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A circle of metal, bathed in predominantly golden hues, emanated a turbulent aura, almost palpable in its overwhelming intensity. Imbued with the specter of countless battles fought in forgotten eras, before its master vanished, the small artifact, hungry for the mana of its wearer, had its name inscribed in a dark prophecy, whispered after the disappearance of the Demon King Derkila.
By a cruel twist of fate, this ring now encircled the middle finger of Iruma's right hand, clinging with an inexplicable stubbornness. And despite the sudden terror that invaded him when a sinister shadow sprouted, like dark tentacles, from his shoulder, throwing his classmates to the ground with a brutal impact, Iruma, curiously, was not bothered by the fact that the ring didn't even squeeze his finger. Oh no. It was the obstinate refusal to leave him that disturbed him.
"That ring... Don't tell me it's the golden symbol of the Demon King! The Ring of Solomon!"
Those words echoed in his mind, laden with a dark foreboding, and Iruma knew, instinctively, that this was trouble. All his thoughts screamed in unison for him to find a desperate way to catch that owl, which now flew far away among the cliffs, even if it meant throwing stones or sticks. The other demons in the classroom and even the teacher, for the first time since his arrival in the Netherworld, feared him with a palpable intensity, but Iruma couldn't glimpse any trace of something positive in that terrifying situation.
His survival instincts screamed deeply within his mind truly worrying alerts. Every fiber of his being pulsed with the imminent certainty of a nonexistent threat. "_This will not come without consequences_," an ominous warning echoed. Another voice, equally urgent and filled with dread, confronted him: "_See what harm this can cause you!_" The mere thought of the repercussions chilled him to the bone, a cold and paralyzing fear that made him question every moment of his existence in that chaotic world.
Still, a desperate cry escaped when the accusing finger pointed at the incandescent creature. Pure flames? The composition didn't matter. For the first time in that chaotic world, Iruma swallowed his pride and cried out for help. The irony cut deep: the only person he had sworn he would never turn to again after the events with his relatives was now his last hope.
The faint hope vanished as quickly as it had appeared. The unexpected appearance of his grandfather and the clear implication from the teacher – who personally expressed a preference for amputating Iruma's arm rather than cautiously confronting the wild flame to protect the others – made the teenager instantly regret every word spoken and thought in his moment of despair.
'I'm a student too, after all...' he thought bitterly. But in that underworld, who would dare to place the life of a mere _human_ above the safety of their own demonic race?
.....
Iruma carried with him an undeniable truth: he was human; devoid of the innate ability to manipulate magic. However, the ring, a channel fueled by Sullivan's limitless magical power, ironically elevated him to the minimum level of a demon in school age. If the existence of beings like Asmodeus and Sabnock were conveniently ignored, Iruma could even delude himself with a false sense of normalcy.
This false sense of normalcy was also a detail. The reality of being the only human in the Netherworld had solidified in his mind some time ago, and with it, the silent priority that had guided him since childhood remained: survive until something extraordinary happened. He had no clear picture of this "extraordinary" in his infernal daily life, but persistence was his only known path.
Moving forward, trying one more time. That was all that mattered.
"Iruma-sama, would you like a Lunch E? Or a Lunch D?"
Iruma spun the ring on his finger for the twentieth time that day. The habit of wearing the accessory had somehow fit into his frantic student routine, and in calm moments like that, while just walking, it was almost automatic to manipulate the ring's settings, a way to keep his hands busy, only to return them to the simple default.
He smiled slightly at Asmodeus. The pink-haired demon maintained his usual composure, offering options with methodical calmness. But the truth was that Iruma didn't dedicate his thoughts to the meal. He had never worried. "Ah, whatever." Whatever came, would be accepted without issue.
"Then I'll get both," Asmodeus stated with his usual certainty, and Iruma simply nodded, satisfied with the practicality of the decision. Really, the menu was the last thing on his mind.
"Then I'll order a Lunch W!" Clara exclaimed, her voice filled with a playful imitation of Asmodeus's serious expression, before dashing excitedly towards the cafeteria. Iruma watched his friend walk away with a smile.
Alice, slightly alarmed by Clara's chaotic potential, ran after her. "Hey, wait! That lunch has giggle mushrooms!"
Iruma chuckled quietly. In his world, he even risked picking some wild mushrooms, but he knew the varieties here were... well, different. The idea of a school serving something with peculiar side effects left him somewhere between apprehensive and, well, he couldn't quite describe what he felt. A slight hint of curiosity mixed with a familiar acceptance of the bizarre, perhaps?
"Hey, wait up!" He raised his hand, calling to the two of them, and took a few steps to catch up. But a dark mist suddenly appeared, interrupting his thoughts with a sudden feeling and memories that something wasn't right.
