Chapter 547: A New Disciple

Despite sensing the eagerness radiating from nearly everyone present, Damian had little interest in hearing the introductions of the newly arrived clans. He could already feel their anticipation, the subtle shifts in their auras, and the countless eyes watching him with the hope that their clan would be acknowledged and granted a place within the new imperial order.

That could wait.

There was one person he had come here specifically to meet, and after an entire month of seclusion, Damian considered the meeting long overdue. He leaned slightly against the throne before looking toward Fulgur.

"Bring in Malachi to me... Our meeting is long overdue." Fulgur’s expression immediately softened into a smile.

He had been curious about this young man himself. From the moment he heard the story of the old man who had fed Damian on his first day in the Underworld, Fulgur had been deeply moved. It was easy to judge Damian through his battles, executions, and terrifying displays of power, but moments like this revealed something different about the Prince.

Fulgur believed that a person’s true nature was often revealed not when they stood before enemies, but in how they treated those who had nothing to offer them.

"Malachi, step forward!" Fulgur called.

An unassuming guard standing near the entrance immediately stepped forward. He wore full white and purple armor, with a hood covering most of his face, and approached the center of the court before dropping to both knees and bowing deeply.

The armor made him appear like any other member of the royal guard, and most of the nobles paid little attention to him until he slowly raised his head and removed the hood.

Beneath it was the face of a young demon in his early twenties. His skin was dull red, his facial features remarkably human, and his hair had been cut into a simple buzz cut. There was nothing particularly remarkable about his appearance, cultivation, or bloodline. Yet Damian’s attention immediately settled upon his eyes.

They were lifeless.

There was no ambition in them, no excitement, and barely even a trace of hope. They were the eyes of someone who had already lost the one thing that gave him a reason to keep moving forward.

Damian understood immediately. Olaf had told him that his grandson was everything to him, and now that Olaf was dead, Damian could imagine what had been left behind. Malachi had lost the only family he had left, and whatever purpose had once existed in his life had apparently died alongside his grandfather.

Damian remained silent for several seconds before speaking, his voice noticeably softer than it had been when addressing the court.

"Malachi, I will start by apologizing for the death of your grandfather... He was a kind man who fed me on my very first day here. I felt ashamed knowing I had failed to protect such a pure soul." The words struck Malachi harder than any formal condolence could have.

His dead eyes flickered with life as he stared up at the powerful figure seated upon the throne. Damian was not merely offering sympathy. He genuinely regretted Olaf’s death, and that sincerity reached somewhere inside Malachi that had remained numb since the old man’s passing.

His eyes began trembling as tears gathered within them, and he quickly lowered his head until his forehead touched the ground.

"Thank you, your majesty..." His voice shook so badly that the words almost broke apart. Damian quietly exhaled.

Learning of Olaf’s death had been one of the most painful experiences he had endured after arriving in this world. The old man had possessed no great power, no noble bloodline, and no influence within the Underworld. He had simply been kind to a stranger when he had no reason to be, and

Damian had never forgotten it. Malachi slowly raised his head again, tears still covering his face, but something different now burned within his eyes.

"I also thank you for avenging my grandfather’s death by destroying the Order of Demons!" Malachi’s voice carried more strength this time, and Damian nodded before leaning back against the throne and crossing his legs.

"I offer you two options. Return home and take over your grandfather’s business with a small fortune from me to help you scale up and take good care of yourself... Or become my second disciple and get dragged into wars that may very well lead to your untimely demise?"

The court immediately fell silent. A wave of surprise passed through the nobles as they stared at Damian, while several of the newer clan leaders exchanged bewildered looks. The offer was difficult to comprehend. Damian had countless powerful figures surrounding him, yet he had personally offered to take a completely ordinary Fledgling as his disciple.

"But sire, I am nothing but a Fledgling. I have no talent or unique trait... Taking someone like me in will only be a waste of your time and resources!"

His protest echoed through the court, and several nobles nodded firmly in agreement.

Fledglings were demons born without unique traits or exceptional bloodlines. They were essentially the ordinary population of the Underworld, lacking the natural abilities possessed by higher races and bloodlines. They could cultivate, work, fight, and live ordinary lives, but very few ever rose to positions of significance. To the nobles watching, Damian choosing someone like Malachi as his disciple seemed irrational.

Damian raised one eyebrow. "Are you trying to say this God is short sighted?"

The temperature in the court seemed to drop instantly. Malachi’s face paled, and he immediately bowed again.

"Of course not, sire!" His voice came out quickly, fear creeping into his expression. Damian watched him for a moment before rising from the throne. "I am human in a universe where much stronger races, like the orcs, exist, yet not only are humans thriving, I am seated here as your Prince after defeating so many foes even though I was a simple human. Even the Prince of Aurelios is a human, yet he threatens the existence of all demons in existence."

Damian’s serious gaze swept across the entire court before returning to Malachi. "It has nothing to do with race or clan. Will is the determinant for success?"

The court remained completely silent. Damian stepped down from the throne and approached Malachi until he stood directly before him. His enormous figure towered over the young Fledgling, but there was no intimidation in his expression now, only a firm certainty that made Malachi lift his head.

Damian extended his hand toward him. "Now tell me... Will you become a part of my story, or will you return to your home and live a peaceful life free of worry and strife? Decide now!"

Malachi stared at the hand before him, then slowly raised his eyes toward Damian’s face.

Shin watched the exchange with genuine shock. Until this moment, he had accepted the common understanding that Fledglings were weak and useless because that was what everyone around him had taught him. Yet Damian had just stood before an entire court and challenged that belief without hesitation.

Malachi experienced the same revelation from an entirely different place. Tears poured freely down his cheeks as he stared at Damian, the Prince’s enormous figure filling his entire vision. Never in his life had anyone looked at him as though his existence could actually matter.

He reached toward Damian’s hand, but before taking it, he lowered himself into a deep bow. When he raised his head again, his tear filled eyes burned with a determination that had been completely absent moments earlier.

"I WILL FOLLOW, SIRE... I WILL FOLLOW YOU TO THE ENDS OF THE UNIVERSE!" Malachi screamed, his voice echoing throughout the imperial court.