Disclaimer: Just in case nobody realized I don't own nor do I claim ownership of Highschool DxD, all characters and worlds belong to their real world respective owners. I'm just having some fun, that's all.
Warning sexual content disclaimer: All characters and actions are above 18+
Highschool DxD: The Cursed King of Kuoh
S1 Ch 20: Reunion with a Nun
The Occult Research Club building stood quietly against the night, its modest exterior blending into the surrounding campus as if nothing extraordinary had occurred. To the human world, it was just another after-school club room, empty and dark. To those who had just returned from cleaning up the remnants of a battle, it felt like a sanctuary to unwind.
The air still carried traces of what had happened—faint ozone from discharged magic, the lingering sense of pressure left behind when powerful beings clashed. Even after barriers were restored and reality stitched neatly back into place, violence had a way of clinging to a location, soaking into the stones and the silence alike.
Rias Gremory walked ahead of the group, her posture rigid, steps sharp and purposeful. Her crimson hair swayed behind her, but the usual confidence in her stride was absent. Each step echoed her agitation, heels striking the pavement just a bit harder than necessary. Her hands were clenched at her sides, fingers curled tight as if holding onto thoughts she refused to voice.
Behind her, Kiba followed with his usual composure, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. His hands were still faintly raw beneath his gloves, knuckles scraped and sore. Koneko walked with quiet grace, expression unreadable, golden eyes flicking briefly to the shadows around them before returning forward. Akeno brought up the rear, her smile present out of habit rather than amusement, violet eyes thoughtful and unusually subdued.
"Has he tried to contact anyone?" Rias said at last, slowing near the building entrance. The statement sounded more like confirmation than a question.
"No," Kiba replied evenly. "He's still missing, and none of our messages received a reply."
Akeno let out a small hum, tilting her head. "Ara Ara…how very much like him."
Rias frowned. That answer did nothing but increase the unease twisting in her chest. She reached for the door, hesitation flickering for just a moment before resolve hardened her expression.
The door swung open, and warmth spilled out into the hallway, carrying with it the faint scent of steam and expensive soap. The lights were on. The room was not empty.
Sukuna stood near the counter, a white towel slung low around his waist, his upper body still damp from a recent shower. Water clung to his skin in slow-moving rivulets, catching the light as they traced old scars and lean muscle. His hair hung loose and dark around his face, moisture beading at the tips. In one hand, he held a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid glinting as he lazily tilted it.
He looked completely at ease.
"Yo," he said casually, lifting the glass in a loose, almost friendly greeting.
For a brief, disorienting second, Rias simply stared.
Akeno blinked, her smile faltering. Kiba stiffened, eyes snapping to Sukuna with a mix of surprise and unease. Koneko's gaze flicked away almost immediately, a faint scowl tugging at her lips. Rias moved without thinking, striding into the room as the door shut behind them with a firm click.
"Where did you go?" she demanded, her voice tight with restrained anger. "What happened to the Fallen Angel and the Exorcist?"
Sukuna took a slow sip of his drink, completely unconcerned by her tone. The whiskey burned pleasantly as it went down, warmth spreading through his chest.
"Oh, that?" he said, shrugging one shoulder. "The exorcist ran away like a cockroach after I gave him a love tap."
Rias's eyes narrowed. "And the Fallen Angel?"
He glanced toward the far side of the room, as though expecting something to be there. "Turned into a chew toy."
The silence that followed was thick and heavy.
Kiba frowned. "...A…Chew toy?"
"My dogs," Sukuna clarified, swirling what remained of the whiskey in his glass. "They were hungry."
Rias drew in a sharp breath, forcing herself to stay focused.
"That isn't the point," she snapped. "Why didn't you call for backup? Do you have any idea how reckless that was?"
Sukuna raised the glass again, already dismissing her. The sound of a slap cracked through the room.
The glass flew from his hand, shattering against the wall in an explosion of crystal and sound. Whiskey splashed across his chest and shoulder, droplets clinging briefly to his skin before sliding downward. Shards scattered across the floor, skittering and settling into sharp, accusing silence.
Rias stood rigid, arm still extended, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Answer me."
The air changed.
It wasn't dramatic—no surge of power, no violent aura—but the room felt heavier, as though an invisible weight had settled over it. Sukuna's expression remained calm, almost bored, yet something colder slid into place behind his gaze.
