My Unique Skill is Fate Gacha(DxD)

The Seventh Heaven.

It was the original home of God.

There, the System of God, the structure that controlled miracles, still remained active, sustaining the delicate balance of Creation even after the Creator's death.

But the most curious thing was its appearance.

Contrary to what one might imagine, the Seventh Heaven was not a golden hall or a room of blinding light. As soon as Michael led Kazuya there, passing through a silver portal engraved with ancient letters and protective symbols, the scene that unfolded was surprisingly simple.

The sky there was not white like the rest of Heaven.

It was a pale blue, translucent, like a clear summer day, where lazy cotton clouds drifted slowly, reflected in a horizon with neither land nor sea. The light there was calm, with no apparent source, and the air carried the faint scent of dew and morning.

At the center, a single room floated, sustained by nothing more than the will of the place itself.

It was a modest room, with smooth walls, devoid of adornments or sacred symbols. In the corner, an old tube television, the kind with large buttons and crooked antennas, rested on a simple dark wooden stand. It was turned off, but its presence carried a nostalgic and strangely comforting aura.

Nearby, a low, rustic table, marked by time, supported a dark wooden clipboard with ancient papers and records, floating slightly above its surface. That clipboard was the Sacred Gear System, the device that maintained, regulated, and updated all the Sacred Gears existing in the world, a direct legacy of God's hand.

On the invisible walls of the sky around, the space seemed to subtly shift and change, as if the place were made of memory and concept more than matter.

Michael walked calmly beside Kazuya, his steps making no sound on the nothingness they trod upon.

The young man with white hair and supernatural blue eyes observed everything without surprise but with evident curiosity.

It was Michael who broke the silence:

"The Seventh Heaven is… peculiar." His voice was soft, almost too respectful for that space: "It doesn't have a fixed form…"

Michael gazed at the lazy clouds, a faint nostalgic smile framing his serene features.

"The appearance of this place changes consciously through the unconsciousness of whoever enters here…" he explained: "The blue sky and these clouds… They're something I like to watch when I'm alone…"

He gestured lightly toward the floating room.

"That simple room…" Michael continued, looking at Kazuya with green eyes laden with ancient meaning: "It came from you. Before, there was only the blue sky for me and what I thought was the true appearance of the System of God and the Sacred Gear System…"

Kazuya raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a sly smile.

"That's interesting. God really was an unprecedented genius," he murmured, slipping his hands into his pants pockets.

His blue eyes slid over the old television.

"Brings back memories…"

Michael nodded, his faint smile never leaving his lips. He then pointed to the clipboard and the television.

"That's the Sacred Gear System," he indicated: "And there… the System of God you wanted to see, Kazuya-dono…"

Kazuya raised his eyebrows.

"I see. Thank you so much for indulging this selfish request of mine…"

After finalizing the details of the alliance with the angels in a meeting that lasted a few hours, he made a request: he wanted to take a sort of tour through the Seven Heavens, places he had heard about in his first life in the Light Novel of this world, including the one they were in now, accessible only to Michael and those to whom he granted permission.

Surprisingly, the angels agreed without any hesitation. No questions, no reluctance. That made him slightly suspicious.

They were really trying to please him…

Well, it wasn't a bad thing. And perhaps he simply didn't know them well enough to judge. Maybe… they were genuinely good. Or maybe they were only being so receptive because he was a human and one of the Ten Strongest Beings in the World…

If he were a demon or any other supernatural race, in truth, he highly doubted the angels would have agreed so easily.

All that receptiveness probably existed only because he was human.

And, of course… because he was absurdly powerful.

"No problem…" Michael then turned more serious, but still with kindness: "Few have permission to be here, Kazuya-dono. But as we want to do everything we can to help you, we made this exception… But you seemed quite intrigued about starting here. What did you want to see in the Seventh Heaven?"

