Vash
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Chapter 53
🕑 Added 2025-06-23 12:44:31 +0000 UTCThe jet's engines hummed as we flew over the Alps.
I glanced across the cabin at Rossweisse, who was calmly reviewing what looked like mission files on her tablet. When I told her yesterday that I was flying to Europe to track down Kokabiel, She insisted on coming with me.
Should've known she'd do something like this.
"I'll have the jet prepared and file the appropriate flight plans."
She said, Then she was gone. I didn’t have time to refuse or talk to her about it.
I was checking over my inventory—Laevateinn secure, Senzu beans ready, armor on standby—when Rossweisse opened a metal case I hadn't seen her bring aboard.
"What's that?" I asked.
"Equipment," she said simply, like it was Tuesday.
I blinked. "I know that. I mean for what?"
She looked at me like I was stupid. "Of course I'm coming with you."
"What?" I sat up straighter. "No. Absolutely not."
Rossweisse didn't even glance up from the case as she checked what looked like combat gear.
"This isn't a business trip, Alessia," I said, watching her pull out what looked like a modified wand with intricate runic engravings
"I'm aware." She replied. "Which is why you need backup."
I stared at her for a moment, genuinely confused. This didn't make sense. She was a plant—a Norse operative placed in my company to monitor me.
"Why?"
She paused in her equipment check, those sharp eyes meeting mine directly. "Why what, Leon-sama?"
"Why are you doing this?" I gestured at the combat gear.. "This isn't what the Norse sent you for.”
"My assignment was to ensure your safety and provide assistance as needed." She counted off on her fingers. "In the past month alone, that's included managing supernatural corporate contracts, coordinating with multiple pantheons, and covering up a battle between you and one of the most powerful fallen angels in existence. Exactly which part of this falls outside those parameters?"
I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it. When she put it like that…
"And I don't want to explain to Lady Frigg why I let her friend's grandson get himself killed on a revenge quest." She closed the case with a soft click. "But more than that..."
She trailed off, looking almost uncomfortable with whatever she'd been about to say.
"More than that what?"
“Nothing.” She said she was looking all flustered.
The pilot's voice sounded over the intercom before I could think of a response. "Beginning descent to Milano Malpensa International. Landing in twenty-five minutes."
I looked out the window at Milan and the mountains surrounding it spread out below us. Somewhere beyond those mountains was the fallen angel who'd murdered my parents was finally within reach.
I glanced back at Rossweisse, who was calmly securing her equipment like she was preparing for just another business meeting.
“Fine. Suit yourself.”
The smile that spread across her face was the first I'd seen from her since she'd started working for me.
I reached into my inventory and pulled out three small green beans, Senzu Beans. If she was coming with me, better give her something in case.
I'd been preparing for this confrontation with Kokabiel for weeks now. The Workshop had been running constantly, manifesting batch after batch of these healing beans. I had dozens of them stored in my inventory
"Here," I said, holding them out to her. "Take these."
Rossweisse looked at the beans in my palm, then back at my face, her expression skeptical. "Leon-sama, what exactly am I looking at?"
"Emergency healing supplies," I said simply. "If you get wounded, eat one of these."
She didn’t reply but she looked skeptical as she took the beans, turning it over in her fingers. "These look like... regular beans."
"They're not. One bean can heal almost any injury that doesn't kill you outright. Broken bones, deep cuts, internal bleeding—it'll fix it all in an instant."
Rossweisse's eyes went wide, the smile dropping from her face completely. That's... that's impossible. Even the most powerful healing magic requires specific incantations, proper runic circles, and significant magical power."
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Only the Phenex clan's Phoenix Tears can do what you're describing, and those are incredibly rare. Even in Asgard, we might see a few vial every few decades."
“They are better than Phoenix Tears.” I smirked.
She stared at me, clearly shocked. "Better than Phoenix Tears? Do you understand what you're saying? A single vial of Phoenix Tears is worth more than most countries' annual budgets. Devils have started wars over less."
"Which is why you should keep them safe," I said, nodding at the beans in her hand. "Don't lose them. Use them when you need it."
Rossweisse looked down at the beans with new reverence, carefully tucking them into a small pouch on her belt. "Where did you get these? Even Lord Odin doesn't have access to healing items of this caliber."
"Does it matter?"
"Of course it matters!" She lowered her voice, leaning closer. "If these do what you claim, they're more valuable than..." She paused, seeming to recalculate the value in her head. "Well, almost anything in the Nine Realms."
I shrugged. "They're just something I picked up. Don't worry about it."
Her expression had shifted from skeptical to intensely curious. I could practically see the questions forming behind her eyes, but thankfully she kept them to herself.
"We should prepare for landing," she said instead, buckling her seatbelt. "I've arranged for a car to meet us at the private terminal.”
I nodded, turning back to the window as the plane banked gently, beginning its final approach. Milan sprawled beneath us, ancient and modern architecture blending together like a patchwork quilt.
