Gilgamesh hated to admit it, but Sirzechs was right.
As Gilgamesh listened to the last participant announce his desire to win all his matches and become the new champion of the Rating Games, he had to fight back a yawn. It was a nice ambition and all, if it were not for the fact that Gilgamesh had heard that same talk over and over again.
Gilgamesh was standing still, a little away from the Maous as his group stood with him while they looked at the Young Demon Gathering. The participants of this year's meeting were standing in a single row in front of Sirzechs and the Demon Kings, with their Nobility lining up behind them. Gilgamesh watched as another young Demon, someone the King of Heroes vaguely recognized as the second daughter of an important clan, stepped out of the crowd to stand on the podium before the observant Maous and Elders and announce his ambition and surprise, it seemed we had another champion on the rise. That made seven future champions of the Rating Games so far and we weren't even halfway through.
The goals Gilgamesh has heard so far range from defending the honor of his clan to winning all the Rating Game matches to becoming the head of his clan and that was it.
Sure, they used different words, but they were more or less the same goal. Normally, Gilgamesh would have been able to endure all this easily if it weren't for the small fact that there were well over a hundred demons waiting their turn to declare their goals today and only forty of them had finished. That it didn't help that it took them several minutes on average to finish. They needed to get up to the podium, announce their goals, answer any questions put to them by the Maous or Elders before returning to their place in line.
Looking back slightly, Gilgamesh saw that none of his friends were paying attention.
Merlin was taking pictures of the young female demons, Achilles was sleeping just like Mordred.
Enkidu was cuddling Fenrir, Arthur was drinking tea, which Gilgamesh didn't know where he got it, Le Fay was reading a book together with Asia, Xenovia and Valerie, and Leonardo was quiet as he watched, but looking into his eyes he seemed distant.
Sebas was the only one who was visibly paying attention. And Tiamat was now also standing there, but she was polishing some treasures.
It was simply boring and tedious, so much so that, in a desperate attempt to keep me awake, Gilgamesh began to scour the corridor in search of something to keep my mind occupied. The first thing that caught his attention was the Council of Elders, from where they sat in their chairs lined up against the walls.
The name 'Council of Elders' was a bit of an oxymoron and painted a false picture of them. Despite the name, the Council of Elders didn't just consist of old and elderly, there were more than a few young Demons mixed in their number, some as young as three or four centuries old. The Council earned its name because its members were originally supposed to consist of retired clan chiefs, a place where they could put their considerable experience to good use while their children took on the mantle of leading their clan. But after the Civil War, many of the previous Clan Chiefs died, so instead they were replaced by other Clan members, either younger brothers of the current chief or one of the more talented members of a branch of the family.
Despite the large age difference that separated them, the Council members looked remarkably similar. Not so much in their facial features, but in the way they dressed and behaved. They were all severe men and women, dressed in uncomfortable-looking formal clothes, and all maintained solemn expressions as they watched the ceremony, clapping their hands politely or nodding in approval after each participant finished his or her turn.
Whatever their true age, perhaps, with only two exceptions so far, every Devil who sat on the Council looked young, in their twenties and thirties. There were 72 of them in all, each one a member of a prominent Clan, either of the remaining 34 Pillars or one of the less prestigious Clans that had managed to come to power in recent years and fill the gaps left by the fallen Pillars.
Honestly, they looked exactly what you would expect from a bunch of old-fashioned nobles and politicians.
"Sairaorg Bael, step forward" The herald announced.
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Gilgamesh's eyes turned to the ceremony with that name as the whole hall went silent, the murmuring, the dragging of feet and all the other ever present background noises all stopped, as if the whole room held its breath.
Seemingly unaware of the change in atmosphere, a young man stepped out of the line of demons. He was taller, a head taller than most, towering over the other participants standing in line. His hair was dark and his eyes were lilac, just like the other Bael in the room. And like his ancestor, this Bael was an unusual sight compared to his fellow Demons.
As a race, the Demons excelled in their magical abilities, and those born of one of the great clans were usually endowed with magical potential that far surpassed the average Demon. It was for this reason that many of them had slender or even delicate constitution, never seeing the need to train their bodies when they could concentrate on their magic. But not him, this one was built like a fighter.
Even hidden under his formal clothes, the muscles in his chest and arms were clear. They were not the bulky kind you would get in a person working in a gym, but the compact ones of a genuine fighter, someone developing them on the training ground or swinging a weapon in his hand.
Without looking around, he calmly approached the podium, his steps confident, graceful despite having the eyes of most of the Underworld upon him.
This was the Strongest Youth, the Next Great King Bael, Sairaorg Bael.
Sairaorg paused as he reached the top of the podium and looked steadily at Maous who watched with his arms crossed before him.
Gilgamesh saw that for a moment Sairaorg's eyes turned to him and the Demon smiled.
Gilgamesh also could not help but smile at a person he considered a rival and one of the few supernatural beings he truly respected.
"Sairaorg Bael, as a member of the new generation of Demons, tell us, what is your dream, your life ambition" Sirzechs spoke loudly so that everyone could hear his words.
Sairaorg grew light as he looked at Sirzechs with his lilac eyes. A moment passed, then two and soon murmurs began to spread from the crowd as they grew restless. Then, when it seemed Sirzechs would have to repeat himself, Sairaorg spoke.
"My Lord Lucifer" he began, his eyes fixed on the Maou, "Before I answer that question, will you allow me to ask one question in turn?"
"Oh?" Sirzechs raised his hand to stop the objections of some Council members and gave Sirzechs an amused smile, "It is unconventional, but I had asked a question first. Very well, I allow it. You may ask"
"Thank you" Sairaorg bowed his head before raising his eyes again, all his focus on Sirzechs and none of the other Maous, "My question is this: do you know what it means to be strong?"