"Well, nothing too special…" Kazuya said, approaching the table and picking up the clipboard while examining it: "I just wanted to take a look at God's creations…"

Unbothered by the boy's boldness, Michael smiled openly for the first time since the conversation began.

"My father was incredible… Even I don't fully understand how to use both systems, from what I've learned… They only display information about the Sacred Gears on the clipboard and allow some monitoring of their status. And on the television, I can hear the prayers of the faithful and perform miracles as far as possible. The two are interconnected, so I can use the clipboard to execute miracles while watching the television…"

Kazuya let the clipboard rest back on the table. The object floated slightly before settling with a soft click, as if the space around it had adjusted its weight. His blue eyes, shining like the reflection of light on water, turned to the old television.

It was a ridiculously outdated model, with a slightly convex screen, misaligned antennas pointing in opposite directions like crooked horns, and a panel of mechanical buttons showing the wear of time. It didn't match the image he had of the Seventh Heaven at all… but, curiously, it felt right.

"May I?" he asked, not waiting for an answer.

Michael merely nodded, with that same calm, almost paternal smile.

Kazuya knelt before the device, as if it were a sacred object or at least curious enough to treat with some respect. He ran his fingers over the dusty wooden surface, feeling the rough texture and the marks of time. With a faint click of the buttons, the screen came to life.

For a moment, only static filled the display. Gray and black waves danced in a hypnotic pattern. But then, images began to appear. Disconnected scenes of ancient churches, kneeling faithful, a sunlit field where children played, a storm raging over a turbulent ocean.

And then… voices.

Faint at first, like whispers in an empty room, but soon clearer. Ancient and modern words, desperate pleas, and calm prayers.

"Please, heal my mother."

"May he return home safely."

"Protect us from demons."

"Forgive my sins."

"Thank you… for another day."

Each phrase came from a different direction, as if echoing from all parts of the world around them.

Kazuya tilted his head slightly, his eyes half-closed. It was… beautiful.

"So… that's how it works…" he murmured, half to himself.

Michael, standing behind him, crossed his arms.

"As I said… the television is the interface where prayers arrive. When God was alive, He listened to them here. And with the clipboard, He decided what could or could not be done. Although for my father, it was quite different from this place—it was a starry sky where the sun was the Sacred Gear System, and the Earth was His other System…"

Kazuya let out a soft sigh, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

"He had good taste…"

He then looked at Michael and said: "I'm impressed that you all can manage both systems. I'm not saying it's the best or most perfect, but you're doing a good job."

Michael smiled, but this time it was a sad smile.

"Yes. We do what we can."

For a moment, Kazuya remained silent. He watched the endless sequence of images and sounds alternating on the old screen. There was no distinction of race, faith, or nationality. They were just… people. In their best and worst moments, all seeking something greater, even if only out of habit.

"This wasn't in the novel," he commented, his voice low.

Michael raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Novel?"

Kazuya shook his head, chuckling softly.

"Nothing…"

He then stood up, brushing imaginary dust off his pants, and turned back to the television.

"It's funny… I came here just out of curiosity. But seeing this now, I kind of understand your struggles even more…"

Michael said nothing, only following with his gaze.

Finally, Kazuya turned and walked toward the exit of the floating room, his steps lighter than when he arrived.

"Come on, Michael. We still have six heavens to see. If I stay here too long, I'll end up wanting to steal that television…"

Michael laughed, a rare and sincere sound, and followed behind him.

The silver portal opened once more, and the lazy clouds resumed their movement.

As they crossed the silver portal, the scenery around them changed again.

The Seventh Heaven was left behind, and soon they stood before a colossal structure that rose like a monument to the impossible—the Gate of the Sixth Heaven, where they had been earlier for the meeting. This one, in particular, had no flashy adornments or sacred carvings in gold. Its grandeur came from monumental simplicity: two enormous white marble doors, smooth as glass, without marks or inscriptions, with a dense and oppressive aura that seemed to distort the very space around them.

