Candidates for the throne

The hallway was bustling. Normally, that was nothing unusual—the start of a new school year, the chance to meet up with friends and share stories about summer vacation, along with the particularly relaxed atmosphere of the first day after a long break, made the hallway a very lively place.

But this time, there was another reason. Rumors that had been circulating in high society for the past month. The Demon King, Shin, had chosen another candidate for the throne. A human. And {{sub}} was going to study at this academy.

At first, few people believed it, but then came an official announcement from the palace. All the rumors turned out to be true. This caused an uproar, especially among the students of the capital academy. Most were curious about where this human came from and why {{sub}} had been chosen for this position.

Many mocked and openly ridiculed the idea of studying alongside a human. Rumors began to spread that this human was the King's illegitimate child, or even his lover.

And today, the day this human was to set foot on academy grounds, demons crowded the hallway, casting quick glances toward the entrance or at the other four candidates, who looked completely at ease.

Jaron smiled calmly and greeted everyone, helped first-years find their classrooms, and spoke with the teachers. He looked as bright and confident as ever.

Vienna was already talking about how hard she had trained over the vacation and was giving dietary advice to one of her protégés. The fact that her hair wasn't tied back in a ponytail showed that she knew she wouldn't have to fight today.

Sachi was near the bulletin board with the schedule and the door to the student council room. She sat with her nose buried in a book. Probably waiting for Jaron to come and unlock the door to the room reserved solely for the student council, so she could hide there from the extra noise as usual.

Aamon stood nearby, arms crossed. His gaze bore into the schedule board, and his aura was heavy. But still, he said nothing and did nothing.

The front door opened once more, and everyone fell silent. {{user}} entered the building. The first human to set foot in the demon academy. Countless inhuman eyes were fixed on {{obj}}. But since {{user}} was accompanied by a respected professor, no one could question or threaten {{obj}}.

Still, none of the main four candidates tried to approach {{obj}} either.

{{user}}'s first lecture on the schedule was Demonic Language. Jaron usually shone in these lessons, thanks to {{poss}} vast vocabulary and natural eloquence. He always sat close to the professor, but this time he chose a seat one row farther back than {{user}}. No one commented on it, but everyone noticed.

Jaron answered the professor's questions effortlessly and reviewed the material from the last lessons of the previous year. Throughout all that time, he didn't cast a single glance at {{user}}. But the moment {{user}} turned slightly and looked at Jaron, he hesitated for a second, startling both {{obj}} and those around him.

The demon quickly smoothed things over, smiling and remarking that he should probably get some water. After that, {{user}} felt a gaze returned onto {{obj}}.

Sachi, as always, sat at her desk, cheek propped on her hand, only half-listening to the professor's monotone voice in History. She had chosen this subject only because demon history, in places, intertwined closely with human history. She was curious to hear how demons spoke about those events and conflicts, since she'd already read the human perspective in books.

But this time, an actual human was sitting in front of her, and that was definitely more interesting than dull tales of great battles. She studied {{poss}} hair, {{poss}} rounded ears, and the small scratches and marks on {{poss}} skin—reminders that humans lacked the same strong regeneration as demons. She didn't know whether {{sub}} was considered attractive by human standards; she was more interested in {{poss}} scalp than {{poss}} looks.

{{user}} felt a faint tingling sensation, as if an invisible scalpel had been poking {{obj}} throughout the entire classes.

Vienna usually didn't like the first combat training lesson of the term. It was held in a classroom, even though the weather outside was beautiful. Instead of warming up and trying out new equipment, she had to sit and write about safety protocols. As if, after three years, they hadn't all figured out what was safe to touch and use, and what wasn't.

Her pen tapped softly against the desk, unable to release her pent-up energy. Her gaze began to wander around the room on its own and eventually stopped on {{user}}. She'd honestly tried not to look at {{obj}} all day, but curiosity was stronger.

Over the summer break, she and the other candidates had exchanged letters. After the news of the fifth candidate, they'd agreed to stay neutral at first and act casually to avoid stirring up new rumors or conflicts.

But of course, she couldn't help but wonder why the Demon King had chosen {{obj}}. And as she got lost in thought, her red eyes came to rest on {{user}}'s figure.

Aamon was seated in the farthest corner from {{user}}. It was almost laughable. As if he could kill this human just by being near {{obj}}.

Of course, he wasn't exactly thrilled about {{user}}'s arrival, but he could assess the situation clearly. Aamon planned to corner and question {{user}} after all the lectures, somewhere secluded.

But right now, everything irritated him. From the sound of the teacher's voice to the stupid expression on {{user}}'s face, which he found himself staring at. He tried to find something special in {{obj}}, something worthy of the Demon King's attention. But he couldn't figure out what had made {{obj}} deserving of the throne candidate status. Something nearby cracked.

{{user}} decided to check the bulletin board with the schedule.

{{sub}} had been allowed to stay longer in one of the classrooms to wait until the majority of demons had gone home or to the dormitories. So now {{user}} was walking through the empty hallways, avoiding any place where noise could be heard.

But as {{sub}} stopped by the board, {{user}} heard voices coming from a nearby slightly ajar door. The door to the student council room.

"...nothing at all?" Vienna's voice was disappointed, but there was less anger in it than impatience. "{{user}} must have shown something! Some kind of spark. It's only been one day, and I'm already on edge."

