
The door opened to reveal Akeno Himejima, the vice-president of the Occult Research Club. With her traditional Japanese beauty, long raven hair, and perpetual smile that never quite reached her eyes, she presented herself as the perfect student. Solomon, however, saw what lay beneath—the careful control, the pain carefully hidden, the duality of her nature as half-fallen angel constantly at war within herself.
"Pardon the intrusion, Professor Solis," she said with a graceful bow. "President Gremory asked me to deliver this invitation."
She extended an envelope bearing the Gremory seal. Solomon accepted it with a nod of thanks.
"An invitation?"
"To observe our club activities this afternoon," Akeno explained, her voice maintaining its melodic quality. "President Gremory believes your expertise might prove valuable in our current research project."
Solomon knew, of course, that there was no "research project." This was simply the latest in a series of transparent attempts by Rias Gremory to learn more about him. He found her persistence both amusing and somewhat admirable.
"I see," he replied simply. "Please inform Miss Gremory that I will attend."
Akeno's eyes widened slightly—she had clearly expected another polite refusal, as had been his pattern thus far. "Wonderful. We meet at three o'clock in the old schoolhouse."
"I am familiar with the location."
A brief silence fell between them. Most people would have fidgeted or made excuses to leave under Solomon's steady gaze, but Akeno remained composed, studying him with careful curiosity.
"Is there something else, Miss Himejima?" he asked gently.
"Actually, Professor..." she began, then hesitated uncharacteristically. "There is a question I've been meaning to ask you."
Solomon gestured to the chair across from his desk. "Please."
Akeno sat with perfect posture, hands folded in her lap. "The other day, during the thunderstorm, you were walking across the courtyard while lightning struck nearby."
"I recall the incident."
"You didn't flinch," she said, her voice taking on a subtle intensity. "Not even slightly. And for just a moment, I sensed... something. A response in your aura to the lightning itself. Almost as if you were... recognizing it."
Solomon regarded her carefully. Of all Rias's peerage, Akeno was the most perceptive—and potentially the most dangerous in her observations. Her affinity for lightning magic made her especially sensitive to certain aspects of his power.
"Lightning has never been my enemy," he answered after a thoughtful pause. "Nor has it been my servant. We are... old acquaintances, you might say."
"Old acquaintances," she repeated softly, a genuine smile briefly replacing her usual mask. "That's a rather poetic way to describe a natural phenomenon."
"Is it?" Solomon's eyes held hers. "I wonder, Miss Himejima, if you would say the same about your own relationship with thunder and lightning."
The subtle widening of her eyes and momentary tension in her shoulders told him his gentle probe had hit its mark. She recovered quickly, but not before he had glimpsed the vulnerability beneath her perfect facade.
"Three o'clock, then," she said, rising gracefully. "We look forward to your attendance, Professor."
As she reached the door, Solomon spoke again. "Miss Himejima."
She paused, looking back over her shoulder.
"Power does not define worthiness," he said quietly. "It never has. It never will."
A brief flash of genuine emotion crossed her features—surprise, confusion, and something like hope—before her practiced smile returned.
"Until this afternoon, Professor."
After she left, Solomon returned to his studies, but his mind remained on the upcoming meeting. After weeks of maintaining distance, he had finally accepted an invitation from Rias Gremory. The Three Factions representatives would be pleased; they had been pressing him to engage more directly with the devil heiress and her group.
What none of them realized was that Solomon had his own reasons for accepting this particular invitation. Something was stirring in the magical currents that flowed through Kuoh—something ancient and discordant that reminded him of powers he had confronted in his original world.
The Occult Research Club might be watching him, but he had also been watching them—and the shadows that seemed to be gathering around them.
Solomon closed the ancient text before him with a decisive motion. This afternoon would mark a turning point. He had observed long enough.
It was time to properly introduce himself to the young devils who would soon face dangers they could not possibly comprehend.
Chapter 2: The Crimson Heiress
The old schoolhouse that served as headquarters for the Occult Research Club stood apart from the main campus buildings, surrounded by trees that whispered secrets to those attuned to such things. Solomon approached precisely at three o'clock, pausing briefly to admire the building's Victorian architecture—a strange yet fitting choice for a club devoted to the supernatural.
The moment he crossed the threshold, he felt it: a complex web of magical barriers, detection spells, and protective enchantments. Impressive work for one so young, he noted, easily identifying Rias Gremory's magical signature interwoven with traces of her Queen's power.
He could have dispersed these protections with a thought, but he allowed them to wash over him, permitting their assessment of his presence. It would be impolite, after all, to dismantle a host's security measures without provocation.
A small, white-haired girl appeared at the end of the hallway, regarding him with eyes far older than her apparent age suggested.
"Koneko Toujou," Solomon greeted her with a slight nod. "Thank you for meeting me."
The petite girl's eyes narrowed slightly. "You know my name."
"I make it a point to learn about those who observe me," he replied simply.
A flicker of something—perhaps respect—crossed her otherwise impassive features. "This way," she said, turning to lead him down the hallway.
Solomon followed, noting how the girl moved with the careful precision of one constantly aware of her own strength. A Nekomata, if his assessments were correct, though she concealed her true nature behind powerful seals.
They reached an ornate door, which Koneko opened without knocking. Inside, the club room resembled an elegant Victorian salon, with antique furniture, bookshelves lined with occult texts, and a distinctive circular magic formation inlaid in the floor.
Rias Gremory stood as he entered, flanked by her peerage: Akeno at her right hand, a brown-haired boy (Issei Hyoudou, the recent Red Dragon Emperor, Solomon recalled) looking nervous but determined, a blonde girl with gentle eyes (Asia Argento, former Holy Maiden) who smiled timidly, and a handsome blonde young man (Yuuto Kiba, the sword wielder) whose casual stance belied his readiness to move at a moment's notice.
"Professor Solis," Rias greeted him, her crimson hair cascading over her shoulders like liquid fire. "Thank you for accepting our invitation. We're honored by your presence."
Solomon inclined his head politely. "The honor is mine, Miss Gremory. Your dedication to your studies is admirable."
Her smile remained perfectly diplomatic, though her eyes—the same striking blue-green as her brother's—assessed him carefully. "Please, have a seat. Akeno has prepared tea."
The vice-president was already pouring from an elegant teapot, her movements graceful and precise. Solomon took the offered seat, a high-backed chair positioned so that every member of the peerage could observe him clearly—a detail that did not escape his notice.
