Transmigrated With A Time Chamber In DxD

“Haa…haa..”

…she didn’t know when it started, but his simple presence made her knees feel weak everytime. But today was the first time he touched her directly…

*Drip* *Drip*

…and she couldn’t control her body’s reactions.

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|DxD|

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Ruined Himejima Clan, Kyoto, A few minutes prior.

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Yasaka and Kurohime walked through the bloodied remains of the Himejima clan. The atmosphere was dark with grey clouds hanging above the clan. Numerous crows had already made themselves known and were casually plucking at the empty eye holes of the fallen.

While Yasaka had a look of sympathy on her face, Kurohime was impassive as she respectfully followed behind. The amount of gore shocked Yasaka and until now, she couldn’t understand why this happened.

When she caught the sight of a crow fleeing with a ripped-out eye in its beak, she sighed.

“This is…horrible.”

This was a truly horrible ending that would scar the land for years to come. Yasaka could clearly sense the negative energy in the air fueled by the aggrieved souls of the dead. She could see it on the corpses that many were not instantly killed, but died slowly and in pain.

As for Kurohime, she quietly followed behind Yasaka with the grace of a barbarian. Without care or respect for the dead, she cared not if she stepped on her hand or crushed a rib. With absolute grace, Kurohime maintained the same length of distance between her steps. On the other hand, Yasaka was different as she respectfully avoided stepping on the corpses.

Kurohime only silently watched as Yasaka showed visible concern on her face.

[Truly, you are kind, Yasaka-sama. Unfortunately, this one can never forgive them.]

It was a trait that Kurohime admired because unlike the rest of the world, she knew first-hand just how truly treacherous the Himejima clan was. The whole reason that a girl with such a foreign appearance like hers was in Japan is due to the Himejima clan in the first place.

Yasaka seemed to notice that Kurohime was dragging behind. Her blonde aide seemed to be lost in thought, those blue eyes of hers appearing somewhat covered in a haze.

“Hmm? Are you-”

It was then that she remembered where they were.

“I’m so sorry Kurohime. You can leave if you wish to.”

Kurohime lowered her head in respect.

“This one will be alright, Yasaka-sama.”

But Yasaka couldn’t…wouldn’t believe everything was fine. She was aware of how much pain the Himejima had caused to her blonde aide. It was to the point that Yasaka wouldn’t believe that Kurohime was alright.

So she stepped forward and brought her into her embrace.

“Tell me if it gets too hard, okay?”

“...”

Kurohime couldn’t reply. She had been able to keep her emotions in check. But because of Yasaka, the suppressed emotions were suddenly hard to hold back. Her fists were clenched, her body trembling in sadness. Her dam of emotions which had been well until now crumbled under Yasaka’s embrace. Yasaka hugged her tightly in silent comfort, her love and care being conveyed in her warmth. She let Kurohime silently cry on her chest, not caring in the slightest for her garments wetting.

She cradled her chin on top of Kurohime’s head, while she gently scratched her head.

“Let’s go back.”

But suddenly, Kurohime grabbed the hems of her clothes.

“No. This one…”

She looked up to Yasaka with red eyes. Yet instead of sadness, there was some semblance of desperation and anger.

“His corpse. This one has to see his corpse.”

Yasaka looked sadly at Kurohime.

“Alright.”

The both of them walked through the strewn bodies of the Himejima towards the centre of the compound. The manor of the Himejima was immensely large and every single inch of it was drenched in blood. While Yasaka felt a trace of pity, Kurohime was observing each of them for a certain man.

Time passed as the two of them walked and eventually, traces of fire damage began to show. The ground and walls were charred black by the numerous fireballs that had clearly missed their targets. There was still a trace of magic in the air so it hadn’t been too long since these fireballs had been launched.

As the two of them continued walking forward, Yasaka spotted the only burnt corpse in the clearing. Having stepped forward to examine it, the body was charred black without hope of identification were normal means to be used. It had been reduced to a silhouette and even then it looked to be one strong breeze away from disintegrating.

But despite the corpse’s state, Yasaka knew the one person who had the skills and the magic to identify it. So she turned to Kurohime. Her aide was very capable when it came to magic and would be able to identify who this person was through her unique methods.

But…

“Kurohime?”

When Yasaka turned around, her heart nearly flew out of her chest. Just a dozen metres from her, she saw a sight she never thought she would have to see again. Her trusted aide, the one who held her composure even in the hardest of times, was now shaking like a leaf. Kurohime was breathing heavily with her body trembling rapidly. Her expressionless visage had now contorted to reveal something between hatred and anguish. Yasaka darted her eyes down and it was then that she recognised who’s corpse that was, the corpse of Suou Himejima.

And it was his corpse that Kurohime knelt down to and began to strangle.

“Finally! Finally you died! How did it feel? How did it feel to have your family taken? To watch their lives fade in front of your eyes? How did it feel?! HOW?!?!”