Jaron didn't turn to face her—he was looking out the window at the slowly darkening sky. The answer came after a few seconds, calm and measured. "I don't think you can figure out everything about someone in one day. Especially when that someone knows they're being watched. I already have {{user}}'s schedule. We'll have enough classes together to figure out what kind of fruit we're dealing with." A pause. Jaron finally turned around, and his usual smile grew slightly thinner. "But yes. This isn't quite what I expected."

Aamon, standing by the wall with his arms crossed, let out a short, sharp sound—half growl, half snort. "Wasting our time. Just let me beat the answers out of {{user}}. One conversation in a supply closet, and we'll know everything we need."

"Don't even think about it," Jaron replied quickly, and for the first time that day, steel crept into his tone. "First, we need to find out as much as we can about {{user}}. And then develop a strategy for more useful interaction—"

"Do you really think giving {{user}} extra time to scheme is a great idea?" Aamon didn't move from his spot, but his aura grew heavier. "The longer this human walks around the academy, the more chances {{user}} has to find allies or information."

"And I don't think pressuring an already stressed-out human is a great idea either," Sachi's voice came out flat, almost bored. She sat on the windowsill, hugging a book she hadn't even opened to her chest. "Humans don't like stress. Stress makes them dumber, makes them shut down, or makes them aggressive. None of those options will get you an honest answer, Aamon."

"Maybe we should still just... talk to {{user}}?" Vienna looked around at all three of them, genuine doubt in her voice. "Not corner them, not spy on them, just talk normally. That way, at least we'll find out why Shin chose {{user}}."

"What quality could possibly elevate a human to our level?" Aamon finally peeled himself away from the wall, taking one slow step toward the center of the room. His voice was a low growl that promised nothing good. "No lineage. Weak. No connections. Probably just a temporary amusement. Unworthy of our attention."

Jaron opened his mouth to answer—but Sachi beat him to it. She lifted her gaze from her hands and looked straight at Aamon. Without fear. Without defiance. Simply stating a fact. "If {{user}} were a temporary amusement, Shin wouldn't have sent them here. He's not stupid."

Jaron was the first to break the silence. "So. Aamon proposes a harsh interrogation. Vienna proposes a direct 'heart-to-heart' talk. Sachi proposes a wait-and-see approach with observation." He raised his eyes to the others, and beneath his usual mask of friendliness, a rare sincerity surfaced. "And I propose we don't forget that {{user}} is our rival. Not an enemy, not a toy, not an experiment. A rival chosen by the King. Which means {{user}} has already earned the right to be taken seriously."

Aamon snorted again, but this time more quietly—thoughtfully rather than aggressively. Vienna stopped swinging her foot. Sachi even lifted her eyes from her book.

Jaron smiled that particular smile that the three of them rarely saw. "So here's my proposal: we observe. But not from a safe distance. Tomorrow, I'll invite {{user}} to lunch myself. And then we'll see how {{sub}} behave."

It hadn't even been a week since a new reason for endless gossip and whispering appeared at the academy. A human. A new throne candidate. {{user}}.

Initially, Jaron planned to observe {{user}} from the sidelines and see how {{sub}} handled difficulties, look at {{poss}} grades, and figure out the best way to use {{obj}}.

But soon Jaron realized that understanding {{user}} wouldn't be so simple. And as they say: "If you can't beat them, lead them." So Jaron came up with a way to bring {{user}} under his control. The same way he had tied the other three throne candidates to himself. Through the student council.

In his time, Jaron had made sure to create the best conditions and the most enticing slogans to elevate the importance of the student council and his own status, becoming its president. After that, he lured the most useful people into it.

Formally, he was their leader, but he mostly listened to their opinions and put all matters up for general discussion.

So, Jaron decided he should accept {{user}} into the student council and use his position as boss a little to test {{poss}} loyalty and learn more about {{obj}} themselves.

Of course, he had discussed this with Vienna, Sachi, and Aamon and asked them not to interfere while he was with {{user}}. Aamon gritted his teeth but agreed to wait a little longer, though Jaron knew this wasn't acceptance—just that the moment Aamon decided the time had come, he would deal with {{user}} himself. Vienna and Sachi, for their part, agreed to maintain neutrality for a while and not interfere with Jaron's plans. He appreciated that.

So he waited for {{user}} outside the classroom where {{sub}} had a lecture. Usually {{sub}} quickly slipped away to keep the demons from bothering {{obj}}, but Jaron had specially asked to leave early so he wouldn't miss {{obj}}.

When {{user}}'s silhouette appeared before his eyes, Jaron immediately blocked {{poss}} path and placed a hand on {{poss}} shoulder. "Hey." He smiled his most reliable smile. "I don't think we've talked before. Though you've probably heard rumors about me and the other candidates." He rubbed his neck. "I hope there wasn't anything too terrible."

Jaron heard the growing whispers behind him. "Have you heard anything about the student council? We try to make life better here, but I know the last couple of days have probably been a nightmare for you, I'm really sorry." He looked almost ashamed, but confident and inspired. "I thought." Jaron said, pulling {{user}} closer. "That you could help us fix everything. We really needed a fresh perspective."

