He raised a hand in a gesture of formal address. "I have stated the facts as they occurred. I now await the testimony of the accused, and I trust that he, a proud son of an esteemed Elder, will speak with the honesty befitting this sacred hall."
As he made that grand, righteous gesture, he discreetly activated the paper-thin [Lying Old Fart Talisman] in his sleeve. The effect was silent and invisible.
Jamal just sneered, seeing Gray's speech as the pathetic plea of someone with no real evidence.
The Clan Leader turned his heavy gaze to Jamal. "Jamal Anarkin, you have heard the accusation. What is your response?"
Jamal stepped forward, a look of practiced and offended innocence on his face. This was the story his father had drilled into him.
"Clan Leader, esteemed Elders," he began, his voice ringing with false sincerity.
"This is all a malicious fabrication! The truth is, Gray has a well-known obsession with a commoner girl from the village. Three days ago, he followed her into the forest, and her companions—a rough group of adventurers—did not appreciate his advances. They were the ones who beat him! I wasn't even there! He is simply using my name to cover for his own shameful behavior!"
It was a solid lie, one that shifted all the blame. He finished, looking proud of himself.
And then it happened.
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT-BROOOOM!
A sound like a thunderclap ripping through a giant's wet leather trousers roared from Jamal's rear, echoing through the dead-silent hall.
It was so loud the teacups on the elders' tables seemed to vibrate. Immediately following the sound was a stench so foul, it was as if a thousand-year-old piece of poop had just been microwaved and detonated.
The entire clan froze.
"What the heck!" Elder Chalmers snapped, instinctively covering his nose.
"What an intense stench." another elder muttered, his eyes wide with shock. "Just how long has he been holding that back?"
Outside, the crowd was in utter chaos.
"What was that sound?! Is there an enemy attack?"
"Forget the sound! What is that smell?! By the heavens, it's wafting all the way out here!"
Jamal's face went from proud to bone-white in a split second.
"T-That... that wasn't me! I swear!" he stammered in pure panic, his voice cracking.
Poot-squeak!
A smaller, higher-pitched sound escaped, this time carrying a distinct scent of rotting fish.
The crowd, which had been in stunned silence, finally broke.
A wave of stifled giggles turned into open, roaring laughter.
The Clan Leader, wanting to get this over with, turned to Jamal.
"Jamal, for the record. Did you lead an attack on Gray Anarkin?"
"Absolutely not! I am completely innocent!"
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT...
Another long, loud, wet fart sound echoed through the dead-silent hall, magically amplified to be heard by everyone, including the 2,000 people watching outside.
The crowd erupts into stifled giggles.
Brimming with fury, the clan leader asked another question. "So you weren't even in the western forest that day?"
Jamal was getting desperate. "No! I was training!"
BRRAAAAAAP!
"JAMAL ANARKIN!" he roars. "Have you no control?! How dare you befoul this sacred hall with your... incessant disruptions! Your disrespect for this council is appalling!"
Gray fanned the air in front of his face with his sleeve, his expression one of formal concern. "Clan Leader," he said, his voice ringing with false sympathy, "perhaps the accused is suffering from a severe internal injury that causes him to... release foul winds when speaking falsehoods? His testimony is quite... putrid."
He then proceeded to ask a question of his own.
"Jamal, is your real name Jamal?"
Jamal was panicking and didn't know what was happening, he subconsciously answered.
"Yes, my name is Jamal."
"…"
This time, there was no air coming out of his butt.
"Are you a man?" Gray asked.
"Yes… of course I'm a man." Jamal said.
"Are you handsome?"
"Of course I am."
PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT...
"Do you think the clan leader is handsome?"
"… of course!"
BRRRRRAAAAAAP-THWUMP!
The Clan Leader, his face purple with rage, slammed his fist on his throne. "ENOUGH! This is a mockery!"
Elder Gustav stands up, trying to save his son. "My son is merely suffering from a... digestive ailment due to stress! This has no bearing on the case!"
Gray immediately agreed, "I agree with Elder Gustav, I believe Jamal has terminal case of being full of hot air."
Everyone erupted in laughter, what was supposed to be a serious hearing turned out to be a comedy show.
"JAMAL!" the Clan Leader roared, his patience shredded. "ONE FINAL TIME! DID YOU LAY A HAND ON GRAY ANARKIN WITH THE INTENT TO KILL HIM?!"
Jamal, on the verge of tears, knew this was it. He had to deny it with every fiber of his being. "NEVER! I WOULD NEVER DO SUCH A THING! I SWEAR IT ON MY HONOR AS A MEMBER OF THE ANARKIN CLAN!"
This was the biggest lie of all. The talisman went into overdrive.
