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Dragon Slayer: Prologue [High School DxD SI]
🕑 Added 2025-11-11 11:09:19 +0000 UTCPrologue
May you live in interesting things. For such an innocent sounding question, it was quite the terrible curse, one which should be reserved for only the worst of enemies. After all, what was an interesting life if not one filled with woes and tribulation?
Truly, such would be a terrible life, one only reserved for great heroes and villains. They at least have the strength of character or the power to overcome such challenges. For people like him though? For those merely trying to just live through their lives and those who were just happy for the blessing given upon them? That life sounded like hell.
"Rise and shine, kiddo," His father cheered, snapping him awake, "We're getting close!"
With his eyes bleary and neck aching, he groaned awake, still groggy from sleep. "What time is it?" He mumbled tiredly in the backseat as he peeled away the hard panel he had slept in, his drool marking his not so blissful sleep.
True to his fathers words, signs of civilization had long since disappeared as rolling hills and flats of basalt stretched across the horizon, reminding him of the desolate surface of the moon in all those photos. Truly, the Crater of the Moon lived up to its name. It was just a shame that he had to see it at such ungodly hours.
"It's just a quarter past three," His father replied, having the audacity to grin as he stared back at him through the rear view mirror, "We actually got here half an hour early!"
"Half an hour early from our four hour trip," He muttered as he heard his mother yawn awake. Clearly, he was not made of the same stuff heroes of legends were made off. "I swear, if it wasn't for that stupid sword, I wouldn't be here."
For some unknown reason, the church called upon the many parishes and exorcists in the empty state of Idaho to convene and gather for a ceremony that had only been done a couple of times in its lovely state, a ceremony in which they have the sword pick a wielder. Why they picked Idaho of all places, instead of like Boston or hell, just the Vatican, was beyond him and he was not happy about it.
"Oh don't be like, kiddo," His father laughed as the car turned and the sound of gravel grounded beneath them, "Didn't you used to say you wanted to be an Exorcist just like us?"
"I used to say that," He corrected, gritting his teeth as they trekked through the rough unpaved path deeper into the wilderness. To distract himself, he peered out towards the darkened horizon and out towards the rolling hills of hardened stone and grass knolls.
"Is it because you thought you had a Sacred Gear and was disappointed when the good angel had to break the news?" His mother teased sleepily, making his cheeks burn with embarrassment.
"Please don't remind me," He grumbled, wishing that his younger self had better impulse control. "So many embarrassing memories…" He despaired, hating how his good memory haunted him.
"Cheer up, kiddo," His father grinned, "Just because you didn't have those fancy trinkets doesn't mean you can't serve the lord like us!"
Gesturing at himself and his mother, he added "We might not have the miracles wielded by those blessed by the lord, but we still serve the lord whole heartedly and that's all that matters."
"I know," He sighed, "It's just that I think that being an exorcist isn't for me." And no, that wasn't him being salty about realizing his lack of power… well at least partly. The real reason was that he realized how out of depth he was in his situation.
"Are you sure about that, honey?" His mother asked hopefully, "You're amazing with the spear and you are a natural aim."
"Yes, but I'm just the warrior type," He explained, letting his parents down gently. "And besides, didn't I tell you guys I'm going to study hard to become a researcher?" He smiled. Hey, just because he was afraid of the big fish doesn't mean he would hide his head in the sand.
This was magic, and holy magic at that. If he could serve the lord (May he rest in peace and that he would come back one day) in some other way other than fighting, then he'd take it. That did mean he wasn't going to take on the family's trade, something his father lamented quite frequently. "It's just a shame that our long line of exorcist would end."
"But I'd be the first to go to the Vatican and learn the higher mysteries if I study hard enough and get myself a scholarship," He countered, earning himself a chuckle from his parents.
While he might be lacking in might, he did have some magic, magic he had been cultivating all these years. The plasticity of a kid's mind was one hell of a performance enhancer, so long as he could tame his childish attention span that was. It also helped that his parents encouraged him.
"That's our boy. I swear he got it from my meemaw" His father praised him, making his heart swell with pride.
"Or maybe he got it from me," His mother huffed, making his father laugh.
"From both my meemaw and your dear," His father corrected as he turned away from the road, and kissed his mother, earning a giggle from her.
"And while I'd hate to interrupt," He hissed as he grabbed hold of the grab handles for his dear life, "Please keep attention to the road!".
