My Past Life is Riddled With Many Sins - Chapter 79

In short, proving ‘existence’ only requires a single piece of evidence that something exists, but proving ‘non-existence’ requires demonstrating the absence of all possible cases, which is practically impossible. Therefore, the burden of proof always lies with those who claim ‘existence’ because ‘non-existence’ cannot be proved.

For instance, when the claim ‘She is in league with the devilkin’ confronts the claim ‘She is not in league with the devilkin’, the latter cannot be conclusively proven, so the burden of proof rests with the former.

However, the Crown Prince demanded proof from her, not from Count Gerald who made the accusation.

“If I prove I am human, will you accept that I am not in league with the devilkin?”

The Crown Prince pondered for a moment before nodding.

“Yes.”

“Then please summon a priest.”

Realizing what she intended to do, the Crown Prince widened his eyes.

The ultimate way to prove her humanity. By bleeding until her last breath, she could show that no black liquid emerges.

She was just sighing deeply, distressed.

“There’s no need for that.”

A refreshing voice cleared the tension in the hall as everyone’s attention naturally gravitated towards the speaker.

A man stood at the entrance of the banquet hall, draped in a robe so long that his shoes were obscured. His face was barely visible under a hood that hung low, almost reaching his nose, but his identity was unmistakable.

A purple robe adorned with silver embroidery, a symbol of a wizard affiliated with the Magic Tower. The robe, marked with an ancient numeral ‘1’ on the left sleeve, signified the position of the First Wizard, the head of the Magic Tower.

Given the Magic Tower’s reclusive nature, changes in leadership often went unnoticed externally until the new First Wizard made a rare public appearance.

The hall, already buzzing, stirred into a different kind of commotion at the rare appearance of a Magic Tower Master. It was an event even the nobility found astonishing as they had only seen it once in a lifetime.

“There’s no need for that?”

The Crown Prince urged for an explanation.

The Magic Tower Master reached into his sleeve and pulled out something.

“As it happens, I have a means to distinguish between devilkin and humans.”

In his hand was a vial containing a mysterious potion.

Regina narrowed her eyes. Although he pretended to pull it from his sleeve, she sensed he had accessed a subspace to retrieve it. She felt a momentary movement of magical energy.

The imperial palace was equipped with magical circles that hindered the use of magic, with the exception of a few authorized wizards, to ensure the Emperor’s safety. Thus, the leader was circumventing these restrictions to appear as if he wasn’t using magic.

Even the Crown Prince seemed to realize this, his expression becoming uneasy. Logically, what were the odds that someone would just happen to carry such a necessary potion in their sleeve?

“This magical potion can determine if one is a devilkin. Allow me to demonstrate.”

The Magic Tower Master walked effortlessly to the blood-stained floor of the banquet hall, where the devilkin’s blood had mingled red and black.

“Watch this. Even blood disguised as red…”

He opened the vial and dropped a few drops of the potion onto the red blood. Where the potion touched, the blood turned black.

“This potion causes the blood to revert to its original color. As for human blood.”

The Magic Tower Master deliberately nicked his fingertip on a sharp ornament and applied the potion to his wound. However, the potion simply ran off without mixing with the blood.

“It shows no reaction.”

He casually licked his injured fingertip, causing a few onlookers to flinch due to the strangely elongated and elegant finger gliding unsettlingly with his red tongue.

“How can such a potion be created, when devilkins haven’t shown themselves in the middle realm for thousands of years? Can we really trust its effectiveness?”

“There are many interesting things in the Magic Tower. For instance, we have the corpse and blood of a devilkin preserved under preservation spells that have been passed down for thousands of years.”

The Magic Tower Master responded to the Crown Prince’s interrogation calmly. The audience, listening quietly until now, however, gasped at the extraordinary content.

“And this potion was created about two hundred years ago, Your Highness. Does that suffice as an explanation?”

The Magic Tower Master whispered close to the Crown Prince, like sharing a secret. At the same time, the Crown Prince looked as if he was beginning to understand something.

Regina, who was nearby and overheard the conversation, recalled a record she had seen in the Emperor’s library. It mentioned a devilkin breached the non-aggression pact two hundred years ago.

‘Is the Magic Tower Master referring to that incident two hundred years ago?’

She glanced at the Magic Tower Master, whose face was mostly obscured by his hood, yet somehow his gaze felt compelling, as if drawn by an unknown force.

‘If…’

“Very well. Then let’s use the potion to verify.”

The Crown Prince’s voice broke her thoughts.

The Magic Tower Master obediently handed the potion to the Crown Prince.

At the Crown Prince’s gesture, a knight approached with a sword, and Regina extended her hand. As the sharp blade sliced across her fingertip, the potion poured over her blood showed no reaction and fell to the floor.

A sigh of relief escaped from the spectators.

“It remains red.”

The Crown Prince announced to everyone present in the banquet hall. Regina, who was nearly accused of being a devilkin, exhaled in relief. She was tense inside about the possibility of an incorrect result due to any potion flaw. The Crown Prince, seemingly understanding her relief, patted her shoulder a couple of times.

“You’ve been through a lot. Go receive a purification from the priest and rest for today. I will hear a detailed report later.”