Milim's head emitted a thin wisp of smoke, curling like a small volcano erupting, her thoughts evaporating entirely. That was Milim—brilliant in her own chaotic way, yet incapable of serious deliberation for long. Atem observed silently, his golden gaze sharp, calculating the swirling storm of emotions in the room.
"Hahaha! Very well!" Guy Crimson's laughter rang through the hall, rich and dangerous. "From today onwards, Frey and Karion are no longer Demon Lords. You may serve Milim without objection."
No one voiced opposition. Atem made no motion or comment; he simply watched, letting the weight of his presence settle over the hall.
And so it was that Atem's coronation as a Demon Lord was formally recognized. At the same time, three Demon Lords were removed from the ranks: one permanently destroyed, two now bound directly to Milim's command. The so-called Ten Great Demon Lords had become the Eight Great Demon Lords, though the title alone now felt hollow.
"I see… so we are no longer the Ten Great Demon Lords," Atem murmured casually, almost under his breath.
The assembled lords froze, turning their eyes toward him.
"That is… a problem," Dagruul said, his deep voice rumbling with reluctant calculation. "Our dignity is tied to the name. We must… think of a new one."
Atem tilted his head, golden eyes flickering. Really? A name is more important than reality itself? he thought, almost amused. The assembly of the strongest beings in the world, and their priority was a title.
"Humans gave you the name originally, didn't they?" Atem asked softly, yet the sound carried enough weight that all eight lords paused to consider.
"They spent three months deciding 'Ten Great Demon Lords' last time… How exhausting," Luminus muttered, her composure faltering slightly under Atem's piercing observation. "They had humans to decide for them, but still… dissatisfaction lingered."
A tense silence filled the chamber. Atem's presence alone compressed the room, making every lord hyper-aware of the subtle power dynamics. Guy, however, chuckled and raised his hands.
"Calm yourselves! This is exactly the time for cooperation—something you don't normally show. Let us put our heads together!"
"Eh… Eight Great…" Ramiris started, only to be instantly silenced by the muted but oppressive pressure radiating from the others. Hastily, she corrected herself. "Indeed! Guy is right! We must cooperate!"
But demon lords are never truly cooperative. Atem could feel their reluctance like a living thing, clawing against the fragile order.
"Wahahahaha! I leave that to you!" one barked.
"I have no interest. Do as you will," another said flatly.
Atem noted the subtle tension between chaos and obedience; every lord calculating how far they could bend before breaking. The atmosphere was electric.
Veldora, standing behind Atem, broke the awkward silence with a lazy grin. "If you're going to be deciding names, leave it to my friend here. He's good at these things."
Atem's lips curved faintly, a flash of amusement. He ignored Veldora's praise but caught Ramiris trying to seize the opportunity. Not yet, he thought. Her intentions were transparent: she hoped to assign herself as the authority behind the title. Atem's eyes narrowed subtly, a silent warning she did not fail to notice.
All hopeful gazes in the hall eventually settled on him. Atem's silence pressed down on the room like a tangible force. Guy leaned forward, voice coaxing but edged with command.
"Atem. You have been acknowledged as a new Demon Lord today. I will grant you the honor of giving us a new name! A task of immense importance. Naturally, you will accept, yes?"
Atem remained perfectly still, allowing the weight of anticipation to grow, his eyes scanning each Demon Lord, calculating the subtle nuances of their pride, fear, and ambition.
"You are the reason our numbers were reduced. Take responsibility and give us a name," Guy continued, the aura around him sharpening, a silent nudge to force Atem's hand.
Golden eyes narrowed. Atem spoke, voice calm yet full of quiet authority: "All right. Fine. I will do this. But hear me—don't complain about it afterwards."
Relieved murmurs swept across the hall. Some lords even gestured to the maids to refill their tea, leaving the task entirely to Atem. Eight Demon Lords waited, silent but curious, for the decree of their new title.
Atem closed his eyes briefly, feeling the threads of power and loyalty in the room. Then, with a voice that commanded attention without demanding it:
"What about… the Octogram Demon Lords?"
He let the words hang in the air, letting the lords contemplate the imagery: an eight-pointed star, balanced and precise, yet radiating a sense of inevitability.
The room went silent, each lord's mind dissecting the term, weighing its symbolism, its power, its implication. Atem observed every flicker of doubt, every spark of approval, every subtle envy and calculation.
Finally, one by one, the lords opened their eyes. Approval—and awe—radiated outward.
"It's decided. Splendid," Guy said, clapping his hands together with a grin.
"Nothing is better than this. A new era begins!" Milim's laughter rang across the hall, raw and energetic.
