The biting cold of the winter term settled over Babyls, bringing with it a festive chill that was utterly foreign to the Netherworld.
Iruma, bundled in a ridiculous human-world sweater gifted by Grandpa Sullivan, decided it was the perfect time for a cultural exchange.
One chilly afternoon, as the Misfit Class gathered, Iruma clapped his hands together, his eyes shining with genuine excitement.
"Okay, everyone! I want to introduce you all to something called Christmas!"
The entire class stared blankly.
"Christmas?" queried Asmodeus Alice, tilting his head. "Is that a new, powerful human ritual, Iruma-sama? Does it involve blood sacrifice or perhaps a magnificent display of fire?"
"It sounds chaotic!" cried Clara Valac, already rummaging in her pockets for something shiny and red.
Iruma laughed. "No, nothing like that! It's a holiday about giving and kindness and celebrating! And we're going to play a game called Secret Santa!"
He explained the concept: secretly drawing names and giving a thoughtful, anonymous gift. The Misfits, driven by pure demonic impulse, were initially baffled. The idea of giving without a guaranteed immediate reward or a battle seemed utterly foreign.
Kalego-sensei, who was chained to Iruma's wrist in his tiny familiar form, bristled. "This is an utterly idiotic, low-ranked concept! It wastes valuable time!"
"Nonsense, Kero-chan!" boomed a cheerful voice as Grandpa Sullivan burst into the Misfit classroom, trailed by Opera carrying several boxes of glittering decorations.
"Christmas is essential for the emotional development of the future Demon King! Besides, my dear grandson's customs are law!"
The moment the rules were explained, the game instantly morphed into the Misfit Secret Santa Competition—a chaotic, high-stakes battle to deliver the "best" gift, fueled by demonic ambition and the competitive desire for superiority.
****
The Misfit Classroom was a sight of festive, chaotic opulence. Principal Sullivan had completely decked it out with flickering purple fire-lights and an enormous, monstrously grinning "Santa-Claws" statue. Opera served a stoic array of human treats.
The competitive tension was thick as the gifts were exchanged based on the precise pairings:
Round 1: The Rivals and The Scholars
* Alice → Gaap: Alice presented a Magnificent, Magically Stabilized Gyroscope encased in fire magic, intended to give the wind demon unparalleled precision in flight—a tool for superior battle performance.
* Sabnock → Allocer: Sabnock, aiming for grand historical recognition, gave Allocer a Giant, Impossibly Heavy Tome detailing the complete (and highly fictionalized) history of the Sabnock lineage, bound in dragon hide. Allocer was fascinated by the sheer audacity of the lie.
* Kerrori → Ix Elizabetta: Kerrori gave Ix a Mundane, Completely Normal Lunchbox. "It is a box," Kerrori stated flatly. "Enjoy the simplicity." Ix was baffled by the philosophical implications of receiving a gift with zero magical complexity.
* Allocer → Kerrori: Allocer, drawing his own brother, gave Kerrori an Encyclopedic Compendium of Rules and Regulations covering every major demonic organization, a gift of pure, unadulterated bureaucratic data.
Round 2: The Practical and The Absurd
* Clara → Lied: Clara presented Lied with a Magical, Self-Folding Blanket that, upon command, instantly transforms into a giant, perfectly accurate clay likeness of Iruma. Lied was bewildered but impressed by the technical application of the clay duplication.
* Lied → Balam: Lied, aiming for high-energy fun, gave the gentle teacher Balam a Hyper-Caffeinated, Energy-Enhanced Gaming Drink called "Mortal Overload," which Balam accepted with deep confusion.
* Gaap → Sabnock: Gaap gave Sabnock a single, Perfectly Balanced Feather from a rare, extinct griffin, stating it was "for practicing precise aerial swordplay." Sabnock roared with approval at the challenge implied by the tiny target.
* Ix Elizabetta → Alice: Ix, applying on her empathy logic, gave Alice a Detailed Flowchart on how to efficiently express emotions in three easy steps. Alice was deeply offended by the suggestion of inefficiency in his emotions tried to reason that "only Iruma-sama is worthy enough to feel my emotions", and tried to incinerate the chart, only to find it was fireproof.
Round 3: The Royal and The Regal
* Kamui → Sullivan: Kamui presented the Principal with a massive, Sequined Top Hat that magically emitted sparks and played a jaunty, chaotic polka when worn. Sullivan put it on immediately, initiating a spontaneous, celebratory flood of happy tears.
* Sullivan → Opera: Sullivan gave Opera a year's supply of The Finest, Most Exclusive, Magically Reinforced Catnip for Opera's personal pleasure, a gift of pure luxury and comfort. Opera gave a single, almost imperceptible nod of appreciation.
* Opera → Kalego: Opera gave Kalego (still tiny and furious on Iruma's wrist) a Miniature, Magically Self-Cleaning Broom and Dustpan. "For managing your small space, Mofu- mofu," Opera stated in a straight face but you can see a glint of mischief in their eyes. Kalego emitted a puff of smoke, utterly infuriated by the way Opera calls him and their gift's passive-aggressive practicality.
Round 4: The Silent and The Sentimental
* Agares → Jazz: Agares simply gave him a Perfectly Comfortable, Magically Woven Pillow that promised a superior afternoon nap. Jazz was initially baffled by the lack of complexity, yet couldn't deny the pillow's invitation to deep, restful sleep.
