[ Day of the Royal One Opening – Babyls Academy Grounds]
The air was thick with excitement.
Banners fluttered, booths lined the walkways, and students from all over the academy gathered, buzzing with curiosity and awe. A small festival had bloomed at the base of the Royal One, its iron-gilded doors looming with centuries of sealed majesty. Vendors shouted, clubs performed, and music filled the air.
The Misfit Class stood clustered together, absorbing the atmosphere.
"Wow! So many demons came to see the Royal One open!" Clara chirped, spinning in place, her eyes sparkling.
"They're not just here for the building," Orias said, pushing up his glasses as he approached. "They're here to see you all. Today marks the end of the 'Misfit Class'—from now on, you're being called…" He paused dramatically. "…the Amazing Class."
The group blinked. Then chaos.
"Nooo! That's so lame!"
"Please don't call us that!"
"We're Misfits! We earned that name!"
Even Sabro groaned, hand to his face.
Meanwhile, at a corner food stall, Iruma, flanked by Clara and Alice, calmly obliterated the Stir-Fry Club with a flurry of graceful, deadly-precise kitchen work. His expression was composed, confident—even elegant in its cruelty. The Evil Cycle glimmered in his eyes, those twin Rinnegan spirals subtly spinning as he prepared the final dish with exacting control.
Clara clapped gleefully. "Yay, Iruma! You destroyed them with flavor again!"
Alice smirked proudly. "It's to be expected. Iruma-sama doesn't falter anymore."
Iruma placed his cooking tools down and exhaled, cold yet composed.
"Everyone worked hard to earn this. I'm simply carrying it forward."
At that moment, Kalego arrived, cape fluttering.
"Iruma Suzuki. Come with me."
The trio followed.
Kalego addressed the entire Misfit Class now standing before the massive sealed doors.
"I've received the go-ahead from Lord Sullivan. The Royal One shall open."
Gasps. Whispers. Tension.
Kalego stood straight, voice resonant.
"The Royal One has remained sealed since the era of Demon King Derkila. It is a symbol of power, prestige… and chaos. Only those truly worthy may step inside. You've all proven your right—not by lineage, nor strength, but through resolve."
Faculty members stepped forward, unlocking one magical seal after another. The doors creaked. A slow, echoing groan of ancient wood and metal filled the air.
"Let it be known," Kalego continued, "this place is not just a classroom. It is a throne to be earned, a burden to be carried."
The doors opened fully.
Light poured out.
Without hesitation, the Misfit Class rushed in. Clara grabbed Iruma's arm, dragging him inside excitedly. Everyone scattered, gasping, marveling.
The Royal One's interior was vast, more like a temple than a classroom—pillars of black stone, high arched ceilings, magical inscriptions glowing faintly along the walls.
And at the back…
A throne.
---
[The Royal One – Throne Room]
The Misfit Class flooded into the Royal One, their excited voices bouncing off the ancient, stone-laced walls. Magic shimmered faintly across the surfaces, like long-dormant runes awakening to new masters.
In the back of the room, they saw it—
The Throne.
Obsidian. Cold. Carved with infernal precision. It looked less like a chair and more like a monument.
Iruma walked toward it.
Each step was deliberate. Measured. Silent.
His classmates, sensing the gravity of the moment, gradually quieted behind him.
As Iruma neared the throne, the dim light within the chamber shifted—almost reacting to him.
Then, he sat.
And in that instant—
His eyes opened fully.
A pulse of energy swept across the room.
From the shadow of his black bangs, the crimson glow of the Sharingan flared like twin coals, each tomoe rotating slowly. Surrounding them, the deep lavender hue of the Six Paths Rinnegan spiraled outward, their ripple pattern casting a faint halo in the dimness.
The combination was hypnotic. Terrifying. Beautiful.
Gasps erupted behind him.
"What… are his eyes…?"
"Didn't you see on the battlefield?"
The magic in the room rippled, reacting to the throne's activation—no, submission—to him.
He didn't slouch. Didn't hesitate.
He sat like he belonged.
One leg crossed over the other, gloved hand resting against his cheek, Iruma stared down the long hall of the Royal One. His posture was calm, but every inch of him radiated command.
The throne responded to his aura, a faint pulse of void-black energy curling around the base like smoke.
Alice, usually unwavering, stood frozen.
"Iruma-sama…" he murmured.
Clara looked back and forth between Iruma and the others. Her fingers trembled at her sides, unsure whether to clap or bow.
Even Sabro, known for his pride, found himself involuntarily stepping back.
