The task laid before the Misfit Class—securing the legendary Royal One classroom—was met with general chaos and skepticism.
The Royal One was not just a room; it was a symbol, a testament to true demonic dominance, said to be magically sealed by the school's founders.
No demon had managed to unlock it in centuries.
For Iruma, this was simply an impossibly high hurdle set by a spiteful teacher he had accidentally enslaved.
For Alice and Clara, it was the greatest adventure ever conceived.
"Iruma-sama!" Alice declared, his eyes blazing with competitive zeal. "To unlock the Royal One is a task worthy of your majesty! We shall devise a magnificent plan!"
Clara, meanwhile, was already trying to use her magical pouch to produce a key, only to pull out a rubber duck and a surprisingly potent landmine.
Delkira, watching the subsequent Misfit Class meeting from the safety of his office, received frequent panicked reports from Opera.
"The young master is attempting to negotiate with the rock demon, Lord King. He seems to be offering snacks as payment for cooperation."
Delkira merely chuckled,
"He gets that from his mother. Kyoko could negotiate a good deal with a grumpy fisherman using only a piece of homemade cake."
The official challenge involved presenting a "demon-like" performance of dominance and power to the entire student body and, crucially, to the Thirteen Crowns, who would serve as the final judges.
During a rehearsal, Delkira and Sullivan decided to make a subtle appearance to observe Iruma's progress.
They stood invisibly in the back of the auditorium, watching as the Misfit Class tried to organize their act.
The scene was pure pandemonium.
The rock demon was stuck, the muscular demon kept breaking props, and the whole class was on the verge of turning on itself.
Iruma, sensing the rising tension, did the only thing he knew how to do: he mediated. He didn't shout or command; he used his sincerity and empathy. He listened to each demon's complaint, offered a bit of Alice's fire magic to melt the rock demon free, and gave the muscle demon a job requiring brute strength. He wasn't dominating them; he was uniting them. He was leading them through kindness.
It was during this chaotic, yet strangely effective, display of accidental leadership that Amduscias Poro, who had been invited by Sullivan under the pretense of "providing musical guidance," stumbled into the auditorium.
Poro, a flamboyant and highly emotional demon, was immediately drawn to the stage.
He watched Iruma, who, completely oblivious to Poro's presence, was gently correcting Clara's stage blocking. The boy had an aura of calm that cut through the demon class's native chaos.
Poro froze.
The look on Iruma's face—that soft, gentle concern, the effortless way he drew others toward him without a single display of overt power—was exactly the expression Delkira had worn in the years leading up to his disappearance when dealing with petty noble disputes. It wasn't the regal, absolute authority that Delkira possessed on the throne; it was the quiet, magnetic charisma, the personal energy, that the King had possessed in his private moments.
Poro saw the King's mannerisms, but filtered through an unfamiliar, almost unnerving gentleness.
Poro's eyes welled up with dramatic tears. He burst forward, throwing himself dramatically onto the stage, completely interrupting the rehearsal, and staggered toward Iruma.
"Oh, the mannerisms! The way he holds himself!" Poro wailed, reaching out a trembling hand toward Iruma's face.
"The King! He smells of the King! And yet, he's so kind! Where did you get that gentle look, little one? You remind me so much of... of my dearest Del-chan! Are you related? Are you carrying one of his old scarves?"
Delkira, still invisible, was caught completely off guard. He had to suppress a magical explosion to keep his invisibility intact.
Sullivan quickly stepped in, materializing beside a bewildered Poro.
"Poro! My dear friend! You've mistaken a stage prop for our dear King's lost memory! Here, let me guide you to the refreshments!"
Sullivan grabbed Poro and quickly escorted him out, muttering excuses about Poro's "overactive imagination" and "sentimental delusions."
Iruma, utterly confused by the sudden, dramatic appearance of the crying demon, just shrugged it off as another strange quirk of the Netherworld.
"He seemed nice," Iruma commented to Alice.
Alice, however, saw the chaos differently.
"Iruma-sama! Even the great Lord Poro is moved to tears by your presence! Truly, your potential is overwhelming!"