Fortunately, his father was deft behind the wheels of their station wagon and quickly righted himself as they kept focused their attention on the almost invisible path once more. One wrong bump was all it would take to send their ride tumbling across the rough trail and he really would not want to get stuck out here in the middle of wilderness even if he had magic, especially with the gathering storm overhead.
"Those clouds don't look too happy," He noted as he gazed up, slightly disappointed that the stars were covered, especially as the park was famous for its unpolluted dark skies.
Shaking his head, he gazed out to the horizon and watched listlessly as rogue flashes of lightning arced across the sky. "Has it really been nearly fifteen years?" he mused to himself. It was almost comical how naive he was back then when he first woke up in this world, all starry eyed at his new lease in life as he grew up on tales of saints, angels and powerful warriors who wielded the holy magic.
That was, until his mind somehow settled somewhat as the haze of childhood lifted and the dawning realization of where he was kicked in. "God damn devils…" He whispered as he saw a glimpse of angles floating above an encampment in the distance.
"Did you say something, Georgie?" His father asked, reminding him he wasn't alone.
"Nothing," He answered, waving off his fathers concern, making sure to keep his thoughts to himself this time.
Now he could be entirely wrong here and he was somewhere else, but the name of Sirzech Lucifer popping up during his lessons involving demonology was all too hard to miss. Hey, those affiliated with the church have to teach their kids which demons to run from so he was glad he got to learn about them before he got it in his head he wanted to be a hero.
As the traitorous thoughts of Rias and the other alluring she demons filtered into his mind, he pushed it down. "I'm not touching that with a ten foot pole," He whispered to himself partly out of respect for the Super Satan who could obliterate him with a sneeze and the fact that he had a functional sense of self preservation.
"Beside," He thought as he glanced towards his loving parents, "I'd break their heart if I ever decided to reincarnate as a devil."
Call him a sentimental fool, but he wasn't going to just spurn his parents' love, even if they weren't his original ones, just for immortality. They were proper god fearing christians and so was he. It was hard not to be when he could see angels right outside with their unearthly glow and snow white wings, talking to the other exorcist friends of his family as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
"DxD, I swear," He whispered as he grabbed his reach for his pack in the back before getting out of the car, eager to stretch his legs.
He was not going to get involved with the craziness if he could help it, not when he didn't have their bullshits, or at least as far as he knows. There is still the off chance he had a Sacred Gear, but that was unlikely. He was not equipped to handle all that.
"I'm happy the way things are anyways," he groaned as finally stood in solid earth before rubbing his aching back, "No need to chase after grand dreams and adventure." He'd rather be comfortable and happy in his own little corner of the world.
"You already have a good life here," He thought to himself happily as he stared at the clouds. Still bad, but the wind hadn't picked up. Probably just a storm cell passing overhead, nothing to be worried about.
Just as he turned his attention back down and stretched, he felt a sudden jolt run down his spine. It was soft, almost imperceptible, but there was something out there, something calling to him, something which he couldn't just ignore.
"Weilder…" It spoke as the wind brushed against his cheeks.
Confused, he whirled around, wondering if someone had called him only to find no one in particular gazing towards him. "Weird," He frowned, chalking it off as a figment of his imagination until it called out again, this time much louder and clearer. "Dragon Slayer…"
"What the hell…" He whispered, now concerned. This wasn't normal, and what's worse is that it seems like he was the only one hearing it based on the lack of reaction from everyone else. Either someone was messing with him, or something was clearly wrong.
Just as he was about to call upon the attention of his parents, he felt it a third time, this time, with a voice he could feel down to his very core. "Weilder… Dragon Slayer… you've returned…" It spoke as his gaze landed towards the central tent in the encampment.
The sword was calling to him, the sword that the church was seeking a wielder for. It had not only spoken to him, but he could feel it, this gentle light that encompassed all, protecting anyone who believed, and empowering those who had faith, calling out to him, urging him to take arms. He had been chosen…
"Nope, not happening!" He panicked as he immediately back tracked, eager to get as far away as possible. He was too young and handsome to deal with this type of shit. He was no hero so why him of all people! "Couldn't they just pick anyone else?!"
"Hey maw, paw, you go ahead." He called out nervously as he gestured at the stalls and festivities happening around the tent city, "I'll go check on the fair if you don't mind?"