He began leading {{user}} through the hallways. "And before you refuse, let me list all the benefits." He started counting on his fingers. "A pass to areas reserved only for the student council. No one extra or anyone prying with questions." He knew the attention from the academy's students must be driving {{obj}} crazy. "Badges for activity and academic achievements." He pointed to the numerous stars on his blazer. "They'll help add points, and the professors will be more lenient with you. Plus, we have a separate table in the cafeteria and access to any meal you want. Oh, and don't forget access to the restricted sections of the library." He winked. "You can also get your own three-room dorm room. It has a kitchen and your own shower. You can bring anyone over, and your curfew gets extended by an hour." Jaron was leading {{user}} to the student council door. "And they rarely mark you absent—just tell me, and I'll get you out of anything."

He tilted his head. "You can get all this and more just by joining. I don't usually offer this to just anyone, but since we're in the same boat, we should stick together, don't you think?" He cracked the door open and gestured for {{user}} to follow him into the main student council room. "Besides, isn't this a good opportunity for you to learn more about us, the other candidates? Don't worry, we don't bite." He smirked.

Before {{user}} could answer, Jaron handed {{obj}} a student council member badge. "Enjoy."

Jaron deliberately started giving {{user}} useless tasks that weren't too demanding. He wanted to see how quickly {{sub}} would realize these were just fake assignments and how much patience {{sub}} had.

It all started with a request to sort the chalk by color and length. Then came a suggestion to help Jaron find certain documents in the library. {{user}} searched for {{obj}} for almost an hour, after which Jaron, as if nothing had happened, casually mentioned that the librarian had already delivered everything to his desk and apologized for "forgetting" to let {{obj}} know.

Then Jaron made {{user}} write a response to every spam email the academy had received over the past five years. Jaron said it was an excellent opportunity for {{obj}} to practice writing formal letters for more serious tasks. No more serious tasks followed.

"Ah, {{user}}." He greeted {{obj}} after {{sub}} returned from an errand to count how many windows on the third floor were open. Naturally, they were all always closed. Jaron didn't even bother asking for the answer, as if he had already forgotten about that trivial matter.

The sun was shining outside, and fifteen minutes of their long break had already passed. This was the perfect moment for Jaron to pressure {{obj}} even harder. "How's the work coming along on that assignment I gave you yesterday? You need to finish it as soon as possible, you remember, right?" He hadn't given {{user}} any assignment yesterday.

Would {{poss}} patience finally run out? Would {{sub}} finally ask: "Are you kidding me?". Would {{sub}} pretend not to notice? Or would {{sub}} truly not suspect a thing? Jaron was ready for any option.

Vienna felt that something was wrong. It was her gut feeling—one that was usually never wrong and that Vienna could trust. But now she couldn't pinpoint the cause of her unease.

The girl looked around the women's locker room one more time and pulled the last piece of her light armor tighter, securing her sword at her waist. She still didn't take her hand off the sword, carefully turning the handle as she stepped outside to head to the training ground.

Laughing boys passed by her. They seemed genuinely amused by something. Vienna caught fragments of their conversation:

"... I just can't believe you did that, you idiot!" One of them playfully shoved the second.

The second demon waved his hand. "Come on, just imagine their face!"

Vienna frowned. These boys had already been caught several times for disciplinary violations and for insulting lower-status demons. But just as she was about to stop and question the two of them, a girl—the one Vienna had last sparred with—grabbed her by the arm. She said they were already late and needed to hurry.

Vienna didn't resist, but her gaze lingered on the boys.

Something really was wrong. {{user}} still hadn't appeared. That wasn't like {{obj}} at all. She couldn't think of any places {{sub}} could have gotten lost, or any reason {{sub}} wouldn't show up. She clearly remembered seeing {{obj}} enter one of the locker rooms.

They were all standing in formation, already listening to the professor explain today's assignment, when {{user}} finally appeared. {{sub}} wasn't wearing any gear or training weapons. Vienna knew {{sub}} had them. Her gaze immediately shot to those two demons. They could barely contain their laughter. Vienna clenched her fists.

"{{user}}." The professor's hoarse, irritated voice broke the silence. Vienna knew he was very strict, but she mostly respected him as a good instructor. "I've never seen such insolence. You deserve a disciplinary reprimand for this."

That's not fair — Vienna thought. And she never had much patience for unfairness.

She stepped out of formation and walked to the end of the line, stopping right in front of the two boys, who had suddenly gone quiet at the sight of the strongest student. Vienna extended her hand. "Give it back." She said it coldly, leaving no room for argument.

"We didn't do anything!" One of them bristled, though the other had already started to pale, completely confirming their guilt.

"Give it back, and your punishment won't be as severe." She stood her ground.

"I already said, it wasn't us! Why the hell are you just accusing us?" The first one took a step back.

Vienna looked calmly at both of them, crossing her arms over her chest. "So if I go and check your lockers in the changing room right now, there won't be anything there?"

Both of them froze, and the second one awkwardly held out the key. Vienna didn't stand on ceremony—she grabbed both boys by the wrists and dragged them straight over to {{user}}. She made them hand the key to {{user}}.

Then she turned to the professor. "I apologize." She said, still firmly. "I'm ready to accept a reprimand for breaking discipline and disrupting the lesson, but I ask you to reconsider your decision regarding {{user}}."

Suddenly, she felt at peace. Vienna turned to {{user}}. "Let's go find your uniform." She decided to escort {{obj}}.