What followed was not merely a fart, but a cataclysmic, soul-shattering eruption of sound and stench that seemed to shake the very foundations of the pagoda. The smell was apocalyptic.
Then, a new look of absolute, soul-deep horror crossed Jamal's face. He felt a sudden, unmistakable warmth and wetness. A dark, ugly stain began to spread rapidly across the back of his pristine white robes.
"He... he shat himself!" someone in the crowd outside screamed, and the entire clan grounds descended into an eerie silence.
At this point, everyone was too shocked to say anything.
Even Gray couldn't help but feel pity, after this is over, Jamal's image would forever be ruined and this event might even get passed down for generations.
"ENOUGH!" the Clan Leader bellowed, silencing the room with a surge of his aura. "Jamal Anarkin, for soiling the dignity of this sacred hall, you will be punished! Guards, take him away to be cleaned and then confined!"
As two guards dragged the catatonic Jamal away, the Clan Leader fixed his icy glare on Gray.
"As for you. This... disgusting display... while apparently entertaining for the rabble, is not legal proof of a crime. The sounds a man's body makes are not testimony."
He leaned back on his throne. "Do you have any actual, concrete evidence to present to this council? Speak now, or this matter is closed."
The pressure was now back on Gray.
The hall fell silent, everyone waiting to see what he would do.
Elder Gustav and Jamal's uncles didn't know what just happened, if that was Gray's doing, but they were certain that the boy had no more tricks up his sleeve.
But Gray didn't look angry or disappointed. He looked confident. He gave a small, almost pitying smile.
"Of course, Clan Leader. I would not come here unprepared. I was merely hoping to spare Elder Gustav's family the... deeper humiliation."
His calm confidence sent a jolt of confusion through Jamal's faction.
'Deeper humiliation?' Elder Gustav thought, his heart suddenly pounding.
'What else could he have? Did he somehow record a confession?'
"Gustav, what is he talking about?" Elder Chalmers, one of Jamal's uncles, sent a telepathic message to Elder Gustav. "He's bluffing... he must be bluffing!"
Gray made a show of reaching into his sleeve. "Now, regarding the concrete evidence..."
As he did, his hand "slipped."
Clink.
A small, translucent crystal tumbled from his sleeve and hit the polished floor. It was an Imagery Crystal, a device capable of recording and storing both visual and auditory events.
It rolled a short distance before stopping near the feet of one of the inner elders.
The hall, which had just recovered from the fart symphony, fell silent once more.
Gray reacted immediately, lunging for the crystal with wide, panicked eyes, only to freeze when he realized his dramatic movement had drawn everyone's attention.
An eerie silence spread through the chamber. Every gaze locked onto the Imagery Crystal.
Jamal, who was about to get taken away, suddenly froze.
Elder Gustav stiffened, and the clan leader, seated above the crowd, narrowed his eyes.
Gray palmed the crystal and tucked it away in his robe as if to shield it from prying eyes.
His hands trembled slightly, trying to suppress his panic. That was the final piece needed to set the fire ablaze.
The reaction of the crowd was immediate.
Jamal, still with shit in his pants, took a half-step back, his face paling. 'No way… he would only react like that unless… the crystal recorded something crucial!'
Elder Gustav, who had decades of experience maneuvering through clan politics, felt his heart pound in his chest.
'If that crystal was fake, he would have used it to blackmail us before the hearing even started. There's no way he would wait until now.'
'He's going in for the kill!' Elder Gustav thought to himself as his face darkened.
The clan leader's eyes narrowed. He didn't care at all for Gray.
Jamal and Elder Gustav were countless times more valuable to the clan than Gray and his grandparents.
Despite the scene earlier, he had been prepared to dismiss Gray's accusations as the ploys of a vengeful youth so long as he didn't have any evidence.
But now, things were a lot more complicated.
If Gray truly had evidence, with so many people watching, he would be forced to deal with Jamal in accordance with the clan rules.
He immediately looked at Elder Gustav and the old man instantly understood the hidden meaning behind it.
A heavy silence stretched through the hall. Then, in the depths of Gray's mind, a whisper secretly came via voice transmission.
Voice transmission is only possible for cultivators at the Golden Core Stage and above.
"You know there is no need to go this far," Elder Gustav's voice resonated in Gray's mind.
"Let's talk. 10,000 Spirit Stones."
'As expected, it's really much easier dealing with smart people.' Gray inwardly mused.
Elder Gustav was making an offer.
10,000 Spirit Stones. It was enough to buy a life of comfort, far more than an outer disciple could hope to earn in 10 years.
But Gray didn't respond.
"30,000."
Silence.
"50,000."
Still, Gray did not react.
"How much do you want?" The voice was sharper this time, more desperate.