The chaotic introduction to the Misfit Class continued. Noir Sullivan was still processing the sheer bravado of Sabnock Sabro, the towering demon still standing at the back of the room, casually flexing the muscles around the swords embedded in his flesh.
Inner Dialogue (Noir):He just... tanked them. He didn't even flinch when those daggers hit bone. I nearly had a heart attack just dodging the shadows. This is true demonic strength. My power is chaos and luck; his is brute force and absolute confidence. If I ever have to fight him, I'm already dead.
Noir quickly regained his composure, settling into the illusion of superiority. He needed to understand the rules of this new world, and Sabro seemed eager to explain them.
Sabnock Sabro strode purposefully toward the front of the room, his heavy armor clanking and the embedded swords scraping against the desks. He pointed a massive finger toward the main blackboard, where he quickly etched a vertical list using a piece of chalk he pulled from the chalk line embedded in his bicep.
"As you newcomers should know, all demons strive for power and rank!" Sabro announced, his voice a booming pronouncement. "The ultimate goal is to become the next Demon King, and the path is clearly defined by the Rank System!"
He finished the list, showing the scale:
Aleph (1) - The lowest
Bet (2)
Gimmel (3)
Dalet (4)
He (5)
Vav (6)
Zayin (7)
Het (8)
Tet (9)
Yod (10) - The highest (Demon King Rank)
"Our ranks will soon be assessed, but true standing is earned through confrontation!" Sabro declared, his voice ringing with pure ambition. "The quickest way to ascend the ranks is to seek out and defeat strong opponents! Each victory pushes you closer to the glorious Yod rank!"
Sabro suddenly spun, his gaze—intense, burning, and utterly fixed—locking onto Noir.
"And that brings me to you, newcomer!" Sabro boomed, stepping directly into Noir's personal space. His shadow engulfed Noir, and the tips of the decorative daggers in his chest were only inches from Noir's nose.
"The rumors surrounding you—the unmeasurable rank, the dual summoning of Chaos and Order—are magnificent! They suggest a being worthy of immediate rivalry!" Sabro leaned down, his eyes narrowed in intense scrutiny.
"However," Sabro continued, his voice dropping slightly but retaining its sharp edge, "you also possess an aura that is subtly... unstable. It lacks the solid, defined arrogance of true demonic nobility. I must know: Are you a genuine demon of sufficient standing to be my rival, or are you merely a talented fraud?"
The entire classroom fell silent, watching the confrontation.
Noir felt a shot of pure, icy dread go through him. Sabro, with his single-minded ambition, had seen past the facade and identified the core truth: instability.
Inner Dialogue (Noir):He saw it! He saw the instability! I need to be overwhelmingly dismissive. I need to crush him with arrogance!
Before Noir could deploy his practiced, deadly sneer, Asmodeus Alice stepped between the two titans, his posture rigid and his eyes blazing with protective fire. Alice was tiny compared to Sabro, but his fury was palpable.
"Stand down, Sabnock Sabro!" Alice commanded, radiating a fierce devotion that defied Sabro's size. "You dare question the inherent, unmeasurable status of Noir-sama?! Such insolence will not be tolerated!"
Sabro looked down at Alice, utterly dismissive. "Ah, the small pink fire-demon. You are a Gimmel at best, boy. Step aside. Your devotion is noted, but ultimately irrelevant to this challenge."
Alice did not move. He stood firm, planting his feet and glaring up at the behemoth.
"You misunderstand, Sabro! I do not stand here merely as a vassal! I stand here as his friend!" Alice declared proudly.
Sabro blinked, genuinely confused. He lowered his sword-laden arm slightly. "Friend? What weak, civilian terminology is that? Why would a demon of your clear lineage use such an utterly meaningless title?"
Alice, suddenly emboldened by the chance to dramatically explain this new, cherished concept, adopted a didactic posture, puffing out his chest.
"It is a bond defined not by magical contract or inherited rank, but by choice and mutual commitment!" Alice explained, channeling the meaning Noir had shared with him the day before. "It is a pure, unbreakable covenant established by Noir-sama himself!"
Alice then paused for maximum dramatic effect and added his own spectacular, demonic embellishment to Noir's definition.
"Furthermore, this bond is sealed by a mutual, unspoken Blood Pact!" Alice declared, pointing a shaking finger at Sabro. "It is a pact where each friend is bound to give their very life for the protection and advancement of the other! It is the ultimate expression of trust and loyalty!"
Sabro's entire demeanor shifted. The mockery vanished, replaced by profound respect and excitement.
"...A voluntary Blood Pact of shared sacrifice? Where you pledge your life to aid his ascent to the throne?!" Sabro bellowed, a wide, thrilled smile cracking his serious expression. "That is... Magnificent! An utterly savage and noble concept! To secure one's loyalties through such a terrifying, life-or-death agreement! I shall be honored to face a demon who commands such fervent, self-sacrificing allegiance!"
Inner Dialogue (Noir):Blood pact? Life for life? What?! No! I just said we hang out a lot! This is going too far!
Noir, horrified that his simple desire for connection had been warped into a death oath, started to step forward. "Alice, that is completely—"
Before Noir could correct the terrifying misrepresentation of friendship, the massive classroom doors burst open with a resounding CRASH!
Standing framed in the doorway, radiating a furious, oppressive aura, was Naberius Kalego. He was even more terrifying than usual, his wings stiff with indignation.
"SILENCE!" Kalego's voice boomed, cutting through the rivalry and the bizarre declaration of friendship. The entire class instantly froze, sensing the raw, professional rage of the faculty member.
Kalego stepped into the room, his eyes sweeping over the scattered weapons, the crushed food, the talking slime, and Sabro's theatrical posture.
"The first class has not even begun, and you are already causing structural and emotional damage! Sit down, all of you! IMMEDIATELY!"
Every student, even Sabro, scrambled back to their seats.
Kalego then turned to the whiteboard and wrote his name with a powerful scratch of his chalk.
"I am Naberius Kalego. I am your homeroom teacher for the Misfit Class," he announced, the statement itself a declaration of his misery.
He then pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice laced with venomous self-pity. "And before any of you question my presence here, let me assure you: I was wrongfully arrested on the day of the initial class assignment meeting by certain administrative personnel who misinterpreted a complex magical procedure."
He glared across the room, his eyes blazing.
"I was detained and designated this class assignment in my absence! I did not request this fate! And I will not tolerate this chaos!" Kalego finished, slamming his hand onto the desk, setting the tone for a truly miserable semester for everyone involved.