High School DxD: The Lucifer's Devil Trigger — Chapter 49

“That Ryougi Shiki from the Ryougi Family—just tell them I want her. Bring her to me.”

Tohsaka Tokiomi didn’t ask for a reason. He simply lowered his head in a deep, impeccable bow. “Understood.”

Levi caught a glimpse of the magus’s perfectly subservient demeanor, gave a curt nod, and returned his attention to the stack of documents resting in his hands.

The intelligence gathered on the Five Great Clans and the Four Great Exorcist Families was complete enough for his current needs. More, the two specific targets he had tasked Tokiomi with tracking down—Aozaki Touko and Hyoudou Issei—had been successfully located. Their current addresses were clearly marked on the parchment, ready for him to visit whenever he pleased.

That only left the most volatile issue on the table: the youkai situation.

Levi paused. The moment his eyes scanned the first line of that particular report, his brow arched in genuine surprise.

Hagoromo Gitsune hadn’t just killed Nurarihyon’s son. She had completely slaughtered his grandson, Nura Rikuo, as well.

‘Wow,’Levi mused, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.’The protagonist of the original script, wiped out directly by Hagoromo Gitsune. So the plot has completely derailed.’

No wonder the ancient Nurarihyon, a youkai who had practically been on his deathbed, was suddenly raising such a massive storm. Hagoromo Gitsune had severed his entire bloodline. If the old man could still hold back and preach peace after that, it would have been a genuine miracle.

Hagoromo Gitsune’s ancient subordinates had all been unsealed in Kyoto. In retaliation, the Nura Clan had joined forces with the onmyouji of the Keikain Family, marching directly into Kyoto to wage an all-out war against her Hundred Demons.

Caught in the crossfire, the leader of the Kyoto youkai, Yasaka, had no choice but to drag her own forces into the meat grinder to protect her territory.

The three factions were currently tearing each other apart. At first, they had restricted their skirmishes to the dead of night to avoid the eyes of ordinary humans. Now, however, Kyoto was trapped in a localized eternal night. The combatants no longer cared who saw them. The entire city had been transformed into a blood-soaked battlefield, and the collateral damage was already spilling over into neighboring cities.

It made perfect sense why Tokiomi couldn’t handle the investigation there. Three massive factions, each boasting combat strength capable of rivaling a Devil King, were locked in a desperate death struggle.

“Alright, keep your hands out of the youkai mess,” Levi said, tossing the report onto the desk. He offered Tokiomi a calm smile. “That situation is far beyond your capabilities. We’ll go clean up that disaster ourselves later. But it seems you’ve accepted my other conditions…”

He let his voice drop, the temperature in the room seeming to cool as he locked eyes with the magus. “So, is your Tohsaka Family truly ready to deal with Devils?”

Tokiomi took a slow, measured breath. His gaze remained entirely unwavering. “It is my utmost honor.”

After concluding his business with Tokiomi, Levi took the time to properly settle his peerage within the Tohsaka estate.

The youkai war wasn’t going anywhere; no matter how fiercely the three factions ripped into one another, they were geographically locked to Kyoto. The other two matters on his agenda, however, required his immediate attention.

“Aozaki Touko and Hyoudou Issei…” Levi muttered, glancing at the addresses Tokiomi had provided. He stretched his arms overhead, his joints popping softly. “Since I have a rare moment of free time before I go collect them, I should finish my own preparations first.”

With a casual wave of his hand, Levi cast a dense, soundproof isolation barrier around his private quarters.

He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew two small glass vials. The dark crimson liquid inside them swirled sluggishly. One contained the blood of Vapula, extracted from Sairaorg Bael’s mother. The other held the blood of Bael, taken directly from Sairaorg himself. He had acquired both as payment during his earlier rescue operation.

The ritual circle was already inscribed on the floor. Without wasting another second, he stepped into the center and initiated the fusion.

The process was far smoother than he had anticipated. The moment the blood assimilated into his system, Levi looked down at his hands, his senses flaring as two entirely new magical properties rooted themselves into his demonic core.

“The blood of Bael brings the Power of Destruction. The blood of Vapula grants Mediumship.”

The Power of Destruction was notoriously lethal. If a Devil trained it to the absolute pinnacle—like Sirzechs Lucifer—they practically ceased to be a living creature. When that man activated his true form, he became nothing more than a compressed mass of pure, annihilating energy. You couldn’t even call him a Devil at that point; he was just a walking natural disaster wearing a human face.

‘If I don’t activate my Sin Devil Trigger, I can make do by channeling the Destruction through my Summoned Swords,’ Levi analyzed.

