Chapter 1:

Bad friends and hapless gods.

I became the Recordkeeper of the Second Holy War.

Two yankees scurried in an alley, trying to get a stolen motorbike to work without the keys. Takeda Hiro was a lanky fellow, while Abe Kazuya hit the gym nonstop. The first had brown hair gathered in messy and uneven dreadlocks, while the latter had bleached, short hair.

"Hey bro, get it done quick!" Hiro pleaded with a whimper, hands clasped together. One could swear he was about to pray fervently.

Kazuya Abe grunted in annoyance as he fiddled with the motorbike. He turned to the other yankee, and raised a single index finger at him. " Hiro, just shut your trap for a minute, and we will get a free ride home," he promised.

The moron didn't get the message. "But get it quick! They could get us!"

That last nagging broke the camel's back. Kazuya sprung upwards and smacked his friend's nape. "Then just man the fuck up, and tell your older brother that you broke his god damn bike!"

"Think, you moron!" Hiro headbutted Kazuya before reeling backwards. He moaned for a second, he hadn't thought this through, as per usual. "He is gonna kill me!"

Kazuya grabbed his friend by the shoulders, bringing them head to head again."And of course, stealing another bike and swap-" Kazuya began before his voice trailed off.

A policeman approached them, his expression filled with apprehension.

Kazuya's whole body stiffened at the question but he regained some composure."Act normally," Kazuya hissed softly at his friend.

Which was a big mistake. Hiro's eyes bulged outwards, almost leaving their orbits, and his jaw fell amidst a squealing cry of fear.

"The pigs are gonna get us!" He screamed as he ran away.

Kazuya followed suit as soon as he heard the cop's reaction."Wait there, come back here and explain yourselves!"

The two yankees ran at full speed and returned to the main street, bulldozing over the other passerbys.

"I should have spared your brother the trouble and broken that empty skull of yours!"

Hiro didn't pay attention. "Just cross the street!" He bellowed as he loped ahead.

Which, again, turned out to be a massive mistake. Kazuya, in the midst of the rush, didn't notice that the traffic light was red. And, given his luck, a truck was over him once he noticed the miscalculation.

The machine crashed against him, sending him skywards at a blinding speed, his broken limbs flailing until he crashed against the asphalt amidst a crimson spatter.

“Call an ambulance!”

“Oh god, l-look at that mess!”

An apprehensive crowd gathered around the teen’s mangled body. Nearby, the truck driver that had just run him over suffered a nervous breakdown from the horrible deed. The crowd murmured, fidgeted and took the odd photo, none daring to help the boy.

Kazuya felt his conscience slip by, his blood flowing out from a dozen gashes and punctured organs. He wheezed, coughing blood and some pink chunks. With the last slivers of his strength, the yankee turned around, trying and failing miserably to curse at that bunch of useless gawkers and the moron he called friend.

As his field of view darkened, and his body went limp, an old looking man approached. He knelt beside him and muttered. “Hm, this one will do.”

Kazuya would have wondered what the hell he was talking about, but by then he was sinking into blessed oblivion.


The first thing that Kazuya thought of was that hell had soft, comfortable beds.

Gentle sunrays bathed him, rousing him from placid sleep. The yankee writhed around, lazily savouring the moment before he finally remembered the accident.

He sprung, a surprised cry hurled across the room as Kazuya flailed around in confusion.

"Where am I ?!" He managed to cry out.

"In my home."

The simple, direct response elicited another surprised yell from the teen. Kazuya scrambled around, slamming his back against the wall and pressing his hands against it in one spastic move.

"Holy fucking shit, do you want to kill me with a heart attack or what!?" He shouted with a high strung voice, his chest heaving wildly from the surprise.

Kazuya was greeted by a woman of otherworldly beauty. Her simple white gown was the most regal and elegant of clothing. Her cascading azure mane was like the sea; her lips were a faint shade of pink, much like her vibrant eyes.

She made a curtsy at Kazuya, her smile revealing resplendent teeth, her demeanor brimming with unease.

"I am Zuen, though that is but one of the many names bestowed upon me," she greeted him. "You may call me a goddess, if it suits your fancy."

