The sight of Noir Sullivan standing before the empty trolley, blissfully wiping the remaining slime from his lips and demanding more food, left the entire cafeteria in a state of stunned silence. The students who had orchestrated the prank were likely hiding, utterly defeated by the sheer, ravenous efficiency of their target.
Asmodeus Alice finally recovered from his shock, his devotion reaching a new, almost dizzying height. He had witnessed his Lord not only ignore an insult but consume it entirely.
"Noir-sama, truly, your capacity is infinite!" Alice whispered reverently, his hands shaking slightly as he moved to clear the few remaining trays. "Your ability to turn the lowest materials into sustenance proves your absolute mastery over all realms!"
Clara, however, was already moving past the food drama, seeing only the opportunity for a treat.
"Oh, you look sad, Alice! You didn't get to eat much!" Clara chirped. She rummaged deep into her uniform pocket, her eyes sparkling. "Look! I found this lying on the ground! Do you want some?"
With a PLOP, she pulled out a massive, ornate bowl of perfectly chilled, three-flavor Ice Cream, complete with sprinkles and a cherry on top. It looked pristine and utterly delicious, despite the dubious claim of its origin.
Alice, covered in slime and sweat, looked at the confection with disdain. "Clara, that is a frivolous and unsanitary treat. We should be focused on the—wait, you claim you found that lying on the ground?"
"Yup!" Clara said proudly, offering the bowl to Noir first.
Noir accepted the bowl gratefully; the cold was a pleasant counter to the heat generated by his internal core. "Thanks, Clara. You saved my life."
He took a large bite, and the complex, sweet flavors were a jarring contrast to the five gallons of gruel he'd just consumed. Alice, despite his protests, was quickly coerced into taking a large spoonful by Clara, his eyes widening in appreciation.
Clara bounced, her earlier worries completely forgotten. "It's been a great week, hasn't it, Noir? I really hope we're in the same class! I'm going to ask my teacher if I can follow you all day!"
"I concur," Alice stated firmly, finishing his ice cream with aristocratic speed. "It is imperative that I am placed in your class, Noir-sama. Your progress must be overseen, and my services must remain available. Our destiny is linked, and our academic path should be as well!"
Noir looked from the intensely loyal Alice to the wildly enthusiastic Clara, and a genuine warmth spread through his chest. He thought back over the week: the accidental duels, the secret talks, the ludicrous games, and the overwhelming moment of shared, protective rage.
Inner Dialogue (Noir):They are the only thing that makes this terrifying place bearable. The only two demons who treat me like... like a person. I honestly don't want to go to a single class without them.
He took another bite of ice cream, finding the courage he lacked when confronting his inner demon.
"I agree," Noir said, looking directly at both of them. "I'm sure I'll have more fun with both of you around. Actually…"
He hesitated, the words feeling huge and foreign on his tongue.
"Is it… is it okay if I call you my friends?"
The question, simple and utterly sincere, was met with total, baffling confusion.
Alice paused, his perfect posture faltering. "Noir-sama? I am afraid I do not comprehend the terminology. We are companions, associates, and I am your sworn vassal. 'Friend' is not a standard contract term in the Demon World hierarchy."
Clara tilted her head, her green eyes wide. "A… friend? Is that like a pet name? Is it better than 'Pocket'?"
Noir realized with a sinking heart that Sullivan's casual assumption of friendship had obscured a profound cultural difference. The demon world was a place of ranks, contracts, servitude, and utility. The notion of a purely voluntary, equal, and emotionally supportive bond was entirely alien.
He sighed, setting down the bowl. This was going to be harder than explaining the Seraphim bloodline.
"A friend," Noir began, speaking slowly and deliberately, "is a person you choose to keep close, not because they serve you, and not because you gain mana or status from them. You keep them close because you want to be around them. You share things, you help them when they are sad, and you stand up for them when they are treated unfairly."
He looked at Alice. "It means I choose you, Alice, not just because you're strong, but because I enjoy your company."
He looked at Clara. "It means I choose you, Clara, not for your pockets, but because you make me laugh and you don't pretend to be someone you're not."
He finished simply, "It's a connection without a binding contract."
Alice and Clara stared at him, absorbing the foreign philosophy. Alice was the first to process the implications of such a selfless, non-transactional bond originating from the most powerful student.
Alice's face lit up with overwhelming pride. "Noir-sama! To be chosen by you outside the bounds of traditional contract is the ultimate honor! It signifies that my personal qualities—my devotion, my intellect, my fighting prowess—are deemed worthy of your affection! This is truly a high rank!"
Clara pumped her fists. "No contract! That's so cool! So we can play whatever we want and not have to pay?"
"Yes," Noir confirmed, relieved they hadn't rejected the idea entirely.
"Then, if we are both your friends," Alice declared, stepping forward with his most competitive demeanor, "I must insist on the correct order! I was selected first! I am Friend No. 1!"
"No way!" Clara immediately retorted, shoving a sticky finger at Alice. "I make the snacks! And I know more fun games! I should be Friend No. 1! You're too stiff to be the first friend, Alice!"
"Ridiculous! I am the most loyal! Loyalty always outranks childish distraction! You shall be Friend No. 2, Valac!"
"Friend No. 1!"
"Friend No. 2!"
Noir watched them bicker, his heart strangely light. He was caught between two demons, arguing fiercely over the title of "Friend No. 1," a concept they hadn't even known existed five minutes ago. He truly had fun with them.
Inner Dialogue (Noir):Okay. This is good. This is what it feels like to be normal, even if the definition of normal is slightly unhinged.
While Noir was busy defining the basic tenets of human interaction, a world-altering decision regarding his academic career was being made in the Babyls Faculty Room.
Lord Sullivan sat opposite a very stressed Naberius Kalego, sipping tea and beaming.
"So, Kalego-kun, have you finalized the classroom assignments for the first-years?" Sullivan asked sweetly.
Kalego, recovering from the dual familiar summoning and the food chaos, pushed a scroll across the table. "Yes, Lord Sullivan. The rankings are set. Asmodeus Alice will be placed in the Honors Class, given his rank. Valac Clara will be placed in the Standard Class, given her… eccentricity. And your grandson, Noir, whose rank is currently unmeasurable and who caused multiple structural infractions, will be placed in a unique isolation classroom until his status can be determined."
Sullivan's smile did not waver. He picked up the assignment scroll and, with a subtle but devastating burst of Demonic Lord mana, rewrote a single line on the parchment.
"Ah, Kalego-kun, you look tired," Sullivan sympathized. "Let's make this simple. I'm thinking they should all be together. For bonding! It's what friends do, after all."
He returned the scroll. The assignments now read:
Student name | Initial Rank | Class Assigned
Noir Sullivan. | Unknown. | The Misfits
Alice Asmodeus | Ý. | The Misfits
Clara Valac. | ą. | The Misfits
Kalego stared at the scroll, seeing the unmistakable, final authority of the Demon Lord's signature overriding his meticulous planning. The three most volatile, chaotic elements of the first-year class were now scheduled to be contained in a single room, permanently removed from the general population.
"Lord Sullivan, this is madness! The Misfit Class is meant for those who are academically hopeless!" Kalego protested weakly.
"Nonsense, Kalego-kun! They're just... special," Sullivan cooed, standing up. "My grandson needs his friends! And this way, you can keep an eye on them without them causing any more trouble for the other students!"
And so, due to the loving, yet utterly insane machinations of his Grandpa, Noir Sullivan's academic destiny was sealed, along with that of his two newly defined friends. They would all be starting class together, in the one classroom designed for demons who simply didn't fit in.