The Deviculum, the grand masquerade ball of demons, was a sight to behold. Held in a lavishly decorated ballroom, its opulent surroundings exuded an air of decadence and power. The walls were adorned with intricately woven tapestries depicting scenes of mythical creatures and battles. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, golden glow that illuminated the grand hall.
As the attendees entered, their masks concealed their true identities, allowing them to embody their deepest desires and hidden intentions. The demons present seemed more beautiful than humanly possible, with flawless skin that shimmered in shades of iridescent blues, purples, and deep reds. Their eyes sparkled with an otherworldly allure, holding both mystery and danger.
Excitement and nervous anticipation hung heavy in the air as the crowd mingled and indulged in their own devious schemes. Whispers of power, alliances, and betrayal filled every corner, as demons sought to secure their positions in the Crown Thirteen Seats. It was a high-stakes game of politics and manipulation, where friendships were fragile and loyalty was scarce.
The tension was palpable, so thick it could be cut with a knife. Demons moved with calculated grace, their smiles belying the sharpness of their intentions. Each step, each gesture was measured, revealing the underlying desire to tear each other apart and rise above the rest.
And then, amidst the charged atmosphere, all heads turned in unison toward the entrance. Iruma and his pack, a formidable presence, had arrived. Whispers of their achievements, their influence, and their unwavering determination spread through the room like wildfire. The crowd sensed a shift in the balance of power, and their eyes followed Iruma's every move.
Iruma and his pack were dressed to impress in their exquisitely tailored attire. Each member proudly displayed their pack's emblem and their family's signet, symbolizing their heritage and the strength they carried within.
The shield of arms of their pack, a white phoenix on a black background, commanded attention and respect. The phoenix, with its wings spread wide in flight, represented the rebirth and transformation of their Head Alpha, Iruma, from a mere human, not that anyone but the pack knew, to a powerful demi-demon. It was a testament to his resilience and the indomitable spirit that had brought them all together. Beneath the majestic phoenix, the Latin inscription "ardenti in sempiternum" was beautifully engraved. It perfectly encapsulated the essence of their Head Omega, Alice, whose fire burned bright and eternal. It was a fitting fusion of their combined strengths and love, a symbol that held deep meaning for the pack.
The exclusivity of the event meant that only a select few, including Iruma, Alice, Sabro, Soi, Clara, Kerori, and Goemon, had received invitations. Despite their misfit class popularity, it was those members' noble ranks and the support of powerful families ensured their presence. To further bolster their standing, Ameri and Kalego, who held prominent positions in the demon society, joined them as trusted allies. Though, only Ameri was standing beside them, Kalego had a personal mission for tonight.
As they stepped into the ballroom, heads turned and murmurs of curiosity and admiration rippled through the crowd. Iruma and his pack emanated an aura of confidence and unity, their presence commanding attention amidst the elaborate masks and extravagant costumes of the other demons.
Some viewed Iruma and his pack with envy, seeing them as threats to their own aspirations. Others saw an opportunity for alliances and strategic partnerships. And a few, the wise and observant, recognized Iruma's potential to disrupt the established order, shaking the foundations of their carefully constructed plans.
The beautiful yet daunting ball had become the stage for a battle of wits, hidden agendas, and ruthless ambition. The demons, draped in elegance and splendor, exuded an aura of both trepidation and excitement. They were poised to unleash their most cunning strategies, prepared to stab each other in the back to claim the coveted seats of power.
In this den of calculated chaos, where demons wore masks to hide their true intentions, the fate of the Crown Thirteen Seats would be determined. The masquerade ball had transformed into an arena of political warfare, a battleground of shifting alliances and dark desires, with Iruma and his pack standing at the center, the catalysts of change.
"Well, it seems like we are the center of attention, again," Kerori commented with a giggle, as she was being escorted by her betrothed Sabro.
"As if you could expect anything less from us!" Alice scoffed, clearly affronted that anyone would think otherwise.
"What's the plan Iruma-chi?" Clara beamed at their Pack Alpha.
"Well, it seems that I have some family to meet tonight," Iruma hummed, the arm wrapped around Alice's waist tightening.
"Sir Narnia Naberius," Ameri frowned, as she followed Iruma's gaze and landed on the intimidating demon. "Fear is a disgrace in the Netherworld and yet many demons fear the name Naberius. Especially, Sir Narnia. His name alone is enough to rouse thousands of demons."