His blue eyes bled into red as he turned and gave Rias his full attention.
"I didn't call for help," he said evenly, his voice stripped of humor, "because I didn't need it."
He stepped forward once, then again, closing the distance until he stood well within Rias's personal space. He didn't touch her, but she could feel him—his warmth, the faint scent of soap and alcohol, the quiet pressure of his presence bearing down on her like an approaching storm.
"I am perfectly capable of killing two insects on my own."
"That's not the point I—" Rias started, then stopped as he spoke again.
"Then why are you upset?"
The question caught her off guard, her anger faltering for just a heartbeat. She opened her mouth, searching for words that suddenly refused to come easily.
"I'm upset because you're part of my peerage and my family," she said at last, forcing steadiness into her voice. "Because you're reckless. Because you could have been killed."
He stared at her for a long moment, before he started laughing. It wasn't loud or cruel. There was no mockery in it—only emptiness.
"No," he said calmly. "You weren't worried about me."
Her brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"
"You were worried about your investment."
The word struck harder than any raised voice.
"I don't—"
"You wanted my power," he interrupted, voice smooth and precise. "To fix a problem you were too weak and too incapable of handling yourself."
Akeno shifted uneasily. "Sukuna-kun, that's enough—"
"Shut up," he said without looking at her.
Rias shook her head. "That isn't true."
He tilted his head slightly, studying her. "Really? Alright then."
He leaned in just a fraction closer.
"What's my dream for the future?"
Rias froze. Her lips parted, but no answer came.
"…I don't know."
"What's my little sister's name?"
Her throat tightened. Still nothing.
He exhaled softly, a humorless sound. "Do you even know my favorite color?"
The silence stretched, heavy and unforgiving.
"You see?" he said quietly. "You don't see me as family. Or even a person."
His voice hardened. "I'm a tool. That's all I ever was to you."
"You're a selfish, spoiled brat," Sukuna continued, leaning closer, his words low and deliberate. "You think you're the only one with problems and then expect everyone to cater to your wants and needs just because you smile and ask nicely."
Rias stood frozen, shock rooting her in place. The truth of his words pressed down on her chest, leaving her breath shallow and uneven.
Kiba stepped forward instinctively. "That's enough—"
"I said shut up," Sukuna snapped, finally turning his gaze toward him before turning back to Rias. "I'll honor our deal, and help you with your engagement. But don't insult me with the fake friends act anymore."
The room fell deathly quiet.
Shadows crept across his body, pooling at his feet before crawling upward, swallowing him whole. When they receded, the towel was gone, replaced by a black turtleneck, a navy blazer, dark pants, and polished shoes. Clean. Controlled. Immaculate.
He looked at them once more, his expression unreadable.
"See you around."
The shadows folded inward, and he vanished.
The room felt colder in his absence.
Rias sank slowly into a chair, hands trembling in her lap, staring at the empty space where he had stood.
None of them spoke.
The Occult Research Club room felt empty without his presence. As if something sharp and dangerous had been ripped out, leaving behind a vacuum that pressed against the walls and crawled under their skin. The lights hummed faintly overhead, steady and indifferent, illuminating overturned chairs, shattered glass still scattered across the floor, and the faint scent of whiskey lingering in the air.
Rias Gremory stared where Sukuna had left.
She tried to rise from the chair, but her legs gave out, as though her strength had simply… drained away. Her hands rested in her lap, fingers trembling despite her efforts to still them. The words replayed in her mind with merciless clarity—each accusation precise, each one cutting deeper because she couldn't deny them.
"A tool. An investment. You don't see me as a person."
She swallowed hard, her throat tight, chest aching with something dangerously close to panic. She had faced monsters, ancient devils, and political disasters without flinching—but this? This felt worse. This was a mirror she hadn't wanted to look into.
Akeno hovered nearby, her playful demeanor gone entirely. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, uncertain of what comfort—if any—would be welcome. Kiba stood stiffly by the window, fists clenched at his sides, jaw tight with restrained frustration. Koneko remained near the far wall, arms crossed, eyes lowered, not even touching the bag of sweets she had with her.
"I didn't mean…" Rias whispered, though no one had accused her aloud.
