At the moment, Akira still couldn't perform a True Name Release on his Noble Phantasm. But since Enkidu—Heaven's Chain—was a Noble Phantasm rooted in Gaia's will, he could still manipulate its shape and behavior freely.
"Hm? What's that? A second Sacred Gear?" Azazel's voice held a spark of interest.
Chains began manifesting all around him. Not the massive ones from earlier, but dozens of mid-sized golden chains, weaving through the air and surrounding the area like a net.
Azazel narrowed his eyes. "Oh?"
Only now did he realize it. He'd let his guard down.
The entire battlefield had become a trap—he had no escape.
In that instant, a massive chain surged forth, streaking toward Azazel like divine judgment. He raised his light spear to block it, but the moment they clashed, the weapon cracked and shattered under the sheer force of the blow.
The colossal chain struck Azazel's body head-on and slammed him into the ground, shaking the very earth. The impact left a crater wide and deep, dust rising in thick clouds.
Heaven's Chain was an Anti-Thaumaturgy Noble Phantasm—a divine restraint system born from Gaia's will, or more specifically, Arayashiki, the Counter Force of the planet. Within the Type-Moon world, this Noble Phantasm manifested as golden chains that judged and restrained those deemed threats to humanity or the world itself.
The more dangerous the target—the greater their destructive potential—the stronger the chains' binding force and destructive capability.
Even without activating its True Name, Heaven's Chain still retained its essence. As an extension of Gaia's will, it passed judgment impartially.
Akira dropped to one knee, gasping. His Balance Breaker was already gone. The crimson armor had vanished, and his body was bloodied and torn in multiple places.
Hairline cracks covered his limbs, and blood dripped steadily from his wounds. But even so, his feet remained firmly planted on the ground.
From beneath him, the energy of the earth flowed gently into his body. Slow and steady, but undeniably healing him from the inside.
As long as he stood on solid ground, Akira's connection to the earth allowed him to absorb its strength. His regenerative ability—when fully activated—was nearly peerless.
That was why he'd dared to gamble his life.
So long as he wasn't killed instantly, he could still recover.
Footsteps echoed through the dust and smoke.
From the crater, a figure emerged—tattered and dirt-streaked, but very much alive.
Azazel climbed out slowly, brushing off fragments of stone. His golden Fallen Dragon Armor was nearly destroyed. His clothes were ripped and barely clinging to his frame.
Yet despite the damage, his body showed almost no injuries.
"It looks like there's still a lot you need to work on," Azazel muttered, stretching his shoulders. "That was a solid attack, Red Dragon Emperor. The combination of your two Sacred Gears... impressive. Even I'll admit that."
He exhaled lightly. "But... the difference between us is still too vast. Boosted Gear may be the Sacred Gear capable of killing gods, but overcoming someone beyond your tier is never that simple."
He looked down at Akira, a smirk forming on his lips.
"Are you giving up now? If so, I might need to lower my expectations of you."
"Give up? As if," Akira replied, his breathing heavy. "You just happened to be born a few centuries earlier than me. Give me time, and I'll surpass you... Governor-General of the Fallen Angels."
Azazel laughed softly. "Confident, aren't we? Or is it arrogance?"
"I've earned the right to be arrogant."
Azazel's gaze softened for a moment. As a long-time researcher and enthusiast of Sacred Gears, he deeply understood the meaning behind their creation.
The God of the Old Testament had scattered these artifacts throughout humanity for a reason.
Because... within humans lies infinite potential. However small, however fragile—they could still perform miracles when pushed into a corner.
Sacred Gears ran on willpower. And of all the races in existence, only humans had the ability to turn near-impossible odds into reality.
Because they were weak—because they had nothing—they were capable of grasping everything.
The lower they stood on the hierarchy of power, the more Sacred Gears resonated with their resolve. That determination became the perfect fuel.
And in the process, the Sacred Gear evolved alongside its wielder.
That was why God had entrusted them to humanity. To harness that potential—so the Sacred Gears themselves could continue to grow.
Take the ultimate manifestation: Balance Breaker.
A Sacred Gear held by two different users would yield two completely different forms of Balance Breaker, tailored by the will and desire of its wielder.
And those forms would be remembered—recorded—within the Sacred Gear itself.
They grew by absorbing the dreams, the hatred, the ambition of their wielders. That was the path of evolution.
That was why Azazel loved Sacred Gears so much. Because within them... lay infinite possibilities.
"Yes, the gap between us is massive, Governor-General," Akira said.
"You've done more than enough, human," Azazel replied with a nod.
"So, what now?" Akira asked calmly. "Are you going to kill me?"
Though his tone was light, he was already speaking to Ddraig in his mind. If Azazel attacked, he would activate his final card. Even if he died, he'd drag this monster down with him.
Azazel smiled. "No. I'm not going to kill you."
Akira raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"You're the current generation's Red Dragon Emperor. And you already have your destined rival."
"The White Dragon Emperor."
"Correct. He's your opponent—not me. So I'll leave you alive."
"I see... So the White Dragon Emperor is on your side now."
"You catch on quick."
"Thanks for the compliment."
Azazel chuckled. He could tell that Akira had been wary of him from the start. As the foster father of the current White Dragon Emperor, he was well aware of the dangers of Juggernaut Drive—the final evolution of both Boosted Gear and Divine Dividing.
He didn't know whether Akira had reached that level, but... it was obvious this boy still had a trump card ready to detonate.
That look in his eyes—it wasn't the gaze of someone who'd given up. It was someone who still had a plan.
Suddenly, Azazel turned his gaze to the distance.
"Hmm? Looks like all the noise we made is starting to draw attention."
He could feel the presence of multiple auras heading toward them.
After one last glance at Akira, Azazel turned away and vanished into the sky.
Only after he was truly gone did Akira exhale in relief.
Having your life in someone else's hands... it was a terrifying feeling.
He had felt safe—briefly—after unlocking Boosted Gear.
Now he could feel it again.
The bottomless craving for more power.
"Akira! Are you alright?!"
A voice cried out across the battlefield.
Several figures flew toward him through the air. The one leading them was Himejima Akeno.
The moment she saw Akira—his body drenched in blood, clearly badly wounded—she flew to him without hesitation.
Even without witnessing the battle firsthand, the residual magical energy lingering in the air and the destruction all around them told her everything.
She didn't need explanations.
Just one look at Akira was enough.
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