Before Kazuya could utter a word, Zuen snapped her fingers. Just as suddenly, the bed disappeared and morphed into a pair of chairs and a table; the walls crumbled down and a lush garden filled with fruit bearing trees and fountains sprouted in a matter of seconds.

"What in the actual fu-"

"Please sit," Zuen begged before Kazuya could finish the swear word. When he did so, the goddess followed suit and conjured a tea set out of thin air. "There is something I need to ask of you."

"Let me guess," Kazuya grabbed a cup and took a swig. "The world is on the verge of doom and I am the only one able to save it." He concluded with a smarmy grin.

"Oh no, I do not need anyone particularly specific, it's just-" frantically began the goddess before she pinched the bridge of her nose, her mouth contorting into a grimace. "How do I explain this? I need a catalyst."

"A what now?" Kazuya flinched at that. "Do we even speak the same language!?"

"To make it simple: I am too far to properly interact with, Granzen, my world, which is indeed facing an incoming calamity, though they do not know yet that it will or may happen," the goddess stammered as she wildly gesticulated at him. "In order to help my people I need to use a vessel from which I can remotely spread my gifts."

That barely made a lick sense to Kazuya. "So you want me to,-"

"I need you to act as a messenger of sorts so I can help my people!" Cut the increasingly agitated goddess. Kazuya shot her a surprised glance and she realized how much of a nervous wreck she was coming across.

"Will you let me finish a damn sentence!?” Kazuya shouted.

At that remark the goddess blushed. Her shoulders slumped in contrition and she uttered a barely audible apology.

“What’s in it for me?" Kazuya paused for a second. He was about to act a bit too belligerent, and his survival instinct told him to not try the goddess' patience. "Actually, if I were to refuse…"

The goddess stared at Kazuya for a brief moment. A sad smile graced her face and her shoulders shrunk ever so slightly. "You'd return to your original body and I'd have Susanoo heal your wounds."

"Say what again?" Kazuya flinched, baffled by such… such a reasonable stance. “I’d think you guys would just force this mess upon me."

"Like I said, I don't need a particular individual," calmly stated Zuen. She began to toy with her spoon, turning it around before dipping it back into the tea. "And while I'd rather not waste time and succor my people…"

She paused and left the cup aside. Kazuya noticed her trembling hands just before she wove them into a basket in an attempt to hide her fears.

"It is a dangerous task that you do not want to entrust willy nilly, one that you'd gladly take on your own if you could."

The goddess stared at Kazuya for a moment, her jaw almost falling to the ground. Kazuya had to suppress a chuckle, lest she forcefully conscripted him into this mess. He wanted to go home.

Where the cop awaits you.

The thought was fleeting, but once Kazuya realized the sheer shitshow that awaited him. He ran a hand against lips, weighing the charges that could fall upon him for this and previous incidents. Once he mentally made the list, he blanched for a second. This, he knew... this was the lesser evil. At least he could get something out of the goddess after this.

Kazuya rose and flippantly pounded his chest. "Very well, I will do it!" He started with a wry smile. "I will-umph!"

The goddess lurched towards him and hugged him tightly. She buried her head against his chest, and Kazuya could feel her tears fall down. "Thank you… just, thank you."

"This is awkward," Kazuya managed to say. The words caused the goddess to dart away from him. Her face was once again serious, regal, even.

"Let me bestow you the gift of my blood, a shard of divinity itself," she began, each word, each step, brimming with growing power. "Step forth, kneel and accept your right and burden."

Once Kazuya knelt, Zuen caressed his hand. A searing heat invaded his body; a blinding light assaulted his senses and engulfed him. He was burning, he was reaching the very heavens, he was feeling powerful and euphoric.

When the light finally settled in, Kazuya inspected his hand. There, spread over the back of his hand, were four pillars of vines fashioned like a cross.

"From today forth, you shall begin your new life as a Crusader...Now go!" She boldly proclaimed with a grandiose arm swipe. "Become a new beacon of hope."

"Hah, if you say so," Kazuya muttered. As he stepped forth unto the edge of the portal, he dared to taunt fate."What’s the worst that could happen?