The president strode onto the podium and, without so much as a gesture, his presence hushed the room. His first words were sharp:
"Ingrates, be seated, all of you."
Chairs scraped against the polished floor as every demon obeyed, the chatter silenced into uneasy stillness.
He looked over the hall with contempt before finally speaking.
"I welcome each and every rotten husk that dares call itself demon to this beautiful gathering, though your presence will most likely stain it."
The insult drew smirks and stiffened jaws across the crowd, but none dared speak.
The president continued, voice heavy with pride.
"Last year, I stood here as one of you. I remember this ceremony well, the day I crossed into Grade Five, the day I rose as president of the Lesser Demon Association. Back then, I set goals for myself, goals I vowed to achieve before my time as president ended."
He paused, letting the weight of his next words hang in the air.
"I am glad to say I achieved them all. And tonight, I graduate. I pass on my mantle as I step into Grade Six, into the ranks of the Upper Demons, where I will stand at the mercy of higher grades. A new beginning. A trial not unlike starting at Grade One again. And I welcome it."
A glint flashed in his eyes as his voice sharpened.
"Just as I conquered here, so shall I conquer there. And let this serve as an example to you all, set your sights on your goals and achieve them by any means possible. Any means. We are demons. There is no right or wrong way to be one. There is only the demonic way."
His final words thundered across the hall.
"So celebrate with me, scum of humanity and spawn of hell! Celebrate our hard work and our success!"
The room erupted into claps and cheers, though many only clapped to avoid standing out.
Then came the moment of transition. The new council members were called up to the stage, standing in neat rows before the former council as the mantle of leadership was formally passed.
But amid the applause and ceremony, whispers began to ripple through the hall. Not every Grade Five was dressed in the dignified tuxedo of promotion. A few, most glaringly the Vice President himself, wore only their usual suits.
It was an unmistakable signal. They had failed to ascend.
Out of twenty-seven Grade Fives, three had not crossed into Grade Six. And not just any three: the Vice President himself, along with council members Asmeryn Damaruk and Séraphine Velzira.
Gasps, murmurs, and disbelief spread like wildfire. Two council members failing was shocking enough, but the Vice President? The strongest demon among the Lesser Demons? If anyone was meant to ascend, it was him.
And yet here he stood, repeating his grade.
Renny's eyes kept flicking toward the Vice President, unsettled by the piercing stares that occasionally locked onto him. Whenever their eyes met, Renny quickly looked away. His chest tightened as the truth began to piece itself together.
The Vice President's failure to ascend couldn't be coincidence. And from the way things had unfolded, he had likely been part of the Royals' plans as well.
That meant Leila's death was not only personal, because she had been his girlfriend, but tragic in another way: she was never meant to die at all. She was supposed to be here tonight. It was Renny who was meant to die.
But against every plan, every careful calculation, it was him who now sat among the gathered demons, while she was gone.
His gaze flicked briefly toward the Vice President again. That piercing stare hadn't softened once. And then there was Seraphine Velzira, staying behind as well. Could her failure, and Asmeryn's too, be tied to the same twisted reason?
All three of them… had they remained behind because of him?
The thought coiled around his mind, whispering possibilities too heavy to grasp. But Renny forced himself to push it aside.
This was neither the time nor the place.
He forced his mind back to the ceremony, ignoring the occasional sharp gazes from the three that seemed to single him out.