"I believe introductions are in order," Rias continued, gesturing to her companions. "Though I suspect you may already know who we are."
"Indeed," Solomon replied. "Your reputation precedes you, Miss Gremory, as does that of your accomplished peerage. Akeno Himejima, your Queen. Koneko Toujou, your Rook. Yuuto Kiba, your Knight. Asia Argento, your Bishop. And Issei Hyoudou, your Pawn—and current Red Dragon Emperor."
The brown-haired boy stiffened at the mention of his title. "How do you know about that?" he blurted out, earning a warning glance from his King.
Solomon's lips curved in a slight smile. "Dragons have a distinctive... resonance. Particularly those housing Sacred Gears of such significance."
"You seem very knowledgeable about matters most humans would find impossible to comprehend," Rias observed, accepting a teacup from Akeno. "Which brings us to the reason we invited you here today."
"Does it?" Solomon questioned mildly, taking a sip of the perfectly brewed tea. "I was under the impression this meeting was about a research project."
A brief flash of discomfort crossed Rias's features—being caught in a transparent pretense was clearly not something she was accustomed to.
"You've been at Kuoh Academy for nearly a month now," she said, redirecting the conversation. "Yet despite my brother's assurances that you pose no threat, we know almost nothing about you."
"What would you like to know?"
The directness of his response seemed to surprise her. Rias exchanged a quick glance with Akeno before continuing. "Who are you, really? Where do you come from? And why are you here?"
Solomon set down his teacup with deliberate care. "Those are three very different questions, Miss Gremory."
"Yet they seem fundamentally related in your case," she countered.
"Perhaps." He studied her for a moment—the proud tilt of her chin, the intelligence in her eyes, the subtle signs of stress that she concealed from her peerage. "What do you know of Solomon?"
The question clearly caught her off guard. "King Solomon? From the Bible?"
"Among other texts, yes."
Rias's brow furrowed slightly. "He was the third king of Israel, known for his wisdom and magical knowledge. He supposedly controlled seventy-two demons and possessed rings of immense power. In devil society, he's considered something of a historical adversary, though the accounts vary widely depending on which faction you consult."
Solomon nodded. "A fair summary, if somewhat incomplete."
"Are you suggesting there's a connection between you and the biblical Solomon?" Kiba asked, speaking for the first time.
"I am suggesting," Solomon replied carefully, "that names have power, and identities are fluid across the boundaries of universes."
A heavy silence fell over the room. It was Akeno who broke it, her voice uncharacteristically serious.
"You're claiming to be King Solomon."
"I was once called by that name," he acknowledged. "In another world, another time. I held different titles as well: King of Magic. The Wise King. Grand Caster." His eyes met Rias's directly. "But here, in this world, I am simply Solomon Solis, a teacher assigned to observe and be observed."
Issei leapt to his feet. "That's impossible! You're saying you're some ancient king from thousands of years ago? From a different universe?"
"Issei," Rias cautioned, though her own expression betrayed her shock.
Solomon remained calm. "You host the spirit of one of the most powerful dragons in existence within your body, Mr. Hyoudou. Is my existence truly so much more difficult to accept?"
"But how?" Asia asked softly, her gentle voice drawing everyone's attention. "How did you come here?"
Solomon's expression softened as he regarded the former Holy Maiden. "That, Miss Argento, is the question I myself have been attempting to answer. I did not choose to come here. I was... translated. The echoes of my existence, the fundamental patterns of my being, found resonance in this universe and reconstructed me."
"That doesn't make sense," Rias objected. "People don't just materialize across dimensional boundaries without cause."
"Unless," Koneko said quietly from her position near the window, "something called him."
All eyes turned to the white-haired girl.
"An astute observation," Solomon acknowledged with a nod of respect. "Indeed, I believe something did call me—or rather, necessitated my presence. There are disturbances in the magical foundations of this world that bear troubling similarities to threats I once faced in my original existence."
Rias leaned forward, her initial skepticism giving way to focused attention. "What kind of disturbances?"
"Echoes of primordial magic. Patterns of corruption that precede even the Biblical system that governs much of this world's supernatural structure." Solomon's voice remained calm, but a weight entered his words. "I've sensed them growing stronger over the past weeks. I believe they may be what drew me here—a cosmic balancing, if you will."
"And my brother knows this?" Rias asked, a hint of hurt creeping into her voice at the thought of being kept in the dark.
"Your brother knows I am monitoring unusual magical phenomena," Solomon clarified. "He does not know the full extent of my concerns. I wished to confirm my suspicions before raising an alarm."
Akeno's eyes narrowed. "And what brought you to the point of sharing these concerns with us now?"
Solomon turned to her, appreciation for her perceptiveness evident in his gaze. "Because the patterns are accelerating, Miss Himejima. And because they appear to be centering on this school—and more specifically, on certain individuals within it."
"The Occult Research Club," Kiba concluded grimly.
"Not exclusively," Solomon corrected. "But yes, you appear to be focal points, particularly..." His eyes shifted to Issei. "...those of you with connections to powers that transcend conventional hierarchies."
The young man unconsciously placed a hand over his chest, where the Boosted Gear resided.
"So what do we do?" Rias asked, her authoritative demeanor reasserting itself as she processed this information. "If what you're saying is true—"
"Whether you believe my identity or not is immaterial at this point," Solomon interrupted gently. "The threat is real, regardless of who I am."
Rias studied him for a long moment, her analytical mind visible behind her striking eyes. Finally, she nodded.
"Very well, Professor... Solomon. What do you propose?"
"First, enhanced vigilance. I've detected particular concentrations of the anomalous energy in several locations around Kuoh. We should establish a monitoring schedule." He turned to Akeno. "Your sensitivity to magical currents would be particularly valuable in this effort."
The vice-president nodded, a hint of surprise at his acknowledgment of her abilities.
"Second, preparation. If my suspicions are correct, these disturbances may soon manifest in more tangible forms."
"You mean attacks," Koneko stated flatly.
"Yes," Solomon confirmed. "Though perhaps not in ways you would immediately recognize as hostile."
"And third?" Rias prompted.
"Education," Solomon said simply. "Your peerage is formidable, Miss Gremory, but the threats we may face originate from magical systems that even the devil aristocracy has limited knowledge of. I can provide context and training that may prove essential."
Rias sat back, considering his words. The room remained silent as everyone awaited her decision. As their King, the final call was hers.
"I'll need to consult with my brother," she said finally. "But in the meantime, I accept your offer of assistance, Professor. We'll begin immediately."
