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The cheers of the crowd had long since faded into a distant memory, replaced by the silent hum of teleportation magic. One moment, Algernon was standing before the Satans in their opulent viewing chamber; the next, he was alone, standing on a hill overlooking a vast, silent valley. The air was cool and crisp, carrying the scent of wild, untamed magic.
This was his new territory. The land of the Elias Clan, a once-proud Pillar family that had been wiped from existence during the Great War five hundred years ago.
The Satans hadn't just given him a title; they had given him a ghost. The land was beautiful but desolate. Stone ruins of an ancient city lay scattered across the valley floor, their marble spires shattered and their great halls reduced to rubble. It was a scar on the Underworld, a stark reminder of the war's true cost. The territory had been abandoned for centuries, its magic left to run wild, making it a haven for stray demons and monstrous beasts. No one had dared to claim it until now.
A shimmering scroll appeared in Algernon's hand, a message from Sirzechs. He unrolled it, his crimson eyes scanning the elegant script.
Algernon Gremory, of the newly appointed Azeroth Clan.
The territory of the former Elias Clan is now yours. This is your first and most critical test. If you can tame this land and restore it to its former glory, it will be the seat of your new power. You must prove you can not only defeat an enemy in combat but also rebuild a legacy from the ashes of the past. Your first official task as a Pillar is to bring this land under your control. The Underworld watches, Algernon. Do not fail.
Algernon's smirk returned. This wasn't just a challenge; it was an opportunity. This wasn't a territory handed down to him, filled with established nobles and ancient grudges. This was his to claim, his to shape. A blank canvas on which to paint his legacy. He clenched the scroll in his hand, his thoughts turning to the three he had claimed.
"Show yourselves," he commanded, his voice echoing across the silent valley.
Three crimson-black chess piece, shimmering with mutated magic, burst from his body and landed on the ground before him. They pulsed with an eerie light, then transformed into the forms of his new peerage.
The first was a young, silver-haired boy with bright blue eyes, his form radiating an overwhelming power that felt both demonic and draconic. His four pairs of blue-black wings unfurled, a magnificent sight. This was Vali Lucifer, his Pawn, and a new kind of terror. He was no longer a mere High-Class Devil Dragon but had reached the Ultimate Class Peak with the newfound mastery of his powers. His Divine Dividing was now fully awakened to Balance Breaker, and the powerful Juggernaut Drive was now an unlocked ability he could control. The dark light of his Lucifer blood also shimmered with newfound strength.
Beside him stood another boy, this one with spiky brown hair and a confident, if slightly goofy, grin. Three pairs of red-black wings appeared on his back, a sign of his ascension. Issei Hyoudou, his Pawn, was no longer a Mid-Class Devil. The Boosted Gear now rested comfortably on his arm in its Balance Breaker form, and he had reached High-Class Peak. The look in his eyes held an untamed power, a true Red Dragon Emperor in the making.
And finally, a young girl with flowing black hair and golden eyes stood before him. The aura of a Nekomata intertwined with a Devil's power swirled around her. Four pairs of crimson-black wings appeared on her back, shimmering with an enchanting magic. This was Kuroka, his Bishop, a Half-Devil, Half-Nekomata. Her Youjutsu had reached an astounding 90% proficiency, while her mastery over Senjutsu was now at 85%. Her Touki, an incredible feat for a demon, was at 70%. She had surpassed all expectations and reached Ultimate Class, a testament to her unique potential and the power of his mutated piece.
Algernon looked at the three of them—the White Dragon Emperor, the Red Dragon Emperor, and the legendary Nekomata. He hadn't just claimed a powerful peerage; he had claimed three of the most powerful beings in their generation.
"Welcome to the Azeroth Clan," Algernon said, his voice ringing with authority and a hint of pride. "This land is ours now. We will rebuild it and make it a testament to our strength. We will show them that we are not bound by blood or by a long-dead legacy. We are the new rulers of this world."
Vali smirked, a hint of his old arrogance returning. "This place is a mess, King. But I suppose it's a fitting challenge for a King with a peerage like ours."
Issei, ever the straightforward one, simply looked at the massive ruins. "Looks like we have a lot of work to do."
Kuroka's golden eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. "A new home, nya~. Let's make it a place worthy of our King, ne, Issei-chan?"
Algernon smiled. He had come to the Underworld to prove his strength, but he was no longer alone. He had a family, a legacy, and a new world to conquer. He raised his hand, the crimson glow of the Power of Destruction pulsing to life in his palm. It wasn't a destructive sphere he was creating, but a focused beam, a tool for creation. He would make this land his, one stone at a time. This was more than a new chapter; it was the foundation of his immortal legacy. The Azeroth Clan would be born from the very ground of a forgotten past.
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The crimson sun of the Underworld cast long shadows over the shattered spires of the Elias Clan's former home. Algernon stood at the edge of a crumbling plaza, his peerage standing behind him. Issei was already sweating, envisioning years of manual labor, but Algernon's smirk told a different story.