He then turned his focus inward, examining the Mediumship trait.

Unlike his more volatile powers, this ability—much like the Phenex clan’s immortality—was entirely passive and usable in his base state. Immortality had already erased his physical weak points, granting him an absurd regeneration factor. Mediumship was far more esoteric. It allowed him to communicate smoothly with flora and fauna, translating the whispers of beasts and the rustling of ancient trees into comprehensible speech.

And as a secondary consequence—

“Oh? My Observation Haki just spiked.”

Thanks to the sensory expansion granted by Vapula’s Mediumship, his Observation Haki had forcefully broken through its previous bottleneck. Before, he could only glimpse a few fleeting seconds into the future. Now, his precognitive range had stretched significantly, and he could vaguely feel his consciousness brushing against the legendary threshold of ‘listening to the voice of all things.’

He exhaled a long breath, tested the expanded sensory net for a brief moment, and then reeled his Haki back in.

“Super-speed, Vibration, Godspeed, Immortality, Freezing, Mediumship, and Destruction. Before I even realized it, I’ve already collected seven distinct bloodlines from the 72 Pillars.”

The glaring issue of losing his sanity the moment he activated his Sin Devil Trigger still lacked a perfect cure. Levi figured he might have to borrow Vali’s brute-force approach to the Juggernaut Drive—wait until his base parameters were monstrously high, and then physically suppress the feral instincts through sheer willpower.

That would require extensive, time-consuming field tests.

“However,” Levi murmured, tracing a finger over his own chest, “I did find a workaround for the infinite magic loop.”

The inspiration had come directly from Ophis. The Dragon God had been quietly tailing them from the shadows, and she had recently gone out of her way to demonstrate the operational principles behind her own concept of ‘Infinity.’ She had guided Levi, helping him locate the exact metaphysical node that tethered his soul’s source to his magic reserves.

Combining that revelation with the angelic secret arts hidden within the Key of Solomon and the ancient magical theorems of the Lucifer Clan, Levi had carved a highly complex, trigger-based ritual directly into his own magical pathways.

It lay dormant, designed to activate only the second he unleashed his Sin Devil Trigger.

Levi knew that the transformation itself was a permanent, constantly active state of being if left unchecked. But now, the moment he entered his Sin Devil Trigger, this new ritual allowed him to manually sever the connection line to his infinite source. He could cut it instantly, or set a mental timer to sever it after a specific duration.

In simple terms: he had finally installed an off-switch.

He could maintain the form for as long as he desired, and drop it the moment it became a liability. The only variable he still couldn’t control was whether his mind would remain entirely lucid while the trigger was pulled.

“There is one last thing…”

Levi reached into his spatial storage and pulled out the demonic gear, Beowulf.

He had been itching to experiment with this specific set of gauntlets and greaves, curious to see how they would react when paired with the angelic secret arts from the Key of Solomon. Sirzechs’s constant interference had forced him to delay the tests until now.

He had already run a few preliminary strikes. Once equipped, Beowulf passively infused every physical blow with a devastating layer of Light-attribute damage. To Levi, light was harmless. To any other Devil, it was concentrated, agonizing poison. The harder he punched, the more violently the light exploded outward. In a brawl against his own kind, Beowulf would likely prove more lethal than a legendary Holy Sword.

Levi wasn’t surprised that he could wield the gear. Beowulf was fundamentally a tool designed to manipulate light, used by Dante and Vergil in the past. Since his unique demonic constitution rendered him completely immune to Light-attribute attacks, there was no internal conflict.

“You just slip it on. It doesn’t require any grand technical mastery to punch someone.”

But when he had cross-referenced the gear’s output with the angelic secret arts detailed in the Key of Solomon, he stumbled upon a terrifying anomaly.

“This…”

Following a specific breathing cadence outlined in the ancient text, Levi raised his bare hand. He didn’t summon his demonic energy. Instead, he simply willed the ambient light in the room to gather.

A sharp, humming sound filled the air. A condensed, brilliant spear of pure light materialized directly in his palm.

If he had been wearing Beowulf, he would have credited the gauntlets. But his hands were entirely bare. He had manifested a weapon of holy light with effortless ease. The particles of light hovered around his fingers like perfectly disciplined soldiers awaiting a command.

The Key of Solomon explicitly stated that manipulating pure light without a Sacred Gear or angelic heritage was an impossibly complex feat. Yet, for Levi, it felt as natural as breathing. He only had to focus his intent, and the light obeyed, converging exactly where he dictated.

“…Could it be that I’m naturally cut out to be an angel?”

No.

