DxD: Lost in Time

Hours turned into days, days into months, and months into years. Two years had passed since Hisashi was brought to the underworld.

The days blurred into one another, and he began to wonder if devils in this era were truly as menacing as Canon painted. It was a fleeting thought, one he quickly dismissed as a joke.

He was fortunate to have encountered Serafall, a member of the Anti-Satan faction. Though he had once hoped to find a way to heaven, it seemed his path was fated to cross the dark world of devils first.

His presence remained a closely guarded secret within the House of Sitri. Serafall had made certain of that, ensuring that no whispers of his abilities or existence left the castle walls.

The notion of being a hidden weapon, a tool for others, unsettled him. Yet, he accepted it as a necessary sacrifice for now.

The ornate halls of the Sitri castle stretched out endlessly, their pristine decor untouched by time. Hisashi stood at the end of one such hallway, his thoughts adrift. His heart was heavy, weighed down by guilt.

His contemplation was interrupted by soft, measured footsteps. He looked up, and there she was, the fiery orange-haired maid. Her hair, neatly tied into a bun, framed her calm, focused face.

Her piercing blue eyes met Hisashi's, exuding a quiet strength. She wore the traditional French maid's uniform, its pristine fabric contrasting sharply with the tension in the air.

Her gaze softened when it landed on him, sensing the inner conflict that he couldn't quite hide.

"I… I'm sorry," Hisashi murmured, his voice low but sincere. "I know I've said this a few times already, but–"

The maid, with a practiced grace, raised a hand to stop him, her expression a mixture of patience and understanding. "You've apologized enough, Master Hisashi." Her tone was calm and reassuring, yet firm. "What matters now is the path you choose to walk."

Hisashi looked into her eyes, feeling the weight of her words. Despite the lingering guilt, her presence was a balm to his troubled mind. 'To be honest, even though she is a devil it doesn't justfy choking her.'

He took a deep breath, but before he could speak again, a voice from behind him broke the silence.

Serafall appeared at the far end of the hallway, her ever-present exuberance tempered by a sense of quiet observation. She had been watching from a distance, her eyes thoughtful.

"Hisashi," she began, stepping forward with a slight tilt of her head. "I see you're still caught in your mind. You've made progress, but you're carrying too much weight."

Hisashi turned toward Serafall, her usual playful energy replaced by something more serious.

"I know how you feel," Serafall continued, her voice warm yet firm. "But there are others who depend on you now. Natsumi, for example." She gestured toward the distant training grounds, where Natsumi could be seen practicing her technique.

Hisashi's gaze followed her direction, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as he watched Natsumi.

---

Natsumi, clad in her training attire, was focused entirely on her movements. Sweat dotted her forehead as she concentrated on harnessing the power that had once seemed so elusive.

Serafall observed her carefully from a distance, a look of approval on her face. "She's making significant progress," Serafall commented, her voice carrying a mixture of pride and concern. "Though it still baffles me how her power seems so different from yours."

Hisashi nodded, still watching Natsumi. He could see her struggle, but he knew that with time, she would master the technique.

"Her control is impressive," he said quietly. "She's come a long way."

Serafall crossed her arms and sighed, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. "You don't give yourself enough credit, Hisashi. Your influence has been a factor in her growth, whether you realize it or not."

Hisashi didn't respond immediately. He was lost in thought, his mind now focused on Natsumi's perseverance and dedication. He could feel a sense of responsibility growing within him, not just for Natsumi's progress but for his own journey as well.

---

Natsumi's focus intensified as she dashed across the training hall, greenish light trailing behind her in the form of glowing footprints. Each step connected her to the ground beneath, a manifestation of her spiritual energy anchoring her movement. It was Bringer Light, a technique she had been striving to master for months.

Her breathing was heavy, and sweat clung to her skin, but her determination remained unwavering. She leapt forward again, the light flashing brighter with each motion, though it flickered at times

A sign of her imperfect control.

Serafall observed from a short distance, arms crossed as her curious eyes tracked Natsumi's every step. "She's improving faster than I expected," Serafall murmured to herself.

'Her movements are sharper, and the connection between her energy and the environment is stabilizing. If she keeps this up, she might rival Hisashi's speed one day, though their techniques are worlds apart.'