"This won't be a typical rebuilding project," he announced, his voice ringing with authority. "I didn't spend a year fighting in the arena just for recognition. I accumulated resources."
As he spoke, he held out a hand, and a large, dark-red crystal appeared, humming with potent demonic energy. "This is a Demonic Core, a dense and powerful energy source. It can power an entire city for decades." He tossed it to Vali, who caught it with a curious glance. "Vali, use your power to channel it into the very earth. Don't divide its power, but reflect it. Force the land to absorb its energy and re-awaken."
Vali's smirk returned. "An interesting challenge, King. Rebuilding with brute force. I like it." He planted the core in the ground, his eyes glowing with power as he began to reflect the core's energy back into the earth, his control over his powers now absolute. A low rumble spread across the land, and the shattered stone around them began to glow with a soft, crimson light as the magical ley lines of the old clan territory re-activated.
Next, Algernon turned to Kuroka. "One of my prize for my victory was a contract with the Underworld's Master Forgers—a family of dwarves and cyclops. Their specialty is magical construction. We won't be rebuilding this city stone by stone. We'll build it with magic."
He extended a hand, and a stack of intricately folded contracts materialized, which he handed to Kuroka. "Use your spatial manipulation. Create a permanent gate from here to the Master Forgers' workshop. Supervise the construction, and make sure they build our city in a way that is both structurally sound and magically infused. I want a city that breathes with power."
Kuroka's golden eyes twinkled. "Creating a permanent gate, nya? And managing grumpy dwarves? What a pain, but my Bishop piece is telling me it's a good idea. Leave it to me, King." She took the contracts, and with a graceful wave of her hand, a shimmering gate appeared out of thin air, a testament to her mastery over spatial magic.
Finally, Algernon turned to Issei, who was watching in awe. "My final prize, for defeating my last opponent," he said, and a massive, crystalline cube appeared in his hands. "A Demonic Resource Vault. It contains all the riches, resources, and rare materials I have won. We have everything we need, from enchanted metals for our defenses to rare herbs for our infirmary. Issei, your job is to begin transporting these materials to our newly formed city. You'll be the backbone of our construction."
Issei's eyes widened. "Woah! You mean all that stuff? Seriously? That's awesome, man! Leave it to me, King!" He grinned, his Boosted Gear glowing brightly as he touched the vault, ready to prove his worth.
As Algernon watched his peerage begin their tasks, he felt a profound sense of satisfaction.
A month passed in a blur of dust, light, and sound. From the quiet hilltop where he first stood, Algernon watched as a magnificent city rose from the shattered remains of the old. It was a far cry from the desolate, forgotten ruins it had been.
The Master Forgers, working under Kuroka's strict supervision, had used their enchanted craft to create a city that seemed to be growing, not built. Spire rose from rubble, walls formed from condensed earth, and streets paved themselves with polished black stone.
Vali's constant channeling of the Demonic Core's energy filled the land with a powerful, invigorating aura, making the very air crackle with potential. Issei's relentless work with the Boosted Gear ensured a steady flow of resources.
The new capital of the Azeroth Clan, which Algernon named Aethelgard, was a masterpiece of magical architecture. Its towering spires were infused with Demonic Power, and its central castle, the Crimson Keep, glowed with the destructive energy that was Algernon's signature. The city was a blend of old-world grandeur and modern magical convenience, with a defensive barrier so strong it could withstand an assault from a Satan-Class opponent.
The transformation was so rapid, so miraculous, that news of it spread like wildfire throughout the Underworld. At first, it was just a rumor. Then, low-class demons, wanderers, and those without a home began to migrate to this new, vibrant territory. They were a diverse group: demons from branch houses, stray devils with no affiliation, and even a few outcast mages and magical creatures.
They came seeking refuge, opportunity, and a place to belong. Algernon welcomed them all. He established laws based on merit, not blood, and he offered a chance for anyone to rise based on their strength and loyalty.
This wasn't enough, however. Algernon's ambition stretched beyond just building a city. He had a grander purpose. His peerage also opened the Azeroth Academy, a magical school dedicated to training the next generation of demons. The academy wasn't focused on traditional noble arts. Instead, it taught combat, strategy, and the practical application of magic.
Issei, with his innate kindness and growing strength, proved to be an excellent, if unconventional, mentor for the young, aspiring demons. Vali, on the other hand, was an exacting and brutal instructor, pushing his students to their absolute limits and teaching them to find power where there seemed to be none. Kuroka, with her vast knowledge of Youjutsu and Senjutsu, taught the more complex and nuanced forms of magic. The academy was a place for any demon, regardless of their origin, to hone their abilities and become a powerful warrior.
Algernon stood at the top of the Crimson Keep, his crimson eyes scanning his new domain. The residents of Aethelgard looked up to him not as a ruler, but as a King who had earned his place. With his city now a thriving hub of activity and his academy a breeding ground for future power. His quest was to conquer the world, one territory at a time. The world was his game, and he had just made his first move.