Levi immediately crushed that ridiculous thought. He knew his own biology better than anyone. Manipulating light was a divine miracle that a Devil of this world absolutely should not possess.

He was a Devil. And not just any Devil—he was a pureblood of the Lucifer Clan. Within the hierarchy of the Underworld, his lineage was the absolute apex of demonic nobility.

Countless theories fired through his mind. As he stared at the glowing spear, he noticed a subtle, aggressive friction against his skin. The light was resting in his hand, yes, but the attack judgment—the inherent holy smite meant to eradicate demonic existence—was constantly triggering against his flesh.

It was just that his innate ability, Morning Star, was passively nullifying 100% of the holy damage before it could even singe his skin.

Levi let out a low chuckle, a wave of relief washing over him as the logic clicked into place.

“It’s not obeying me. The light absolutely despises the Lucifer bloodline. The moment I activated the angelic ritual, the ambient light rushed toward me with the sole intention of eradicating me on the spot.”

Because he was immune to the damage, he could simply trap the hostile light in a localized area and weaponize it against others. It was a brilliant, twisted loophole.

Satisfied with the conclusion, Levi closed his fist. The light spear shattered into harmless motes of dust. He unsummoned Beowulf, sending the gear back into his storage.

“Alright, my personal housekeeping is done. Next up, a little chat with Aozaki Touko. And then I’ll finally go check on Hyoudou Issei. It’s not like that idiot can run away.”

Elsewhere, inside a dimly lit, cluttered office, Aozaki Touko leaned far back in her leather chair. She closed her eyes behind her glasses and let out a long, dramatic sigh.

“Today is yet another day that is boring to the point of explosion.”

As a magus, she stood at the absolute pinnacle. Whether one measured by raw magical output, innate talent, or new research achievements, she was untouchable.

Grand.

That was the title the magical world had bestowed upon her. The Grand Magus, Aozaki Touko.

And yet…

“When it comes to finding actual amusement, I have absolutely zero talent,” she grumbled, kicking off the desk to send her chair spinning in a lazy circle. “Lately, happiness has been in short supply. And my income has been in even shorter supply. Ah, it’s so incredibly annoying. Yesterday was boring, and today is somehow worse.”

She spun around twice more like a restless cat before flopping forward, resting her cheek against the cold wood of her desk.

“Can’t something interesting happen for once?”

The moment the words left her mouth, she sighed again. The primary reason for her misery was boredom. The secondary reason was poverty.

She was completely, utterly broke.

Ever since her violent falling out with the Clock Tower, the lucrative royalties from her various magical and technological patents had been frozen. Her financial situation had been in a steady, agonizing freefall ever since. Usually, she could tolerate a lack of funds. But right now, the poverty was directly fueling her boredom.

“If I were flush with cash and could afford the materials for a large-scale magical operation, I would have definitely run off to Kyoto to get involved in that massive youkai war. But there’s no helping it. I’m bored because I have no commissions, and I’m poor because I have no commissions.”

She tapped her fingers against the desk in a rhythmic, agitated beat. “The youkai are tearing each other apart out there. Haven’t they considered hiring some outside mercenary help?”

Touko continued to mutter complaints to the empty room, her chair squeaking as she rocked back and forth.

Suddenly, her movements stopped dead.

The complaining ceased. Her posture stiffened. She slowly pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, her sharp gaze locking onto the empty space in the dead center of her office.

The ambient mana in the room was warping, gathering at a single, hyper-condensed point.

A complex, glowing blue magic circle slowly unfolded across her floorboards, illuminating the dusty room in a sapphire hue.

Recognizing the complex geometric patterns, Touko’s eyes narrowed.

“This is the crest of the House of Lucifuge…”

‘A high-ranking Devil is looking for me?’she thought, her muscles tensing as she prepared her defensive bounded fields.’Or is it some arrogant magus who signed a contract with a Devil, coming here to cause trouble?’

The magic circle flared. The resulting explosion of light was so intense that the very air inside the office trembled, rattling the glass of her windows.

When the blinding white light finally dissipated, two figures stood amidst the fading mana particles.

Leading the pair was a young man with dark hair, dressed in a sharp black trench coat. Standing half a step behind him was a silver-haired woman in an immaculate, traditional maid uniform—Grayfia Lucifuge, radiating an aura of chilling, excessive beauty.

The boy stepped forward, his expression perfectly calm.

“A pleasure to meet you, Aozaki Touko. I am a member of the House of Lucifer from the Underworld. Levi Lucifer. You can just call me Levi.”

The moment his introduction fell from his lips, a terrifying, suffocating wave of pure demonic magic power crashed down upon the room, heavy enough to make the very walls groan in submission.