Justinian stared with his eyebrows raised high at the Orange Prince. The words questioning the identity of Franciscus, who was also confounded by the question, had meanwhile spread throughout the hall.

  "What does one of the parties mean?" the Speaker asked. "Is the agreement to be withdrawn?"

  The Prince gave him an intense look and sat more comfortably on his throne. In his right hand, he held a hellish newspaper from another dimension, which he had been perfunctorily reading during the trial's duller moments.

  "No, the agreement should be carried out. I merely want reliable confirmation that this devil is Franciscus de Deviliare."

  Aldona, in her place as the defendant's counsel, furrowed her brows angrily at these words.

  "What is this nonsense?!" she asked in a raised tone, openly showing her thoughts.

  "Silence!" the devil shouted back at her, outraged that someone would raise their voice at him. "Is it not natural that if we agreed to the release of Franciscus de Deviliare, I must have confirmation that it is him?"

  "But..." the young man wanted to interrupt, thinking about the idiocy of this argument.

  "No buts! The child must confirm his identity, or there is no deal! What if he's some kind of impostor!?" the prince exclaimed immediately.

  The Speaker of the hall, for the first time this evening, was somewhat troubled by the situation, but he finally turned to Aldona.

  "Does the defense agree to verify the defendant's identity?"

  "Have you all gone completely mad? End this farce and release him!"

  The noblewoman, of course, was not one to be trifled with and immediately spoke her mind. To her surprise, however, the situation was becoming more and more absurd.

  "Providing a false identity is a very serious crime, punishable by the breaking of limbs..." the Speaker was explaining, when Franciscus himself finally spoke up.

  He looked around the hall, then with a nod, he thanked Justinian and Aldona for defending him, but this was something that depended on him.

  "What proof do you want?" he asked, looking the Orange Prince in the eye. As a nobleman, he placed great importance on tradition and knew that even if Redland was not noble territory, the customs of the 66th dimension held great weight here.

  The orange devil nodded, appreciating the gesture, and proceeded to his expectations, which he considered natural.

  "It's very simple," he said. "You must simply present the essence of your cultivation stone."

  Franciscus pondered for a moment, but ultimately saw nothing strange in the idea. He nodded, and a moment later, a parchment materialized in his hand. Drawn on it was an ant, surrounded by observations on the creature's industrious nature.

  "Is that all?" the 12-year-old devil asked in an indifferent tone.

  His interlocutor nodded, then turned to the Speaker.

  "It is exactly as I feared," he said calmly, then let his gaze wander over the devils in the assembly.

  "This child is a common impostor, and the proof of my words is right here in my hand!"

  And there, he held nothing other than the hellish newspaper he had been glancing at from time to time.

  An uproar immediately arose in the hall, greater than during all the previous cases and discussions.

  "The nephew of the famous poet is an impostor?!"

  "I saw him once with the pamphleteer, and there was indeed a tense atmosphere between them!"

  "What proof is he even talking about?"

  The comments immediately roused the previously drowsy crowd, and the atmosphere changed decidedly. Everyone was now trying to see what was in the prince's newspaper, who naturally enjoyed being the center of attention.

  'This is an incredibly serious matter,' his expression seemed to say as he rose from his throne and approached the Speaker with a confident stride to hand over the newspaper.

  "That issue is from twenty years ago!" someone in the crowd shouted.

  These words brought even more confusion. Everyone now began to look at the surprised Franciscus, who... was clearly much younger.

  The Speaker, after a brief consultation with the prince, opened the newspaper to page 5 and ran his eyes over its contents. It didn't take long for him to frown and sigh, looking at the devilish child.

  "The accused must provide other proof of his identity."

  In the newspaper he had passed to the assembly, a statement by Arouet de Deviliare was underlined: "The symbol of my family's bloodline is the monkey."

  While at first excited gasps could be heard, a moment later, absolute silence fell. This was because throughout the entire 66th dimension... impersonating a nobleman was punishable by death!

  Aldona turned pale, and Justinian clenched his fists in fury.

  "What the hell are you playing at?" he hissed at the prince, who was once again sitting on his throne with a grave expression.

  "Me? All I care about is upholding justice," Shedim Medaiash answered ceremoniously and spat, wanting to avoid a reaction from the world. In his eyes, however, there was a visible mockery.

  Franciscus, though he seemed surprised by the whole affair, had not lost his typical composure. He addressed the Speaker with respect.

  "What proof do you require?"

  "Well..." the old devil scratched his head. He usually just presided over the assembly's proceedings and never had to ponder such matters.

  The Orange Prince, who seemed prepared for such a turn of events, came to his aid.

  "And what proof can you provide?" he asked, maintaining his earlier seriousness.

