The minutes stretched in silence. Algernon was assessing his new quest when the door opened, and Grayfia stepped into the room, clad in an immaculate, formal professional uniform. She paused briefly, a faint flicker of color on her cheeks as she quickly banished the memory of their last, intense encounter. She offered a crisp, immediate salute.
Algernon watched her professionalism with an appreciative smile. "Grayfia," he greeted, his voice warm. "Sit beside me."
Grayfia complied, taking the seat immediately to his right. Soon after, Zekram Bael arrived moving to his left side, followed in short order by the four Dukes (Sirzechs, Ajuka, Serafall, Falbium), Kuroka, Issei, and the rest of the essential cabinet members. They quickly filled the table, the atmosphere shifting from anticipation to sharp focus.
"Sit," Algernon commanded the room. Everyone complied, settling into their seats, recognizing the gravity of the meeting.
However, the three most powerful and knowledgeable figures remained standing, and their faces shifted from compliance to profound shock. They had undoubtedly sensed the enormous pressure of power that had been caged inside Algernon just waiting to be released.
Zekram Bael was the first to emerge from his stupor, offering a slight, respectful bow. "Your Majesty," he stated, his voice laced with awe. "Congratulations on your breakthrough. We can feel that your power has expanded beyond what we can witness."
The congratulation confirmed their worst fears and their highest hopes. Sirzechs and Ajuka, realizing that the man who had defeated them was now dramatically stronger just three days later, were forced to acknowledge the terrifying truth.
The confirmation that Algernon was already proven to be the strongest, with his strength showing no sign of slowing down, made everyone who was seated instantly stand up again.
The room was filled with fear, but it was a fear tempered by an immense, rising admiration. If they could see a limit of a person, they would try to surpass him, but no one can mess with the guy whose limit can't be seen. His unstoppable evolution made him an immutable law of nature.
Algernon looked over his cabinet—the powerful Dukes, the brilliant administrators, and his loyal peerage—all standing rigid in silent acknowledgment of his terrifying, undefined growth.
He let out a soft sigh, barely audible even in the still room. Algernon muttered, more to himself than to them: "Guess I didn't adjust the control after the training to suppress the pressure of my rapidly increasing strength."
Although it was only a mutter, everyone in the room were high-class or Super Devils, powerful enough to hear the words clearly, especially when Algernon made no attempt to hide them.
The collective statement of his immense, uncontrollable power being dismissed as a mere "unadjusted setting" caused a ripple of shared, silent exasperation. Every mouth in the room—from Sirzechs's to Zekram's—twitching slightly.
Algernon smiled faintly, recognizing their simultaneous terror and professionalism. He motioned toward the table.
"Now," he said simply, "Everyone sit down."
The command was obeyed instantly. Everyone settled into their seats.
With the powerful Dukes and ministers settled, the tension in the circular chamber remained focused but manageable. Algernon fixed his gaze on Grayfia, who sat poised and ready beside him.
"Lady Grayfia," Algernon stated, his voice ringing with authority. "Report on the state of the Empire. What has transpired in these three days of necessary chaos?"
Grayfia immediately produced a series of glowing holographic charts on the table, her professionalism absolute. She began her report, her voice clear, concise, and utterly efficient.
"Your Majesty, the transition is proceeding rapidly and decisively. The Dukes have secured their sectors of command."
"The armed forces of the Underworld have been entirely unified and restructured under the banner of the Azeroth Empire, with Lord Sirzechs as Commander-in-Chief."
"Defense forces have been immediately stationed in every major city and territory to maintain the new imperial order, with Lord Falbium as overseer of internal security and stability."
"All other factions—Heaven, Grigory, and others—are under constant magical monitoring by forces under Lady Serafall, though no aggressive moves have yet been detected."
"Necessary resources have been provisioned to all cities, and the foundational locations for the compulsory demon academies are being constructed and will be finished in a week under Lord Ajuka's supervision."
"Lord Zekram has suppressed the most entrenched corrupt clans, cleared them of their illegal holdings, and is currently managing their assets and assigning new, immediate duties to their personnel. Under your policy majority of the clan patriarchs are being replaced by their own members or outsiders and many extinct clans are being re-established. It would take about a month for the situation of all clans to stabilize."
"Finally, all major resources of the Underworld are being traced, with the majority of financial and material resources now centralized and under control by my office."
Grayfia concluded her report with a slight bow of her head.
The sheer scope of the work done in just three days—the complete governmental overhaul, the seizure of resources, and the unification of the armed forces—was indeed unimaginable by the standards of the former, lethargic regime.
Algernon looked over his cabinet, a deep, satisfied conviction settling within him. The report demonstrated how efficient people can be when they are placed in the correct position—Sirzechs commanding the army, Ajuka innovating, Grayfia administering—and when they are empowered to act with absolute focus, without considering political or ethical consequences. The engine of the new empire was running flawlessly.
"Excellent," Algernon confirmed, his voice cold and approving. "I just need to see demon race back on track and surpass its former self soon."
He then directed his attention to the Commander-in-Chief. "Sirzechs, I require an accurate, unvarnished report. Tell me the precise individual power structure of the demon race now that we are unified. What assets are we working with?"
Sirzechs Lucifer, though defeated, delivered the report with the clarity befitting a military commander, a visible sense of pride in his voice as he recited the raw numbers of their species' strongest:
"Your Majesty, the current roster of our power structure includes"
"3 Super Devils being—myself, Ajuka Beelzebub, and Lord Zekram Bael."