At the entrance, students from other classes who had gathered to peek inside the newly opened Royal One room were silenced by the sight.
Whispers spread like wildfire.
"Who is that…?"
"Is that Misfit really get Royal one ?"
"Well there leader was Rank 5 demon… He is Quite famous his name is Iruma Grandson of Lord sullivan…"
---
Back in the room, the silence hung heavy.
Iruma finally spoke—his voice quiet, but resolute.
"This is our place now."
The throne pulsed once more, locking into the floor with a sound like echoing chains.
He looked down at his classmates, eyes still glowing.
"we deserve it."
The class fell into a stunned silence. Even Alice's eyes widened. Clara's mouth hung open.
"Wha… Iruma?"
But Iruma, still in the clutch of the Evil Cycle, crossed one leg over the other and rested his cheek on a gloved hand. The throne responded faintly to his presence, magic rippling through the room.
"This is fine," he said flatly. "It suits us."
The throne glowed brighter.
From the shadows of the doorway, Opera and Sullivan watched, the former silently, the latter nervously.
"…Just look at my precious Iruma," Sullivan murmured.
Opera nodded. And simply smile.
--
[ Next Morning – Iruma's Bedroom]
Iruma groggily sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes. For a moment, everything felt... normal.
That was, until—
"Hehehe, Iruma~! Didn't we pull it off perfectly? That Royal One is ours, and I was such a genius for letting the Evil Cycle run wild~!"
Ali-san materialized from the ring, smug as ever.
"You should thank me! Did you see how cool you looked sitting on that throne? All quiet and 'I'll do anything for the Royal One.' So intense!"
Iruma's expression twisted.
His face flushed beet red.
"W-WHAT WAS THAT EVEN!?"
He grabbed Ali-san in a panic, violently shaking him.
"You let me act like THAT in front of EVERYONE!?"
Ali spun comically in the air, dazed.
"S-Stooop! I thought you liked it! You were radiating aura like a final boss!"
"THAT'S THE PROBLEM!!"
[ Sullivan's Dining Room]
Lord Sullivan sat at the head of the long dining table, holding a flower in one hand. He plucked the petals slowly.
"He'll stay rebellious."pluck
"He'll be a good boy again."pluck
"He'll stay rebellious—"
The doors creaked open.
Iruma peeked in, head down, guilt on his face.
"Grandpa… I'm really sorry for how I acted during the Evil Cycle."
Sullivan's eyes filled with tears. The flower dropped.
"Iru—!!"
Before Iruma could brace himself, he was tackled into a crushing hug.
"I missed my sweet, obedient Iruma-chan! I'll ready the carriage! I'll carry you myself! Let's put you in a bubble forever!"
"I'M FINE, REALLY!" Iruma squirmed.
"I just want to walk to school today like normal."
Opera sipped tea quietly nearby, offering a rare smile.
[ School Courtyard – Morning]
Iruma stood awkwardly in front of Alice and Clara, head bowed.
"I'm sorry I acted so cold."
Clara sniffled, then tackled him in a hug.
"You're back to being nice! Yay!!"
Alice adjusted his tie, nodding.
"It was a part of your nature. I will never fault you for that. But… yes. Welcome back, Iruma-sama."
[ Student Council Office]
Ameri crossed her arms as Iruma stepped in.
"So. Back to being soft and smiling again?"
"Sorry for worrying you, Ameri."
She blushed lightly, glancing away.
"I didn't hate it."
Then quickly added, "But I'm glad it's you again."
[ The Royal One – Classroom]
The Misfit Class gathered in their newly claimed classroom.
Iruma stood before them, nervously scratching his cheek.
"Sorry for being so intense. I might've... said some things. Acted weird. You guys worked really hard and—I really appreciate it."
There was a beat of silence.
Then Sabro gave a nod.
"You were like a king. It was fitting. But I will catch up to you , my rival then it's me Sabro sabnock who will become king!"
"Yes , Yes . Sure"
"Next time, give us a heads up before going full , Lovely prince," Elizabetta teased.
"Group photo time!" Clara cheered, holding up her magic camera.
They all surrounded the throne. Iruma sat at the center, surrounded by his classmates, grinning sheepishly.
Click!
The photo froze the moment forever.
[ Flowerbed – Outer Courtyard]
Two janitors quietly watered the soil.
The flower Iruma had planted now stood tall, its petals a glowing blend of white and pale gold, swaying gently under Netherworld skies.
"Looks like it bloomed perfectly," one said.
"Just like that kid. Knew he'd grow into it."