  "I..." Franciscus hesitated.

  The truth was, he had nothing with him that would clearly confirm he was from the de Deviliare family. He found himself in a trap with no way out, and his fate was no longer entirely in his own hands.

  "Just as I thought," the prince nodded and began to stroke his jaw, as if considering a very difficult dilemma.

  At the same time, several previously bribed individuals in the assembly, unmistakably recognizing this as a prearranged signal, raised their voices.

  "This is a disgrace!"

  "We want equality before the law!"

  "The criminal must be convicted!"

  Meanwhile, a drop of sweat began to run down the Speaker's temple. He had seen a lot during his long political career, but killing a child? And one who might actually be related to a de Deviliare? The consequences would be unimaginable.

  He was shaken from his reverie by Aldona's indignant cry.

  "Shut up, you stupid lackeys!" she hissed directly at the bribed devils. "I have a solution to this idiotic problem."

  In her hand, she clutched the magic pipe that Justinian had given her earlier. The Orange Prince felt magical energy emanating from it and frowned, preparing for a possible attack. The other devils also began to panic a little.

  The noblewoman then turned to her ally:

  "Totius, an injustice is happening here!"

  Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through the hall, causing some of the devils without any cultivation to step back. The candlelight flickered, and outside, lightning struck. Doctor Totius had arrived at the hall of the people's assembly in Ukuun.

  "Injustice..." he said in a mystical, majestic tone with glowing eyes. "...has no right to exist."

  The assembled devils stared at his magnificence with wide-open eyes. Many of them even gasped when this incredible spirit revealed himself. Wisdom emanated from his eyes, like that of the prophets from the holy devilish scriptures.

  "What... what is that?!" the Orange Prince asked with a grim face.

  Evidently, the energy coming from the spirit was terrifying to him, and possessing such a powerful artifact could not be a coincidence.

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  Justinian smiled calmly for the first time in a long while, and the old Speaker immediately reached for the book of regulations to see if spirits could be summoned as witnesses... or experts.

  "The spirit may be admitted to the proceedings," he finally sighed; he'd had enough of this twisted day.

  Aldona, also calmed, explained the matter to Doctor Totius. After a few minutes of summary, he nodded.

  "I now understand the matter and am prepared to pass judgment," he said, much to the unbearable grimace on the prince's face. "You did well to turn to me."

  The noblewoman sighed slightly. Although she really didn't want to cooperate with this irritating doctor, his help here would be truly invaluable.

  The entire hall watched the semi-transparent apparition in concentration, awaiting its verdict. It seemed that even the storm above the assembly building was waiting for what he would say.

  "As the holy books say: he who opens his lips wide harms himself." As soon as he opened his mouth, lightning struck the roof, but this did not frighten the doctor. "Franciscus asked how he could prove his identity, thus he opened his lips wide, and whatever happens to him is just, like everything else in this world."

  "What did you just say..." the Orange Prince began to shout, when he realized something wasn't right here.

  The confounded devils began to ponder his words, frowning, and even the storm standing over the building hesitated.

  Seeing this, even the old Speaker was in shock and had to ask.

  "So, does the witness for the defense confirm that the accused should be punished?"

  Totius looked at him with a piercing gaze.

  "It is not a matter of 'should,' but of necessity! Everything in this world is just, and to claim otherwise is mere slander!" he announced proudly.

  "You fool, what the hell are you saying?! Can't you see this child is about to die?!" a furious Aldona finally shouted. Her previous feelings about Totius were only confirmed.

  Justinian, in terror, tried to understand what this spirit was trying to do, and the Orange Prince burst into loud laughter.

  "It is indeed a sad fate, yet necessary to maintain the greater justice," the spirit declared, full of self-assurance, before disappearing, evidently having used up all the energy he had gathered since the previous night.

  "Even that strange cleric said it should be done!"

  "But shouldn't we ignore him? He's a human priest, after all!"

  "Did you see how the storm stopped attacking him when he presented his point of view?!"

  Absolutely everyone in the hall was bewildered, and no one knew what to do. Franciscus remained silent, and Justinian was frankly fed up with everything that was happening.

  "Silence, please," the Speaker said, which was, of course, ignored. "What does the prosecution move for?" he asked, turning to the laughing prince.

  After controlling his laughter, Shedim Medaiash immediately adopted a dignified expression—like someone about to decide the life and death of a convict. With this gravity, he said:

  "We will not stoop to human standards and kill a child. It will be enough to take from him the tool of his crime." He snapped his fingers, and his servant from the police force entered the hall, carrying Franciscus's confiscated belongings.

  Among them... was his notebook, signed "Franciscus de Deviliare."