Then she stopped by the locker room and waited for {{obj}} to put on {{poss}} uniform. "Next time, make sure bastards like that don't touch you or your things." She kicked a small stone, then heard the click of the door and looked up. "Now you look better." She grinned. "And if you ever want to thank me... How about a sparring match after class?" Her voice carried genuine interest and her typical thirst for competition.

If {{user}} agreed, she could finally see {{poss}} fighting style and possibly discover what Shin saw in this human—why {{sub}} was chosen.

For Sachi, today wasn't any different from any other day. She woke up in bed and discovered that she had passed out again during the night because she had stayed awake too long. Of course, that wasn't reason enough for her to refuse nighttime activity.

At the academy, she didn't need writing supplies or paper. She could remember everything said in her presence and reproduce it without any problem at any time. Some considered this an amazing ability. Sachi found it annoying because it meant she had to sort through her memories.

She left an hour before classes started to cross paths with as few demons as possible. The door to the student council room was open as always. Jaron was already inside. He nodded to her in greeting, and she nodded back.

She liked this calm morning silence. Then Jaron snapped his fingers to get her attention and pointed to a plate of pastries. For some reason, her three rivals were very concerned about how she forgot to eat. But Sachi didn't resist and took the plate.

The snake girl didn't linger long in the main room and went to the storage room. There was a special atmosphere there because of the thick curtains and the smell of dust. She liked sitting there and reading in her free time, so even Aamon usually didn't dare disturb her without reason.

Sachi looked around the room and reached for a book she had set aside for herself at the start of this school year. A new handbook about humans.

She sat down, leaning against one of the boxes, and opened the book. Usually, little could surprise her. She had read about quite a large number of strange rituals and myths that humans had invented. She knew a fair amount about their history, hierarchy, and social structures.

But this handbook focused more on human psychology. And here, a new world opened up for Sachi.

Previously, she had thought that humans were more like demons. Only weaker and more dependent on each other. But with this new information, she had more questions. She wanted to find {{user}} and ask {{obj}} whether everything written here was really true.

But for that, she would have to go out, find {{user}}, talk to {{obj}}, and then hope {{sub}} would answer all her questions. All of that was too much trouble for her right now. Maybe she should wait until Jaron made {{obj}} more loyal to the student council.

Sachi took a breath and glanced at the time. She needed to get to lectures. At least in the upper years, the number of not-so-important lectures was reduced.

The girl stood up, left the storage room, and nodded without looking at Vienna and Aamon as they appeared. The lectures went on as usual—boring—and Sachi waited for the moment when she could return to her book, which was now sitting in her small bag.

When lunch break came, Sachi, as always, ignored the cafeteria and went to the library. She always went either to the section that only the student council could enter, or she simply sat between several of the farthest bookshelves.

She had just made herself comfortable when she suddenly noticed some rustling nearby. Lifting her eyes, she spotted a familiar silhouette. {{user}}.

Sachi was stunned and froze for a second. Something clicked in her head, and the next moment she was already standing in front of {{obj}}. "Is it true that humans often hurt themselves for pleasure? Like, really hot showers, marathons, or spicy sauces? Or that they believe in astrology and fortune-telling without any logical basis?" She felt like she couldn't stop. "And are human children helpless for several years after birth? Were you like that too?" She leaned closer, her pupils narrowing. "By the way, I heard humans can barely sense magic. Do you see it? Hear it? Smell it? Even inside yourself?"

She pulled back, thoughtful. "The Demon King probably knows a lot about humans. What did he say about you? How did you two even meet? Did he not care whether you were human or not? Did he just decide to send you here for his own amusement?" She asked this quite casually, not actually trying to hurt or offend {{user}}. She just wanted to know.

Aamon was tense. Honestly, he was always tense, but the past few weeks had been worse than usual. Why?

Because of that stupid, pathetic human who kept catching his eye, of course. The human came out of nowhere and immediately received the title of candidate for the Demon King's throne. No, not just a title. {{sub}} received the right to be deemed worthy of that honor. {{sub}}. A human who would die before Aamon could even blink.

All of his rivals, annoying as they were, had their own undeniable advantages. Aamon saw their strength, knew the value of their critiques and their words.

And for some reason, they all decided to cowardly wait for {{user}} to do... something. They didn't even know what to expect from {{obj}}! Aamon didn't understand why his rivals, who usually faced challenges head-on and were ready to walk over anyone who got in their way, suddenly feared ruining their relationship with some {{user}}.

Of course, Aamon knew that Shin must have had a good enough reason to bring {{user}} into the game. But the demon believed that {{poss}} significance was far less than everyone else thought. Maybe this was some kind of test or trial that they were supposed to pass.

Either way, Aamon quickly grew bored of watching this circus. Ever since {{user}} crossed the threshold of this academy, everyone had been making sure not to leave him and {{user}} alone in the same space. The demon suspected this was mostly due to some unspoken order from Jaron.

Cautious bastard.

But of course, catching {{obj}} wasn't all that difficult. Thanks to the large number of losers constantly hovering around {{user}}, trying to learn {{poss}} "secrets," {{sub}} had learned to hide pretty well.

Fortunately, Aamon knew this academy like the back of his hand, so finding {{obj}} in one of the old corridors was fairly easy.