Solomon inclined his head in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Miss Gremory."
"Rias," she corrected him with the first genuine smile she'd offered since his arrival. "If we're to work together against threats to our world, I think we can dispense with formalities."
A subtle shift occurred in the room's atmosphere—not quite trust, but the first seedling of cooperation.
"Very well, Rias," Solomon agreed. "Then let us begin."
None of them could have predicted how this alliance would transform them all—least of all Rias herself, whose careful political calculations would soon be overshadowed by emotions far more powerful than strategic interest.
For as they worked together in the coming days, she would discover something that shook the foundations of her carefully constructed identity: in Solomon's eyes, she was not the Gremory heiress, not a devil aristocrat, not a political piece on the board of faction politics.
For perhaps the first time in her life, she was simply Rias. And the freedom of being truly seen would awaken feelings she had never anticipated—and was entirely unprepared to confront.
Chapter 3: The Priestess of Thunder
Twilight painted Kuoh Academy in shades of amber and gold as Solomon stood atop the school's roof, eyes closed, senses extended beyond physical limitations. For three hours, he had remained motionless, tracking the subtle currents of magical energy that flowed through the town like invisible rivers.
"Find anything interesting?"
He did not need to open his eyes to recognize Akeno's voice, nor did her silent approach surprise him. Of all Rias's peerage, the Queen had proven most adept at the magical sensitivity exercises he had begun teaching them.
"The northwestern quadrant shows increasing instability," he responded, opening his eyes to acknowledge her presence. "The patterns are becoming more pronounced."
Akeno moved to stand beside him, her school uniform replaced by her shrine maiden attire—a choice Solomon had noticed she made when engaging in serious magical work.
"I felt it too," she confirmed. "Like static before a storm."
Solomon nodded, appreciating her analogy. "An apt description."
A comfortable silence fell between them as they both observed the town below. In the week since his revelation to the Occult Research Club, a surprising rhythm had developed. Each member of Rias's peerage had responded differently to his guidance—Kiba with determined focus, Asia with earnest dedication, Issei with erratic but impressive bursts of progress, Koneko with quiet observation punctuated by occasional, startlingly insightful questions.
But it was Akeno who had adapted most seamlessly to his instruction, her natural talents blossoming under his guidance. Her affinity for lightning magic resonated with aspects of his own power in ways that seemed to surprise her as much as it intrigued him.
"May I ask you something, Solomon?" Her use of his name without title still carried a hint of hesitation, though he had insisted on informality during their training sessions.
"Of course."
"You mentioned you were the King of Magic in your world." Her violet eyes studied him with careful curiosity. "What does that actually mean? Were you simply the most powerful magician, or was it something more... fundamental?"
Solomon considered her question, appreciating its depth. "Both, in a sense. I held authority over the foundation of magical systems themselves—what some in your world might call 'root access' to reality's code."
"That's..." Akeno's voice faltered.
"Difficult to comprehend," he finished for her. "The magical structure of this world operates differently. Here, power is often tied to lineage, sacred artifacts, or contracts with higher beings. In my world, magic was more... democratic in its basic form, though certainly not in its mastery."
"And you mastered it beyond anyone else," she concluded.
"I was granted mastery," he corrected gently. "A distinction that proved important in the end."
Akeno turned to face him fully. "You speak as if your story ended badly."
"All stories end, Akeno," he replied. "The question is whether they end with meaning."
A shadow passed over her features—his words had touched something personal. Before she could respond, however, a subtle shift in the magical atmosphere drew both their attention toward the forest that bordered the school grounds.
"Do you feel that?" she asked, tension entering her voice.
"Yes." Solomon's expression grew focused. "It's accelerating more rapidly than I anticipated."
Without another word, Akeno summoned her communication circle. "Rias, we have activity at the northern perimeter. Solomon confirms it's related to our anomalies."
"We're on our way," came the immediate response in Rias's voice. "Do not engage until we arrive."
"Understood." As Akeno dismissed the circle, she turned to find Solomon already moving toward the roof's edge. "What are you doing?"
"Time is a factor," he replied simply. "You should wait for Rias and the others."
Lightning crackled around Akeno's fingertips. "With all due respect, Solomon, if you're going, I'm going. I'm not letting you face an unknown threat alone."
He regarded her for a moment, seeing the determination beneath her composed exterior. "Very well. But stay behind me. What we're sensing may not respond to conventional magical attacks."
Her devil wings manifested in a flourish of black feathers. "After you, then."
Solomon stepped off the roof's edge, descending not with wings but with a controlled flow of magical energy that seemed to cradle him. Akeno followed, her flight naturally synchronizing with his descent.
They landed at the forest's edge, where the magical disturbance pulsed in waves of increasing intensity. The trees ahead seemed to bend and distort, not physically but perceptually, as if reality itself was becoming fluid.
"It's a breach," Solomon stated grimly. "A thinning of the dimensional walls."
"Like a portal?" Akeno asked, moving to stand beside him despite his earlier instruction.
"More primitive. Less directed." His eyes narrowed. "Step back, please."
This time she complied, recognizing the authority in his voice. Solomon extended a hand toward the distortion, palm facing outward. Ancient symbols—neither Hebrew nor any language Akeno recognized—began to glow on his skin, spiraling outward from his fingertips and across his exposed forearm.
"Restoration of boundaries," he intoned, his voice carrying a resonance that seemed to vibrate through the air itself. "Maintenance of separation between what is and what should not be."
The symbols flowed from his skin like liquid light, forming a geometric pattern in the air before him. As they connected, the distortion seemed to recoil, rippling violently before beginning to contract.
But then, without warning, a tendril of darkness shot from the center of the distortion, moving too quickly for either of them to react. It struck Solomon in the chest, not as a physical blow but as some form of energy transfer—a connection established.
Solomon's eyes widened in genuine surprise. "Impossible," he whispered.
The tendril pulsed once, then dissipated, along with the distortion itself. Solomon remained standing, though Akeno noticed a slight tension in his posture that hadn't been there before.
"Solomon?" she moved to his side, concern evident in her voice. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
"Not injured," he assured her, though his expression remained troubled. "But something... unexpected occurred."
Before he could elaborate, the air behind them shimmered as a teleportation circle formed. Rias emerged first, followed closely by the rest of her peerage, all in battle stance.
"What happened?" Rias demanded, scanning the area for threats. "We felt a massive surge and then... nothing."
"Solomon contained it," Akeno explained, her eyes still fixed on him with concern. "But something went wrong at the end."
