As they gently pulled away from their embrace, Arthur looked at his mother with a thoughtful expression.
He was hesitant to say something but too curious to hold back.
"Mom… can I ask you something else?"
His mother, still seated beside him, tilted her head with a soft smile.
"Of course, sweetheart."
Arthur looked down briefly, then glanced back at her.
"That princess you talked about, the one from a noble lineage. You said she came from a line of kings. What exactly was she a princess of?"
The mother smiled wider, pleased that he had picked up on that detail.
She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
"Well… she is a descendant of a king who once ruled over much of Europe. That king in particular is remembered for his iconic sword and his chivalrous, noble heart."
Arthur stared at her.
His mind clicked through every bit of historical and mythical knowledge he has, especially now that those myths might be more real than fiction.
There was really only one name that made sense, a man with a sword so legendary that stories of it still echoed in modern times.
After a long pause, his eyes widened in realization.
He looked at her like she'd just casually said the sky was green.
"Wait… is it… King Arthur?"
His mother clapped her hands softly, a quiet laugh escaping her lips.
"Correct. Took you long enough."
Arthur slumped back a little, stunned.
"You're telling me… I'm related to King Arthur? The Round Table guy? The Excalibur guy?"
She chuckled and gave him a playful nudge.
"Well, the stories weren't that far off."
Arthur felt the weight of that information hit him all at once.
His eyes drifted to the photo still resting in his lap, then to his own hands, then to the faint light coming through the curtains.
(So let me get this straight… my mom's from a royal bloodline connected to King Arthur, and possibly Morgan le Fay too, right? And my dad is Sirzechs Lucifer, one of the Four Great Satans and basically a demonic nuke in a three-piece suit. Not only that, I might also be the next wielder of one of the Thirteen Longinus, the same one Issei Hyoudou had back in the original story.)
He slouched forward and rested his face in his hands, groaning softly.
(What kind of God or ROB decides to give someone a busted existence like this? Not that I mind but...)
His mother gave him a puzzled look, not catching his muttering.
"Did you say something, honey?"
Arthur looked up with the deadpan face of someone mentally spiraling.
"No. Just thinking about how I'm definitely going to need therapy in the future."
She laughed again, totally unaware of whatever is going on in her son's head.
Arthur sat at the edge of the bed, still reeling a little from everything he'd just learned, but curiosity still bubbled back to the surface.
He glanced sideways at his mother, who was tidying up the photo and placing it back between the pages of her Bible.
"Mom, can I ask one more thing?"
His mother paused, then looked at him with a small smile.
"You're on a roll today. Go ahead, sweetheart."
"You mentioned earlier that I'm related to King Arthur, right? Well… doesn't the tale of King Arthur mention something about a red dragon?"
The smile on her face didn't fade, but her eyes sharpened with interest.
"Yes, it does. You're talking about Y Ddraig Goch, the Red Dragon of Wales."
Arthur nodded.
"Yeah, that's the one."
His mother sat down again, folding her hands in her lap as she began explaining.
"Y Ddraig Goch… also known as Ddraig. He's not just a mythical symbol from an old tale. He's one of the Two Heavenly Dragons, rivals locked in an eternal battle. His opposite is Albion Gwiber, the White Dragon Emperor. Their clash was so destructive that during the Great War, the one between Pure Angels, Fallen Angels, and Devils, the Three Factions actually formed a temporary truce just to stop them. It took nearly all of their combined forces just to bring the fight to a halt. In the end, the dragons were sealed. Now, both are imprisoned in Longinus-class Sacred Gears. Ddraig in the Boosted Gear, and Albion in the Divine Dividing."
Arthur absorbed the information carefully, nodding along.
He already knew about Sacred Gears and Longinus, his mother made sure to teach him the basics, but hearing the full context himself made it hit differently.
His mother tilted her head.
"Why do you ask, sweetheart?"
Arthur hesitated. He looked away for a moment, but said.
"…I had a dream last night. Kinda felt like more than a dream, actually."
Her smile faded ever so slightly.
"What kind of dream?"
"I was in a place that looked like Hell. The sky was red, it rained ash, there were flames and ruins everywhere. Then… this huge shadow appeared. Wings, scales, a dragon's head. It roared and everything shook."
He rubbed his ear reflexively.
"Then it came close and stared straight at me. Red scales and glowing eyes."
His mother blinked at that, clearly trying not to laugh at the description, but the worry in her expression deepened.
Arthur continued.
"He said I was the most interesting host he's ever had. Mentioned my two bloodlines, then I woke up."
She stared at him for a long second, her hands folded tightly.
"You're absolutely sure that's what you saw?"
She asked carefully.
Arthur nods.
"Yeah. I'm sure."
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
"What did he look like?"
Arthur raised a brow but complied.
"A great red dragon. European-like, has red scales, golden spikes, green eyes, and a voice that sounded like a constipated ogre."
That last line earned a small sigh, but she didn't smile.
Instead, she stood up and gently smoothed her dress.
"I see..."
She said quietly.
"Alright then. Why don't you continue your sword training for today, sweetie?"
Arthur tilted his head.
"Wait, that's it? You looked like you were concern about something earlier."
She looked over her shoulder and smile.
"I'm fine. I promise. Just… let me think for a bit, okay?"
Arthur didn't quite buy it, but he nodded anyway and left the room, grabbing his practice sword from the hallway.
Soon, he was in the backyard, going through stances and forms like muscle memory.
From her bedroom window, his mother watched him quietly, eyes narrowed in deep thought.
(Could it really be possible…?)
She turned away from the window and walked to the old desk in the corner of the room.