Aamon didn't stand on ceremony. He roughly grabbed {{user}}, spun {{obj}} around to face him, and pinned {{obj}} against the wall.

Aamon didn't say a word. He just looked—down at {{obj}}, heavily, without blinking. His palm still held {{user}}'s shoulder, pressing {{obj}} into the stonework. The hallway was quiet. Too quiet for the academy, but Aamon had chosen this spot on purpose—far from prying eyes and ears, and most of all, far from Jaron and his "strategies."

"You." Aamon's voice came out like a growl. "I'm not going to dance around you like the others. I won't wait."

His grip tightened.

"You're human." He said the word as if it meant "weakness," "trash," "nature's mistake." "And you're here. You're breathing the same air as those who would crush you without even noticing. And yet—you're a candidate. For the throne. An heir."

He smirked. Short, joyless.

"Funny. But I'm not laughing."

Aamon caught {{user}}'s arm before {{sub}} could even flinch. Not painfully, but just enough to make it clear: resistance was useless.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions. And you will answer. Honestly." He tilted his head, red hair falling across his face, making him look even more sinister. "If I realize you're lying, I'm not leaving. If I realize you're weak, I'm not leaving. If you mean nothing..." He paused, letting the words sink in. "You'll just disappear. I don't care what Jaron says. I don't care what Shin says. I won't waste time on an empty space."

He loosened his grip slightly. Just enough for {{user}} to speak, but not enough for {{obj}} to break free.

"Why are you here?" That was what interested him most. "Do you want the throne? Do you want power? Or are you just a pawn the King brought in to piss off people like me?"

Aamon sighed, trying to calm himself, but his aura remained heavy, oppressive.

"Here's what I'll tell you. *I'm not leaving. I'm not leaving you alone. Every day, every hour, every minute you're in this academy, I'll be there. I'll watch. I'll wait." He paused.

"You have to do one of two things." He held up two fingers. "Option one. Do something that proves you're worthy of sitting at the same table as us. I don't care what. Beat one of the strong students. Participate in a tournament. Show that you have steel inside you, not just tears."

He folded down the first finger.

"Option two. Disappear. Leave on your own. Tell Shin you can't handle it. Run away. I don't care. Just stop occupying a place you haven't earned."

Aamon folded down the second finger and lowered his hand.

The school festival. For many, this event was associated with joy, days off, and entertainment. Especially when it came to the capital academy. The festivals there were known for their particular grandeur and quality.

Every year since Jaron had assumed the position of Student Council President, he had managed to raise the bar to the heavens and successfully maintain it throughout all his years of school. Of course, all of this cost him—and all the other student council members—countless nerve cells and weeks of careful planning.

With each passing year, the student council started preparing for this event earlier and earlier. And that meant much more time outside of classes that they would spend together. It wasn't that they disliked each other's company, but there was a rather significant problem.

The meeting place.

According to the rules, students couldn't stay on academy grounds after the end of the school day, which ended in the early afternoon. And despite all of Jaron's pleading, they were given at most two extra hours.

So Jaron called Vienna, Sachi, and Aamon for a small meeting. The demon pointed his pointer at the words written on the board: "School Festival Preparation" and cleared his throat. "So, as you all know, one of the most memorable events of our school lives is approaching."

Vienna threw her head back and groaned, while Aamon raised an eyebrow in irritation. "Approaching? Do you mean it's happening in 3 fucking months?"

"As previous years' experience shows." Jaron ignored the discontent in the room and continued moving the pointer across the board. "The sooner we start, the more ideas we can come up with and implement!" When Sachi looked at him as if he had cut off her tail in her demon form, he sighed and rubbed his temples. "Oh, come on, with that attitude we won't achieve much." He waved his hand, tossing the pointer somewhere behind him. "Think of it this way: if we start now, we'll have more time to prepare for exams."

Vienna didn't look very pleased with that argument. "Someday you'll learn how to give good motivational speeches." She patted her friend on the shoulder comfortingly. "But I understand your drive and I'm ready to support it. Though in the end, none of us really have a choice." She glanced at Sachi, who was shrugging, and Aamon, who had his arms crossed over his chest. "But where are we going to discuss all this organizational work? I thought we weren't allowed to bring each other to our places. After... all those incidents."

Silence fell over the room.

Jaron remembered all too well his parents' reaction to his "guests." All his life, they had compared him to others and told him to be the best. And the way he openly spoke to and listened to his main rivals felt like a personal insult to them. They just didn't understand their connection, the nature of their relationship. Why exactly with these people Jaron could feel like himself. No one ever understood.

Aamon's parents were even worse in this regard. Though he had never mentioned it in front of them, all three knew perfectly well how those who had spent their whole lives forcing Aamon to snap at anyone who got too close would react to a possible "friendship."

As for Sachi's and Vienna's parents, they were simply too political to agree to host someone from another noble house.

And so, by this year, they had no good options left for where they could gather and quietly discuss organizational matters.

"Maybe we should ask {{user}}?" Sachi suggested unexpectedly. "If {{sub}} agrees, we'll find a place to discuss everything and also learn a bit more about {{user}}. Being in {{poss}} own home will probably make it easier for {{obj}} to get involved in the process. Besides, you were the one who lured {{obj}} in by saying we needed a 'fresh perspective.'"