It was that thing. The same entity that had drained everyone's magical powers during the first test. Without time to process, his body reacted on instinct. The ring was charged with Sullivan's mana! It was powered up! "Why?? Disappear, evil spirit!!" In an almost automatic reflex, he waved his right hand in all directions, in the vain hope of warding off the threat. To his surprise, the spirit seemed to stop, almost politely, settling back onto his middle finger. If Iruma were a demon, he would probably already be passed out on the floor.
"Are you hungry??" Iruma swallowed hard, instinctively covering the ring with the sleeve of his blue uniform jacket. "But Grandpa fed you this morning!"
The spirit clinging to his finger continued to fidget, moving Iruma's hand from side to side with persistent energy. "Doesn't matter, I need to take you to my grandpa and – !" The movement stopped abruptly in mid-air.
"No, I'm not hungry!" The spirit replied reluctantly.
"But – !" Iruma hesitated. There was a pause, and silence stretched as both remained still, staring at each other. "You... you spoke?" Iruma questioned, surprise etched on his face.
"Huh? Why would I speak? Have we ever talked before? Huh? Hey, listen here..." The sentence died in his throat. The ring also showed no indication that it had spoken until then, or that it was aware that it was speaking.
A dense silence settled in the hallway, which, fortunately empty, allowed Iruma and the ring's spirit to process what had just happened. For the spirit, which had only screamed and drained magical power until then, the sudden discovery of a new voice seemed to unleash a wave of excitement in the conscious smoke.
"Wow! The world is huge out here!" the spirit exclaimed, its voice echoing.
"What's that? A black shadow?" a third voice asked next.
Iruma wished he hadn't been so quick to think the hallway was empty, when three girls suddenly appeared, as if materializing out of nowhere. Without wasting time, he closed his hand over the ring, trapping the talkative spirit, and darted away as fast as he could.
And the spirit didn't stop talking for a single moment during the escape.
.....
"The way you use your magic power is extremely unhealthy! Or rather, it's a mess!"
The spirit was not at all satisfied with the treatment it was receiving. If Iruma had ever imagined that the item he used as a magical accessory to perform basic magic possessed a consciousness, he certainly wouldn't have used it so thoughtlessly!
"Why did you suddenly make me vomit all the magic power I ate? Treat me better, will ya?"
"Eh?"
"How can you be so cruel? If you keep doing that, there is no magical power for you to abuse!"
"Eh? Eh??"
Iruma stammered, disbelief plastered across his face.
He stared at the ring, perplexed. Magic wasn't natural to him. Unlike demons, who had known it since the moment of their birth, Iruma only discovered its existence when his grandfather abruptly pulled him from one world to another, via a rope suspended in the air. In his mind, he would never say that he was abusing the magical power that his grandfather had granted him. It was just... a tool, a borrowed extension over which he had no control.
Still, in some inexplicable way, the ring seemed fully aware of Iruma's lack of mana. It was relatively easy to pass as Headmaster Sullivan's grandson, since the elder demon's vast magical energy enveloped the boy like an invisible cloak. However, the ring knew the truth. Whether this perception arose from a frustrated attempt to feed on the human's magical essence or whether its latent consciousness had existed from the first moment of its appearance, remained a mystery to Iruma.
"Magic is the power to realize imaginary things. And its origin is desire." the spirit continued its monologue, drawing Iruma's attention back.
The teacher's voice echoed in his memory. Right, imagine, visualize, and then shape the power. It seemed simple in theory.
The spirit seemed determined to test him. Iruma couldn't deny that this peculiar form of teaching, if it could even be called that, wasn't entirely useless. After all, his former life in the human world had conditioned him to operate under constant pressure, whether to meet tight deadlines or to deal with the insane threats that had arisen at school. Following orders without question was almost a reflex. Perhaps that was why having Gluttony-san shouting commands in his mind, forcing him to visualize different styles while conjuring magic, proved more effective than traditional classes. Strangely, he felt like he shouldn't be enjoying this chaotic methodology.
The forced study continued, until the door of the storage room where Iruma was hiding for his private conversation with the spirit was abruptly flung open. "Who's there! Do not use this room without permission!" And, ironically at the very same moment, the cheruushiru spell he had been struggling so hard to conjure finally worked, manifesting as a small and unstable blue flame.
Trying to explain his peculiar method of magical training to the student council president proved to be an impossible task. Not while she was wearing that elaborate dress adorned with ruffles and ribbons all over the skirt. She also showed no inclination to listen to his explanations, labeling him delusional before hurrying out of the room, leaving Iruma alone with the residual smoke of his magical success and the feeling of how a pervert was treated.
.....
The ring's consciousness, in fact, had awakened much earlier than Iruma could have imagined. The incident with his senpai, Ami Kirio, had not been a mere accident. Or rather, it wasn't accurate to say it was _pure_ chance. What Iruma had naively attributed to the polarity of the materials, the bizarre interaction between Kirio's necklace and the ring, was, in reality, Gluttony itself warning him about the dangerous nature of that demon.
However, on that day, Iruma was almost certain that the reputation of a dangerous person at school had fallen upon his shoulders. At least now he understood why he had been dragged through the hallways at full speed, closer to the threat that his own ring had detected before he could even suspect it.