=====
The private terminal at Milano Malpensa was exactly what you'd expect—sleek and discreet.
As we descended the stairs from the jet, four figures stood waiting beside a pair of black SUVs. Three men and one woman, all with the unnaturally perfect posture that marked trained exorcists.
"Church representatives," Rossweisse murmured.
I adjusted my cufflinks and continued down the steps. My eyes swept over them once, cataloging and dismissing them in the same glance.
The woman stepped forward as we reached the tarmac—tall, blonde.
"Mr. Mishima," she extended her hand. "I'm Sister Helena. Cardinal Benedetti sends his regards."
I looked at her outstretched hand for two seconds longer before she withdrew her hand, the slightest frown creasing her brow. "The Church maintains an interest in all supernatural activities within our jurisdiction. Particularly those involving fallen angels."
“I don't recall requesting a welcoming committee. And how did you know I was coming to Milan?"
"The same way Azazel knew where to find Kokabiel. Our intelligence networks occasionally... overlap."
"Are you suggesting the information Azazel gave me came from the Church?"
"Let's just say that certain intelligence was shared through appropriate channels."
Then she continued.
"We've learned of your purpose here in Northern Italy," Sister Helena continued, maintaining her professional tone despite my evident disinterest. "The Cardinal has authorized me to offer Church assistance in your... endeavor."
I stepped around her, heading toward our waiting car. My driver rushed to open the door.
"Not interested."
Sister Helena moved to intercept, placing herself between me and the vehicle. "Mr. Mishima, this isn't a casual offer. Kokabiel is—"
The temperature around us rose several degrees. The snow on the tarmac began to melt in a perfect circle around where I stood.
"Move." Just one word, but the exorcists' hands instantly drifted toward concealed weapons.
"The Church has been hunting Kokabiel for centuries," she persisted, though she took half a step back. "His activities fall under our purview as much as yours."
A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, lacking any warmth. "Centuries? And yet he still lives. How... effective you've been."
One of the men stepped forward from behind Sister Helena—younger, with dark hair and intense eyes.
"I've mapped his defenses, his followers, his patterns. Information you don't have." he said, his voice tight.
I turned my gaze toward him, saying nothing for several long seconds.
"Father Dante." He introduced himself.
Another second of silence stretched between us. "And why, Father Dante, should I care what you know?"
His jaw tightened. "Because I know about his new ally. They've been meeting at the monastery for weeks."
“And how do you know that? And what makes you think I care about his new ally.”
Father Dante's jaw tightened. "Few days ago, when Moretti revealed his true allegiance. Moretti and Kokabiel weren't alone when he slaughtered my brothers and sisters."
Sister Helena stepped forward again. "Mr. Mishima, we understand your... reservations about the Church." Her eyes flickered briefly to Rossweisse.
"We're not asking for your trust," Sister Helena continued. "Just cooperation. Father Dante knows the monastery's layout. He was supposed to lead the team that would infiltrate it before Moretti turned on them."
I remained silent, weighing my options. Rushing in blind when there were unknown variables would be foolish.
"How do I know I can trust you?" I asked Father Dante directly. "Your organization hasn't exactly been forthcoming."
Father Dante reached inside his jacket. The other exorcists tensed, but he slowly withdrew what appeared to be a worn leather wallet. He opened it, revealing a photo of five people in clerical attire, smiling at the camera.
"This was my team," he said quietly. "Maria. Thomas. Elijah. Rebecca." His finger traced each face with reverence before returning the photo to his pocket. "All dead because Father Moretti betrayed us. I'm the only survivor."
I glanced at Rossweisse, who gave me a nearly imperceptible nod.
"Fine. Just Father Dante," I said finally. "The rest of you stay behind."
Sister Helena began to protest. "That's not—"
"Those are my terms," I cut her off.
The air around us grew charged with tension as Sister Helena considered it.
Father Dante, however, was already moving toward our car.
"I accept your terms," he said simply.
Sister Helena shot him a warning look, which he ignored.
"Father Dante—" she began.
"They killed my entire team," he said, voice low but firm. "I watched Moretti smile as he slit Rebecca's throat. I don’t know why they spared me but I'm not missing this chance."
Sister Helena's lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval, but she didn't try to stop him. "Very well."
I turned and walked toward the car where Rossweisse was already holding the door open.
As Father Dante loaded his equipment—a duffel bag and what looked like sword cases—into the trunk.
Sister Helena approached me one last time.
"Mr. Mishima," she said, her voice pitched low, "Please be careful…Things are not simple as it seems.”
I nodded once. Then I slid into the car, Rossweisse following behind me.
Father Dante joined us moments later, settling into the seat across from us. His posture was rigid, his eyes constantly moving between us, nervous.
As the car pulled away from the airport, I could see Sister Helena making the sign of the cross through the tinted windows. Whether it was a blessing or a warning, I couldn't tell.
