Noir Sullivan cautiously reached his hand into the Ranking Owl's thick, soft feathers. The moment his fingers brushed the surface, the Owl Demon let out a piercing, terrified screech.
The Ranking Owl immediately flew away, abandoning its post and circling the sky frantically. It didn't drop a badge; it didn't even attempt the assessment. It simply rejected the contact, treating Noir not as a student, but as an existential, unquantifiable threat.
Kalego, watching this highly irregular behavior, pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering, "Another abnormality. Of course. Even the administrative tools fail in the presence of this child."
Noir pulled his hand back, utterly confused by the owl's flight. He felt a sudden, profound spike in his internal mana—the combined, chaotic energy of the Primordial Demon and the Seraphim. The rejection by the ranking system seemed to have destabilized his already precarious core. The energy was too much.
A sudden shift in focus drew the narrative away from the chaotic scene, dipping into the past. It was the vast, gothic library of the Sabnock lineage, dimly lit by flickering mana lamps. A much younger Sabnock Sabro, small for his age but radiating intense purpose, sat hunched over a massive, disintegrating scroll—the repository of their family's greatest obsession.
The text was known only to the highest demonic nobles and scholars, outlining the impossible characteristics of the true successor to the throne: The Demon King's Prophecy.
Sabro carefully read the prophecy aloud, his young voice echoing in the silent library, committing the impossible words to memory, reciting the four crucial lines that defined the destined ruler of the Netherworld:
"He shall make one and all of his servants."
(A being whose inherent presence commands the total, willing obedience of all demonkind, regardless of rank.)
"He shall form blood pacts and heal all demonkind."
(A being of paradoxical nature—capable of both establishing the most feared demonic contracts and possessing the power to reverse death and injury, a trait impossible for native demons.)
"He shall descend from a foreign realm."
(An outsider, not born of the Netherworld, yet destined to rule it.)
"And wear the golden ring of Solomon on his right hand."
(The sign of the ancient king, the relic that bound the spirits of the underworld.)
Sabro closed the scroll, his heart pounding with the weight of the words. The prophecy was dismissed by modern demons as a collection of mythological contradictions. No single being could embody such disparate traits. Yet, young Sabro, driven by his desire to be the 'coolest,' saw it only as a blueprint for maximum ambition.
"I must become all those things, and more," he vowed to himself, completely missing the fact that the prophecy was not a checklist for effort, but a description of destiny.
The scene snaps back to the cliff face. Noir stumbled backward, clutching his chest as the uncontrolled mana threatened to tear him apart. The sheer, pent-up power of his demonic identity, usually tightly constrained by his human limitations, broke free.
Noir lost control. The powerful, oppressive aura he normally suppressed erupted from his body. It wasn't the majestic, controlled display from moments ago; it was a devastating storm of raw, turbulent energy. The sky darkened, and the very air seemed to vibrate with a high-pitched, chaotic hum.
The students of the Misfit Class were instantly knocked backward, shielding their faces from the blinding, turbulent storm of power.
Simultaneously, the two familiars he had summoned—the massive Primordial Chaos Lion (Black) and the incandescent Aether Phantom Tiger (White)—burst forth from the crests of his hands, fully manifested in response to their master's severe distress. They were colossal, their forms shimmering with deadly, raw power, and they immediately adopted a hyper-aggressive, defensive stance around Noir.
The familiars let out synchronized, ear-splitting roars that shook the rock. They radiated an unmistakable, lethal threat: Anyone who approaches our precious master during this moment of crisis will be annihilated. They were protecting him from the perceived danger of the demonic ranking system and the surrounding students.
Noir was convulsing, the turbulent mana threatening to shred his human body. It was at this moment, as he struggled to contain the cosmic energies, that a faint, golden light appeared on his right hand, shining fiercely against the backdrop of the chaos.
The light solidified, revealing a simple yet ornate golden ring wrapping itself tightly around his ring finger. The metal felt impossibly ancient, and it immediately began to exert a calming, stabilizing counter-force against the rampaging energy.
The ring was the Ring of Solomon—the ancient, mythical relic worn by the Demon King of legend. It was bound to his soul, drawn forth by the uncontrollable surge of mana threatening to destroy its host.
The ring immediately began to regulate the massive, swirling mana, attempting to channel the chaotic power into a manageable form.
However, the energy was so immense, and Noir's human form so fragile, that the ring's protective magic formed a physical barrier. The twin familiars roared once more, and the chaotic mana coalesced rapidly around Noir, following the ring's command to contain the overload.
The energy solidified into a tough, egg-like shell. Layer after layer of concentrated, protective power wrapped around Noir, encasing him entirely.
In front of the entire Misfit Class, with his powerful familiars standing guard, Noir Sullivan vanished inside a swirling, protective cocoon, leaving the Chaos Lion and Aether Tiger standing over the massive shell, while the golden Ring of Solomon glinted faintly on the exterior of the shell on his right hand, a silent sign of the fulfilled prophecy.
The storm subsided as quickly as it had erupted, leaving only the gigantic, throbbing, man-sized egg-shell sitting on the cliff face, flanked by the two terrifying, watchful familiars.
Asmodeus Alice, despite his fear, recovered first. He stared at the glowing shell, then at the golden ring—the final piece of the prophecy, now physically manifested. He remembered Noir's actions over the past few days:
"He shall make one and all of his servants."He had effortlessly enslaved the highest-ranking vassal, Alice, with his presence alone.
"He shall form blood pacts and heal all demonkind."He had healed the Guardian's chick with a drop of his own blood, and his "friendship" was immediately interpreted as a life-or-death blood pact.
"He shall descend from a foreign realm."He was the unmeasurable outsider, the strange boy who appeared from nowhere.
Alice fell to his knees before the cocoon, his eyes wide with religious awe. "Noir-sama... the Demon King!"
Sabnock Sabro, equally battered and now completely bewildered, saw the same elements align. The prophecy he had chased, the role he had coveted, was being visibly fulfilled by his clumsy, yet impossibly powerful rival.
"The golden ring... the prophecy... He is Him," Sabro whispered, collapsing onto his back, his ambition instantly ignited even more brightly.
Kalego stood motionless, watching the protective barrier shimmering around the student, the roaring familiars, and the golden ring. He had tried to treat Noir as merely a strange transfer student, but the appearance of the artifact and the overwhelming mana surge proved he was dealing with something far beyond his experience or control.
The Misfit Class was now completely subdued. They had witnessed not a power struggle, but a divine manifestation. The student they had tried to injure had just demonstrated uncontrollable, cosmic power and encapsulated himself in an elemental egg under the protection of legendary beasts and a mythical ring.
The ranking competition was officially forgotten. The focus had shifted from grades and speed to the terrifying and magnificent question of what would emerge from the cocoon.