Don't confiscate my identity as a human race

Chapter 621 - 581: Lanci Needs No Self-Proof

In the midst of cheers, the members of the Demon Race looked at the couple with smiles, their eyes brimming with satisfaction and pride.

On the stage, Fallen Lord Calila finally revealed a content smile.

She loved fulfilling the dreams of others.

"So, following the procedure, the author of this painting is—"

She pointed towards the Regency Hall’s leftmost seat where the anticipated demon groom sat upright.

"Please hold on a moment."

From the Blood Clan’s seating area opposite the throne stage and furthest away, the voice of Viscount Giovanni of the Blood Clan, standing behind the Tenth Ancestor, unexpectedly halted everything.

All the demons didn’t understand what the Blood Clan delegation was up to.

"..."

Fallen Lord Calila was about to speak, just when what she anticipated would happen at the moment the dust had settled occurred.

She had already grown somewhat weary of this ostentatious Bloodline Viscount.

With a slight frown, she looked towards the center of the Regency Hall’s fan-shaped seating, where the Blood Clan’s seats were far situated.

Viscount Giovanni, the Blood Clan’s diplomat, stood up with swift, decisive movements.

Fallen Lord Calila was clear that Ancestor Eduado, being a founder, might stir up trouble, and his method of causing it was likely to let their lapdog viscount speak first.

"Lord Calila, on behalf of the Blood Clan, I find it necessary to object to the proceeding."

Viscount Giovanni’s strident voice cut through the ceremony that was about to conclude normally; he looked towards Princess Hyperion at the side of the Monarch’s seat in the Regency Hall, his face carrying a hint of mockery.

He didn’t want to accept the happy ending the Demon Race thought they all shared.

"..."

The entire hall’s demonic gazes instantly turned towards Viscount Giovanni, anger evident on many a noble’s face.

When the epic painting emerged from the Blood Clan earlier, they had been quite haughty, and now that the Demon Race had presented an epic painting, the Blood Clan had started raising doubts again.

But the real problem was indeed that.

Was McCarthy really of the Great Demon Clan?

The leading Fallen Lord, after sensing the magic power in McCarthy’s painting, said nothing further.

It was clear that in the Fallen Lord’s view, McCarthy was of the Great Demon Clan.

However, honestly speaking, the other demons couldn’t feel any magic fluctuation or martial artist’s aura from McCarthy.

It was possible that McCarthy hid his strength, but if it was verified he wasn’t of the Great Demon Clan, he would be stripped of his qualifications.

Not only were the present Great Demon Clan members confusedly looking at the Radiant Demon seated next to Lord Raeming.

"My dear friend..."

Even the adjacent Lord Raeming Gareth looked at his fellow kinsman.

With the strength of an Eighth-order Great Demon Clan member, Lord Raeming simply couldn’t judge what level this merchant companion was at.

He was overjoyed for his dear friend, yet also worried for him.

In Lord Raeming’s view, McCarthy wasn’t a combat-type demon; in fact, one might say he hardly possessed any martial strength.

Perhaps demons below Eighth-order could pass the trial of heart with their unique mental abilities, but for the trial of combat, Lord Raeming was sure that without Eighth-order strength, there was no hope of passing any of them.

Nonetheless, he was willing to trust both his dear friend and the Fallen Lord.

The Blood Clan was always so despicable.

They were once mortal enemies on the battlefield with the Demon Race before signing the peace treaty, and even now, the Blood Clan hadn’t forgotten to suppress the Demon Race.

The Demon Race wasn’t a species willing to always bow and scrape. Now, the matter of the Descendant Princess’s stay not only represented the dignity of the race but also the last key to opening the Demon Ancestral Land.

"You bastard, that’s an insult to Lord Calila!"

Mist Sir Orion was the first to stand and rebuke, his voice as if he had been tolerating the other for quite some time.

Whether or not McCarthy needed to prove himself, no mere Bloodline Viscount had the right to press them, the Demon Race, to demonstrate anything.

"What we need is a negotiation partner who is completely honest and follows the rules. If we can’t convince each other with credible results, how can we talk about any foundation?"

The Blood Clan’s Viscount Giovanni ignored Mist Sir Orion, a significant figure from the Great Demon Clan, and his accusations continued to point directly at Fallen Lord Calila.

"If the Fallen Lord has not falsified, could you perhaps allow this victor from the Demon Race to demonstrate his Great Demon Clan strength?"

"It’s quite simple, McCarthy, there’s no need to pretend anymore."

Calila looked towards Lanci, indicating that he should reveal his Great Demon Clan’s majesty.

This direct challenge to the soul could be sensed instinctively by the Demon Race, and the Blood Clan could also recognize it.

"Ah, why must I frighten my kin like this."

Lanci leaned back in his seat, muttering to himself with resignation, his face already showing signs of the crackling white lines like branches of a tree ready to burst into glowing fissures.

"Wait."

Before McCarthy could make any move, Viscount Giovanni once again raised his hand to speak,

"How can we be sure that it is not the Fallen Lord who has cast an illusion to create a false image of a Great Demon Clan member? If it’s merely showcasing a Mark of Great Demon Clan, we from the Blood Clan cannot truly verify it."

Having said that, he pointed at Lanci.

Lanci looked back at the Bloodline Viscount with a naturally puzzled expression.

"As everyone knows, members of the Great Demon Clan are at least Eighth-order. I would like Mr. McCarthy to take a strike from the Fourth Ancestor. If he indeed is from the Great Demon Clan, that shouldn’t be a problem, should it?"

Viscount Giovanni finally shed any pretense, his eyes fiercely articulating the Blood Clan’s demand.

The demons on the left side of the hall, loyal to the Fallen Lord, stood up, their chairs clattering noisily. They clearly would not tolerate such insulting challenges from the opponent.

The Blood Clan’s questioning was not just aimed at McCarthy, but at Fallen Lord Calila!

Their gaze warned Viscount Giovanni that their patience too had limits.

In this tense confrontation,

"Since when did your Demon Race have Fourth-order members of the Great Demon Clan?"

The Fourth Ancestor Eduado looked towards the Fallen Lord, who stood opposite in the distance, leaning slightly back on his cane.

"..."

Fallen Lord Calila momentarily fell silent.

The ordinary members of the Demon Race might not see through McCarthy’s true strength, but she and Eduado, beings at the apex of spellcasting and Ninth-order existences, could not be deceived by any trickery that hid true strength.

McCarthy was indeed Fourth-order, and Calila knew it.

Eduado also knew perfectly well McCarthy’s level, and had thus directed his viscount to implement a transparent strategy.

If McCarthy lacked Eighth-order strength, the Blood Clan would simply assert with conviction that McCarthy’s Great Demon Clan identity was an illusion created by Calila.

Even if McCarthy truly showed the might of the Great Demon Clan, it would be futile because the Blood Clan would insist it was an illusion crafted by Calila.

Although she didn’t understand how McCarthy managed to become a Great Demon Clan member with six marks at Fourth-order, she would now protect McCarthy, both out of position and will.

"Today, Princess Hyperion belongs to the Great Demon Clan’s McCarthy."

Fallen Lord Calila decisively tilted her head as if she was ready to personally engage in battle,

"I have decided for them, and even if the First Ancestor himself were to come, it would be useless."

She added, no longer hiding the natural fierceness innate to her Demon Race heritage.

Today, with her present, the marriage was settled.