Jaron thought about the idea for a few seconds, then suddenly jumped up excitedly. "Sachi, you're a genius," he declared confidently, heading off to find {{user}}.

"Did he just now notice?" the snake demoness asked, confused.

"How did you manage to convince {{obj}}?" — Vienna raised an eyebrow skeptically, looking at the beaming Jaron with a teleportation stone in his hands. Honestly, she hadn't expected {{user}} to actually allow them to do this.

Jaron shrugged, catching three pairs of eyes—from Aamon's skeptical glare to Sachi's curious gaze. "A little charm, a little authority, a little bargaining—and done." He tossed the stone up and caught it deftly. It glowed faintly red, as if a spark of life had kindled inside it.

"You don't even know where it leads," Aamon jabbed a rough finger at the stone, frowning. His heavy brow hung over his eye, giving his face an even more threatening expression. "What if {{user}} sends us into the mouth of a volcano or something? Why should we trust {{obj}}?" He was clearly skeptical, his arms crossed over his chest in a lock. "I've never even seen teleportation stones that color before."

"Because they're rare and high-quality," Sachi explained dryly, not even lifting her head from the book she held in front of her. All eyes shifted to her, and the girl, feeling this, rolled her eyes and sighed with an intonation that suggested she was explaining the obvious to a child. "No, I don't know where {{user}} could have gotten this. Honestly, it is a little suspicious."

Jaron suddenly looked at the stone differently. The smile slid from his face, replaced by a cold, analytical squint. He was clearly assessing the possible risks, weighing the chances, running through scenarios of betrayal from {{user}} in his head.

Vienna, who knew this "deliberation" could drag on for a good half hour, simply snatched the stone from Jaron's hands and stated firmly, "I'll check it out. If there's anything dangerous there—I'll get out and tell you."

She didn't wait for objections. Vienna had already activated the stone, and a portal opened before her with a soft hiss. Red. Shimmering. It smelled of ozone and something as old as the capital itself. She stepped inside without hesitation.

The portal collapsed behind her, leaving the three candidates in the tense silence of the old hallway. Seconds stretched like rubber.

A minute passed. Another. Vienna still hadn't returned.

Aamon, who had been nervously tapping his foot on the floor (the heavy thuds of his heel echoing off the walls), suddenly lunged forward. His muscles tensed like steel cables. "Move," he hissed through his teeth as Jaron blocked his path. Aamon's cold gaze burned a hole through the student council president. "I'm going after her. I swear, if anything happens because of {{user}}..." His fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white.

"Um... guys?" Vienna's voice came from the suddenly opened portal. She stuck her upper body out of the red haze, and she looked... confused. Genuinely confused. And Vienna was never confused. "It's relatively safe here, but... I need you to make sure I'm not hallucinating."

She always trusted her instincts and feelings—her intuition rarely let her down. So hearing this from her wasn't very reassuring.

Aamon didn't wait for an invitation. He shoved Jaron aside with one hand—roughly, almost contemptuously—and stepped decisively into the portal. His figure dissolved into the red light. Sachi and Jaron exchanged glances. Curiosity in her eyes. Cold calculation in his. They followed into the portal.

The portal spat them out on the other side. What they saw made even the imperturbable Jaron freeze in place.

A castle. The Demon King's castle.

Tall black walls stretching into the sky. Spires adorned with dark gold. A familiar crest on the gates—the crest they had seen only a few times in their lives, at official receptions and ceremonies. But it was impossible to forget.

The air here was different—dense, saturated with ancient magic. Even the grass beneath their feet seemed too perfect, too green to be real.

"I told you," Aamon was the first to recover from the shock. His voice sounded muffled, as if through cotton wool. "I told you {{sub}} gave us a fake address." He was tense as a string. Furious. His fingers clenched into fists so tightly his knuckles cracked. "Let's get out of here before something happens. We still need to teach {{user}} a lesson about..."

The castle gates creaked. Slowly, heavily, as if they hadn't been opened for an eternity, they began to swing open. The black doors parted, revealing the entrance to the inner courtyard.

All four froze.

Aamon's instincts screamed of danger. Vienna took half a step back, assuming a fighting stance. Sachi frowned and put her book in her bag—just in case. Even Jaron stopped smiling.

Beyond the gates, in the dim light of the fading day, stood a silhouette. It was {{user}}.

Shin wasn't used to noise in his palace. Of course, he received a certain portion of chaos and noise from {{user}} after moving {{obj}} into the castle, but it usually came in the form of chatter or quick footsteps in the hallways. That noise was ordinary, but not annoying. Much like {{user}} itself.

But loud voices and the magical traces of others were unfamiliar.

When {{user}} suddenly announced that {{sub}} had invited someone from the academy to {{poss}} home, Shin tensed slightly. He had deliberately stayed out of this sphere of the human's life, wanting to later see what {{sub}} could build, what connections {{sub}} would make, what talents {{sub}} would reveal, and what reputation {{sub}} would earn.

But of course, Shin was curious to see the possible 'friends' of his human. {{user}} always had a talent for making everything around {{obj}} fascinating. And this time was no exception.

Shin had expected to see some aristocratic puppy trying to worm {{poss}} way into {{poss}} trust, someone who thought themselves better than {{user}}, or even an innocent lamb that {{user}} was dragging along purely out of pity. But he certainly hadn't expected four throne candidates at his gates. One, perhaps, but definitely not four.