Her voice cracked, but before anyone could respond, the air shifted. Magic flared briefly at the edge of the room—controlled, precise, unmistakably refined. The space distorted just enough to announce an arrival before resolving itself.
Sona Sitri stepped into the ORC room with Tsubaki at her side, clipboard already in hand, expression sharp and coiled with irritation. The moment her eyes swept over the damage—the broken glass, the lingering residue of power—her frown deepened.
"This is unacceptable," Sona began coolly. "Do you have any idea how much damage was reported across the city? Several skyscrapers—"
Sona suddenly stopped mid-sentenced. Rias didn't even rise to greet her; she just looked at her with a pained expression.
"S-sorry" she stuttered.
The words were quiet, heavy, and utterly sincere, making Sona blink.
The rant she'd clearly prepared stalled in her throat, confusion flickering across her composed expression. Tsubaki stiffened slightly, eyes darting between the two Devil Kings as if recalibrating expectations in real time.
"…Sorry?" Sona repeated.
Rias straightened slowly, her eyes dull with exhaustion rather than defiance. "The damage. Sukuna's actions. I should have handled him better. I'll take responsibility."
For a moment, the only sound in the room was the low hum of the lights.
Sona's irritation evaporated, replaced by something closer to concern. She glanced toward the others. "What happened?"
Akeno answered first, her voice subdued. "They fought. Not physically but some words were shared."
Sona's grip on her clipboard tightened. She inhaled slowly, then let it out, visibly swallowing the sharp reprimand she'd come prepared to deliver. "I… see."
She turned back to Rias, her tone softer. "I shouldn't have come in yelling. I apologize."
Rias nodded faintly but said nothing.
"What are you going to do about him?" Sona asked after a moment.
The question was stripped of authority. It wasn't a command or a demand—it was a plea, bare and uncertain. She looked at Sona not as a rival, but as someone who might have answers she didn't.
"I don't know what to do anymore," she admitted. "I don't know how to reach him. Or if I even can."
Sona studied her carefully, adjusting her glasses as she thought. The room waited.
"You're trying to pull loyalty without offering understanding," Sona said at last. "And that doesn't work—especially with someone like him."
Rias flinched slightly but didn't interrupt.
"You expected him to open up because you asked," Sona continued evenly. "Because you're kind. Because you're his King. But loyalty isn't automatic. And trust isn't a resource you can demand."
She folded her arms. "You have to give him a reason."
Rias looked down at her hands. "I thought I was."
"You gave him a role," Sona corrected. "A purpose. A problem to solve. That's not the same thing as seeing him."
She paused, choosing her words carefully. "Understanding is a two-way street. If you want him to treat you as more than a boss… then you need to stop treating him like a solution."
Silence settled again, but this time it wasn't one of emptiness but of contemplation.
Rias leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling as Sona's words sank in. Images surfaced unbidden—meetings, files, power evaluations, strategies built around Sukuna's abilities. She could recall every detail of his combat potential, every threat assessment, every projected outcome.
But beyond that?
Nothing.
No hobbies, attachments, or even dreams. Her chest tightened at the realization.
"I never actually tried to know him," she realized quietly. "Not really."
Sona gave a small nod. "Then start there."
Rias closed her eyes briefly, inhaling slowly before letting the breath out. When she opened them again, something had shifted—not confidence, not certainty, but resolve.
"I will," she said softly. "I'll do better."
She didn't know if it would be enough. She didn't know if Sukuna would even give her the chance. But for the first time since he'd arrived in her world, Rias wasn't thinking about what she needed from him.She was thinking about what he might need, and that, she realized, was where understanding actually began.
o-O-o
The following day Sukuna didn't go to school.
The city breathed around him as he sat on a park bench tucked beneath the shade of a broad-leafed tree. Late morning sunlight filtered through the canopy above, dappling the ground in uneven patches of gold.
Somewhere nearby, children laughed, the sound distant and muffled, as if belonging to a different world entirely. The smell of cut grass mixed with food from street vendors, warm and faintly greasy.
For once, there were no devils watching him from rooftops. No barriers humming at the edge of his senses. No expectations pressing down on his shoulders.
Just quiet.
He leaned back against the bench, arms folded, eyes half-lidded, letting the noise of the city wash over him without meaning. Thoughts came and went without sticking. Rias' face surfaced briefly—tight with shock, pale with realization—before he pushed it away.
