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Chapter 268 ~ Night Crawl

The crimson glow of her eyes swept across them like a predator appraising prey.

And in that instant, the air itself turned cold.

Sweat trickled down their foreheads. Breaths hitched. A suffocating stillness fell over the devils of Kuoh. It wasn’t just fear—it was something deeper. Something primal. Their very souls recoiled.

Tsubaki moved first.

With the instinct born from years of discipline, she summoned her Sacred Gear—Mirror Alice—its polished, reflective surface shimmering to life as she stepped in front of Sona protectively. At the same time, Momo and Reya, Sona’s bishop pair, began chanting in unison, their hands weaving a defensive magic circle around their King.

Akeno reacted just as swiftly, lightning crackling as she formed a protective seal with a circle of her own.

Kiba stepped forward without hesitation, his Sacred Gear Sword Birth already forging a gleaming blade into existence. Koneko joined him, her stance wide, ready to strike.

But then it happened.

CRACK.

A flash of unseen magic surged through the air—silent, but devastating.

Tsubaki’s Mirror Alice shattered like fragile glass under a divine hammer. The magic circles conjured by Akeno, Momo, and Reya disintegrated in an instant—snuffed out as though they’d never existed.

“What?!”

“Kyaaa!”

“Ah!”

“Eh?!”

Gasps and startled cries filled the air as the defenders stumbled backward, clutching their arms or blinking in disbelief. All eyes turned toward the center of their formation—where power should have held strong, only absence remained.

“My sword…?” Kiba whispered.

He looked down at the weapon in his hands. Once brimming with mana, radiating edge and power—it was now just a hunk of dull steel. Lifeless. Empty.

A heavy silence followed. 

Slowly, ever so carefully, they all turned their gazes back towards the crimson-eyed demon before them. Every instinct screamed at them to run—to teleport away, to do anything to avoid meeting that gaze again.

But then something unexpected happened.

The womanʼs eyes widened—not in fury, nor hunger—but in confusion. For a heartbeat, her expression cracked the demonic calm. Her brows furrowed slightly, lips parting just enough to betray a sliver of surprise. She looked down, noticing the shattered fragments of Tsubakiʼs Sacred Gear, the vanishing spells, and the steel blade now lying lifeless at Kiba’s feet.

She turned her head to the side. And it was only then—only then—that they realized they weren’t alone.

Another presence.

A quiet one, but overwhelming all the same.

He had been there the whole time.

A tall man clad in a modern, immaculate double-breasted jet-black suit, every stitch of it flawless. Golden cufflinks glinted subtly under the fractured moonlight leaking in through the warehouse roof. And most striking of all—his face was obscured behind a dark purple mask or visor.

He stood by the crimson-eyed woman—close, yet not imposing. Slightly ahead of her, his stance quiet yet unmistakably protective. The air around him felt… off. Not in the way devils did. Not in the way gods did. Something deeper. Stranger. The very laws of magic around him bent, as though the world itself held its breath.

The moment his presence registered in their minds, the puzzle pieces clicked into place.

He was the reason their magic failed.

Not her.

She had looked just as surprised.

The woman’s eyes darted between the devils and the man at her side, lips pressing into a thin line as if uncertain how to proceed.

Meanwhile, none of the devils could speak.

Even Rias and Sona—heiresses trained from childhood to face all manner of supernatural danger—found their mouths dry, their voices caught in their throats.

“W-Who are you…? What are you doing here?” 

Rias was the first to speak.

Her lips parted, trying to summon the commanding tone befitting the next heiress of the Gremory clan, but what emerged was far from resolute.

Her questions—shaky, fragile, laced with barely-contained fear—fell from her mouth like a cracked bell tolling in a graveyard.

Behind her, the air quivered with desperate energy.

Sona and her peerage, along with Rias’s own, tried in vain to summon their magic—to call forth their sacred gears, to form even a flicker of a protective barrier—but the effort was like trying to breathe underwater. Each attempt ended in silence. The familiar warmth of their magical essence was gone, as if it had been robbed, stripped from their very souls.