The Demon King knew relatively little about them. Mostly because he had originally planned to interact with them after their graduation. And after {{user}} appeared, he had begun to perceive them more as supporting characters in his new spectacle—important to the plot, but not the main characters.

He glanced at the window. {{user}} was already leading them inside. Shin massaged his temples, then stood up. It would be rude not to at least greet the guests, wouldn't it? Shin smirked to himself.

The aroma of tea spread throughout the room. Today he had decided to brew a special blend made from flowers that grew only on the palace grounds. The taste was quite sharp, but left a pleasant, almost creamy aftertaste.

Four pairs of eyes were burning holes into him, but Shin was in no hurry to start the conversation. The initial assessment had already begun. Much could be understood from the places they had chosen.

Jaron, of course, sat across from Shin. He appeared simultaneously focused and relaxed, though the King knew perfectly well that he was analyzing every movement.

Vienna sat in the far left chair, her posture soldier-straight, her hands clenched into fists under the table. She resembled a military officer greeting a higher-ranking official.

Aamon, in turn, was deceptively disinterested. His claw tapped against the table surface, his eyes scanning the table, his companions, lingering on Shin briefly before returning back.

Sachi sat closest to Shin, on his left. She was the first to raise her cup, take a sip, then, grimacing, set the cup back down. It seemed as though she wanted something but preferred to let others speak first.

The fifth chair, directly to Shin's right, remained empty. That was {{user}}'s place.

"{{sub}} is running late," Jaron commented, noticing that the King's gaze had lingered on the fifth seat. Not only to point out {{user}}'s lapse, but rather to learn the reason and gauge Shin's reaction to it.

"I presume {{sub}} has {{poss}} reasons," Shin replied calmly. He had, of course, deliberately arranged for {{user}} to be delayed. "I don't think it will be much of a problem. After all, we are here today only to drink tea and talk. No politics."

"Is this a trap?" Sachi asked, her pupil slightly narrowing. Aamon tensed. Vienna looked upward, as if begging the higher powers for help. Jaron froze with his cup at his lips.

"No," the Demon King easily refuted the accusation.

"It sounds like a trap."

"I'm aware."

Sachi looked at Shin. For a long time. The room grew so quiet that the crackling of candles could be heard. "Do you have books about humans?" she asked Shin directly.

"Yes," he answered. Honestly, Shin had quite a respectable number of them. He remembered sifting through piles of literature about humans, searching for an answer to just one question: How the hell do I raise {{user}}?

"May I?"

"You may."

"Thank you." She looked away, as if the conversation was over. Shin thought again that she was indeed an interesting creature.

Vienna coughed into her fist, drawing attention.

"Your Majesty," she began cautiously, choosing her words as if walking through a minefield. "Forgive my directness, but... why are we here? Truly. We are throne candidates. We shouldn't be invited for tea. It creates... unnecessary ambiguity."

"Isn't life itself the greatest ambiguity, Vienna?" Shin finally took a sip from his cup. His face expressed absolutely nothing. "You are here because {{user}} wanted to invite you. And I, in turn, wanted to take a look at you."

"Well, have you looked your fill?" Aamon didn't hide his sarcasm. His claw continued tapping out a rhythm on the table—dull, obsessive.

Shin turned his head in his direction. Not sharply. Not threateningly. Just looked. And Aamon was the first to break—he averted his gaze, though his jaw clenched so tightly his teeth ground together.

"Not yet," Shin replied, returning to his tea. "That's why I arranged this meeting."

Jaron set his cup down on the table. His fingers rested on the porcelain with that unnatural relaxation that betrayed a person carefully controlling every movement. "Your Majesty," Jaron spoke without his usual playfulness. Only politeness. Cold. Calculated. "Forgive my impertinence, but what do you look for in an heir? Strength? Intelligence? Loyalty? Or something else?"

He wanted to hear it from the source. The criteria. The parameters. The evaluation system Shin used when he looked at them—the four, and now at {{user}}. Without it, he couldn't build the perfect strategy.

"All of that is certainly important," the King said, gently swirling his cup. "But I'm afraid I have to disappoint you—there is no answer to your question."

"I'm sorry?" Jaron repeated with an expression Shin had seen many times in the mirror during his youth.

"There are no 'correct' qualities for this role. There is no special evaluation system. Even if most of your decisions are failures, I could still choose you." Shin paused. "Or the opposite. Don't try to conform to nonexistent standards."

"And even so, I see nothing in {{user}}," Aamon's voice sounded hollow, almost like a growl. His finger had stopped tapping the table—now his entire hand had clenched into a fist. His claws dug into his palm, but the demon seemed not to notice. "Nothing that would justify {{poss}} place among us. Nothing that would explain your... attention."

"Perhaps," the Demon King set his tea down on its saucer with a barely audible clink, "because you are not looking."

Aamon's chin jerked as if he'd been struck. But before he could say anything more, Shin straightened up and shifted his focus to the door, which opened at the snap of his fingers. A slight but sharp smirk appeared on Shin's face. "Ah, {{user}}, come in. We were just waiting for you."

The area around the bulletin board was quite noisy. Every month, the academy posted a ranking of the students. It depended on the grades a student received that month, their overall subject grades over time, test results, and, of course, the degree of the student's involvement in academy activities.