"Not wrong," Solomon corrected thoughtfully. "Revelatory." He turned to face the group. "The distortion recognized me."
A confused silence followed his statement.
"Recognized you?" Kiba repeated carefully. "You mean it was sentient?"
"Not exactly. Think of it as a program recognizing a compatible operating system." Solomon's brow furrowed in concentration. "It's as I feared—these anomalies are indeed connected to my presence here, but not in the way I had theorized."
"Are you saying you're causing them?" Issei asked bluntly.
"No," Solomon shook his head. "I'm saying they're responding to me. There's a difference—an important one."
Rias stepped forward. "Explain, please."
"These are not random dimensional fluctuations," Solomon stated. "They're probes—searchers. They've been seeking something specific, and now they've found it."
"You," Koneko concluded softly.
"Yes." Solomon's gaze grew distant. "Which means we now face a much more specific threat than I had anticipated."
"Which is?" Rias prompted.
Solomon was silent for a moment before answering. "In my world, I once confronted entities that existed beyond the conventional boundaries of time and space—beings that sought to remake reality according to their own design. I believed I had defeated them completely, but it seems echoes of that conflict have followed me here."
"Great," Issei muttered. "So we're dealing with some kind of interdimensional evil that's got a grudge against you?"
"Not exactly a grudge," Solomon corrected. "More of an... unfulfilled purpose. Think of them as abandoned programs still trying to execute their final commands."
Asia stepped forward hesitantly. "Can they be stopped?"
"Yes," Solomon assured her with a gentle smile. "Now that I understand what we're facing, I can create more effective countermeasures." He turned to Rias. "But I'll need resources—specific magical components that don't exist in your world in the same form as mine."
"Make a list," Rias said decisively. "The Gremory family will provide whatever you need."
Solomon nodded gratefully, but Akeno noticed his attention seemed divided, as if he were listening to something none of them could hear.
"Solomon?" she questioned softly.
He refocused on the present moment. "My apologies. The contact was... more informative than I expected." To the group, he continued: "We should return to the club room. I need to document what I've learned while it's still fresh."
As they began to move back toward the school buildings, Akeno fell into step beside Solomon, keeping her voice low. "There's something you're not telling us."
It wasn't a question but a statement of fact—one that earned her a measured look from Solomon.
"You're very perceptive, Akeno Himejima."
"You touched something back there," she pressed. "Something familiar to you. I saw it in your eyes."
Solomon was silent for several steps before responding. "In my final moments in my original world, I made a choice that affected the fundamental structure of magic itself. What touched me tonight carried echoes of that decision—consequences I never lived to witness."
"And they followed you here," she concluded.
"So it seems."
They walked in silence for a moment before Akeno spoke again, her voice carefully neutral. "You know, when you first arrived, Rias was convinced you were some kind of threat sent to test her. Sirzechs had instructed her to watch you, but she was already planning contingencies if you proved dangerous."
Solomon's 's lips curved in a faint smile. "And now?"
"Now she's fascinated by you," Akeno admitted. "We all are. You're unlike anyone we've encountered."
"I'm simply a man out of place," he replied.
Akeno's melodic laugh held a hint of genuine amusement. "A man out of place who just contained a dimensional breach with a gesture. You don't give yourself enough credit, Solomon."
"Or perhaps," he suggested quietly, "I give it precisely where it belongs."
Their eyes met briefly—a moment of understanding passing between them. Akeno quickly looked away, uncharacteristically unsettled by the connection.
As they approached the old schoolhouse, Solomon paused, causing Akeno to stop beside him. The others continued ahead, engaged in their own discussions about what had occurred.
"Akeno," he said softly. "The energy we encountered tonight... it responded particularly to you as well."
Her eyes widened slightly. "What do you mean?"
"Your dual nature—the confluence of holy and fallen power within you—created a resonance with the distortion." His gaze was gentle but direct. "In the days ahead, you may find your abilities fluctuating, perhaps even evolving in unexpected ways."
"Is that dangerous?" she asked, a hint of old fear creeping into her voice.
"Not with proper guidance," he assured her. "But it would be wise for us to work more closely on your magical control."
Akeno studied him for a long moment. "Private lessons, Professor?" she asked, her teasing tone returning like a defensive shield.
"If necessary," he replied seriously, refusing to engage with her deflection. "Your power is extraordinary, Akeno. But it's divided against itself. That division makes you vulnerable to influences that seek instability."
The facade of playfulness fell away, leaving genuine vulnerability in its place. "You see it so clearly," she whispered. "My... brokenness."
"Not brokenness," Solomon corrected firmly. "Duality. Complexity. The shadow and light that make you whole."
Her breath caught audibly. No one—not even Rias—had ever framed her hybrid nature as anything but a burden or a weapon. Never as an integral part of her wholeness.
"I... should catch up with the others," she said finally, unable to maintain his gaze any longer.
Solomon nodded. "Of course."
As Akeno hurried ahead, she failed to notice the concerned expression that briefly crossed Solomon's features—or the subtle glow that momentarily appeared on his chest where the tendril of energy had touched him.
Chapter 4: The Silent Guardian
"Again."
Koneko's stoic expression revealed nothing as she squared off against the magical constructs Solomon had created. Five glowing orbs circled her, each pulsing with different magical signatures.
"Remember," Solomon instructed from where he stood at the edge of the training circle, "physical strength is only part of your capability. Feel the fluctuations in each construct's energy pattern before you strike."
The small Nekomata nodded once, her amber eyes narrowing in concentration. When the first orb darted toward her, she pivoted with surprising grace, striking it with precision rather than force. The construct shattered into particles of light.
"Good," Solomon acknowledged. "Now the remaining four, simultaneously."
Without warning, the constructs accelerated, attacking from different angles. Koneko moved with fluid efficiency, seeming to predict their movements a fraction of a second before they occurred. Within moments, all four had been neutralized.
"Your progress is impressive," Solomon noted as Koneko straightened, barely breathing hard despite the intensity of the exercise.
"It's easier now," she admitted quietly.
Solomon understood what went unsaid. For weeks, he had been working with each member of the peerage individually, focusing on their specific strengths and limitations. With Koneko, he had recognized immediately that her greatest constraint was self-imposed—her fear of her own Nekomata powers had created a reservoir of untapped potential.
Rather than pushing her to embrace those abilities before she was ready, Solomon had instead focused on helping her develop greater sensitivity to magical energy patterns. It was an approach that allowed her to expand her capabilities without directly confronting her fears.
