The trial was shit. It could've been much much worse, but it was still shit. Vassago couldn't believe what he was hearing. Stolas? The mastermind? Mierda. Why would he use some imp to fake an assassination on himself? There wasn't a goal, a motive.

Ultimately, all that got Stolas was being stripped of his status. Vassago couldn't do anything, obviously. Not when the Seven were involved; Satan was especially hot-headed which didn't bode well for Stolas.

But it didn't affect Vassago, he shouldn't have been bent out of shape over it. Maybe it was because that pendejo Andrealphus was there. The arrogant peacock always got on his nerves. He was still fuming when he got home.

"I don't know what that— jodido gilipollas did but I know he's involved" He squawked to himself as he paced the bedroom. "¡Lo juro por los siete círculos del infierno!" It's rare for Vassago to let something ruffle his feathers ~~pun intended~~ to the point where he could barely speak English.