Kazuya stopped before those doors, his blue eyes taking in every detail. The Seventh Heaven, he noticed, had no specific location; Michael and, he assumed, the other archangels could access it whenever they wished…

He looked at the gate. From what he remembered of the novel's descriptions, only beings of divine level could cross it by force, without invitation or permission. Obviously, he had been granted permission to enter before the meeting that took place inside, and even if he hadn't, he could break that gate with a single punch…

At that moment, a gentle and enveloping presence approached.

Gabriel.

She smiled upon seeing Kazuya.

"Now it's my turn to accompany you, Kazu-chan…"

Kazuya grinned.

"I'll hold you to it if they're not interesting."

Gabriel giggled softly, covering her lips with the tips of her fingers.

Michael stepped forward, turning to Kazuya.

"I'll leave you here. I need to attend to some matters in the Third Heaven. You're always welcome to return whenever you wish, Kazuya-dono…"

"Alright. Thanks, Michael…"

The older Archangel vanished in particles of light.

Gabriel then delicately extended her hand toward Kazuya in an innocent gesture and said,

"Come on, Kazu-chan~?"

Kazuya took a step forward, his eyes half-closed against the brightness, and took her hand resignedly. From the little he knew of the little angel in front of him, he was sure she wouldn't give up on holding his hand to pull him along and show him the place.

"Let's go…"

Gabriel smiled excitedly and pulled Kazuya to show him the rest of the heavens.

.

.

.

.

.

The sky in Kyoto that morning was a pale blue, tinged with soft golden hues as the rising sun painted the clouds with its first strokes of light. The distant sound of bells echoed through the ancient city, mingling with the subtle scent of incense that drifted through the narrow stone streets.

The wooden houses, with their simple and elegant facades, recalled a time that seemed forgotten by the rest of the world. Small paper lanterns still swayed at the doors of some shops, even with the arrival of day, and the steam escaping from a nearby tea stall mingled with the cold morning air.

Following a stone path lined with cherry trees, which, even out of season, maintained an austere beauty, stood a temple. Its red torii, weathered by time and rain, drew considerable attention.

The Kōfukuji Temple remained serene amidst the city beginning to awaken. The stone steps, worn by centuries of prayers and cautious footsteps, led to an open courtyard where sacred fabric flags fluttered gently. At the center, a great ancient tree stood like a sentinel, its long branches protecting the offerings left at the base of its thick, gnarled trunk.

A young monk swept the fallen leaves with slow, rhythmic movements, while a young visitor, perhaps a student, judging by her impeccable uniform, silently observed the scene, as if time there flowed differently.

On the other side of the temple, beyond the low walls covered in ancient moss, stretched a forest. The tall trees, with their wide trunks and interwoven branches, filtered the sunlight into thin beams, creating dancing patterns on the leaf-covered ground. The sound of insects and the distant song of birds formed a soft, natural symphony.

But at that moment, this serene scene was interrupted by hurried footsteps and panting breaths.

"There! She ran this way!"

The hoarse voice of one of the men echoed among the trees.

Before them, a small figure ran lightly between roots and bushes, her golden-blonde hair swaying like threads of light in the wind. Tied in a high ponytail, the strands gleamed like gold under the few beams of sunlight that escaped through the treetops.

The little girl, who appeared no older than eleven or twelve, had equally radiant golden eyes, so bright they seemed to reflect the sky itself. Her nine fox tails, golden and shimmering, moved behind her like ethereal flames, scattering golden particles with every leap and turn.

Her traditional miko attire, an immaculate white and red garment, contrasted with the rustic forest environment. The haori she wore had wide sleeves adorned with a large red pentagram star, perfectly embroidered, surrounded by five smaller ones between its points. On her feet, she wore high geta sandals, which clacked against roots and stones, accompanied by the soft rustle of her white tabi socks.

Despite her small stature, about 142 centimeters, and delicate frame, her fox ears, erect and alert, caught every sound in the forest, and her tails swayed as if dancing with the wind.

