"Wait a moment, Your Majesty the Demon King. Don’t you find this a charming proposal?"

So ruthlessly rejected, Silva couldn’t help but panic. Her fake ministerial tone hadn’t shifted yet. Unexpectedly, she pleaded in a humble manner.

"..."

Ledyah gave no response. Eyes closed, she seemed asleep.

"Let’s go, Lord Silva."

Beatrice firmed her tone. She could subdue Silva instantly—but fighting before the throne was impolite.

If possible, Silva should understand her situation. Make a wise, obedient choice.

Then His Majesty might forgive her rudeness. Let her keep serving the empire.

"Alright, alright. Since it’s like this..."

Silva trembled from disappointment and anger. Head lowered, golden bangs hid her twisted face.

"As a Demon of the Demon Race, as one who traversed the Dark Pilgrimage, I request the Court Trial here!"

The solemn air froze. Everyone in the palace stood stunned.

Silva’s aides froze. Beatrice, reaching out, froze. Maids and guards froze. Noah blinked adorably, unusually clueless.

Even Ledyah slightly opened her eyes in surprise.

Silva’s words were a direct challenge to the Demon King.

"Ah, trouble..."

Abraham rarely showed such an expression. He rubbed his temples.

Younger Demon Lords didn’t know the reclusive head of the Royal Court. They avoided those old fossils.

So during public actions, a Royal Court recorder was always present. Either a master mage’s projection, or a promising young talent.

Their duty: supervise the Demon King for rule violations. Prevent situations like this.

Theoretically, any Demon could become Demon King.

After the Dark Pilgrimage, one could meet the Royal Court head. Demand the Court Trial. The current Demon King couldn’t interfere.

Passing it meant challenging the current Demon King directly. The winner would ascend the throne. Rule the Demon lands.

The Demon Empire renewed itself this way. For tens of thousands of years.

Abraham, as Royal Court head coincidentally in the Demon King’s Castle, handled this duty.

He’d expected it—but it still gave him a headache.

Especially after proposing an alliance at noon.

He cleared his throat. Stepped before Ledyah, still lounging on the throne.

"O seeker who consumed many dragonkin,"

"As one bathed in darkness, you have the right to demand the Court Trial."

"Once challenged, it cannot be halted. Are you certain you accept this honor?"

"Yes. I have a clear conscience, Magister of the Royal Court."

Silva knelt on one knee. Showing more respect than to the Demon King. To become Demon King, she needed the Court’s support.

She slightly lifted her eyes. Peeking at the scholarly man. Trying to read anything from his emotionless face.

"Is that so? But the empire is at war. Brave soldiers rush to the front. Changing rulers now is untimely."

Abraham’s calm words set off alarms in Silva’s mind. Her eyes widened. She looked up in shock.

"Therefore, during the war, challenger Silva will be protected by the Royal Court. Your army, lands, property—none shall be touched by the current Demon King in royal name."

"Also, you must show no disrespect to the current Demon King. Honor her as king. Obey her commands. Any transgression is contempt for Court rules. Punishable by death. Objections?"

"...No objections..."

Silva trembled all over. She gritted her teeth to say it.

Abraham wasn’t partial. Any unrelated Court member would say the same.

But though rules forbade transgression, Ledyah could easily mess with Silva as king.

Like sending her to the front. Facing human artillery. Then, wounded and near death, force her into the trial without rest.

The Royal Court was nominally superior. But normally, even its head addressed the Demon King as a subject.

If the Demon King played tricks without fault, the Court wouldn’t complain.

"Then, Your Majesty the current Demon King, do you approve this judgment?"

Abraham turned. His tone softened slightly.

"Approved."

Ledyah lazily nodded. Seemingly unconcerned about Silva’s threat.

"If no objections, withdraw to rest. The trial will be discussed later."

Soldiers and maids bowed. Prepared to leave.

Except one.

"I object~, Uncle Abraham~."

A small, fair hand raised. A crisp, soft voice carried unique charm. Drawing all eyes.

Noah raised her hand high. Smiling sweetly with a natural look. Like a playful girl who wandered in. Stunned everyone again.

Ledyah showed her most shocked expression yet. She looked at Noah beside her. Blinked. Couldn’t believe it was her.

"What did you just call me?"

Abraham’s usually emotionless handsome face showed rare shock. More excited by her address than her objection.

"Uncle Abraham~, didn’t you say at noon? To make me Princess of the Royal Court? So as its head, you’re my uncle~."

Noah’s tail swayed as if it had a mind of its own. Her clear, light-blue eyes shifted down. Ledyah, being looked at, looked away.

Ledyah hadn’t told her. Noah deduced it from the situation.

"Ahem! Then, Princess of the Royal Court, maiden with dragon blood, what is your objection?"

Abraham coughed. Avoided calling her Holy Maiden. Confirming her princess status.

"I was thinking. Since that lady’s goal is me..."

"Let me be part of the Court Trial. Settle this with her right here. What do you think?"

Noah gently stroked her fluffy tail. Playfully squinted one eye. With a playful tone. Stunned everyone present.