The two humans watched in shock, never seeing Merlin be embraced in such a way–and certainly not expecting it from the family he always talked about being unkind to him.
That's right…He did talk about a few members not being so bad. So this is "Uncle Belial", huh? Klaus put it together.
The snowy-haired, outcast prince laughed, "Long time no see, Uncle."
Belial placed him back down, patting his shoulders and rubbing them, looking at him with a delighted smile at the fact the young man was standing there again before his eyes.
"Ah, it seems the world beyond Grandzania has treated you well, has it?" Belial asked before looking up at his nephew's two human companions, "--I assume I have you two to thank for that."
"It's nothing," Klaus bashfully chuckled, fiddling with his vermilion ponytail.
Marlow waved his hand, "Merlin takes care of himself well enough–we're the ones he looks after, ha-ha!"
"Ha-ha! I see! You've found some great comrades, eh, Merlin?" Belial laughed.
Paimon was looking at the half-demon prince the whole time, as if inspecting his potential and what he had risen to before nodding her head.
"You've indeed grown splendidly, nephew. I am sure you have much to be proud of," Paimon said to him.
Before the reuniting between the family members of the royal bloodline could continue, a bell tolling brought all of their eyes to the seated Demon Lord.
The bell was rung by the wizened advisor of the Demon Lord, causing the entirety of the hall filled with well over a hundred people, all of high status in Grandzania, to fall silent in respect of the coming words.
"Now that you have all gathered here, let us not waste any time, as my own is quite limited," Demon Lord Baal said through his gravelly voice, "...It's time to commence the Demon Lord Accession."
Those words made each and every potential candidate in the room hone in, focusing intently now on the coming utterances as the true meaning of this event was solidified.
Woah, the air in here got really thin all of a sudden…Marlow thought.
So tense…Klaus thought.
Demon Lord Baal rose a single hand, conjuring eight flames around his fingers, "Eight. Only eight candidates shall be chosen from the deciding tournament–an exhibition of skill, and a qualifier of strength," he continued, "Once the tournament is finished and the ranking of the eight candidates is decided, those eight will not be sent to different regions within Gaia."
"What?"
"Huh?"
Those last few words sparked confusion from those present in the room; the rules had changed.
Even the white-haired halfling was perplexed by this sudden shift, keeping his arms folded over his chest as he raised an eyebrow.
What's this mean? He questioned.
"Instead, the eight candidates shall be sent to different worlds–each tasked with conquering it and turning its inhabitants, resources, and strength into their own," the Demon Lord explained.
The explanation left those in the hall even more taken aback at how outlandish it seemed, though some were excited over this prospect.
"Hell yeah! Sounds good!"
The dreadlock-wearing Prince Asmodeas thrust his fist into the air with a triumphant laugh, already accepting the challenge.
"...Different worlds?"
The thin, well-dressed prince with dark-black hair commented to himself, sipping from his cup of wine.
"Is that a bad thing, brother?"
"It changes nothing…Our goal is still the same," Prince Purson assured his sister.
Another bell toll caused all of the chatter to silence before the bristly-bearded, giant Demon Lord continued, waiting for none to fall silent before his mighty words.
"Do not forget: the order of your placement will dictate the harshness of the world you get as a candidate, and the "System" you're bestowed. The first round of the King Culling will begin–now."
Again, a daunting revelation was set on all in the hall before the many doors of the lavish chamber opened up.
He came out and said it, did he? And here I thought it was a sacred topic in this world–"Systems"--they're unique sets of abilities that evolve and grant specific abilities for the wielder. It's still unknown how they're created, but Father can bestow them…? Would it be possible for me to have another…? I guess I'll have to crack the top eight to find out, He questioned.
"All potential candidates, make your way to the royal colosseum waiting rooms. If you've forgotten your way, have an imp guide you. That's all; the first bout will begin in the next hour–waste no time, my blood," Demon Lord Baal announced, waving his hand to end his words.
Those in the hall were left stumped by how sudden and jarring this all was, but the snowy-haired halfling realized quickly that hesitation was the first obstacle.
"Merlin, are you gonna be alright…?" Klaus asked.
"Don't worry," he gave a thumbs-up, "You two head to the stands, alright? Watch me win this thing!"
Marlow nodded, "But, err, where do we go?"
"Oh…Just ask one of the imps! Just tell them that I sent you!" He explained, hurrying off in the opposite direction towards the crimson doors that opened at the back of the hall.
Before he wasted any time, he moved fast, running down the corridors as he traversed the lavish decor, moving up the various sets of stairs towards his destination.
I'm not letting this chance slip through my fingers. I'll be the next Demon Lord–and I'll announce it loud and clear with my strength, here and now at this tournament, he resolved.