"Damn, she's fast…!" complained the other man, panting.

The two pursuers, dressed in ordinary travelers' clothes but with visibly hostile expressions, struggled to advance through the trees.

The girl glanced quickly over her shoulder, her golden eyes flashing.

"I have to find my Oka-san…" she murmured, her childish voice carrying a high-pitched, worried tone.

The men quickly chased after her.

The dry leaves crunched under the girl's high geta, and the sound of her steps mingled with the panting of the men pursuing her. As agile and light as she was, fatigue began to weigh on her small body, and the distance between her and the two pursuers shrank with each moment.

"Heh… no use running, little girl!" mocked one of the men, his crooked smile distorting a face already cruel by nature. His eyes, an unnatural shade of amber yellow, made it clear he wasn't an ordinary human…

The other, more robust, wielded a curved blade and panted with a predatory gleam in his eyes. Though disguised as simple travelers, their presence carried the suffocating weight of the supernatural.

The little girl clenched her teeth, her chest heaving as she ran.

Why…? Why was I so stupid…?

Her mind echoed the words with a childish bitterness that mixed fear and regret. All she wanted that morning was to escape the endless lessons, ceremonies, and her mother's constant vigilance to spend some time playing alone. That forest, with its scent of earth and leaves, seemed perfect for it.

But… ever since she crossed the red torii of the ancient temple, she felt a strange sensation. A presence behind her. And when she finally noticed, it was too late.

"Damn… damn, damn!" she muttered through gritted teeth, her high-pitched voice almost breaking.

Her nine tails, once lively and vibrant, began to move irregularly, betraying her exhaustion.

The trees seemed denser, and the path ahead led to a ravine covered in thick bushes. She tried to stop, but tripped over a protruding root. The impact with the ground was cushioned by her tails, but the fall left her dazed. Her haori was dirtied with earth, and a thin line of blood trickled from her scraped knee.

"Hah… got you, brat!"

A chain hissed through the air.

She rolled to the side at the last moment, the chain wrapping around a thick branch beside her face.

The other man advanced with the blade in hand, his cruel smile widening.

Is this it…? Here? Like this?

Her small chest rose and fell irregularly, her golden eyes welling up. Not from pain, but from pure fear and regret.

If only I had listened to Oka-san…

She remembered her mother's gentle smile, the calm sound of her voice calling her name on summer mornings. The sweet scent of incense and the warmth of her hands when she stroked her ears. And now… all she felt was the strong smell of earth and blood mixed with the foul breath of her two attackers.

Her small hands gripped the hem of her haori, and for the first time, the cruel certainty of the adult and supernatural world reached her.

She was just a child.

And at that moment, she was alone.

"This is the end, little girl," hissed the man with the blade, raising his arm.

The little girl squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the blow.

But then… something changed.

The wind blew differently.

The sweet scent of plum blossoms intensified, mingling with the metallic tang of the blade and the sour smell of the men's sweat. The birds fell silent, and even the leaves, previously rustling, seemed suspended in the air.

Then, a soft, sweet, and drawn-out voice sounded, as if each word was savored before being spoken.

"Ara, ara… what an interesting sight I've stumbled upon here… two brutes cornering such an adorable little girl… what an indecent scene… fufufu."

The men turned, alarmed, and the little girl slowly opened her eyes, panting, sensing the intoxicating scent spreading through the clearing.

Before them, standing on a low branch of a tree, was a woman of exotic and captivating appearance. Her skin was pale with a slight purplish, almost silvery hue. Her hair was short and purple, reaching only her neck, with bangs sweeping across her forehead. Her eyes were bright purple, with red makeup painted just above them. Her horns seemed to flow naturally from her body, starting in the same pale tone as her skin and gradually turning wine-red. Her fangs were sharp and long compared to those of humans.

Wearing a form-fitting traditional kimono, decorated with elegant details and shades of violet, she balanced gracefully, holding a small sake flask in her delicate fingers, the liquid shimmering in faint pinkish tones.

