Iruma's second week at Babyls was dominated by two inescapable realities: being the vassal-master of the Misfit Class and the master-contractor of a miniature, perpetually furious Kalego-sensei.
Every morning, tiny Kalego would wake Iruma by aggressively headbutting his ear, and every class involved Iruma having to quickly suppress a magical flare-up just to keep his familiar from violently expressing his rage.
Delkira, realizing that Iruma's public life had accelerated far beyond the initial plan, stepped up his guidance. He couldn't be physically present, but he would communicate with Iruma nightly through hidden magical communication spells embedded in Iruma's mirror.
"Iruma," Delkira's solemn voice echoed softly from the mirror one night,
"you must learn to control the output of your non-verbal power. You are not meant to command objects—that is not our bloodline power. You are meant to command life and loyalty. That incident with Kalego was an accidental overflow of your true potential."
"But Dad," Iruma pleaded, looking worriedly at his glowing reflection,
"what is my true bloodline power?"
Delkira paused.
"That is a secret, even from me, until you fully unlock it at sixteen. For now, focus on suppression. Every act of kindness you show is a counter-spell to the darkness of your blood. It is your mother's strength."
***
The inevitable finally arrived. Delkira, having stabilized the political turmoil created by his sudden reappearance and the embarrassing display of his son's power, called for a Grand Gathering of the Thirteen Crowns.
This was the first time Iruma would officially meet the entirety of the Netherworld's nobility—the most powerful and ambitious demons in existence.
The event was held in the Throne Room, a cavernous space where every shadow seemed to hold a secret. Iruma, accompanied by a jovial Grandpa Sullivan and a stoic Opera, stood near the back, dressed in immaculate formal wear. He was nervous; the sheer density of powerful demonic auras in the room made the air feel thick and heavy.
The gathering began with Delkira, seated on his obsidian throne, offering a brief, regal explanation for his "prolonged sabbatical"—a masterclass in understatement and supreme confidence that only the Demon King could pull off. He commanded their loyalty and immediately settled into the mundane, accumulated paperwork, demonstrating that even a King must deal with taxes and treaties.
Then, Sullivan took the opportunity to introduce his "grandson."
"My esteemed colleagues!" Sullivan boomed, drawing all eyes to the trembling Iruma.
"Allow me to introduce the future of Babyls—my adorable grandson, Iruma!"
The Thirteen Crowns examined Iruma with hawk-like intensity. They saw a polite, nervous boy with striking blue eyes, a stark contrast to the aggressive, powerful demons of the nobility.
* Amduscias Poro, still recovering from the shock of Delkira's return, burst into theatrical tears. "Oh, little darling! Such a sweet grandchild! Does he know where Del-chan keeps the good tea?"
* Belial Ba'al, the embodiment of icy ambition, merely sneered. "A common-looking boy. Hardly fitting to be a top demon's descendant."
* Murmur Zagan, focused entirely on Delkira, barely glanced at him. "The boy is irrelevant, Principal. The King's work is all that matters."
Iruma, trying his best to appear respectful and non-threatening, endured the scrutiny. It was overwhelming, but he focused on the tiny, reassuring feeling of Kalego-familiar still clinging to his shoulder.
The most unnerving encounter came from Vepar, a powerful, seductive demoness known for her sharp intellect. She approached Iruma, her gaze piercing.
"You have a fascinating aura, little one. So much power, yet you choose to suppress it. You intrigue me."
Iruma, remembering his father's warning to deflect without lying, simply gave a polite, practiced bow. "Thank you for the compliment, ma'am. I only wish to learn and grow here at Babyls."
Delkira, watching from the throne, felt a surge of pride mixed with growing unease. His son handled the scrutiny with a calm, deferential politeness that was entirely Kyoko's. But the attention was now fixed on Iruma. He knew the crowns wouldn't let this go.
***
The day after the gathering, the chaos followed Iruma back to school. Principal Sullivan announced the next major event for the Misfit Class: the Rank Recognition Class. Because the students of the Misfit Class held either low ranks or were simply too chaotic to be graded, they were mandated to earn ranks quickly or face demotion.
Iruma's task, assigned by the now slightly-less-furious Kalego-sensei, was simple but challenging: he had to secure a spot in the Royal One.
"Suzuki!" Kalego-familiar snapped, clinging to Iruma's collar.
"Your rank of Bet is a disgrace! You will participate in the next rank-earning activity and secure your place in the Royal One classroom. It is the pinnacle of the school, and if you fail, I will personally ensure your expulsion!"
Iruma stared blankly at his tiny, angry teacher.
"Royal One? What's that?"
Alice, beside him, gasped. "Iruma-sama! The Royal One is a legendary, special classroom reserved only for the elite, the true high-ranking nobles! It's said that no one has entered it in centuries! To simply attempt this task is a challenge worthy of a future King!"
Iruma just wanted to survive the day without a magical outburst. Now he had to break a centuries-old tradition just to keep his furious, tiny teacher from expelling him. The path of the Demon Prince was proving to be exponentially more complicated than the life of a human boy.