"9 Satan Class being—Serafall Leviathan, Lady Kuroka Azeroth, Lady Grayfia Lucifuge, Falbium Asmodeus, Roygun Belphegor, Zeoticus Gremory, and the patriarchs of the Dantalion, Glasya-Labolas, and Valefor clans."
"Furthermore, we possess approximately 500 devils confirmed to be at the Ultimate Class level."
As Sirzechs finished his report, a quiet sense of collective pride settled over the table except Zekram who was covering his forehead. These numbers represented the peak of their race's power—a formidable force capable of shaking entire dimensions.
Only Algernon's voice sounded in the ensuing silence, cutting through the self-congratulation with chilling contempt.
"TRASH."
The word "TRASH" hung in the air, cold and devastating, wiping the pride from the faces of the assembled Dukes. Sirzechs, despite the humiliation, maintained his discipline, waiting for the explanation.
Algernon delivered it, his voice layered with contempt. "I can take over those numbers with myself," he stated plainly, gesturing to the report. "This report represents a failure of ambition, not potential."
His gaze sharpened, challenging the two most knowledgeable devils in the room. "The optimal locations in the Underworld are filled with demonic energy—vast, accessible power wells. And those are the only numbers I can expect?"
He slammed his hand lightly on the table, the small sound echoing loudly in the silent room. "This is unacceptable. The foundation of the Azeroth Empire must be absolute strength, not antiquated mediocrity."
Algernon looked directly at Sirzechs and Ajuka. "You two will work together. Sirzechs, you identify the candidates. Ajuka, you perfect the method. I need those numbers more than doubled, and soon. Consider this your primary objective in this new regime."
Algernon shifted his focus across the table, issuing the final, precise commands.
He looked directly at Serafall. "Serafall, adjust your surveillance priorities. I want you to focus all critical attention on the Fallen Angels. Only dedicate necessary resources to monitoring Heaven and the other factions."
The command drew everyone's attention, signifying a clear, immediate shift in military objective. No one questioned the sudden prioritization of Grigory, but they waited for the rationale. Algernon offered no explanation, leaving the decision hanging in the air, a testament to his absolute authority.
He then looked at Falbium. "Falbium, continue your task as it was before. Maintain order, stability, and ensure the local defense forces are fully compliant with the new meritocratic laws."
Finally, Algernon's gaze landed on Zekram Bael, the Chief of Judiciary.
"Zekram, you will handle the management of the whole demon race for me. You will have the current head of the Bael Clan replaced with Sairaorg Bael. He is, by all metrics of strength and will, far more competent than his lineage provides."
Zekram, instantly grasping the strategic implications, smiled faintly.
"Furthermore," Algernon continued, "the Bael Clan will, from now on, be in charge of managing all the other clans, excluding the four Duke Houses."
Zekram accepted the sweeping new command with a knowing nod and a silent smile of professional satisfaction.
Algernon had a grin on his face as he finished speaking. Let's see if this makes you rise against the current or fall into dust, Sairaorg. You will need to fight your way to secure your place.
Algernon surveyed the table, his gaze ensuring every critical member of his cabinet had absorbed their complex assignments.
"Excellent," Algernon stated. "Everyone except Grayfia and Serafall. You are dismissed. Begin execution immediately."
The dismissed Dukes bowed and quickly departed, their faces alight with the immense responsibility they now carried. Only Grayfia and Serafall remained.
The moment the doors hissed shut, cutting off the noise of the retreating ministers, Algernon's cold, imperial face vanished. A broad, mischievous smile spread across his features, and he leaned forward, his tone shifting instantly from Emperor to playful conspirator.
"Now, now, what's up with the formal, Serafall?" he teased, his voice warm and light. "What happened to Magical Girl, Lavia-tan~?"
Serafall's entire body posture, which had been rigidly professional, immediately dissolved. Her composure broke, her cheeks puffed up in a comical pout.
"You're bullying me!" she accused, stamping her foot lightly.
Then, with a lightning-quick flash of brilliant pink light, her formal Duke attire was instantly replaced by her signature, frilly magical girl outfit—complete with boots and flowing accessories. She struck a dynamic, exaggerated pose near the table.
"Fine!" Serafall declared with theatrical flourish, launching into a joyful, off-key song about justice and love. "The Empire needs its hero! Magical Girl Sera-tan is here to save the day!"
Algernon laughed, genuinely amused, as Grayfia—the perpetual administrator—simply adjusted the holographic map on the table, her maintained perfect, professional face cracking while witnessing the delightful absurdity.
"Truly magnificent, Serafall," he praised. "A flawless activation of the magical girl persona. Your stage presence is certainly Duke-worthy."
Serafall, glowing with pride and surrounded by the pastel magic of her outfit, posed dramatically. "Thank you, thank you! It's important the Emperor gets a proper, high-energy welcome when he leaves the battlefield! Now, tell me, Your Majesty," she asked, skipping closer, "did that performance settle all the anxieties of your day?"
Algernon smiled, shaking his head.
Serafall pouted playfully. "Boo! You're making this harder. I know! We should celebrate your victory tonight with cake and a giant magical parade! That always works!"
"A parade is tempting," Algernon conceded, his gaze drifting thoughtfully toward the holographic map that still faintly glowed on the table. He took a long, slow breath, his voice softening almost to a whisper.
"Before we schedule the revolution's official celebratory parade, Serafall..." Algernon asked, his tone suddenly transitioning to one of pure, casual curiosity, yet retaining a core seriousness. "Do you know of a girl named Ingvild Leviathan?"
(END OF CHAPTER)
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