Eyeing the minor angel warily along with the spinning biblically accurate creatures with them, he wondered, "They don't know right?" They haven't glanced at his direction once. Surely, he could just sneak away and just ignore this till the problem goes away, right?
"You sure you don't want to go see the sword?" His father asked, gazing at him in concern, "You know I could help you get a sneak peak."
"I'll pass," He laughed, his smile straining as he edged away, "Besides, I'll see it anyways so what's the rush?" That was a lie off course, but he had to keep a low profile unless he wanted to call the attention of the angels.
Fortunately, his father took the excuse as he shrugged. "Your loss," His father replied as he gave him a pat on the head, ruffling his dark curly locks, "Just don't go wandering off in the desert." Gesturing at the shimmering dome around them, he reminded him, "Just cause we're protected doesn't mean a skinwalker can't snatch you up if you get too close to the edge."
"Yeah, yeah, you don't have to remind me twice, paw," He muttered. Just because he doesn't want to be part of the festivity doesn't mean he was going to do something stupid. He just wanted to be as far away as possible from the sword.
"I'll join you once the ceremony starts, ok?" He lied once more before he slipped away and power walked towards the small tent city. He needed some air to clear his mind because the voice kept talking to him.
"Weilder…" It called out, its tone almost begging as he felt a pulsing heat emanating from his very core. The sword wanted him and it was giving him little choice on the matter as he felt this energy burn through his veins. "You are chosen…"
"No they don't!" He gritted out, ignoring the looks some of the kids sent his way as he stumbled past the many stalls. "I'm not the hero they need. Pick someone else, please!
He was no genius, nor was he a prodigy, he was merely himself, an ordinary man. He wasn't anywhere near special, much less worthy of wielding so why does it torment him as it called out to him again.
"Weilder… Dragon Slayer…" It whispered, its tone cold and commanding, uncaring of his feelings or desires, "You are needed…"
He, however, would reject it, refusing its call. "No! God! No! Please no!" He had a wonderful life, one that didn't need any excitement. "I'm not ready for this!" He just wanted a simple life, one without worry or troubles so why does have to be the one to deal with this? "There has to be someone better right?!"
Still, it remained instant. Despite having stumbled him to the edge of the barrier, it called to him, refusing to let him go as it reached out to him. "Weilder"
"You had 15 years, god!" He shouted out of frustration, no longer caring if someone would hear him, "Fifteen years to give me a sign."
He had plans, he had dreams and aspirations that involved not getting thrown directly at danger, something which the sword threatened to take away. Can anyone fault him for getting angry? That they would disturb his peace after he found it?
He was just angry and frustrated. Angry that the sword did not listen to him and frustrated because now that he no longer seeked out adventure, a holy sword now seeked him out. "Why now? Why me?!" He shouted to the heavens as the sky crackled and the earth heaved beneath his feet.
"Because you will rise up to the challenge…" The sword answered before the world around him melted into a sea of ash and roaring flames, throwing him off his feet.
BOOM!
The next thing he knew, he was laying atop hot, jagged rocks, scratching him, while dust and ash filled every breath. "Fuck," He coughed as he tried forcing himself up, only for his arms to give out under him, making him eat face full of gravel.
ROAR!
He needed to get up. Even as his head spun and his body aching, he forced himself to his feet, laughing half hysterically as he did so. Everything was on fire. The tattered tents, the ground itself and even some people as they screamed and rolled at the ground, desperately trying to put out the mystical fire that rolled across the encampment.
Life was just so unfair, wasn't it? Just when he thought he had things all figured out, it decided to throw a spanner at him in the form of a stupid sword too stubborn to listen and a giant dragon made of ash and tephra looming overhead, spewing toxic fumes down on the ground.
FWOOOH!
With barely any second to spare, he raised his arms as he called upon the light, wrapping himself with its warmth just before a wave of scalding hot miasma washed over him, nearly knocking him off his feet. It felt like he was being boiled alive, but his shield held, allowing him to live long enough to curse his rotten luck.
"A dragon," He laughed as he stumbled forward, half delirious from the heat. He used to like dragons. They were fucking awesome, being winged dinosaurs that breath fire. That was, until he finally met one. He fucking hated dragons now.
ROAR!
