Devilbane: The Broken Demon Heir Emerges As Monarch

The trial began.

One by one, the students stepped forward to face the four stones and the great Bell of Aether behind them.

Some raised their hands, murmuring the mantra —"Vestra Curas"—only for sparks to fizzle and die in the air. Others harder, straining until sweat beaded down their temples, only managing a faint pulse of mana that didn't even graze the first stone.

A few did succeed. Cracks spread across the surface of the first pillar. A corner chipped here, and there. But no one reached beyond that.

Whispers stirred among the crowd.

"Is that it?""Maybe no one will reach the bell…"

Then came Lucien Vaelric.

He walked with that same lazy air, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised at the setup like it was a minor inconvenience. He stood before the pillars, inhaled deeply, and muttered the mantra, with an intensity just enough.

"Vestra Curas."

A glow emitted from his palm—a shimmer of bluish mana—and a small, sharp pulse shot out. It struck the first pillar directly.

Crack.

Only the front stone split clean in half, sliding apart with a soft rumble, he did it purposely.

Cheers erupted from the crowd.

"Finally someone did it!""He didn't even look serious…""Who is that guy?"

Lucien walked off without a second glance, his hands behind his back, already yawning before he sat down again.

Then came the next name—one the crowd had been waiting for.

"Prince Alarion Valenheart."

Roars echoed through the stadium as the prince stepped forward in full stride, his presence composed, regal, confident. Even his posture radiated power as he drew his hand up, eyes closed in focus.

He opened them with a quiet breath, and his voice echoed across the field.

"Vestra Curas."

In an instant, his hand flared with a blinding golden light, brilliant and hot. The beam he released wasn't just force—it was royal, sharp, honed from years of disciplined training.

It struck the stones—

Boom!

The first pillar shattered.

The second exploded.

The third cracked and caved.

And the fourth?

Obliterated.

The light streaked forward, straight into the massive Bell of Aether.

CLANGGGG!

A deep, metallic ring blasted through the arena, shaking the ground. The air vibrated. Birds scattered into the sky. Dust kicked up. Echoes of the sound rippled across the capital like a warhorn announcing the return of a legend.

The entire crowd stood in shock.

Then—

Wild cheers.

Even some instructors applauded.

High up in the noble balcony, Draegor leaned forward and grinned."Now that... was a spell. He is a true prodigy"

Beside him, Sir Vale nodded slowly."He's focused. He didn't do a single unnecessary moment."

Arthur watched from the waiting line, jaw clenched—not in jealousy, but little admiration.

That was the bar now.

And he wasn't planning on falling short. But he is scared if that redish figure from the forest emerges and that he won't be able to control the power.

More students stepped up to the line—noble sons with polished stances, sleeves rolled high and brows furrowed in focus. Some managed to crack through one, a few through two of the stone pillars. Every successful strike brought new cheers from the audience, though the echoes of the bell from earlier still lingered in everyone's mind like a challenge none could match.

Then came some commoners.

Some whispered nervously, others clenched fists in frustration. Their mana was weaker, their confidence brittle. Most could barely scratch the first rock, but very fe manged to break one and some two rocks, still they received lower cheers.

Then a name rang through the arena like a breath of fresh wind:

"Aeris Nyelle Princess of Drakoria."

The crowd stirred, heads turning. A soft wave of cheers rose—not deafening, but respectful. Some simply wanted to witness a royal spell. Others whispered about her beauty, her kingdom, her bloodline.

Nyelle walked to the front—eyes fixed forward, hands trembling slightly. She glanced at the four massive rocks and the golden bell beyond. She could feel the weight of a thousand eyes on her.

Arthur and Toren stood in the waiting line, watching.

"She's nervous," Arthur said softly.

"She'll do fine," Toren whispered, almost as if praying.

Nyelle took a breath. And then—

"Vestra Curas."

Her hand ignited—not brightly, but with a concentrated whirl of white-blue light, elegant and sharp.

The spell launched forward like a spiral arrow.

CRACK!BOOM!CRASH!

In a blur, three pillars shattered, one after the other—like they were made of brittle clay.

The crowd roared, surprised and thrilled.

But something odd happened.

The spell—powerful as it was—fizzled out just before reaching the fourth. No fading, no collision. Just… vanished.

No one seemed to notice.

Except.