From the top drawer, she pulled out an old Nokia phone, one she hadn't used in years.
Her fingers hovered over the keypad for a second before she began dialing.
The line rang only once before clicking.
A calm, mature voice answered.
"Hello?"
She exhaled slowly.
"Brother… it's me. Artoria. We need to talk."
DxD
Arthur opened his eyes, the world around him changed again.
The skies above burned crimson, ash fell like snow, and the air carried the scent of scorched earth.
Flames licked the cracked and broken ruins of whatever this world once was.
Arthur stood still in the middle of it all, hands by his side as he quietly took in his surroundings.
"I'm back."
He muttered to himself.
A deep voice echoed through the smoke behind him.
"So you've returned."
Arthur spun around and the towering figure emerged slowly, massive wings folding as it stepped closer with deliberate weight.
From within the smoke, the Red Dragon Emperor revealed himself.
Ddraig looked down, those glowing green eyes locked onto Arthur.
"You're calmer now. Not trembling like the last time."
Arthur gave a small shrug, then smiled faintly.
"Yeah, I owe that to my mom. She told me everything. About me. About… you."
Ddraig nodded solemnly, smoke curling out from his nostrils.
"Then you know who you are."
Arthur looked up at him and nodded.
"Half human, half devil. Descendant of King Arthur and Morgan le Fay. Son of Sirzechs Lucifer. Host of the Red Dragon Emperor."
He paused.
"Kind of a lot to take in."
The dragon let out a low hum that shook the air.
"It is. But you are handling it better than most would."
Arthur gave a short laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Well… I've got a question for you, Ddraig."
"Ask."
Ddraig said, crouching slightly so that his massive head was closer.
Arthur looked up at him and asked cautiously.
"Can you read my mind?"
Ddraig blinked once, slowly.
"I can… but only with your permission. I cannot force my way into your thoughts without consent. Such is the nature of the bond between the host and the Longinus."
Arthur exhaled quietly, relieved.
(Good. My past memories are still safe… for now.)
"Got it. Just wanted to be sure."
Arthur said aloud.
Ddraig's gaze sharpened slightly, but he said nothing about the strange pause in Arthur's reaction.
Instead, he spoke plainly.
"Now that you are here, we should discuss your situation."
Arthur nodded.
"Right."
Ddraig spread his wings and looked up at the storming skies.
"You possess the Longinus Sacred Gear known as the Boosted Gear. That makes you a target, not only to the entire supernatural community, but also to one specific individual. Your destiny will soon bring you into conflict with the wielder of Divine Dividing, the White Dragon Emperor."
Arthur felt a chill crawl down his back despite the heat around him.
(Vali Lucifer… That means I'll really have to fight him someday. No power of friendship, no anime plot armor. This is real life now. And knowing Vali… he won't hold back.)
He nodded, face serious.
"Understood."
A moment of silence passed before Arthur looked down at his hands.
"So… should I summon my Sacred Gear now? Might be better to get used to it early."
Ddraig tilted his head, impressed.
"That is a wise decision, boy. The sooner you become familiar with your power, the greater your chances of survival."
Arthur closed his eyes and took a slow breath.
"So how do I do it?"
"Simple. Just focus on the strongest thing you can imagine. Something that fills you with confidence and purpose. Let it flow through you. That will draw the Boosted Gear forth."
Arthur nodded again.
"Duly noted."
And with that, he left the hellscape.
DxD
The warm breeze rustled the branches above as Arthur stirred awake beneath the backyard apple tree.
The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting shifting patterns on his face as he slowly opened his eyes.
He blinked a few times, sat up, and stretched with a loud yawn.
"Man, that was something else."
He muttered to himself as he rubbed his eyes.
After a moment, he stood up and looked at his left arm with focused determination.
He clenched his fist, then slowly relaxed it and rolled his shoulder.
"Alright… here goes nothing."
He stepped back, planted his feet firmly into the grass, and raised both hands in front of him.
His fingers curled into the familiar shape.
His eyes sharpened with determination.
"Ka… me… ha… me…"
He pulled his cupped hands to his side, focused everything he had, and yelled.
"HA!"
He thrust his hands forward.
A dramatic gust of wind blew across his face as he braced himself.
A single leaf fluttered by.
Arthur stood frozen for a solid minute, hands still out, eyes wide, sweat dripping down his cheek.
"Nothing? Seriously?"
He muttered as he stared at his arm.
His eye twitched in annoyance.
"Okay. Maybe not enough build-up."
He jumped back into stance.
"Alright… let's try this again."
He struck a new pose, this one serious, one fist forward like Saitama.
"Serious Punch!"
He punched the air.
A fly buzzed past, unimpressed.
Arthur gritted his teeth.
"Okay okay okay, maybe something more heroic."
He clenched both fists and shouted.
"Plus... ULTRA!"
Nothing.
"Domain Expansion!"
He tried again.
"Bankai!"
It failed.
"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"
Still nothing.
For the rest of the afternoon, Arthur cycled through every iconic anime move he could think of, even some obscure ones from shows barely anyone remembered.
His face became more and more annoyed with each attempt as his confidence eroded with every failure.
And through the kitchen window, barely holding in her giggles, Artoria watched her son's theatrics unfold like a live-action comedy skit.
Her hand trembled as she held her camera, carefully recording every silly pose, dramatic shout, and exasperated failure.
(Oh my sweet baby. I'm definitely saving this for my future daughters-in-law.)
She bit her lip, trying not to burst out laughing and give herself away.
Meanwhile, out in the yard, Arthur was now down on one knee, panting slightly.
"I have brought dishonor to all cultured people everywhere..."
He weeps in defeat.
DxD
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