Ceil sat there, his face warped in an expression of shock.
According to the original Ceil's memories, the Holy War was a conflict fought between demons and the Holy Alliance . There had only been three in the past, and this would be the fourth— the first in nearly a century. It was similar to the two World Wars Nathan had learned about in his original world.
"You can't be serious. But that would mean…" Cassandra's voice was laced with shock and disbelief. Not only was the realm on the verge of war, but there was also another more serious problem.
"What is the Demon Lord thinking?" Damien said, his tone filled with worry. Ceil understood the reason for his concern. The current Demon Lord had not produced an heir. Back on Earth, monarchies, such as England's royal house , would typically trace back through generations to find the next successor. But demon society didn't work that way. There was either a direct heir, or there was no successor at all.
Father crossed his fingers, his leg tapping the ground as he wore a look that only the children who had seen their family go through hardship would recognize—a look that spelled disaster. He slowly raised his head, as if embarrassed to even look any of us in the eye. I saw it, Damien saw it, and so did Cassandra, as they all waited for him to speak.
"There is more," their Father, Carden, said in a voice that betrayed his solemn and despairing expression.
"The Demon Lord, in addressing this issue, has called for a Succession Ritual to be held among all the clans within three years… including us."
The room fell silent as they absorbed the information. All eyes immediately shifted to Damien. Everyone not part of the main family looked at him with pity. Ceil could even hear some people muttering, "Poor child," and, "He's done for," in pitiful tones as Damien lowered his head.
The Succession Selection Ritual was an ancient rite performed when the Demon Lord was left without a successor. In simple terms, all the major clans would choose one heir to participate, and it would be a deathmatch between the heirs until one was crowned the successor to the Demon Lord. These selections were only done when the Demon Lord was nearing the end of his life. But circumstances breed necessity, and the current circumstances were indeed dire.
The primary reason everyone had already given up on Damien was simple: the House of Codaire was weak. Even Ceil, being a shut-in and labelled a lout by his own family atleast by the peripheral branches, was able to notice it ,he knew it since birth even.
An hour passed in silence. No one dared to drink their tea, nor touch a single morsel of food. Even the infants, birds, and domesticated beasts of the Codaire household seemed to have stopped breathing.
Damien had now cleansed his face of all emotion. He stood up, placed his hand against his chest, and bowed to our father.
"For the sake of the realm, I shall happily compete in the ritual. For the glory of our house, and for the Demon Lord, may the night be eternal and the stars shine bright."
Hearing this, Cassandra was unable to contain her emotions. She stood up abruptly and ran for the door, hiding her tears behind her sleeve as she left. The other family members followed suit, seizing the opportunity to leave as well. Damien soon departed, and so did Father. The only one left in the dining hall was Ceil. For some reason, he couldn't move. It was as if his legs refused to obey, and his head felt heavy, as though some unknown, invisible creature was sitting on top of it, draining his life away. He buried his face in his hands.
He struggled to understand why he felt this way.
"I am Nathan… I am Ceil."