"Would you like to continue, or should we end today's session?" he asked.
Koneko hesitated, then glanced around the empty training room. They were using a specialized chamber beneath the Occult Research Club building—one that Rias had reinforced with additional protective barriers after their encounter with the dimensional breach two weeks prior.
"One more exercise," she decided. "The harder one."
Solomon raised an eyebrow. "You're sure?"
She nodded firmly.
"Very well." With a gesture, he created a new construct—this one larger and more complex than the orbs. It resembled a translucent humanoid figure, its interior swirling with conflicting magical currents. "This opponent will adapt to your fighting style. Physical attacks alone won't be sufficient."
Koneko eyed the construct warily. "It's stronger than last time."
"Yes," Solomon confirmed. "Because you are stronger."
For a brief moment, something like gratitude flickered in the girl's usually impassive eyes. Then she settled into a fighting stance, focus returning.
The construct moved with unnatural speed, but Koneko tracked it effortlessly. Their exchange of blows was almost too fast to follow, each impact releasing small bursts of magical energy. For several minutes, they seemed evenly matched—until the construct suddenly changed tactics, releasing a wave of disruptive energy that knocked Koneko back several feet.
She landed in a crouch, a flicker of frustration crossing her features.
"It's adapting," Solomon observed calmly. "How will you respond?"
Koneko straightened slowly. For a moment, she stood perfectly still, eyes closed. When she opened them again, subtle changes had occurred—her pupils slightly elongated, her presence somehow more pronounced.
Without a word, she launched herself at the construct again, but this time, a faint white aura surrounded her limbs. Each strike carried not just physical force but a counter-frequency that disrupted the construct's cohesion. Within seconds, the magical opponent collapsed into dissolving particles.
Solomon nodded with quiet approval. "Excellent."
Koneko's features returned to normal as she relaxed her stance. "I didn't... lose control."
"You never were," Solomon replied. "You were in perfect harmony with your power."
A comfortable silence fell between them as Koneko absorbed his words. Of all Rias's peerage, she was the most reserved, often communicating more through silence than speech. Solomon respected this quality, never pushing for more interaction than she was comfortable giving.
"Professor," she finally said, her voice softer than usual. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"The others talk about you being a king in your world." Her amber eyes studied him with surprising intensity. "But you don't seem like a king."
"Oh?" Solomon's lips curved slightly. "And what should a king seem like, Koneko?"
She considered this carefully. "Proud. Distant. Focused on big things, not small details."
"Ah." Understanding crossed his features. "You're describing rulers you've known."
Koneko nodded slowly.
"Kingship takes many forms," Solomon explained gently. "Some rule through authority and distance. Others through connection and presence."
"Which were you?"
The directness of her question might have startled some, but Solomon appreciated her honesty. "I tried to be both, at different times," he admitted. "I learned, eventually, that true wisdom comes from seeing the smallest details—because they often reveal the greatest truths."
Koneko's gaze dropped to the floor, her voice becoming almost inaudible. "Someone once told me my power would make me lose myself... become a monster."
Solomon studied her quietly for a moment. "May I tell you something I learned, Koneko? Something that took me many years to understand?"
She nodded without looking up.
"Power does not corrupt," he said simply. "It reveals. Whatever is truly in your heart—compassion or cruelty, wisdom or foolishness—power simply allows it greater expression."
Her eyes lifted to meet his. "And if... if you're afraid of what's in your heart?"
"Then you examine it honestly, with courage," Solomon answered. "You've already shown remarkable control today—not because you feared your power, but because you respected it."
Something in his words seemed to reach her, breaking through layers of carefully maintained reserve. For an instant, vulnerability showed clearly on her face.
"Would..." She hesitated. "Would you help me? With the other training?"
Solomon understood immediately what she was asking—guidance in safely embracing her suppressed Nekomata abilities.
"It would be my honor," he replied with a gentle smile.
Their conversation was interrupted by the training room door opening. Kiba entered, his usual pleasant expression replaced by urgency.
"Solomon, Koneko—you're needed upstairs immediately. Rias has called an emergency meeting."
"What happened?" Koneko asked, already moving toward the door.
"Another breach," Kiba explained grimly. "But this time, something came through."
The atmosphere in the club room was tense as Solomon entered with Koneko and Kiba. Rias stood near her desk, expression grave as she consulted a magical projection displaying a map of Kuoh Town. Akeno was beside her, while Issei and Asia sat together on one of the sofas, the latter looking particularly anxious.
"Ah, there you are," Rias said, looking up as they entered. "We have a situation."
"So I hear," Solomon replied calmly. "Something crossed the boundary?"
"Yes, approximately thirty minutes ago." Rias gestured to the map, where a pulsing red dot marked a location in the city's commercial district. "We detected the energy signature immediately—it's consistent with the anomalies we've been tracking."
"But much stronger," Akeno added. "And stable, unlike the previous fluctuations."
Solomon studied the projection thoughtfully. "Has it taken physical form?"
"That's the strange part," Kiba interjected. "We've had familiar spirits monitoring the area, but they report nothing unusual—no visible entity, no destruction, nothing that would indicate an incursion."
"Yet the energy signature remains," Rias concluded. "Whatever came through is hiding its presence."
"Or assimilating," Solomon suggested quietly. All eyes turned to him. "These entities—if they're what I suspect—don't necessarily manifest as distinct beings. They can integrate with existing elements of this world."
"You mean like possession?" Issei asked, alarm evident in his voice.
"Not exactly. More like... corruption. Transformation of what already exists."
Asia's hand went to her mouth. "That sounds terrible."
"It is concerning," Solomon acknowledged. "But not unmanageable, now that we know what to look for."
"Which is?" Rias prompted.
"Dissonance," he explained. "Areas where the natural flow of magical energy is disrupted or redirected. People or objects behaving contrary to their essential nature."
Rias nodded decisively. "Then we need to investigate in person. We'll split into teams and—"
"Begging your pardon," a new voice interrupted as the club room door opened, "but I believe this falls under my jurisdiction as well."
The newcomer was a striking woman with long blue hair and eyes of matching color, dressed in an elegant suit that did little to hide her impressive figure. Power radiated from her in controlled waves—the unmistakable presence of a high-ranking devil.
"Lady Grayfia," Rias acknowledged, surprise evident in her tone. "I wasn't aware you were in Kuoh."
"I arrived an hour ago," Grayfia Lucifuge replied, her gaze moving directly to Solomon. "At Lord Sirzechs' request."