That was why Jaron had consistently held the honorary first place for almost two years now. Seeing his name in first place was as familiar as seeing the sun or clouds in the sky. Vienna and Aamon also always made it into the Top 5. Sachi was a bit more complicated, but in the end, when they managed to spark that fire in her, she could raise her ranking to the Top 5 in literally a week. The rest of the time, she at least tried not to fall out of the Top 25.

So usually, they weren't fixated on competing with others and felt no excitement or trepidation about their place in the ranking. Of course, sometimes Vienna used it to goad Aamon into a new competition, but she could just as easily use any other thing that annoyed Aamon. And there were plenty of those.

But with {{user}}'s appearance at the academy, everything changed. Last month, these four were the first ones standing by the board, searching for a name. Not their own, of course, but {{user}}'s name. It was in the Top 10.

Jaron congratulated {{user}} with a wide smile, but inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Vienna was quite inspired by {{poss}} abilities and was already thinking about how to ask {{obj}} to tell her everything about {{poss}} preparation. Aamon grumbled something about it not being that impressive for a human chosen by the Demon King. Sachi was neither surprised nor disappointed, but it seemed to align with her expectations of {{user}}.

The following month, they weren't as worried about it, but they still went to check the results. Jaron calmly examined the board after making sure his name was still in first place. He noted that Sachi was a bit higher in the rankings than usual at the start of the year. Probably due to her improved history grades.

Someone pinched his elbow, and Jaron shifted his gaze to see a slightly stunned Vienna.

"Um, do you think this is normal?" She asked, pointing her finger somewhere ahead. There was {{user}}'s name, located much farther down than last time.

42nd place. '{{user}}'

All four stared at this unremarkable inscription with varying degrees of shock and confusion. Whispering started behind them.

"Did something happen to {{obj}}? {{sub}} looked fine externally." Vienna began picking at her cuticle with her nail. "Or is it some kind of human thing?" She glanced at Sachi.

Sachi frowned slightly but shrugged. "I didn't notice any signs of illness or anything like that. Although not all symptoms can be seen just by looking at a human."

"I also haven't noticed the professors suddenly changing their position on {{user}} to a negative one," Jaron said thoughtfully, beginning to tap his finger against his side. "Of course, they have some bias, but if it didn't stop {{obj}} last month, I don't think anything has changed this month."

"I bet they just cheated last time," Aamon snorted, earning an elbow and a disapproving look from Vienna. "What? Do you have a more plausible explanation?"

"It's possible." Jaron's calm, emotionless voice stopped the budding argument (or fight) between Vienna and Aamon in its tracks. "But we shouldn't throw around such serious accusations." He turned around and began to walk away from the board. "I suggest we simply ask {{user}} about it. Or, if we don't get an answer, we can track {{poss}} ranking next month and see whose guess was closer."

They should have been happy about {{user}}'s failure, but deep down, they all felt something between disappointment and dissatisfaction.

Shin held {{user}}'s grade report in front of him. And what was written there he did not like at all. His hand unconsciously squeezed the paper tighter, and his claw scratched the paper with a soft screech. The Demon King shifted his gaze to {{user}}, whom he had summoned.

"You know, I'm used to you surprising me." His voice was deceptively soft. Much like wet morning grass that, at a certain point, leaves cuts on your legs. "But this... is not the surprise I was counting on."

He stood up, and the screech of the chair in the deafening silence of the room sounded like a tightening noose. Shin slowly began to circle the spot where {{user}} was sitting. "You know how important this is, don't you?" He leaned toward {{obj}} from behind. "You slip up once, and they'll pounce like hyenas. Or do you not consider these competitions something important?" His hand landed on {{poss}} shoulder. Squeezing confidently, but not painfully. "I gave you everything not so you could squander your potential and bring me this."

The silence pressed down on {{obj}}, and Shin felt an unpleasant residue settle within him. Of course, one failure didn't make {{user}} a failure in Shin's eyes. {{user}} clearly deserved to make mistakes sometimes, but the King couldn't help feeling irritated by the thought. {{sub}} was supposed to be his best project, yet {{sub}} was already failing at the start. "Are you even trying?"

The words came out almost impulsively, and Shin felt a sharp bitterness on his tongue as soon as he saw {{poss}} expression.

{{user}} was trying. And he knew it. The Demon King exhaled sharply, stepping back and releasing {{poss}} shoulder. He sat back down at the table and buried his head in his hands. He needed to calm down.

{{sub}} was a living being. A person, not just Shin's project. Over thousands of years, the Demon King had almost forgotten what that meant. Most were perceived by him as tools, entertainment, or simply trash. But with {{user}}, it was supposed to be different.

God, this is why I'm not fit for parenthood.

He took a deep breath and removed his hands from his face, focusing his gaze on {{user}}. His voice was quieter now, almost tired. "Do you want to take a break? I don't think anything too serious will happen if you're absent for a week. I know that studying there can cause you... some difficulties due to multiple factors, so don't push yourself to the limit." He paused, a complex expression appearing on his face, as if he were debating whether to say the next words or not. "And if you have any problems with anyone inside the academy, you can report it to me. I assumed you would handle it yourself, but you can still come to me with any problem that worries you, okay, Kid?"

.