  As the servant's steps ceased and he bowed before the assembly, the previously bribed individuals immediately began to applaud.

  "A wonderful solution!"

  "The Orange Prince is a hero!"

  "The kid should pledge a debt of gratitude!"

  This time, these comments actually aligned quite clearly with the feelings of the rest of the assembly. After all, they had feared a tragedy might occur, and then Ukuun would have to deal with the wrath of a de Deviliare—if, of course, the child's identity turned out to be genuine.

  The prince smiled like a good father who had just saved the day, and his expression seemed to say, 'What would you do without me?'.

  "So?" he looked at Justinian and Aldona, who were confused by the sudden turn of events.

  In his vision, everything had gone perfectly. He had gained the journal, with which—given the popularity of de Deviliare's pamphlets—he could gain favors from various voivodes. Then there was the matter of the gratitude from the little one himself and his traveling companions.

  'That boy's cultivation is particularly intriguing...' he thought cunningly. It seemed so absurdly focused on a specific type of character that it was not difficult to see its potential for destructive power in the future. That was precisely why the prince had earlier extracted a promise from Justinian—so that if a threat to his plans arose, he could influence its quality.

  'After all, doesn't justice require that agreements be respected? All I need to do is stir up the situation so that this foolish human cannot fulfill his end,' he smiled to himself.

  Today had been a truly wonderful day in terms of gains, and soon he intended to visit a voivode to show him the rare prize he had acquired.

  But before Justinian or Aldona could answer him, a fearful cry tore through the hall.

  "No! I do not agree to this!"

  The one who shouted was Franciscus.

  "Franciscus?" A surprised Justinian looked at the boy.

  For the first time since they had met, he seemed so... emotional? The little devil not only had a scowl on his face, but his whole body was trembling, and he looked truly agitated.

  "You do not have my consent to give away this journal!" he exclaimed firmly.

  "But..." the Speaker began, seeing that this situation could escalate into enormous trouble.

  "I will not agree to this, ever," the boy interrupted him.

  A strange atmosphere fell over the hall, and many people didn't know what to think.

  "Has this little devil gone mad?"

  "The Prince extended a hand to him, and he rejects it so horribly..."

  "Will Ukuun fall into trouble?"

  Justinian, seeing all this, just sighed heavily. He didn't know what was in the journal that the child was so unwilling to reveal, but he had no intention of forcing him.

  'I guess there's no other choice but to play the uncle card...' he thought, analyzing the hall's reactions.

  Aldona had also known Franciscus for some time, so seeing that Justinian wasn't reacting, she too decided not to take a stance.

  Finally, the Speaker, troubled by the growing chaos, spoke. He turned to the Orange Prince:

  "Does the prosecution accept this decision?"

  The devil to whom he directed the words sat on his throne with a sour expression. Of course, he didn't like this situation, but the fact was that the earlier death threats had been a bluff.

  Nevertheless, the sight of the journal was terribly tempting for him. After all, it could guarantee him powerful influence, and he didn't want to just let it go.

  Finally, he sighed heavily and smiled at Franciscus, believing he had found the right solution.

  "I'm sorry, boy, but you are not the one who decides here." He then addressed his servant. "Bring me that notebook!"

  The murmur in the hall rose immediately, and the devilish servant, living a simple life of following orders, brought him the notebook.

  "No! Give it back!" Franciscus began to shout again; his face was now all red, and he was much more desperate.

  At a sign from the prince, the assembly guards pressed him to the ground, which also made Justinian react.

  "Leave him alone!" he shouted, gritting his teeth at the hopeless situation he found himself in. He looked as if he was preparing to fight.

  "I'd be careful," the prince told him calmly, taking the notebook in hand. "Don't overstay your welcome, or you'll see what a 5-mark adept can do. You also owe me a favor."

  "There is no favor!" Justinian shot back. "Give back that notebook, and we can all still part in peace!"

  Pressed to the floor, Franciscus watched the whole scene with tears in his eyes. With every second, he expected the prince to finally stop and give him back the journal.

  Unfortunately, the orange ruler simply waved his hand and opened it. Then, searching for the right spot, he flipped to the very back, where Franciscus had often worked on his poetry.

  "This is..." the shocked devil said, staring into the book.

  "Give it back, damn it!!!" Franciscus continued to scream, tears now streaming from his eyes.

  Tension grew in the hall as the prince read, fascinated, turning page after page. Finally, when everyone was awaiting his reaction, he stood up and, with a pale face, addressed the assembly.

  Then, as if not believing what was happening... he burst into loud laughter.

  "Ahahaha, what is this crap?!"

  The hall was built in such a way that it amplified his already powerful, natural voice.

  "You call yourself a de Deviliare?! And you call this drivel poetry?!"

