Iruma stood with his hands on his hips, looking down at the disheveled Asmodeus. A faint, amused smile danced across his lips.
"What a shame... You're just too weak to even scratch me."
"What did you say?!"
Asmodeus was practically trembling with rage. His eyes blazed with fury—if looks could kill, Iruma would've died a thousand times over.
But to Iruma, it was simply the truth.
He was a god playing among ants. The gap between them wasn't just heaven and earth—it was stardust and galaxies. If he wanted, he could kill even Sullivan with a single finger. But he wasn't here to dominate.
He was here to experience something.
He liked Iruma—the original character. And now that he'd taken his place, he wanted to live his story... in his own way.
The path forward? His path. His rules.
"I won't accept this!" Asmodeus roared. "If magic doesn't work—then I'll beat you with brute strength!"
His magic surged again. A flaming sword burst into life in his hand, the heat so intense that even the nearby demons were forced to back away.
"Face me, Iruma! Show me your real strength!"
Iruma yawned, completely unimpressed. "Ugh. This is getting boring~"
He'd seen this scene play out countless times in the anime. He had always liked Asmodeus. But now, he had to show him—show everyone—the difference between their worlds.
"Let's see you take this!!"
With a fierce war cry, Asmodeus charged. The flaming sword gleamed in the air, its heat distorting the surroundings.
Iruma didn't move.
He just stood there, arms crossed, completely still. Unshaken. Unworried.
That only fueled Asmodeus's rage.
Boom!
The flaming blade struck Iruma dead-on—and exploded in a shockwave of fire and smoke. The audience gasped, some too afraid to even keep their eyes open.
"Did something go wrong?!"
"This looks more like a one-sided beatdown than a duel..."
"There's no way the special student came out of that unscathed… right?"
But as the smoke slowly cleared... the truth left everyone stunned.
The one lying on the ground—completely unconscious—was Asmodeus.
Iruma? He stood tall. Not a scratch. Not even a speck of dust on him.
Absolute silence fell.
Then—chaos.
The student council quartet finally arrived on the scene, their eyes darting between the unconscious Asmodeus and the pristine Iruma.
"What the hell happened here?!"
"Special Student Iruma! Did you do this?!"
Fighting outside of official duels was strictly forbidden. The council wouldn't overlook that—even for someone like him.
But someone quickly stepped up in his defense.
"No, no, no! Lord Iruma never laid a finger on him!" a demon girl from the crowd said truthfully.
"Yeah, we can all vouch for that! He didn't even move!"
The council members were dumbfounded. If what they were hearing was true, this wasn't a two-sided fight. It was a solo suicide mission—and Asmodeus lost to someone who didn't even fight back.
Iruma's presence—his sheer, terrifying presence—was all it took to overwhelm the academy's top first-year.
And now, standing amid the stunned crowd, Iruma casually bent down and picked up Asmodeus like a sack of potatoes.
"H-Hey! What are you doing?! Let him go!" one of the council members shouted.
Iruma slowly turned to look at them.
His face—handsome beyond reason—was calm. But the weight behind that calm sent shivers down their spines. They felt it in their bones: an instinctual fear of something far beyond them.
Then, in a deadpan tone, he asked:
"Where's the infirmary?"
"Huh...?!"
"Wha—?!"
Every demon nearby gasped in disbelief. And in that moment, admiration erupted like wildfire.
This—this was a true strong demon.
Not only did he crush his opponent without lifting a finger, but he was also carrying him to the infirmary himself.
"I-It's... southwest corridor, first floor," one of the council members finally stammered. "I-I'll guide you...!"
"Thanks~" Iruma said with a teasing grin, tossing Asmodeus over his shoulder.
Gasps, whispers, and praises followed him as he walked away. Iruma didn't even bother hiding his satisfied smirk.
This feeling... this roar of admiration... this is it.Worship me. Tremble before me. I'll make sure the demon world remembers my name more than even Derkila's.
From above, Sullivan and Opera stood watching from a tall window.
Opera muttered quietly, "Is Iruma really human? He feels more like a monster... If I trained that body…"
"No, no," Sullivan chuckled, eyes gleaming. "Let my grandson walk his own path."
He watched Iruma's back as he carried the fallen Asmodeus. For a moment, the image overlapped with another—a memory from long ago. That same aura. That same dominance.
"A human... yet so powerful... how?"
And the news? It spread fast.
By the next day, Iruma's "opening act" had taken over every screen, scroll, and whisper across the school:
"Special Student Iruma's Atrocious First Day!"
• Reciting a forbidden spell during the opening ceremony.
• Crushing the first-year top student without lifting a finger.
• Walking away like it was just another Tuesday.
And just like that—
Iruma had become a legend.