Solomon inclined his head respectfully. "Queen of Lucifer. Your reputation precedes you."
"As does yours, Professor Solomon," she returned coolly. "Though 'reputation' seems an inadequate term for the reports I've received."
The tension in the room shifted as everyone registered the potential implications of Grayfia's arrival. As Sirzechs' Queen and wife, her presence indicated the situation had escalated to the highest levels of devil authority.
"Is my brother concerned about the anomalies?" Rias asked carefully.
"Your brother," Grayfia replied, maintaining her professional demeanor, "is concerned about a great many things. Including the fact that dimensional breaches are occurring with increasing frequency around Kuoh, coinciding with the arrival of a being who claims to be from another universe entirely."
Her gaze never left Solomon as she spoke.
"I have been transparent about my origins," Solomon stated calmly.
"Yes, remarkably so," Grayfia agreed. "Which raises its own questions."
Akeno stepped forward slightly. "Lady Grayfia, Solomon has been instrumental in helping us understand and contain these anomalies. Without his guidance—"
"I'm not suggesting otherwise, Akeno," Grayfia interrupted, her tone softening slightly. "I'm simply here to assess the situation firsthand."
"And perhaps to extend an invitation," Solomon suggested, reading between the lines. "Lord Sirzechs wishes to speak with me directly."
A flicker of surprise crossed Grayfia's perfect composure. "Your perspicacity is not exaggerated, it seems."
"Wisdom begins with listening to what isn't said," he replied simply.
The hint of a smile touched Grayfia's lips before quickly vanishing. "Indeed." She turned to Rias. "Lord Sirzechs requests your presence as well, Lady Rias. This matter potentially affects all factions."
Rias nodded, though Solomon noted the slight tension in her posture—a reaction to being summoned by her brother rather than consulted as an equal.
"When are we expected?" she asked.
"Immediately, if possible," Grayfia replied. "The meeting will be held in the secure conference chamber beneath Lucifer Castle."
"A summit, then," Solomon observed. "Representatives from all Three Factions?"
"Yes," Grayfia confirmed. "Though I'm not at liberty to disclose all attendees."
Rias began issuing instructions to her peerage, but Grayfia raised a hand to interrupt.
"Forgive me, Lady Rias, but Lord Sirzechs specifically requested that your Queen accompany you as well."
Akeno blinked in surprise. "Me?"
"Yes. Given your... unique perspective on these events."
Solomon and Akeno exchanged a brief glance, both understanding the implication. Their work together on tracking the magical anomalies had given Akeno insights that might prove valuable at such a gathering.
"Of course," Akeno agreed. "I would be honored."
Rias turned to the rest of her peerage. "Kiba, you're in charge during our absence. Continue monitoring the situation but do not—I repeat, do not—approach the breach site without direct authorization from me."
"Understood," Kiba replied with a short bow.
Grayfia produced an ornate magical circle. "If you're ready?"
As Rias and Akeno moved to join her within the circle, Solomon paused to address the remaining members of the peerage.
"Koneko," he said quietly. "Remember what we discussed today. Trust yourself."
The white-haired girl nodded once, a look of understanding passing between them.
"Kiba, Issei, Asia," he continued. "Stay vigilant. These entities are drawn to power—particularly unconventional power. Your Sacred Gears may attract attention."
"We'll be careful," Kiba assured him.
With farewells exchanged, Solomon stepped into the teleportation circle beside Rias and Akeno. Grayfia activated the spell with a gesture, and the club room dissolved around them in a flash of crimson light.
Chapter 5: The Factions Gather
The teleportation chamber beneath Lucifer Castle materialized around them—a vast circular room lined with intricately carved obsidian pillars and illuminated by floating orbs of crimson light. Ancient magic pulsed through the very walls, speaking of power accumulated over thousands of years.
As the teleportation circle faded, Solomon observed their surroundings with quiet interest. Though he had visited many otherworldly realms in his original existence, the Underworld possessed a unique majesty—a realm built on pride and ambition, yet tempered by surprising beauty.
"This way," Grayfia instructed, leading them toward massive double doors emblazoned with the Lucifer crest. "The others are already assembled."
"My brother could have given us more notice," Rias muttered, smoothing her uniform with a gesture.
"Time is a luxury we may not have, Lady Rias," Grayfia replied without looking back. "The frequency of dimensional incursions has increased exponentially over the past forty-eight hours."
This information caught Solomon's attention. "There have been others beyond the one detected today?"
"Seven confirmed breaches," Grayfia confirmed, "though only the most recent produced a stable manifestation."
Solomon frowned thoughtfully. "The pattern is accelerating faster than I anticipated."
"Hence the urgency of this summit," Grayfia concluded as they reached the doors, which swung open at her approach.
The conference chamber beyond was imposing—a semicircular room with tiered seating arranged before a central speaking platform. The lighting was subdued, creating pools of shadow between the occupied areas. Solomon immediately noted the strategic arrangement: devils to the right, angels to the left, with fallen angels positioned in the center tiers.
Sirzechs Lucifer rose as they entered, his crimson hair and striking resemblance to Rias immediately identifying him. "Ah, excellent timing. Please join us."
As they moved forward, Solomon was aware of every eye in the chamber evaluating him. He recognized many of the gathered beings from his studies of this world's power structures: Michael, leader of the Angels, radiant even in his restraint; Azazel, Governor of the Fallen Angels, his casual posture belying the sharp intelligence in his eyes; Serafall Leviathan, another of the Four Great Satans, her cheerful appearance at odds with the immense power she contained.
And perhaps most surprisingly, in the farthest shadows of the chamber—a small figure with infinite darkness in her eyes. Ophis, the Ouroboros Dragon, Infinite Dragon God. Her presence suggested this gathering held even greater significance than he had initially assumed.
"Welcome, Professor Solomon," Sirzechs greeted him formally. "Thank you for joining us on such short notice."
"The matter warrants urgency," Solomon replied simply.
"Indeed it does," Azazel interjected, leaning forward with an interested grin. "Especially when the matter in question appears to be directly connected to you."
Solomon inclined his head slightly. "That connection is what I'm here to discuss."
"Then let us proceed," Michael suggested, his voice melodious and calm. "Lord Sirzechs has shared the information provided by Professor Solomon regarding these dimensional anomalies, but we would appreciate hearing directly from the source."
Sirzechs gestured toward the central platform. "If you would, Professor."
Solomon stepped forward, aware of Rias and Akeno taking seats in the front row of the devil section. With simple dignity, he addressed the assembled leaders.