Why the hell was a dragon here of all things? In an encampment guarded by angels and seasoned exorcists no less? It was suicide even for a dragon, but it was clear was this was no ordinary dragon as it stood proudly, taking shots that would bring lesser of its kind. He almost wanted to cry.
Why were they here? There had to be a reason and he knew exactly why. "You!" He raved as he stumbled into the half ruined central tent, "You caused all this!"
There it laid upon a pedestal, protected by a barrier of light as if it was taunting him as everything burned around them. Despite all the people in need of help, it just sat there, refusing to be wielded by anyone else. "Dragon Slayer…"
Ignoring the exorcist, he marched straight into the barrier, shrugging off the momentary pain as he grabbed the stupid thing. "I don't know how or why, but this is all your fault!" He shouted as he gripped its hilt, trying to squeeze the life out of it.
It, however, was a sword, and he didn't have enough bullshit to make it feel pain, but that wasn't going to stop him from trying as this thing was the root of all his current problems.
FWOOOSH!
"See!" He shouted as toxic fumes washed over them with only the tents barrier protecting him and those within, "That overgrown lizard wants you destroyed!" He could see it now. That dragon wanted this thing destroyed and he couldn't even blame it. How this thing even became a holy sword was beyond him when it was just so fucking stupid!
"If you had just shut up then this wouldn't have happened!" He screamed as he raised the sword before chopping the sword against the pedestal and cutting it cleanly in half, making the two halves of solid granite crash down on the ground.
CRASH!
This stupid sword couldn't even do things right by shattering against the stone. No! It had to show off as it cut the pedestal cleanly. It even had the gal to sparkle and glow in his hands. He hated it so much, but not as much compared to the other source of his headache.
ROAR!
"Can you shut up for one second you overgrown lizard!" He screamed, making the thing pause as it stared at him with those small beady eyes, "By god, you might just be the stupidest thing I've ever seen!" He shouted at it, making sure it heard him loud and cruel, "You call yourself a dragon and all you have is super heated gas!? Come back when you actually have a real breath, and not just yesterday's lunch!"
The silence that followed was deafening, and the glare the dragon sent him was that of pure, unbridled rage. He should have honestly just stopped at that point, but if this sword and that stupid was going to ruin his day, might as well return the favor.
"Yeah, that's right," He shouted, spreading his arms wide as he taunted the dragon, "I'm talking about you, you overgrown rat with wings!"
"You think you can just waltz around her, destroying the things I loved and taking my precious peace!?" He screamed as the sword grew brightly in his arms, just aching to be used, "Well I have news for you buddy and the same goes for you, asshole!"
With his clenching the sword tightly, he gritted out, "Since you two clearly want to kill each other, then I am to stop you!" Yes, that's right! Why should this sword remain inside the barrier while that dragon was trying to bite its way through it. The two needed some time together!
"Here, let me help you!" He shouted as he raised the sword overhead and aimed it right at the corpse-like dragon's mouth. Just the effort alone had his muscle straining while the sword burnt with the light of a thousand sun, but fuck it and fuck everything. He wanted it gone now!
"Catch!" He roared, heart ablaze with power as he tossed the sword straight at the dragon, making the wind whip as it sailed like a blazing comet straight towards the dragon's maw.
It was almost beautiful how its path left a trail of fire as it whirled through the air like an oversized saw, slicing and chopping through viscera and bone alike. He almost forgot why he was angry. Maybe he was a bit too harsh on the sword, but at least it was gone.
BOOM!
CRASH!
Arms raised, he shielded himself as blood and dust rained down around him, pelting him with hot stones and chunks of rotting flesh before things cleared out and there was silence. Finally, it was over and as he pulled back his arm, he stared up in awe at the circular clearing in the clouds left by the sword streaking off in the distance and the sea of stars above, setting the sky ablaze with light.
"Pretty…" He whispered as he stood there, mesmerized at the beautiful sight before him. Maybe life wasn't so bad once he got all those stupid things out of his way. His peace, however, was momentary as he noticed the glances around him.
"He killed the dragon…" the people around him whispered as they stared at him with wide eyed wonder. "He killed Python!" Soon, more people would gather, those at least strong enough to get back to their feet or weren't being attended to by the angels.
Opening his mouth to question what the hell they were talking about, he paused before turning towards the corpse of the dragon. This can't be Python, right? Sure, it was convulsing despite its head missing, and healing before his eyes (Something which the angels were dealing with as well), but surely he couldn't have just killed a being straight out of the pages of myth right?