Issei stared at his trembling hands, the telltale crimson of his Boosted Gear never appearing.

Kiba’s breath hitched as his summoned sword crumbled like rusted iron.

Tsubaki’s mirror—her pride and protection—had shattered into glass dust.

For the first time in their supernatural lives, born as creatures of magic and might, they felt naked—not in flesh, but in essence.

Then, the man moved.

It wasn’t a threatening motion. He didn’t raise a weapon or cast a spell. He merely shifted—one foot half a step forward, a slight tilt of his head, and his eyes, obscured behind a featureless mask, swept across them like a scythe across a field of wheat.

They felt it. Each of them.

The weight of his gaze, not physically heavy, but existentially. As if something far beyond their understanding was watching them—not as enemies, not even as threats, but as passing shadows in a far greater narrative.

And then he spoke.

A voice that was deep and smooth, dangerously enchanting. A voice that could make royalty kneel and demons fell into dazed awe.

“We will meet soon enough.”

[Gate]

A soundless rupture tore through the air behind him—a swirling, spiraling void of darkness that churned like a black storm, eating away at the space around it.

A portal.

No spell circle, no chant, no effort. Just the casual will of a being whose existence bent reality.

The man turned toward it, and the woman—the one with the crimson eyes like dying stars and a blade of black fire—followed closely, her gaze lingering on them a second longer, a glimmer of curiosity—or was it pity?—flickering within her irises.

Just before stepping fully into the rift, the man raised his gloved hand and made a casual, almost polite gesture.

And the world changed.

Every trace of violence—blood splatter on the walls, torn limbs, shattered bones, and grotesque remnants of the stray devil’s rampage—vanished.

The air, once thick with copper and rot, became sterile.

The concrete floor was swept clean, as if death had never occurred.

All that remained were the jet-black flames still devouring the stray’s crumbling corpse, its bones hissing as they blackened, until even ash dared not remain.

Then, the portal closed—no explosion, no crack of thunder, just a whisper, as if reality itself sighed in relief.

And silence took hold.

Rias, Sona, and the others stood frozen—staring not at the fire, but at nothing, trying to comprehend the void left behind by power so absolute, so untouchable, that it defied their every truth.

They were devils—beings born from power. And now, for the first time, they had witnessed something that made even devils feel small.

--------------------------------X--------------------------------

The swirling darkness of the [Gate] spell coalesced into a shimmering, obsidian vortex at the heart of their home’s courtyard.

As Yuuji and Erika stepped through, the chaotic remnants of the battle they left behind melted away, replaced by the tranquil embrace of their secluded haven.

The night air was cool and gentle, brushing against their skin like a lover’s sigh. The rhythmic chirping of night insects sang in harmony with the quiet babble of a koi pond nearby. In the distance, the soft, wooden clack of a shishi-odoshi—the traditional bamboo fountain—echoed intermittently, grounding the atmosphere in serenity.

Erikaʼs form shimmered with a faint glow as she returned to her human shape. Her divine regalia—the white and crimson battle kimono and hakama, still smoldering faintly with the residue of black flames—faded away, replaced by the casual tank top, light jacket, and hot pants she had worn before their mission.

Yuujiʼs sleek black double-breasted suit similarly dissolved into something more relaxed—an unbuttoned black collared shirt and tailored dark pants, comfortable yet refined. With a tired breath, they made their way through the house toward the conference room, where familiar auras awaited them like distant hearths of warmth.

“Welcome back.”

Lelouch greeted them first, voice smooth and calm, laced with a quiet curiosity.

He sat cross-legged at the low table with his usual composure, though he had traded his formal attire for something more laid-back—fitted dark slacks and a deep blue knit sweater. Beside him, Suzuki leaned against a large cushion, dressed in an open-button shirt and loose grey lounge pants, looking equally relaxed.

C.C. sat on Erika’s side of the table, her long mint hair unbound and flowing over her shoulders like silk. She wore the white pajama set Yuuji had once picked out for her, patterned with subtle green florals that matched her hair. She looked comfortable, almost sleepy, but the twinkle in her eyes said she had been waiting for them.

