The majestic Grand Hall of Berlin, usually buzzing with the localized pride of a sovereign kingdom, was now suffocating under the heavy, severe formality of the German Empire. Inside, amidst the crushing weight of imperial banners and the glittering, silent ranks of high nobility, a monumental political exchange concluded. The King of Berlin, a figurehead of a fading era, had formally abdicated his sovereignty. In a swift, bloodless acquisition of power, the Kingdom of Berlin was now integrated, becoming a province of the rapidly expanding Empire, governed by Kaiser Wilhelm von Habsburg. The former monarch was granted the mere courtesy title of Grand Duke of Berlin, Bruno von Wolfsburg, retaining his wealth but surrendering the hard, governing power of the realm. The ceremony was a triumph for the Imperial faction, a quiet but absolute demonstration of the new order where efficiency and raw power trumped outdated feudal titles.
As the elaborate, high-stakes ceremony approached its formal and utterly exhausting conclusion, the two men whose immediate family honor had just been irrevocably soiled were pulled aside. Count Lancaster, father to the brutally incapacitated Sheila, and Duke Steiner, father to the psychologically shattered Adolf, received urgent, breathless reports from their couriers. The news, delivered under the gilded arches and frescoed ceilings of the Imperial Hall, detailed the cataclysmic events of the First-Year Placement Tournament. They heard of Daemon's unorthodox, annihilating magic against Sheila—the bizarre, scientific combustion that had not just defeated her, but sent her to the infirmary with grave, lasting injuries. They learned of the duel with Adolf: the shattered mythril sword, the terrifying psychological torment inflicted by Daemon's weaponized Healing affinity, and the final, crowning insult—the commoner seizing Adolf's mythril greatsword as his trophy after having already physically and mentally destroyed the Duke's heir.
The details of the report, delivered with barely contained hysteria by the couriers, were overheard by several other influential nobles. The sheer audacity of the commoner's actions immediately sparked a fierce, multi-faceted debate among the aristocracy. The discussion, carried out in hushed, furious tones in the Hall's private alcoves, was less about the tournament and more about the fundamental integrity of their class structure. Count Alden, an elder, conservative noble, was apoplectic. He repeatedly adjusted his jeweled collar: "A disgrace, utterly unthinkable! The insolence of a commoner—an orphan, no less—threatening a Duke's son and weaponizing his magic like some brigand! This speaks not just to poor breeding, but to the Academy's systemic failure to enforce the honor code! Stealing a mythril heirloom is a capital offense against the nobility itself! We cannot allow a commoner to draw blood from a Duke and live to tell of it." Duke Steiner, though inwardly reeling from the news of Adolf's state, channeled his pain into a cold, terrifying resolve: "It is worse than theft, Alden; it is a declaration of war against our family's future. That boy reduced Adolf—the Sword of Dawn—to tears and begging. He cannot merely be punished; he must be vanquished in a manner that restores the dignity of the Steiner name. This is a political assassination of my heir's reputation, not a mere duel."
A younger, more influential group, keenly aware that the new Kaiser prioritized competence and resource acquisition over pure lineage, saw the events through a utilitarian lens. Baroness Elara, a shrewd noble with significant industrial holdings, tapped her fan lightly, dismissing the calls for execution as romantic folly. "Hold your horses, gentlemen. Execution? Folly. You've just described a mage of unprecedented utility. Think of his runic talent alone—he creates weapons that shatter mythril and gloves that defy energy conservation. The commoner's methods may be crude, but the results are undeniable." Lord Valerius, a wealthy industrialist, supported this view: "Elara is right. He's a valuable resource. Who cares about his breeding? The old King is gone; we serve the Kaiser now, and the Kaiser values power and innovation. Instead of killing him, we need to immediately secure his allegiance. Duke Steiner, you should be less concerned with vengeance and more with putting the boy on a leash." Finally, Marquess Richter, a loyalist to the new German Empire, viewed the chaos as a necessary process. "This Daemon, despite his low origin, represents pure, disruptive force. He challenges the status quo through overwhelming, unexpected competence. We should view this as a purging of weakness. He shattered the Duke's son and the Count's daughter. Let him be, for now. His existence reveals the structural fragility of the old order, which serves the Kaiser's expansionist agenda perfectly."
The news of Daemon's victories, his public threats, and the display of unique scientific magic in the arena ensured that he was no longer an anonymous orphan. He was now an object of intense political interest, recognized by the highest courts as a talent that had to be controlled. Several influential nobles, particularly those aligned with the newer, more utilitarian Imperial faction, had immediately set their sights on Daemon. They hoped to leverage his technical genius and ruthlessness, viewing him as a potent, if untamed, weapon to be added to their private armies. Duke Steiner, however, was far past the point of strategic acquisition. The commoner had publicly destroyed his son's mind and soul. The Duke immediately requested every single bit of information on Daemon—his birthplace, his orphanage records, his financial transactions, and every word he had spoken—determined to find a weakness, a crime, or a legal loophole to utterly destroy the boy legally and socially. Count Lancaster, nursing the catastrophic disgrace of his daughter Sheila's public annihilation, had no time for lengthy research or legal loopholes. He was already plotting immediate, direct action to make Daemon pay for his insolence and restore the Lancaster name. His methods would be swift, discreet, and focused not on the law, but on delivering a brutal, physical lesson in commoner subordination.