That would be just silly. Why would a Cathonic Monster from Greece be found all the way out here? It couldn't be and yet a part of him whispered to him this was real, that he had just faced Python and came out untouched with witness to back his claim.
As realization started to sink in, he saw his parents stumble into the gathered crowd. "George?" His father called out while supporting mother as they limped towards him, both injured, but relatively fine, "You… you killed Python…"
"I…" He whispered at a loss. What the hell was he supposed to tell them? Even he couldn't believe what he had just done. Mouth agape, he just stood helpless as his parents looked at him with pride.
"My son…" His father whispered before pausing as he and his mother knelt before him, "No, Dragon Slayer, wielder of Ascalon."
Soon, the rest of the crowd joined in while the angelic thrones flitted around him, as if heralding his achievement, something he wanted nothing to do with. "Wait no!" He tried to argue, "I'm not a Dragon Slayer! I'm-!"
Those words however would get cut short as his arm moved on its own before catching the blade. He had caught the blade, and now he held it high like a triumphant hero. "Fuck…" He whispered. He was screwed, wasn't he?
"Ascalon has chosen a new wielder!" One of the angels proclaimed much to the jubilation of the crowd as they lifted him up over their heads, chanting his title; Dragon Slayer, all while he screamed out in despair.
"God damn it!" He just wanted to have a normal life!
A/N: Sorry for the delay. Got sick and typhoon happened. Will try getting a Seoul Kitchen out later today, before moving on to other stuff. Still need to do the monthly RWBY story so a bit of a crunch.
Comments
travis btmb
Tftc
travis btmb
"Weilder…" It called out, just so you know you misspelt wielder multiple times.
travis btmb
"Are you sure about that, honey?" His mother asked hopefully, "You're amazing with the spear and you are a natural aim." Personally you are a natural aim doesnt sound right to me i wouldve said you are a natural marksmen or you are a natural with a gun or you are a crack shot something along those lines granted this is just my opinion.
Hickity
Looks neat, spotted some errors: May you live in interesting things. For such an innocent sounding question, it was quite the terrible curse, one which should be reserved for only the worst of enemies. After all, what was an interesting life if not one filled with woes and tribulation In interesting times. An innocent sounding expression. "From both my meemaw and your dear," His father corrected as he turned away from the road, and kissed his mother, earning a giggle from her. "And while I'd hate to interrupt," He hissed as he grabbed hold of the grab handles for his dear life, "Please keep attention to the road!". And you dear. Please keep your eyes on the road! He was not going to get involved with the craziness if he could help it, not when he didn't have their bullshits, or at least as far as he knows. There is still the off chance he had a Sacred Gear, but that was unlikely. He was not equipped to handle all that. That craziness. Their bullshit. "Weilder…" It spoke as the wind brushed against his cheeks. Wielder Just as he was about to call upon the attention of his parents, he felt it a third time, this time, with a voice he could feel down to his very core. "Weilder… Dragon Slayer… you've returned…" It spoke as his gaze landed towards the central tent in the encampment. Wielder "Weilder…" It called out, its tone almost begging as he felt a pulsing heat emanating from his very core. The sword wanted him and it was giving him little choice on the matter as he felt this energy burn through his veins. "You are chosen…" Wielder. The energy. He was no genius, nor was he a prodigy, he was merely himself, an ordinary man. He wasn't anywhere near special, much less worthy of wielding so why does it torment him as it called out to him again." He wasn't anything special, much less worthy of wielding a legendary sword. "No they don't!" He gritted out, ignoring the looks some of the kids sent his way as he stumbled past the many stalls. "I'm not the hero they need. Pick someone else, please!" No I'm not! Weilder… Dragon Slayer…" It whispered, its tone cold and commanding, uncaring of his feelings or desires, "You are needed…" Wielder. Still, it remained instant. Despite having stumbled him to the edge of the barrier, it called to him, refusing to let him go as it reached out to him. "Weilder" Still, it remained insistent. Despite him having stumbled. Wielder. With his clenching the sword tightly, he gritted out, "Since you two clearly want to kill each other, then I am to stop you!" Yes, that's right! Why should this sword remain inside the barrier while that dragon was trying to bite its way through it. The two needed some time together! With his hand clenching. Then who am I.