From the kitchen, the muffled sounds of cooking and the fragrant aroma of something savory drifted in—Aika and Albedo were preparing dinner, their voices occasionally breaking into playful laughter and teasing banter that echoed faintly down the hall.

Erika flopped down beside C.C. with a low groan, rubbing the back of her neck. Her crimson eyes rolled skyward in annoyance.

“Ugh… don’t even ask.”

Yuuji sighed heavily and settled beside Lelouch, letting the weight of the evening fall from his shoulders as he leaned back slightly.

“It was… terrible,” he muttered, voice low and dry with exasperation.

Their friends exchanged glances, subtle interest sparking in their eyes.

“What happened?” Suzuki asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lelouch leaned forward slightly, his analytical gaze sharpening.

“Was the stray no ordinary devil?”

Yuuji chuckled humorlessly. “Well, it’s evil. Terribly so.”

As the two sank into their cushions, the warm glow of the paper lanterns above cast long, flickering shadows on the walls. Slowly, they began recounting everything—The scene they came to, Erika’s methodical dissection of the stray devil, the unnatural magic-laced wounds, and the standoff with the Gremory and Sitri heiresses.

The room quieted as the tale unfolded, and even the distant laughter from the kitchen dimmed, as though the house itself leaned in to listen.

The silence persisted for a few moments, even after they finished recounting their tale. 

“...That was indeed terrible.” Lelouch couldn’t help but sigh, “But I wonder. Such a powerful stray devil never appeared in the anime.”

Yuuji shook his head. “I don’t understand either. Perhaps just like our worlds, there are differences in this world compared to the anime. We can’t simply rely on our knowledge of the anime alone.”

“Agreed.” Tatsuya nodded, “We must keep our vigilance.”

“Now now~ We’ll be working hard soon, but how about we relax for today~!”

Just then, the sound of soft footsteps echoed from the hallway, accompanied by the low rumble of wheels rolling across polished wooden floors.

Aika and Albedo emerged from the corridor, pushing a lacquered wooden trolley stacked high with a mouthwatering array of dishes. The warm, savory aroma wafted into the room before they even arrived, carrying with it the promise of comfort and satisfaction after a long, draining evening.

“Dinner’s ready~!” Aika chimed with a cheerful grin, her apron tied neatly over a casual blouse and shorts. Her golden hair was slightly tousled, a few strands sticking to her forehead from the heat of the kitchen.

Albedo, ever graceful, wore a calm and elegant smile as she began to plate the dishes with precision, dressed in a sleek black chef’s coat that contrasted her alabaster skin and long raven hair. “A little bit of East… and a little bit of West. I thought it fitting, considering the variety of palates in this household.”

With practiced ease, they arranged the food along the low table. Steaming bowls of miso soup with tofu and seaweed, grilled fish with daikon garnish, karaage fried chicken with lemon wedges, fluffy tamagoyaki, and steaming white rice nestled beside gleaming silver trays of seared steak with herb butter, creamy mashed potatoes, fresh garden salad with vinaigrette, and slices of garlic bread still hot from the oven.

Colorful sushi rolls adorned one platter, while another was stacked with rich, savory omurice topped with demi-glace. Small ceramic bowls filled with pickled vegetables, sauces, and garnishes added an extra layer of flavor and aesthetic charm.

“Whoa…” Erika’s eyes lit up as she leaned forward, her earlier fatigue giving way to pure delight. “Okay, now I feel a little better.”

Yuuji chuckled, a loving, proud smile adorning his face, “You two really outdid yourselves this time.”

Aika puffed out her chest proudly. “We always do.”

Albedo gave a soft laugh, kneeling beside Yuuji and gently nudging a bowl of rice toward him. “Eat well. You’ll need your strength soon.”

A curious choice of word, but Yuuji was enraptured by her loving smile and chose to kiss her lips instead of dissecting her words. 

The atmosphere warmed instantly, the tension from earlier melting into the quiet clink of dishes and the soothing smell of a well-prepared meal. The room, once thick with talk of demons and uncertain future, now glowed with the simple joy of shared food and familiar company.