High in the noble pavilion, Draegor narrowed his eyes."Did you notice that?" he muttered.

Beside him, Vale tilted his head slightly."It can't be…"

"Her spell," Draegor continued. "She ended it."

"You think it was intentional?"

"Hard to say." Draegor leaned forward, arms resting on his knees, a curious glint in his eyes. "Either way… she launched it with full force—and then stopped it mid-flight. She controlled the burst after it left her hand. That's not something many mages can do."

Vale nodded slowly, watching the girl bow gracefully and walk back to the student line, her face calm.

"No wonder," Draegor added with a grin, "she's a princess from Drakoria."

The cheers from Nyelle's impressive performance still lingered when the instructor called the next name.

"Arthur."

A hush swept through the crowd.

Even among the stands, nobles leaned in. Arthur's performance in the physical trials had stunned the entire stadium—beating the prince in a test of speed, pushing himself through the endurance trial until the very last second. Now, everyone was watching.

High above, Draegor leaned forward with visible interest.

"You think he'll reach the bell?" he asked.

Vale didn't answer. His eyes were sharp, focused—not on the stone pillars, but on Arthur himself.

Arthur walked to the front slowly, rolling his shoulders once, letting out a breath. He lifted his hand.

"Vestra Curas."

Silence.

He felt the flow of energy—something flickered. But nothing appeared.

No spark.

No light.

No surge.

Nothing.

The crowd blinked. Then, soft murmurs spread. Confused. Disappointed.

Arthur slowly lowered his hand, staring at it as he turned away. His brows furrowed—not in shame, but in thought."So it's not magic… That reddish power I felt in Eindale… what is it?"

He walked back to the formation, silent.

From the upper seats, Draegor exhaled. "Oh… no magic, huh? Shame. That boy had potential. If he could use magic, he would be rival to the prince, maybe even surpass him."

Vale didn't speak, but his eyes didn't leave Arthur for a second.

A few more students passed—most failing, a few barely qualifying—before the instructor called out:

"Astrid Caelra."

She walked out alone, cold gaze fixed on the pillars. No emotion. No flicker of nerves.

She raised her hand.

"Vestra Curas."

Her voice was low, composed.

A burst of golden light spiraled from her hand—silent at first, then roaring as it struck:

CRACK—BOOM—CRASH—CRASH!

All four stones shattered in sequence—and just before the dust settled, the spell collided with the Bell of Aether.

CLANGGGG.

The sound wasn't as thunderous as Prince Alarion's—but the precision and efficiency were undeniable. Clean. Sharp. Controlled.

The crowd cheered wildly.

She walked back, expressionless, brushing dust off her sleeves.

Vale narrowed his eyes. "Isn't she the daughter of that prisoner?"

Draegor nodded. "Yeah. I've heard she claims he's innocent—and that she'll prove it."

Toren's Moment

Then—

"Toren Cale."

Arthur and Nyelle looked at each other.

Toren froze where he stood, lips pale, hands clammy. This was it—his last chance. If he failed this, he wouldn't be enrolled. No backup plan.

The instructor repeated the spell to him. "Vestra Curas. Focus. Breathe."

Toren took his stance—awkward at first.

But something changed.

A sudden gust of wind blew around him. His eyes flickered green, glowing faintly. His expression shifted. He wasn't just nervous anymore—he looked… distant. Like someone else entirely.

His hands glowed—faintly at first, then more powerfully. His robes lifted slightly with the breeze. Magic coursed through him, wild.

He shouted:

"VESTRA CURAS!"

A beam of brilliant green-blue light surged forward—raw, wild, and not angled properly—but powerful.

BOOM—CRACK!

The first rock exploded.The second shattered.The third rock was grazed—top right corner blown off—before the spell spun upward into the sky, dissipating.

Silence.

Then the instructor raised his flag. "TWO PILLARS DESTROYED. QUALIFIED!"

Toren snapped out of it. His eyes returned to normal. He looked around. "I… did it?"

He jumped, hands in the air, laughing.

"I DID IT!"

The crowd laughed and cheered along, surprised and delighted.

"Wait—he's a commoner?""He hit three rocks!""That power was wild!"

Arthur stood still, surprised, eyes fixed on his friend.

Nyelle clapped lightly beside him, beaming. "I knew he had something in him."

Soon after the test are finished the head of academy came forward and said its time to announce results.