  Cruelly mocking Franciscus's writings, he even read one of the poems to the people's assembly.

  "Listen to this, this is a good one—about nature: A leaf fell, the grass is wet."

  He croaked, laughing his head off.

  It wasn't long before, one by one... the entire hall, listening to the readings of this hopeless poetry, began to laugh.

  On the floor, Franciscus curled up in the agony of having the thing he had worked on for so long ridiculed before a cruel crowd. Tears streamed freely from his eyes, and something he had cared about since meeting his uncle was being destroyed.

  "Hahaha, you know what? I don't even want this junk. You can keep your stupid journal," the prince laughed again, signaling his guards to let the little one go.

  Then, the ruler slammed the notebook shut, threw it on the floor, and stomped on it.

  "Really, whatever else you might have, you certainly have no talent," he quipped, then kicked the notebook over to Franciscus.

  The young devil caught the dirty journal and slowly began to rise from the ground. Still crying and feeling the deep shame of condemnation.

  But before he could straighten up, the Orange Prince had to focus his attention on something else. Someone had tapped him on the shoulder.

  "Hmm?" Turning around, he saw Justinian, seething with rage, his right hand gleaming with the light of iron.

  The devil smiled at this sight.

  "And what do you think you're go—" he didn't finish.

  A powerful blow from Justinian, which landed due to surprise and a complete lack of a guard, sent the ruler flying several meters into the middle of the people's assembly.

  "He attacked the Prince!"

  "Has he gone completely mad?!"

  "We have to run before the adepts start fighting!"

  A great panic erupted almost immediately. The devils from the assembly, screaming and cursing, took to their heels, crowding the exit.

  After the terrible and unexpected blow, the prince was bleeding profusely from his devilish face. The orange color of his skin mixed with the color of blood, and in his eyes burned not anger, but pure murderous lust.

  "I'll kill you for this, you damn dog," he said to the human, pulling himself to his feet.

  Justinian nodded to Aldona to flee with Franciscus and directed his steps toward the Orange Prince.

  Shedim Medaiash was almost ready to attack when he suddenly looked to the side in terror, as if expecting a blow. It came, however, from the other side, once again with the use of the iron hand of the law!

  The devil took a hit to the jaw so hard that one of his feet lifted off the ground, but this time he didn't fly into the air! Instead, he launched a counterattack, which Justinian dodged by a hair's breadth.

  "You bastard!" the prince shouted, frustrated by this experience, but he immediately moved to another attack.

  He had to stop, however, because... a saber radiating energy was at his throat!

  Justinian, though feeling immense pain in his lungs from using the iron hand of the law so quickly, had no intention of revealing his weakness.

  'Not in front of someone like him.'

  The prince, assessing his situation, smiled mockingly.

  "An artifact stronger than your cultivation. That's interesting, but you won't be able to maintain that energy for more than a few exchanges."

  The young man looked at him, still holding the image in his mind of what had happened to his dear companion and how the devil before him had humiliated him in front of so many people. His gaze contained all his fury, and he answered with a single sentence.

  "I'll only need one."

  Then... the saber flared with an immense, bright light, which began to consume all the energy it had accumulated over the years!

  This energy was so wild that even the Prince, a 5-mark Ki Gathering adept, felt threatened!

  He immediately wanted to retreat, but it was too late!

  All the sword's energy was concentrated in a single, simple cut and... it flew before he could escape the building!

  "No!" he shouted again, desperately shielding himself with his hands. The attack itself was so powerful that... the entire assembly building, the Orange Prince's whole residence... collapsed from the force of the impact!

  The collapsed structure revealed the residents of Ukuun gathered outside, along with the city guard, watching in horror at what had happened. Franciscus and Aldona were also there, safe.

  "Move, damn it! There's no time to lose!" Justinian shouted at them, sheathing the now-depleted saber himself.

  He knew that this attack, despite looking very impressive, was certainly not enough to kill the Orange Prince, who had, after all, reached the 5th level of ki-gathering.

  He was already heading toward his companions when the rubble of the building began to shake and for a moment lifted, revealing the figure of the devil.

  "I will kill you, you lackey!" he hissed through his teeth before realizing that the entire building had collapsed, revealing the scene of two fighters to a large audience.

  Seeing this, he let out another growl of discontent and... covered himself back under the rubble!

  Justinian didn't have time to think about all this when the prince's whisper reached his ears.

  "We'll meet again... sooner or later."

  Without stopping, the young man rushed toward Aldona and Franciscus, and together, not looking at the surprised guards, they fled the city.

  In the Justinian's mind, the final image of the Orange Prince was solidifying. Especially as the place where the saber had struck him, was not orange, but... green!