After dinner, the lively buzz of conversation slowly dwindled as the group decided to part ways for the night, dividing into boys and girls as they made their way towards the grand bathhouse that stood a short distance from the main residence.

The building, constructed in the timeless elegance of traditional Japanese architecture, appeared modest from the outside. Sloping tiled roofs, wooden lattice doors, and paper lanterns swaying gently in the night breeze created a serene, almost nostalgic atmosphere. Yet once they stepped through the wide entrance, the true scale of the structure revealed itself.

Natural hot spring water flowed into a colossal outdoor bath at the heart of the complex, its surface rippling and shimmering under the starlit sky. Smooth, time-worn rocks dotted the crystal-clear waters, some forming islands to sit and relax upon. Around the open-air bath, the buildings encircled the waters like protective arms, their dark wood and soft lantern light blending seamlessly with the tranquil night.

No roofs covered the outdoor area — an intentional design choice to preserve the breathtaking view of the endless sky above. Instead, an intricate web of magical barriers enveloped the bathhouse: shimmering wards that shielded them from the elements, masked their presence, and repelled even the most curious of eyes.

More subtly, an invisible, thin magical barrier stretched across the hot spring, precisely bisecting the waters into two halves — one for the boys, one for the girls. It was undetectable to the eye, but firm and unyielding to those who touched it.

A short distance away, tucked among taller, whispering bamboo groves and natural rock formations, lay a more secluded bath — the mixed spring. Designed for their family to share in more private, relaxed moments together, it was currently empty, its steaming waters reflecting the moonlight like molten silver.

Inside the surrounding buildings, a labyrinth of luxurious baths, steam rooms, saunas, and relaxation lounges awaited exploration — each crafted with painstaking attention to comfort and beauty. But tonight, wearied from the day’s intense events, none of them had the energy to explore further.

Instead, they settled into the natural spring, allowing the warm, mineral-rich waters to ease the tension from their bodies. Laughter, soft chatter, and the occasional splash echoed gently into the night as they enjoyed simple, pleasant conversations under the canopy of stars.

Eventually, one by one, they rose from the waters, dried off, and donned comfortable yukata prepared for them.

With spirits soothed and bodies relaxed, they made their way back into the main house, slipping quietly into their respective rooms, the soft thud of sliding doors and the whisper of tatami mats marking the close of a long, eventful day.

Yuuji’s clothes shifted with a faint shimmer of magic, his formal black ensemble replaced by the comfortable, well-worn casuals he usually wore at home — a simple, soft black shirt and dark lounge pants.

The magic lantern that hung from the ceiling bathed the room in a soft, warm orange glow, casting gentle, flickering shadows across the traditional wooden floors and paper sliding doors. With a lazy, fluid wave of his hand, Yuuji willed the light to dim, and the room surrendered to a cozy, velvety darkness.

He slipped into his futon — though calling it that barely did it justice. It was a sprawling, king-sized bed layered with thick, cloud-like mattresses and the finest silken sheets, cocooning him in comfort the moment he settled down.

A deep, contented sigh escaped his lips as his body sank into the embrace of the futon. The stresses of the night — the battle, the encounter with the heiresses, the oppressive tension — slowly unwound from his muscles, replaced by a blissful, floating relaxation.

He closed his eyes, letting the heavy blanket of sleep slowly pull him downward, ready to drift into the sea of dreams for the first time in this new world.

But just before he could surrender completely to slumber, a familiar warmth brushed against his senses — a presence heʼd already come to know well.

Soft footsteps barely disturbed the air as someone approached his door. There was no need to guess; he knew instantly.

It was Aika.

And with her presence came a memory — a promise, made when he first welcomed her into his life here.

A promise to take her, to claim her body with love as fierce and overwhelming as the feelings she carried for him.

The corners of Yuuji’s lips curled slightly into a faint, knowing smile as he remained lying there, waiting. The quiet slide of the door, the whisper of bare feet across the floor.

“Fufu~ I’m here hubby~ It’s a reverse night crawl~”