Then a voice spoke.
"Sukuna."
Soft. Careful. Almost timid.
His eyes snapped open, he slowly turned his head—and froze.
Asia Argento stood a few steps away, hands folded nervously in front of her, white maid uniform pristine against the green of the park. The sunlight caught in her blonde hair, turning it almost luminous. She looked utterly out of place, like a misplaced memory.
"…Asia?" he said, frowning. "What are you doing here?"
She blinked, clearly startled that he'd responded so quickly, then smiled hesitantly. "I was hoping I'd find you."
The two left the park and found a nice little restaurant to talk. The building was small and unassuming, tucked between a bookstore and a laundromat. The air inside was thick with the scent of grilled meat and fried onions, warmth settling into the bones in a way that felt strangely intimate. They sat across from one another in a vinyl booth, the table between them crowded with paper wrappers and trays.
Asia stared down at her meal as if it might suddenly leap up and attack her.
"It's… very big," she said softly, eyes wide as she examined the hamburger in front of her. "I've never seen one before. How do I eat it?"
Sukuna watched her for a moment before answering.
"You just grab it with both hands and bite off as much as you can," he replied.
She looked up at him, uncertain. "All at once?"
He shrugged. "That's the idea."
Asia hesitated, then leaned forward and took a careful bite. Her eyes widened instantly, delight blooming across her face as she chewed.
"It's delicious!" she said, far too loudly, then laughed and covered her mouth.
Sukuna didn't touch his food.
He sat back, elbows resting on the table, studying her instead—the way she leaned forward with genuine interest, the way she savored each bite as if it were something precious. There was no fear in her. No calculation. Just simple enjoyment.
Eventually, he spoke. "Why are you here?"
The question halted her mid-bite.
She set the burger down carefully, hands folding in her lap. "I'm leaving," she said. "The Fallen Angels."
His brow creased. "Why?"
She hesitated. "I learned they were trying to eliminate you."
He stared at her. "And that made you leave?"
She nodded. "Yes."
"Why?" he pressed. "Why do you care?"
She met his gaze without flinching. "Because you're a good person."
For the first time that day, something cracked through his composure.
His eyes widened just slightly. "You're a terrible judge of character," he said flatly. "Me and the word good don't belong in the same sentence."
Asia frowned—and promptly thumped him on the head.
"Hey."
"You are," she insisted, pouting. "I know you are."
For a heartbeat, her face overlapped with another—smaller, younger, smiling with the same stubborn kindness. A sister he had long since left behind.
He looked away.
"You're too kind for your own good," he muttered.
She nodded immediately. "I hear that a lot."
They left the restaurant and wandered around for a bit.
Through arcades filled with flashing lights and electronic music, Asia gasped in delight as claw machines swallowed coins and refused to give prizes. Along the riverbanks where she crouched eagerly to watch crawfish skitter through shallow water. Into a small archery range where Sukuna casually loosed an arrow straight through the center of the target, the solid thunk echoing sharply.
Asia stared at the bullseye, mouth open. "That was amazing!"
He shrugged. "It's not hard."
To her, it clearly was.
As the afternoon wore on, they found another bench overlooking the water. The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in soft orange and pink hues. The city felt slower here, gentler.
After a while, Sukuna spoke again. "Tell me about your life."
Asia hesitated, then nodded. "I was abandoned as a baby," she said quietly. "Left in front of a church."
She told him about the puppy—how she'd tried to save it, how her power had awakened in desperation. About being called a saint. About healing a devil and being cast out as a heretic for it.
As she spoke, Sukuna listened.
He didn't interrupt when she wondered aloud if she truly was a heretic. When she questioned whether she had done something wrong.
"You didn't," he said simply.
She looked at him.
"Freedom," he continued, gaze fixed on the water. "Is choosing for yourself. Not following rules written by people who benefit from them. If that makes you a heretic… then the word doesn't mean much."
Asia listened, eyes wide.
"We're not that different," he finished.
She smiled at him then—soft, hopeful, sincere.
He turned to her. "What's your dream?"
She didn't hesitate. "I don't want to be alone," she said. "I want lots of friends. I want to get to know them and do fun things together."
Something twisted quietly in his chest.