"What you are witnessing," he began without preamble, "are echoes of a conflict from another reality—my original world. Entities that exist beyond conventional dimensional boundaries are attempting to establish a foothold in this universe."
"And they followed you here?" Serafall asked, her normally playful tone replaced by serious focus.
"Not exactly," Solomon clarified. "When I was... translated into this world, the fundamental patterns of my existence created ripples across the dimensional barriers. These entities detected those ripples and recognized a signature they had encountered before."
"In the conflict you mentioned," Michael concluded thoughtfully.
"Yes. In my world, I confronted forces that sought to rewrite the fundamental laws of reality itself." Solomon's voice remained measured, though the weight of memory was evident in his eyes. "I believed I had neutralized them completely, but it seems fragments of their consciousness survived—existing in the spaces between universes until they detected my presence here."
"And now they're coming through," Azazel mused. "Fascinating. But what exactly are they? Spirits? Gods? Something else entirely?"
"They are potential," Solomon answered after a thoughtful pause. "Formless until they interact with this world's elements. Think of them as... viral code, seeking to rewrite the program of reality."
A murmur ran through the assembled leaders.
"That sounds decidedly apocalyptic," Sirzechs observed with deceptive lightness.
"It is concerning," Solomon acknowledged, "but not unmanageable—not if we act decisively."
From the shadows where she had remained silent, Ophis finally spoke. "You are different," she stated simply, her childlike voice at odds with the ancient power it contained. "Not from here. Not... finished."
All eyes turned to the Dragon God, whose observations were rarely offered and never ignored.
"In what way 'not finished,' Lady Ophis?" Michael inquired carefully.
The diminutive figure tilted her head slightly, studying Solomon with infinite eyes. "His pattern. Incomplete. Seeking."
An uncomfortable silence fell over the chamber as the implications of her words settled. It was Rias who broke it, rising from her seat with a determined expression.
"Whatever Professor Solomon's nature, he has been nothing but forthcoming and helpful since his arrival," she stated firmly. "The fact that these entities have followed him is circumstantial, not causal. Without his knowledge, we would be facing these threats blindly."
"Well said, Rias Gremory," Azazel approved with a lazy smile. "Always one to defend those under your protection."
A faint flush colored Rias's cheeks, but she maintained her composure. "I simply believe in judging based on actions rather than origins."
"A commendable perspective," Michael agreed. "And one I share. The question before us is not Professor Solomon's nature, but how we should respond to these incursions."
Solomon nodded gratefully to Rias before addressing the gathering again. "I believe I can create a barrier that would prevent further breaches—essentially sealing the dimensional weak points these entities are exploiting."
"You can do this alone?" Serafall asked, skepticism evident in her tone.
"No," Solomon admitted. "The magical structure of this world differs from my own. I would need assistance—specifically, access to anchoring points where the various magical systems of your world intersect."
"You're talking about the ley line convergences," Azazel realized, his eyes lighting with intellectual interest. "The natural junctions where angelic, demonic, and draconic energies meet."
"Precisely."
Sirzechs leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "Those locations are among the most heavily guarded secrets of each faction. What you're proposing would require unprecedented cooperation."
"The alternative," Solomon countered calmly, "is to face increasingly powerful incursions until one succeeds in establishing a permanent foothold. At that point, containment becomes considerably more difficult."
The leaders exchanged glances, centuries of mistrust and political maneuvering creating a palpable tension in the air.
It was Michael who spoke first. "Heaven will provide access to our convergence points, provided adequate safeguards are established."
"The Grigori will cooperate as well," Azazel added with a shrug. "This sounds far more interesting than another tedious faction conflict."
All eyes turned to Sirzechs, who appeared deep in thought. Finally, he nodded. "The Devil Faction will participate, with conditions to be determined."
"A wise decision," Solomon acknowledged. "I can prepare the necessary ritual framework within three days."
"And in the meantime?" Serafall inquired. "These breaches continue to occur."
"We need a response team," Rias suggested, stepping forward to join Solomon on the platform. "A small group capable of containing incursions until the permanent barrier is established."
Sirzechs raised an eyebrow at his sister's boldness. "And I assume you're volunteering your peerage for this task?"
"They're already familiar with the energy signatures and have been training under Professor Solomon's guidance," she pointed out reasonably.
"They're also children by our standards," Serafall countered, though not unkindly.
"With respect, Lady Leviathan," Akeno interjected, rising to stand beside her King, "we may be young, but we have faced significant threats before. More importantly, we have something the more experienced members of each faction lack—direct experience with these specific anomalies."
Azazel chuckled. "She makes a good point. Besides, having the Boosted Gear on your response team isn't exactly a disadvantage."
"Containment, not engagement," Solomon clarified. "Until the barrier is complete, the priority should be preventing these entities from establishing deeper connections to your world."
After further discussion, a compromise was reached: Rias and her peerage would form the core of the response team, supplemented by representatives from each faction who would provide support and oversight. Solomon would coordinate their efforts while simultaneously preparing the dimensional barrier ritual.
As the meeting concluded and smaller groups formed to discuss logistics, Solomon found himself approached by an unexpected figure—Serafall Leviathan, who had shed her serious demeanor and now practically bounced toward him with a bright smile.
"So-tan!" she greeted him with inexplicable familiarity. "I've been dying to properly meet you!"
Solomon blinked, momentarily taken aback by her dramatic shift in behavior. "Lady Leviathan. The honor is mine."
"Oh, call me Serafall!" she insisted, twirling playfully. "Or Magical Girl Levia-tan, if you prefer!"
Despite her seemingly frivolous manner, Solomon could sense the careful observation behind her sparkling eyes. Serafall Leviathan was far more calculating than her persona suggested—a fact he respectfully acknowledged by treating her with complete seriousness.
"Serafall, then," he agreed with a slight bow. "How may I assist you?"
She leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "I've heard the most fascinating rumors about you, you know. They say you were a king who commanded seventy-two demon pillars in your world. Is that true?"
"I did once hold authority over such beings, yes," Solomon confirmed cautiously.
Her eyes widened with genuine interest. "That's amazing! In our world, the seventy-two pillars form the foundation of devil aristocracy. I wonder if there's a connection?"
Before Solomon could respond, Grayfia approached, her expression professionally neutral. "Lady Serafall, Lord Sirzechs requests your input on the security protocols for the convergence points."
"Duty calls!" Serafall sighed dramatically. "But this conversation isn't over, So-tan! I have soooo many questions for you!"