The idea of ascending the ranks of the Netherworld had been germinating in Iruma's mind before. Initially, the need was clear: an extra layer of protection in a world where he was a delicious walking dessert, a way to ensure his daily survival without having to rely on his grandfather. However, as time passed, a drop of uncertainty lingered over this ambition. Why exactly did he need to rise?
With the link between this demonic hierarchy and the strange entity that now resided in his ring, should he continue? This connection seemed, in a way, a lucky kick, very convenient for his own good. Despite these persistent doubts, a new feeling was sprouting within him: relief. That talking ring, once a source of apprehension, was beginning to become a peculiar companion, a secret shared between them and them alone, given that even other adults didn't know of its existence, and that it could be an extra source of security that he didn't expect to have.
"Hey, hey, hey!" The ethereal voice cut through Iruma's brief relief. "My master, you have overlooked one crucial thing. My evolution will make people notice me more!"
Right. Right. He was still a secret, after all.
The spirit floated until it hovered very close to Iruma's face, almost landing on his nose, its left elbow resting on the boy's forehead. The unexpected contact made Iruma shudder slightly, a cold sensation running through the touched area.
"There is still much for you to learn, my master," the spirit, now adorned in elegant robes and a single large, bright eye, chuckled softly as it gazed at him with an intense and piercing gleam. "But if you insist, I will eagerly await that, my master."
The vast library remained in its usual dense silence. Iruma imagined that even amidst a roar, his attention would be irrevocably fixed on that singular presence.
"You keep calling me 'My master,' and it makes me a little... awkward..."
"Then, I can call you 'Iru-boy'," the spirit finally moved away, spinning in the air as if pondering something. "And, hum... about me..." it murmured to itself, and only a fragment of the word reached Iruma's ears.
"Alikred."
"Huh? Ariku-?" Iruma tried to repeat the unusual name.
The spirit interrupted him promptly. "Uhm, yeah! Just call me Ali-san! No formalities! Just like that!" A genuine smile lit up its face as it pointed to itself with a playful air. Right, Ali-san it would be then.
"Iru-boy, listen." Ali-san moved closer again, and once more the world around Iruma blurred, the library fading into the shadows. "I'm not your family, and I'm not one of your friends. I'm also not your teacher, nor someone you like romantically!" The spirit's voice deepened, carrying a seriousness that seemed to come from far beyond that moment. "I'm bound to you, Iru-boy. Without each other, we cannot live in this demonic world."
Iruma knew this, deep down. It was a simple, almost childish thought, but well-known from fairy tales: all magic had its price. And that was the price Iruma was paying, be trapped in this ring for your own safety.
"The river of magic and the knowledge of this land flow beneath my feet. And I am here for your, and only your, use, understand? Therefore, it is up to you to figure out how we are going to make this work."
Alikred hovered in the air, small in size, but radiating a force that seemed to rival that of the underworld itself. "We're pretty unique partners, huh?"
Iruma smiled, a hesitant smile, and nodded in agreement. The vast library, with its imposing shelves that vanished into the gloom and the ancient scent of paper and magic, seemed to hold its breath, silently witnessing that peculiar pact.
The flickering light of a few candles cast a dancing shadow on the wall behind the boy, as if something were watching the union between the hesitant human and the mysterious entity.
.....
The Ring of Gluttony remained on his finger, and Iruma, almost out of habit, spun its settings, absorbed in a serene boredom. Devil, Demon, Ifrit, and Pandora. Pandora, Ifrit, Demon, and Devil. The order changed, but the ring's constant presence was a silent reminder of everything that had happened.
He noticed the subtle temperature variation of the ring as he switched modes. Pandora emitted an intense coolness, though not enough to cause discomfort. The dragon conjured during the Battler party had also left a chilly sensation, he vaguely recalled.
For safety, Iruma left the ring on the lowest setting. Ali-san demonstrated an independent consciousness, and despite a cautious whisper in the back of his mind, he felt no apprehension in trusting the spirit of the Ring of Gluttony.
Not when Ali-san was there, a light and silent presence on his back as he sank into the soft mattress of his spacious bed, enveloped in heavy blankets and fluffy pillows. A comforting stillness filled the room. His eyes turned to the open window, through which the cool night breeze entered, carrying with it an almost palpable silence.
Ali-san uttered no word as he watched Iruma's blue hair blend into the pillows, sleep finally wrapping him in its gentle embrace. The quiet in the room was almost absolute, but to anyone watching closely, the rest did not come from the boy lying down. The small spirit maintained a silence that seemed to wait, quiet, sublime, and secure.
.....
The Magician card brings the message that your talents and your own gifts are the keys to your success in any situation you are faced with. It is as if you have all the tools you need right in front of you to ensure that your potential success manifests.
When you are feeling an impulse or a strong desire to do something and The Magician appears in your reading, follow that intuition and things can happen.