Her composure was lost as tears flooded her cheeks. Even her servile way of speaking and referring to herself in third person faded before the overwhelming pain that flooded her heart. Seeing the corpse of Suou brought back memories that she had desperately tried to suppress for years.

“Fifty years. It’s been fifty years since you killed my family!”*

Suou’s neck was making audible cracking sounds, a result of Kurohime’s strong grip. Her dainty hands locked around his throat like a vice that crushed his windpipe.

“Do you remember, Suou? Surely you remember very well. You raided my home, stormed my family’s castle, murdered my father, mother, and all my brothers. Everyone I had ever known died in your hands.”

She could vividly remember how the young Suou lined up her family and hung them. It was a scene that haunted her dreams for decades, resulting in her having sleepless nights and drenched pillows. She could still see how two by two, her family had their necks fastened in a noose and rapidly pulled up. Their deaths were slow and she was forced to witness it all. Their bodies convulsing, their bodies relieving themselves, their eyes bulging out and the way they hung lifelessly after over dozens of minutes of a torturous slow death.

She could still see the images of her mother and father being hung while a prideful Suou bragged about his achievements, all the while remaining oblivious to the little girl hiding beneath the floorboards, her trembling eyes taking in everything through a crack.

That same little girl had now grown into a vengeful beauty that shouldered the weight of the decimation of her clan, her people.

“Just two more years. I only needed two more years and you would’ve died by my hands. I had planned everything and made all the preparations. Just why?! WHY…why did you die so soon…”

Her anger subsided in the place of her sadness which skyrocketed.

“My maid…my lifesaver…my only friend. For the sake of my life, she impersonated me, AND SHE DIED BY YOUR HAND!”

GRUUU!

Her mana began to fluctuate along with her emotions. The pressure alone caused the air to become heavy with her emotions. Blue aura manifested around her as her power instantly soared into god class. Having been stuck in the peak of ultimate class for years, it was truly substantial just how much hatred she felt.

The pure sadness and rage that Kurohime had buried for all these years came out as she vented.

“Not once have I ever forgotten your face, Suou. Not once. I hope…”

She pulled Suou’s corpse right to her face, her tone filled with pure venom

“I hope you felt more pain than I did when you killed my family, burnt my home, and slaughtered my race.”

Kurohime could never forget the day, the day when her entire realm was invaded by a myriad of different races. She could never forget how everyone had been caught offguard. Access to their realm was sealed and most of their forces were guarding the Antarctic entrance so when there was a sudden breach in the Italian entrance, it resulted in a complete slaughter.

Numerous of her clansmen rallied to fight, yet they were suppressed by the invading alliance. Her family was powerful, but so were the attackers. With her father and brothers having been defeated, they retreated to the palace where they were suddenly ambushed by the Himejima. In their heavily weakened and grievously wounded states, her father and brothers who were all in the god class or ultimate class were unable to combat the Himejima with their artifacts which made all of them exert the power of peak-high class to ultimate class entities.

It was only through the quick-thinking of her maid that she was quickly hidden underneath the cupboards before the gruesome scene of the Himejima’s ambush happened. Having sat for hours in hiding, it was only through the dimension collapsing that she was “spit”. With her hair having turned white from the trauma, her Aryan heritage was hidden. Having appeared in the allley ways of Kyoto, she was forced to wonder the city streets until she ran into Yasaka.

For five decades, she harboured this grudge, always preparing for when she would strike back. She trained in her clan techniques, the knowledge of every single technique having been passed into her head. For decades she endured and pushed her body to the limits. At daytime she would train in the sword while at night she would train her magic. All of this was so that when the time came, she would be strong enough to exact vengeance. But it appeared that her grudge no longer needed to be held.

Looking at Suou’s lifeless face, she dropped his corpse to the ground.

“I hope you never rest in peace.”

She looked at him like he was the scum of the earth. All that was left was absolute disgust in her eyes yet, hating someone who had died wouldn’t help her anymore.

Yasaka who was standing afar couldn’t help but finally speak.

“Kurohime-”

“No. I will no longer use that name.”

She turned towards Yasaka and gradually, her luscious blonde hair turned white. Her true appearance which she had concealed for years revealed itself.

“From today onwards, I am Aurelia, Aurelia von Drachenberg.”

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AN

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“Fifty years. It’s been fifty years since you killed my family!”*

Explanation: Fifty years have passed yet she’s still a beauty? It’s those Aryan genes at work. In chapter 57, Shiva muses about how Aryans seem to naturally have long lifespans. To quote when he observed Igor in his Kaioken:“His lifespan is increasing? Truly intriguing. Even the most powerful Aryans barely lived past their third century, yet his range is nearing the fourth. Such a divine technique, I wonder how he chanced upon it.”. So from this, we can guess that at the very least, Aryans can live for two centuries.

If you’re interested in reading ahead, here’s the link: patreon.com/HolyGambler