Hisashi's thoughts turned inward as he considered his own path. There was still so much to learn, so much power to master.

Yet, as the gentle reassurance of the maid and the quiet encouragement from Serafall lingered in his mind, he felt a renewed sense of determination.

"I'll keep pushing forward," he said, his voice more resolute. "For all of us."

Serafall smiled, her gaze softening. "That's the spirit."

---

The training grounds fell silent as the young man seated in the center of the room focused on his breathing.

Hisashi's meditative stance was calm, almost serene, yet the air around him seemed charged with a volatile energy, as if the calm was just a fragile surface hiding a storm.

He wore a white shirt with red sleeves and black, slightly baggy pants, paired with comfortable Japanese shoes. He had innovated the way casual clothes are worn in this castle, but only in here.

His golden hair fluttered faintly, moved by an unseen force, and his slightly narrowed red eyes burned with an intense passion. He let out a soft exhale, and a faint smirk played on his lips before fading into his usual calm expression.

"Take care of my body, Serafall-nee-chan," Hisashi said without opening his eyes, his tone a mix of seriousness and playful affection.

Serafall stood a short distance away, her arms crossed and her black hair flowing freely.

Her petite frame belied the immense strength she wielded, though the exasperation in her sigh softened her imposing demeanor.

"You keep pushing yourself like this, Hisashi, and you'll burn out," she said, a note of worry creeping into her otherwise steady voice. "The power you have now is already more than enough."

Hisashi's lips curved into another wry smirk before he spoke again, his eyes remaining closed. "What I have now is enough to survive. But what I need is the strength to dominate the battlefield. Believe me."

His words hung in the air, and Serafall's expression shifted, a flicker of unease passing through her eyes. Hisashi's unwavering determination was admirable, but the intensity of his focus on power sometimes felt unsettling.

"Do you even know how strong you would be if you succeed?" Serafall wondered aloud, her tone lighter, as if to mask her concern.

Hisashi's eyes opened slightly, the flames within them flickering with a deeper intensity. "That's what I intend to find out."

---

Serafall couldn't help but reflect on how much Hisashi had progressed in such a short time. When they first met, he had been at the sixth rank of the Qi Condensation stage. Now, he was at the ninth, inching ever closer to breaking into the next realm.

She had learned to decipher his cultivation system over time.

Every three ranks in his system equated to the devil power classes. Ranks one through three were equivalent to Low-class devils, four through six matched Mid-class devils, and seven through nine aligned with High-class devils.

Hisashi, sitting at the pinnacle of the ninth rank, was just a step away from reaching Ultimate-class power.

But there was one obstacle in his path: himself.

"You're trying too hard," Serafall said gently, breaking the silence. "Your obsession with control is holding you back. Maybe if you–"

"Nope," Hisashi interrupted with a popping sound, his voice firm but not unkind. "I can't afford to falter. Not now."

It's okay if I have the power to survive. It's even better if I can dominate the battlefield.

Serafall sighed, her gaze softening as she looked at him. He had changed, become more hardened, more driven–

'But he was still the same lovable Hisashi.'

---

Hisashi's mind began to drift as he delved deeper into his meditation. The training grounds faded from his perception, replaced by the frozen expanse of his mindscape.

The Frozen Lands stretched out before him, a desolate but strangely beautiful landscape of endless ice and snow. Hisashi's red eyes turned skyward, a hint of melancholy flickering in them before the cold resolve returned.

In the distance, a throne of ice stood tall, gleaming with an unnatural brilliance. Seated upon it was a figure whose eerie red eyes mirrored Hisashi's own. The figure rested its cheek against its left hand, the other hand gripping a sword casually.

"So," the figure drawled, a grin spreading across its face. "You ready for round seven hundred forty-six, or what?"

Hisashi said nothing, his expression unreadable.

The figure's grin widened as it leaned forward, a glint of mockery in its eyes. "Battling with you is somewhat fun. It'd be a shame if all that drive of yours just… vanished."

"If you put it that way," Hisashi replied coldly, "then I guess the choice isn't mine to make."

The figure laughed, a low and unsettling sound that echoed through the icy landscape. "That's right. As long as I'm here, there's no escape. So, let's make this interesting, shall we?"

Hisashi took a steadying breath, his resolve hardening as he stepped forward, ready to face the challenge once more.