"That's the demon that betrayed us," Sabro growled under his breath, glaring at the tall man.
"For it to be a betreyal he needs to have been our ally to begin with," Purson corrected him.
"He is our alpha's uncle," Goemon commented. "Does that not count?"
"Pack surprases blood ties, or have you forgotten that," Purson answered. "I am a clear example of that."
"Still, I have yet to meet him and I want to," Iruma spoke up, stopping his pack from continuing debating blood ties and pack dynamics. "Let's get going."
"Yes, alpha!" His pack replied unanimously and followed him through the ballroom.
With each step, Iruma and his pack embodied a combination of elegance, power, and undeniable unity. They were a force to be reckoned with, and the masquerade ball served as a stage where they could make their mark, forging alliances, and securing their positions in the intricate web of demon politics. As the music swelled and the tension in the room grew, Iruma and his pack stood tall, ready to face the challenges that lay ahead.
"Hello, uncle, it's an honour to finally meet you," Iruma bowed before Ser Narnia.
"Iruma... my brother's son..." Narnia mumbled, looking at the bluehaired alpha before him with scrutiny. "You are late, the ball is almost over."
"Well, as interesting at the ball would have been, it's not like our presence would matter that much. We are still simply students," Iruma smirked cheekily at his uncle. "However, we are quite curious and could not wait for the news to reveal who the new Thirteen Crowns were." Iruma tilted his head, feigning innocence. "Why? Is there a reason we should have been here from the beginning?"
They both knew everyone will be gunning towards him. That whoever was betraying the Thirteen Crowns would have made a plan against him and his pack during this event. Which is why they decided to come last and make sure not to be involved. It's not like anyone would be crazy enough to do something after the Thirteen Crowns were announced. Right?
Just then the three greats took their place on the stage and everyone turned to look at their imposing figures. It was finally the time.
"We, the Thirteen Crowns, the central pillars of the Nethwerworld, have after careful consideration decided on the new two seats." Sullivan announced, gaining everyone's attention. The tension in the ballroom was palpable and you could cut it with a knife.
"Sir Narnia, The Canine Lord and Sir Mephisto, The Gamesman King! We herby grant them the title and the duties of the Thirteen Crowns! Everyone please give them a round of applause!" Belial continued, as the crowd cheered.
"Congratulations uncle," Iruma said, hiding his surprise at the news. He had not expected him to send an application, the Naberius family is well-known for staying out of politics. His heart gave out for his teacher who had been so excited. "It was well-deserved I am sure."
Narnia sent a startled look at the young boy, understanding the double meaning of his last words. But could not say anything, as he was called to march foward.
"We chose them both because of their excellent capability and contributions to the Netherworld," Lady Levi continued. "And the significant influence they have over a wide range of demons..."
"I disagree!" A strong voice interrupted, as a blond man took center stage.
"Uncle?!" Sabro exclaimed shocked. "What is he doing?"
"There are many excellent demons gathered here," Baal continued. "Don't you think it's a wastee to not elect them? 'Cause I do." Everyone froze and turned to stare at him in stunned disbelief. What was he planning to do? "I understand the need to fill those two seats with new demons. But what if we open one more seat?" His smirk grew, becoming more wicked and deadlier. It was quite the combination with his beautiful aesthetic. "The most noble seat of the Thirteen Crowns, but almost certainly irrelevant to the future of the Netherworld. The seat which has been vacant for hundreds of years. The Legacy of a Glorious King. Demon King Delkira. Let's replace him. Did he say he would return?" Baal challenged Sullivan with a cold glare. "Or have you just been wishing for that to happen?"
"Grandpa..." Iruma murmured, knowing how hard it was for his grandfather to deal with the topic of Delkira.
Those present at the scene were unable to fully grasp the situation.
"Iruma," Alice turned to his mate as the ballroom erupted into chaos.
"I see it too," Iruma replied with a frown, as he looked at how calm Baal looked being the center of all this chaos. "We found our traitor."
But not one of them could utter a word, overwhelmed by indescribable excitement and uncertainty, born of the historic moment they were witnessing. It was an exceptional situation. That is why they all mistook the ground shaking for the beating of their own hearts. And no one realized when a monster crashed through the wall, until it was too late.