Arzael took a shallow breath, holding back the oppressive weight of the air pressing down throughout the Hall of Inquisition. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, and a low yet heavily charged voice escaped his lips: "If I am a demon… do you think you would still be standing here asking me that?"
The words fell heavy, piercing the silence, as if filling every corner of the room with a chilling, suffocating aura. Even the crystals in the walls, which lit up the chamber, seemed dim under the tension enveloping the Hall.
The dignitaries lowered their heads, some furrowing their brows, realizing that Arzael's response was more than mere defense, it was a warning.
From the seat of honor, the Class-S Hero, whose aura had previously glowed dark red, slowly raised his head. His eyes narrowed, piercing toward Arzael. His deep voice thundered through the quiet: "Those words… sound more like a threat than an answer."