Her lips curved into a lazy, mischievous smile.

"Who… who the hell are you?!" growled the man with the chain, sweat dripping down his forehead.

"Hmm… who? Ufufu, how rude to ask a lady's name without introducing yourselves… but I'll let it slide. I'm Shuten-Douji… an oni you should've kept your distance from, you know?" she said, bringing the sake flask to her lips and taking a small sip: "Though… it's too late for that now, isn't it?"

Her half-closed eyes gleamed with pure malice.

The other man tried to advance, blade raised: "Shut up and get out of here, you wench!"

It was the last thing he said.

In the blink of an eye, Shuten moved.

The sound of something slicing through the air, faster than sight itself, and then the man's neck was pierced by her claws. Blood sprayed in a grotesquely beautiful arc under the forest's light.

"Ah… fufufu. What a waste of good sake…" she commented, licking the blood from her slender fingers as if it were liquor.

The other man staggered back in panic.

"W-wait! I was just—"

Before he could finish, Shuten leaped like a shadow, her wide sleeves billowing, and with a horizontal slash of her claws, she severed his head.

The dull thud of the body falling was muffled by the leaves.

The little girl, still on the ground, stared at the scene with wide eyes and trembling tails.

The smell of blood was intense, mixed with the sweet scent of flowers and alcohol. The woman showed no hint of remorse, only a satisfied smile as she wiped her lips with the sleeve of her kimono.

"Ufufu… what an unpleasant scene for a creature as cute as you," she murmured, walking slowly toward the girl.

The little girl instinctively recoiled, her body trembling, her nine tails bristling.

"N-no… stay back…" she murmured, her voice faltering.

Shuten crouched before her, her crimson eyes glowing like embers in the forest's green twilight.

"Ahh… no need to be afraid, little one. I won't hurt you…" she said in that sweet, drawn-out voice, as if trying to soothe a child… but the malicious undertone made it hard to tell if it was affection or mockery.

She extended her blood-stained hand, and the little girl hesitated, but upon sensing the familiar scent of plums and the supernatural warmth of that presence, her instincts recognized something.

It wasn't kindness.

But it was safety.

The girl extended her small, trembling hand, and Shuten smiled with satisfaction.

"What a good girl. Fufufu… come, I'll take you back to your Oka-san before more vermin show up."

As the little girl slowly rose, still shaken by the brutality with which the oni had dispatched the two men, the place remained silent.

______________________:

(A/N: Author's Note

Yo, everyone!

This chapter was meant to be more of an interlude between the previous arc and the next one. Officially, it marks the end of the arc involving the demons, Asia, and Chaldea's debut in the story, which, by the way, I had a lot of fun writing. But heads up, what's coming next is about to crank the chaos up again.

The next arc will dive into the Youkai faction, but before you think it's just going to be another parade of Japanese folklore monsters, know this: the humans who attacked Kunou are hiding a pretty heavy plot twist. Yep — I've been holding onto that card since their first appearance.

I think it'll make a great transition arc before things get even crazier later on.

And while we're at it…

I want to hear from you guys: do you want more Lemon scenes sprinkled throughout the story, or should I keep the focus mostly on the plot and save the spicy stuff for the right moments? Let me know what you think.

Also, Yasaka for the harem? I'm honestly really tempted. Imagine the duo of Tamamo no Mae and Yasaka? Personally, I think it'd work incredibly well.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy what's coming next. Thanks so much for sticking with me!

By the way — this chapter has around 4,000 words, so it basically counts as two regular chapters. You're welcome. 😏

💬 And hey — want to just read ahead a bit?

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Anyway, thanks to everyone who's reading, supporting, and commenting.

You're the fuel (and the healthy emotional pressure) that keeps this going.

Now let me get back to the keyboard before I almost miss another deadline 😅

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See you in the next chapter! 🚀🔥