He was about to speak—about to offer her shelter, safety, something close to a promise—when the world suddenly darkened.
Sukuna stood abruptly, posture snapping rigid as his senses flared. The air felt wrong—heavy, charged, crawling with hostile intent. His eyes burned as blue bled into red.
Asia looked up, startled. "Sukuna? What's wrong?"
A voice answered instead.
Deep. Smooth. Feminine.
"Found you."
Asia gasped as shadows crossed the ground. She looked up just in time to see two figures descending from the sky—wings spread wide. Eisheth hovered above, smiling thinly. Beside her, Kalawarner watched silently, a light spear resting easily in her grip.
The park fell silent, and whatever peace Sukuna had found that day shattered completely. The air vibrated with hostile intent.
Sukuna stepped forward instinctively, placing himself between Asia and the two Fallen Angels hovering above the park. His posture was loose, hands still buried in his pockets, but every muscle beneath the fabric had gone taut. His eyes burned red, locked onto the figures descending slowly from the sky.
Eisheth tilted her head slightly, gaze flicking past him to the trembling nun behind. "Asia," she said coolly. "Why did you run?"
Asia swallowed, fingers clutching the hem of her apron. "I don't want to be part of your schemes anymore," she said, voice shaking but firm. "I don't want to hurt people."
Eisheth's lips curved into a faint, dismissive smile. "What you want is irrelevant. You'll be coming back with us."
"No," Sukuna said flatly.
Eisheth's eyes finally focused on him.
For a moment, her expression was merely curious. Then recognition struck—and her aura flared violently, light rippling around her wings like a shockwave.
"Oh good," she said softly, her smile sharpened. "So you're the one who killed my sister, and Dohnaseek."
Sukuna blinked once. "You're gonna have to be more specific," he replied lazily. "I've killed a lot of sisters."
His gaze narrowed as he studied her more closely—the shape of her face, the angle of her eyes, the echo of something familiar in her presence.
Then he laughed.
"No way," he said. "You're that weakling's sister?"
Eisheth's composure shattered.
"Kalawarner," she snarled. "Get the nun."
Kalawarner moved instantly, wings snapping open as she dove.
While Sukuna vanished.
The impact came a second later—his heel crashing into Kalawarner's face mid-flight. Bone cracked audibly as she was hurled sideways, smashing into a stone statue with enough force to pulverize marble. Debris rained down around her as she slid to the ground in a cloud of dust.
Sukuna landed lightly, hands in his pockets as if nothing had happened. He turned to Eisheth and pulled one hand out, crooked two fingers in a mocking gesture.
"Your turn."
Eisheth answered by summoning a spear of condensed light, radiant and shrieking as it tore through the air. She surged forward, driving it toward his chest.
Sukuna swatted at it without thinking, but pain surged through his body.
The spear didn't deflect—it bit, searing through his flesh like molten glass. The shock forced a sharp hiss from his teeth as he twisted away at the last second, flipping backward and landing beside Asia with a heavy skid.
The smell of burned flesh filled the air.
Asia gasped. "Sukuna—you're hurt!"
She reached for him, hands glowing—
"I've got it," he snapped.
Cursed energy surged as he activated Reverse Cursed Technique. Flesh knitted, burns sealing themselves in seconds. Eisheth's eyes widened slightly.
"So that moron was telling the truth," she murmured. "Now I understand how my sister fell to you."
Sukuna smirked. "Speaking of her—she kept screaming a name before she died. Eisheth, right?"
Her expression darkened.
"Why didn't you answer?" he continued softly. "Why weren't you there to save her?"
The air screamed as Eisheth lunged while Sukuna moved at the same time. The two of them collided midair.
Fists, knees, wings—every exchange detonated with raw force as they traded blow for blow, shockwaves rippling outward. Eisheth was fast—faster than anyone he'd faced so far—and for the first time since the bug stray devil, Sukuna found himself facing someone who could actually keep up with him.
She summoned spears by the dozen, hurling them in a blazing storm.
Sukuna snarled, cursed energy flooding his arm as he unleashed a supercharged Dismantle. With a single sweeping motion, the slashes tore through the incoming light, shredding each spear into fragments that dissipated harmlessly.
Eisheth's eyes widened—
"Too late." he said.