As she skipped away, Grayfia remained behind, studying Solomon with that same penetrating gaze he had noticed earlier.
"Lady Grayfia," he acknowledged.
"Your proposal is ambitious," she observed without preamble. "Accessing all convergence points simultaneously has never been attempted."
"Unprecedented threats require unprecedented measures," he replied simply.
"Indeed." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Though I find myself wondering about the long-term implications of such a barrier. Would it merely keep things out—or potentially keep things in?"
The question was pointed, revealing both her intelligence and her caution. Solomon appreciated both qualities.
"A valid concern," he acknowledged. "The barrier I propose is selective rather than absolute. It would prevent these specific entities from crossing over, while maintaining the natural flow of energies between dimensions."
Grayfia considered this, then nodded once. "I look forward to reviewing the specifics of your ritual framework." It was both acceptance and warning—she would be watching his work carefully.
"I welcome your expertise," Solomon assured her sincerely.
As she departed to join Sirzechs, Solomon felt a presence at his side. Akeno had approached silently, her expression troubled.
"That was Ophis," she said quietly. "The Infinite Dragon God. She never attends these gatherings."
"Her presence is significant," Solomon agreed.
"What did she mean when she said you were 'not finished'?" Akeno asked, concern evident in her voice.
Solomon was silent for a moment, weighing his response. "I suspect she perceives something about my translation to this world that even I don't fully understand."
"That's not very reassuring," Akeno observed dryly.
"No," he admitted. "But it is honest." He turned to face her directly. "Akeno, in the days ahead, the work we'll be doing will involve significant magical risk. If you have reservations—"
"I don't," she interrupted firmly. "Whatever these entities are, whatever they want with you—we'll face it together." A faint smile touched her lips. "After all, who else is going to help you navigate all these faction politics?"
Despite the gravity of their situation, Solomon found himself returning her smile with one of his own—a rare occurrence that seemed to momentarily startle her.
"Indeed. Your guidance has been invaluable."
A slight flush colored Akeno's cheeks before she composed herself. "Rias is signaling us. I believe we're about to receive our first official assignment as the 'Dimensional Response Team.'"
"A rather grandiose title," Solomon noted as they moved to join Rias and the others.
"Well, 'The Group Trying to Prevent Reality from Being Rewritten by Interdimensional Viruses' was a bit unwieldy for the paperwork," Akeno replied, her teasing tone a welcome moment of lightness.
As they rejoined the others, Solomon was acutely aware of the complex web of relationships and politics surrounding him. Devils who viewed him with suspicion, angels who regarded him with cautious hope, fallen angels intrigued by his potential—and at the center, a group of young devils who had, against all odds, begun to trust him.
The irony was not lost on him. In his original world, he had been a king set apart, burdened by divinity and duty. Here, stripped of his throne and divine gifts, he found himself more deeply connected to those around him than he had ever been as a ruler.
The question was whether those connections would be enough to face what was coming—because despite his calm assurances to the faction leaders, Solomon harbored a private concern that even he didn't fully understand what these incursions truly heralded.
Or why, since the encounter in the forest, he could sometimes hear whispers in a language he had not heard since his final moments in his original world—whispers that spoke of gardens, and kings, and the remaking of all things.
Chapter 6: The Priestess and the King
Rain fell in gentle sheets across Kuoh Town, transforming the streets into rivers of reflected neon from the late-night shops and restaurants. Most residents had retreated indoors, leaving the cityscape eerily quiet save for the persistent patter of water against surfaces.
Akeno stood beneath the shelter of an ornate shrine gate, her shrine maiden attire replaced with a simple black raincoat that did little to conceal her distinctive figure. Her violet eyes were fixed on the small park across the street where Solomon worked methodically, seemingly unbothered by the downpour that had soaked him completely.
For two hours, he had been establishing a localized containment field around the site of the latest dimensional breach—a process that required precise manipulation of this world's magical currents. Akeno had offered her assistance, but Solomon had gently suggested she maintain a perimeter instead, ensuring no curious humans wandered too close.
In truth, there was little risk of interruption on such a miserable night. Yet she remained vigilant, using the task as an excuse to observe him unnoticed.
There was something mesmerizing about watching Solomon work. Unlike devil magic with its flamboyant circles and dramatic gestures, or angel magic with its brilliant light and harmonics, Solomon's power manifested with subtle elegance—threads of golden energy so fine they were barely visible, weaving complex patterns that somehow altered reality itself.
More fascinating still was his absolute focus. Rain plastered his hair to his face and soaked his clothing, yet he showed no discomfort, no irritation—only serene concentration on the task at hand.
"You're staring."
The voice beside her made Akeno start. Koneko had appeared silently beneath the shrine gate, a small umbrella in one hand and a bag from a local convenience store in the other.
"I'm monitoring," Akeno corrected smoothly, recovering her composure. "It's my assignment."
Koneko's expression remained neutral, but a knowing look entered her amber eyes. "Right."
"What brings you here?" Akeno asked, changing the subject. "I thought you were working with Kiba on perimeter security at the school."
"Shift change," Koneko replied simply, offering the bag. "Brought food. For both of you."
The thoughtful gesture was typical of Koneko, who often expressed care through such practical considerations rather than words. Akeno accepted the bag with a grateful smile.
"Thank you. Has there been any word from Rias?"
"Still at the meeting with Sirzechs," Koneko confirmed. "Planning the convergence point access."
Their conversation was interrupted as Solomon finally straightened, the complex web of energy he had been creating pulsing once before settling into an invisible but palpable barrier around the park. He turned toward them, acknowledging their presence with a nod before approaching.
"Containment complete," he announced as he joined them beneath the shelter of the gate. "This location is secure for now."
"You're drenched," Akeno observed, reaching into the bag Koneko had brought and extracting a small towel. She offered it to him with a teasing smile. "Though I must say, the wet look suits you, Professor."
Solomon accepted the towel with a small nod of thanks, either missing or choosing to ignore her flirtation—something that never failed to both frustrate and intrigue Akeno. Most men reacted predictably to her teasing, either with embarrassment or eagerness. Solomon's consistent nonreaction was a novel experience.
"Koneko brought food," she continued, holding up the bag. "We should find somewhere dry to eat."
"There's a tearoom around the corner," Koneko suggested. "Open late."
Solomon glanced back at the park, now encircled by his invisible barrier. "Yes, that would be acceptable. The containment field will hold."
As they walked together through the rain-sl