"I knew it! I believed Atem would succeed!" Luminus exclaimed, her voice trembling slightly under the weight of respect.
"As expected of him!" Dagruul rumbled, shaking his massive head with reluctant admiration.
Even the subtle observers—the quiet strategists, the normally cynical lords—found themselves acknowledging the precision and authority with which Atem had navigated the chaotic politics of Walpurgis. Three months of human deliberation could not rival a single decisive moment orchestrated by Atem's mind and presence.
In that instant, the balance of power in the world had shifted. The Octogram Demon Lords had been born, and Atem had proven: in a world ruled by strength, cunning, and will, authority is not granted—it is seized, and none could challenge him without consequence.
No objections arose. Good. Atem's eyes swept over the assembled Demon Lords, noting their expressions, their subtle shifts in posture, their unspoken calculations. Had anyone dared dissent, he might have allowed Guy Crimson to propose a name himself—though part of him genuinely wanted to see what three months of their deliberation had produced. What had they been doing all this time? he wondered.
From this day forward, the Demon Lords were feared and recognized as the Octogram Demon Lords:
Daemon: "Lord of Darkness" Guy Crimson
Dragonoid: "Destroyer" Milim Nava
Pixie: Ramiris of the "Labyrinth"
Giant: "Earthquake" Dagruul
Vampire: "Queen of Nightmares" Luminus Valentine
Fallen Angel: "Sleeping Ruler" Deeno
Human-Magicker: "Platinum Devil" Leon Cromwell
Pharaoh: Atem, the Sovereign of Eternity
Atem allowed himself a faint smirk. The title suited him well, though he had no illusions about the weight it carried. This was not a title to be flaunted—it was a declaration, a statement of absolute authority in a world where strength dictated order.
Recognition came with responsibilities. The division of territories proceeded with meticulous precision. Atem's dominion encompassed the entire Great Forest of Eterna, a grant unprecedented for a newly recognized Demon Lord. Milim now nominally ruled over the territories of Frey, Karion, and the late Clayman, though she delegated their management to her subordinates.
Not all Demon Lords maintained fixed territories. Some were wanderers; some concealed their holdings. Atem had no illusions about knowing them all. Yet each had been given a Demon Ring, a tool for instant communication and a conduit for the Summoning Door, allowing instantaneous arrival at Walpurgis. Atem examined his ring, noting its elegance and the faint aura of divinity embedded within.
Independent arrivals… potentially dangerous in unprepared hands, he mused, though he dismissed the thought. Worrying over such minor details would only drain him.
With Clayman's schemes concluded, and the new hierarchy cemented, Atem settled into his role as a Demon Lord.
Guy Crimson observed quietly from his throne of shadowed authority, a faint, calculating smile on his lips. The newly recognized Octogram radiated raw power. The balance of forces had been stabilized, and Guy had no doubt that when the Great War erupted, they would have the advantage. Victory or defeat was always a gamble, but he preferred to stack the odds in their favor.
Reports from Deeno indicated that the Eastern Empire was amassing forces at an unprecedented pace. Troops once annihilated by Veldora were being rebuilt, stronger and more disciplined than ever. Beyond them lurked the shadow of the Scorching Dragon Velgrind, a force that could intervene at any moment.
The coming conflict was a stage, and the Demon Lords were the pawns and kings of the world's chessboard. The stakes were absolute. Every strategy, every alliance, every clash of power would be magnified, and the consequences could ripple across existence itself.
Guy's gaze shifted to the newly assembled Ultimate powers:
Atem, unknown power....
Milim with Satanael, Lord of Wrath, a cataclysmic force of pure destruction.
Guy himself with Lucifer, Lord of Pride, a skill of dominance and manipulation unmatched in scope.
Together, these three represented the pinnacle of Ultimate power, a triumvirate whose clash alone could reshape the world.
Deeno carried Sloth, Luminus bore Lust, and promising candidates like Shion exhibited growth potential that could rival a full Demon Lord. Atem could sense subtle currents of Envy stirring in Frey, Karion, and Shion—a latent power that could either elevate them or destroy them if mismanaged.
Guy Crimson, always calculating, allowed himself a brief moment of anticipation. Atem's arrival had disrupted the balance, yet it had also created opportunities. Chaos and strategy intertwined. The Octogram had been born, but they were far from complete.
This is only the beginning, Atem thought, his calm eyes sweeping over the other Lords. Power is the only truth in this world. Survival will be earned, not gifted.
The Great War loomed on the horizon, and with the Octogram Lords assembled, every move, every calculation, every hidden ambition could tip the scales of fate. Atem's mind already churned with strategies, alliances, and contingencies. His reign had begun—not with words, but with the quiet, unshakable presence of absolute strength.