Sukuna appeared above her, shoulder slamming into her throat in a brutal clothesline. She was driven straight down, crashing into the ground with an earth-shaking impact that left a crater in the park.
He pinned her to the ground with his heel. Slowly he raised his right hand high
"Say hello to your sister."
Just as he was about to bring it down, pain surged through his body as a blue spear punched through his back, erupting from his chest in a spray of blood. His breath hitched violently as he staggered forward, coughing, vision blurring.
Kalawarner stood behind him, bloodied but grinning. "That's for my friends."
To her shock he didn't die instantly. He turned and backhanded her across the face.
The blow sent her crashing through a stone pillar, masonry exploding as she vanished into rubble. Sukuna reached down, tore the spear from his body, and crushed it in his fist, light shattering like glass.
He stepped toward Kalawarner, deciding to finish her off first. As he was about to unleash a cleave slash his hand was severed mid-motion.
The severed limb hit the ground with a wet thud.
Sukuna turned slowly, eyes blazing as Eisheth stood once more, spear of light in hand, her six wings spread wide. He reached to activate Reverse Cursed Technique—
When she opened a bottle and splashed holy water across his face.
Agony unlike anything he'd felt tore through him, skin burning as if stripped raw. He roared, staggering back trying to heal his eyes and regain his vision when Eisheth hurled her spear, piercing his shoulder and pinning him hard against a stone pillar.
He strained—but his body wouldn't respond fast enough.
Eisheth approached calmly.
Asia screamed. "Stop!"
She ran forward trying to get between them, but was struck aside with a casual backhand, crashing into the grass.
"Run Asia," Sukuna rasped, blood dripping from his mouth still blind.
Eisheth smiled as she grabbed his chin, forcing his head up. "I was just going to kill you," she whispered. "But now? I think I'll make you suffer like I did."
She glanced toward Asia. "I'll start with her."
Something primal surged inside him, but was quickly extinguished when she stabbed him again—this time deep into the stomach.
"Consider that my parting gift."
She turned, gripping Asia by the hair and dragging her toward a forming teleportation circle. Kalawarner joined her, battered but smug, blowing Sukuna a mocking kiss.
The light swallowed them.
"Sara—" he tried to say, reaching out—
Darkness took him.
A teleportation circle flared crimson.
Rias emerged into the wreckage, eyes widening in horror as she spotted him pinned and bleeding. She used her power of destruction to erase the light spears then rushed forward, dropping to her knees, cradling his head against her chest.
"Sukuna," she whispered, voice breaking.
He didn't respond.
Trembling, she formed another circle beneath them, magic flaring desperately as they vanished from the ruined park—leaving behind shattered stone, scorched earth, and the echo of a battle that would not be forgotten.
o-O-o
The room was dark, lit only by the low glow of protective sigils etched into the walls.
Sukuna lay unconscious on the bed, his body still, breath shallow but steady. Bandages wrapped his torso and shoulder, layered over healing magic that had already done what it could. The smell of antiseptic and ozone hung faintly in the air, mingling with the quiet hum of wards designed to keep even nightmares at bay.
Rias sat beside him. She hadn't left since bringing him back.
Her hands rested in her lap, fingers twisting together as she stared at his face—pale now, drawn in a way she'd never seen before. The arrogance, the sharp-edged confidence, the infuriating calm that always surrounded him were gone. In their place was something raw and vulnerable, something she realized with a jolt that she had never truly imagined him capable of showing.
She thought of his words again.
I'm not your friend. I'm your tool.
Her chest tightened.
She reached out hesitantly, then stopped herself, her hand hovering just above his arm. For once, she didn't know what the right move was. Orders meant nothing here. Authority was useless. All she had left was regret—and the sinking realization that it had taken losing him to understand how badly she'd failed.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, though she didn't know if he could hear her. "I didn't see you."
She then stood up and began stripping out of her clothes, becoming as naked as the day she was born. Her breasts bounced as she took off her lacy red bra and matching panties. She then slipped into the bed with him, burying his head between her breasts as she activated devil healing.
"Whoever is responsible for this," she whispered into his ear, "will suffer a thousand deaths."
Sukuna didn't respond, his breath remaining steady as the devil healing began repairing his body.
A/N: If you like this story and what to read ahead chapters 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28 and 29 are already available for Patrons.
Just go to to Google and type in RoguePrince69 and click the link.