The first meeting of the Occult Research Club concluded in a friendly yet contemplative atmosphere.
Shin politely declined Kiba Yuto's invitation to dinner, using the excuse that he needed to tidy up his newly assigned residence.
After courteously bidding farewell to Rias and the others, he left the luxurious, warmly lit clubroom alone.
Walking through the increasingly empty corridors of the Old School Building, the lingering glow of the setting sun filtered in through tall windows, casting long bands of golden light across the floor.
Yet Shin's state of mind was anything but tranquil.
The discussion about Fallen Angels and the Power of Light during the meeting—especially Rias's final, pointed mention of collecting Divine Artifacts—was like a stone thrown into still water, its ripples spreading endlessly through his thoughts.
He knew the critical point of the plot was drawing closer.
The girl named Asia Argento…
She was likely standing at the very center of fate's vortex right now—helplessly awaiting rescue… or destruction.
"Power of Light… Fallen Angels… the Church…"
Shin pondered silently, his footsteps unconsciously slowing.
The Daoist path emphasized purity and non-action, but it never advocated indifference toward those in need.
Moreover, knowing the future, he understood Asia's innate kindness—and her importance in the days to come.
An indescribable sense of responsibility stirred within him, the instinctive urge of an informed outsider compelled to intervene.
But how should he act?
In what manner?
Should he inform Rias directly?
Setting aside whether anyone would believe his so-called "foresight," recklessly altering the known flow of events could easily trigger a chain reaction far beyond his control.
He needed patience. Observation. And the right moment.
Lost in thought, Shin exited the Old School Building and stepped into the long corridor connecting to the Main School Building.
The number of students here had clearly increased.
Laughter and chatter filled the air as classes ended, a stark contrast to the weight of contemplation pressing on his mind.
Maintaining a Restrained Aura State, he blended into the crowd like an ordinary—if slightly distracted—student.
However—
Just as he rounded a corner and approached the main hall—
An extremely unique, faint yet pure fluctuation of energy brushed against his spiritual senses.
Like a breeze rippling over calm water.
Shin halted mid-step.
This sensation… was similar to the Power of Light discussed earlier in the clubroom—yet fundamentally different.
It wasn't the distorted, aggressive light of Fallen Angels.
Nor was it the deep demonic aura emanating from Rias or Akeno.
This energy was warm. Gentle. Filled with compassion and healing.
Though incredibly faint—like a candle flickering in the wind—it was astonishingly pure, resembling the first ray of dawn after fresh snow melted.
And yet…
Entwined within this radiance was a strand of gloomy, oppressive Dark Aura—completely out of place.
Like a blemish upon flawless jade.
Even more unsettling was the weak life aura of its owner, layered with emotions of hesitation, helplessness, and deep… fear.
Shin abruptly lifted his gaze.
Not far ahead, near a sparsely crowded corridor window, stood a young girl.
Her waist-length golden hair flowed softly, shimmering like honey beneath the dying sunlight.
Her skin was fair as polished jade, her features delicate and doll-like.
A pair of large, clear azure eyes surveyed her surroundings nervously, brows faintly furrowed—an expression that instinctively evoked sympathy.
She wore Kuoh Academy's girls' uniform, yet her presence stood apart from the lively, carefree students around her.
There was something foreign about her.
Something… holy.
It was her.
Asia Argento.
Shin's heart tightened.
Though he had prepared himself mentally, seeing her in person—and sensing the genuine complexity of her aura, where pure light intertwined with oppressive darkness—hit far harder than any written description ever could.
She looked lost.
Standing before a campus signpost, her slender fingers nervously twisted the hem of her uniform as her eyes timidly scanned the unfamiliar, noisy surroundings.
Like a frightened fawn that had wandered into a human city.
That faint yet pure Power of Light came from within her.
And the Dark Aura—
Shin could clearly tell it did not originate from her.
It was an external curse. A restriction imposed upon her body—constantly eroding her already fragile radiance and subjecting her to pain and fear.
"A Divine Artifact… or a curse?"
Several conclusions flashed through his mind.
In the original events, Asia had been expelled by the Church because of her Divine Artifact—the Smile of the Holy Mother, a Sacred Gear capable of healing all beings, devils included.
She was later targeted by the Fallen Angel Raynare, who placed a Restriction on her, forcing her into servitude.
Now, sensing it firsthand, Shin could truly understand the tragedy—
Light imprisoned by darkness.
Kindness shackled by malice.
As the distance between them closed, Shin maintained a normal walking pace, though his gaze lingered on her.
Just as they were about to pass each other—
Perhaps sensing his attention, Asia subtly turned her head.
Their eyes met.
Her azure eyes were as clear as an alpine lake, reflecting Shin's image perfectly—along with her own unguarded panic and vulnerability.
It was pure, defenseless fragility.
Something that stirred a deep response within him.
Shin wasn't easily moved by beauty alone, but the stark contrast between Asia's holiness and her helplessness—combined with the light being steadily corroded by darkness—quietly resonated with the Daoist principle etched into his heart:
Compassion gives rise to courage.
Subconsciously, he offered her a gentle, reassuring smile—free of impurity, free of intent.
He said nothing. Simply nodded politely.
Asia visibly froze.
She hadn't expected such a clean, kind smile from a stranger—especially not someone who looked at her without fear or rejection.
The panic in her eyes softened slightly, replaced by shy confusion and faint relief.
She hesitated… then nodded back.
A delicate blush appeared on her pale cheeks.
But—
The instant she nodded, Shin saw it.
The necklace resting against her slender neck—seemingly ordinary—flickered briefly.
Not with holy light.
But with a sinister, purplish-black radiance.
The glow vanished as quickly as it appeared.
And immediately, the color drained from Asia's face.
Pain twisted her expression. Fear surged violently in her eyes.
She lowered her head abruptly, hugging her thin shoulders as if warding off invisible torment.
Her steps became hurried and unsteady as she rushed past Shin, almost fleeing.
Her golden hair traced a panicked arc through the air.
Shin stopped.
He didn't turn to watch her retreat.
The gentleness in his eyes vanished, replaced by calm, profound stillness.
"As expected… a Restriction," he murmured inwardly.
That necklace wasn't just monitoring her—it punished her. Controlled her. Inflicted pain whenever her emotions wavered.
"The Fallen Angels truly are despicable."
A faint but sharp anger ignited within his usually tranquil heart.
Not because she was beautiful—
But because this blatant trampling of free will, this coercion of kindness through suffering, was an affront to the Dao he cultivated—and a violation of the most basic principles of benevolence and righteousness.
Shin exhaled slowly, releasing turbid Qi as he suppressed the surge of emotion.
This brief encounter had confirmed everything.
Asia was already ensnared. The Fallen Angels' grip was firm.
Rescue would soon become inevitable.
He took no immediate action—only etched the image of the frightened yet holy golden-haired girl, along with the cursed necklace, deep into his memory.
Turning away, he resumed walking toward the school gates, his expression once again calm and unremarkable.
As if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Yet deep within his heart, a seed had been planted.
A seed named Intervention.
Born from that suffering holy gleam.
Waiting patiently for the moment it would break through the soil.
The wind had begun to stir—
At the very tip of the duckweed.
And here, without words or awareness, the threads of fate between the girl at the center of the vortex and the Eastern Advisor who quietly passed by her completed their first silent intertwining.
...
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