* Soi → Agares: Soi gave the sleepy demon Agares a Heavy Velvet Eye Mask designed to block out all light and sound, accompanied by a small bottle of dream-inducing sleeping potions.
* Poro → Soi: Poro, the ultimate dramatic demon, gave his little pupil the most elegant trumpet he could find. Soi looked profoundly moved.
The Iruma Exchange: Champion of Generosity
Finally, the spotlight landed on Iruma and Balam.
* Balam → Iruma: Balam presented Iruma with a Magically Weight-Balanced, Highly Durable Backpack that automatically shifted its center of gravity to prevent the wearer from ever stumbling or falling. "For stability, Iruma-kun," Balam said kindly. Iruma's eyes widened; it was the most useful, genuinely thoughtful gift he had ever received.
* Iruma → Poro: Iruma presented Poro with a small, beautifully crafted music box. When Poro opened it, it played the soft, nostalgic tune that Delkira used to hum when he tucked Iruma into bed in their human home. The simplicity cut through the chaos. Poro's face crumpled. "Oh, the EMOTION!" Poro wailed, clinging to the music box. "It speaks to my very soul! This... this is the greatest music I have ever heard! Iruma-kun, you are a master of emotional manipulation!"
The Misfits, seeing Poro's over-the-top reaction, declared Iruma the undeniable winner. He had successfully performed the ultimate demonic feat: reducing a Demon Crown to tears through sheer, sincere kindness.
Delkira, watching invisibly from the door, whispered to Opera, "He won the competition by being the least competitive person there. That's our boy."
The Misfit Class had experienced its first taste of human Christmas, turning it into a surprisingly heartwarming, yet fiercely competitive, display of demonic affection.
❄️❄️❄️
The competitive fire of the Secret Santa was finally extinguished, leaving behind a warm, strange atmosphere in the Misfit Classroom.
Iruma smiled, happy to see his friends genuinely enjoying the bizarre human tradition. Even tiny Kalego-familiar seemed to be glaring with slightly less intensity.
As the party wound down and the Misfits gradually dispersed, Iruma gathered his gifts—the useful stability backpack from Balam, the emotional validation from Poro, and the quiet contentment of having made his friends happy.
That evening, back in the lavish solitude of the Royal Tower, Iruma sat with his father in the great living room. Delkira had finally shed his invisibility, sitting on the plush sofa, looking relaxed and deeply satisfied. Sullivan was already asleep nearby, occasionally muttering about "sequined top hats."
"You did well today, Iruma," Delkira said, his voice soft, the weight of the King momentarily lifted. "You showed those crowns that kindness is a kind of power, too."
Iruma walked over and presented his father with a small, carefully wrapped package.
"Dad, this isn't Secret Santa, but... I got you something."
Delkira, who hadn't received a simple, thoughtful gift in centuries, looked genuinely touched. He slowly unwrapped the paper to reveal a hand-painted ceramic mug. It wasn't fancy; the paint was slightly smeared in one place, and the inscription was a little shaky, but it was made with love. It depicted two figures: a tall, winged demon holding the hand of a small, smiling boy.
The inscription beneath read: "To the Greatest Dad in the World."
Delkira's strong composure instantly cracked. The immense, powerful demon king, who had faced down armies and political betrayals without flinching, felt an overwhelming, unfamiliar rush of emotion.
"Iruma..." he choked out, his voice thick.
Iruma reached out and took his father's hand, his blue eyes shining with sincerity. "Thank you, Dad. For everything. For teaching me how to fly, how to be strong, and for bringing me here. Even if it's crazy, I love it. You're the greatest father anyone could ever ask for."
That was the final blow. Delkira didn't just tear up; he wept. His huge body shook with silent sobs for a moment, then he let out a great, heart-wrenching wail of joy and gratitude that echoed through the tower. It wasn't the roaring laugh of the Demon King; it was the raw, unrestrained joy of a father whose deepest wish had come true.
"My son!" Delkira cried out, pulling Iruma into a fierce, massive hug, his wings wrapping protectively around the boy. "You... you have no idea how special you are to me!"
The sound of his weeping was so loud and so magically potent that the magical Christmas lights in the room began to flash wildly in response, and the sleeping Sullivan was jostled awake, immediately bursting into tears himself upon seeing the emotional scene.
"Oh, my dear Del-chan! My little Prince! It's the magic of Christmas!" Sullivan wailed, flooding the floor again.
Delkira finally calmed himself, wiping his eyes dramatically. He smiled through the tears, his heart full. "I have a gift for you too, Iruma. It's not much, just something I missed doing."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a worn, carved wooden figure—a small, detailed figurine of a dragon, which was the symbol of the Demon King's bloodline. He handed it to Iruma.
"It's a small gift, but it's real," Delkira said. "It's a charm I used to carve for myself when I was your age. Keep it with you. And remember: no matter how chaotic this world gets, you are safe. You are home."
Iruma clutched the charm, his heart warm with a feeling far better than any power or prestige—the unconditional love of his family.
With the festive spirit concluded, Iruma knew the next day would bring the harsh reality of Babyls and the high-stakes Royal One challenge. But now, with a father's love confirmed and a tiny, angry familiar still on his wrist, he was more than ready.