Chapter 50
“Then that rumor is true?”
“What nonsense is this…!”
“That can’t possibly be right…!”
Shhh.
“Are you saying… you didn’t properly inherit the position of family head from your predecessor?”
Oselt, raising a hand to silence the chattering elders around him, asked calmly.
But his expression was colder than anyone else’s.
“N-no, that’s not true!”
Creel hurriedly spoke up.
“My master… he lost the ring a long time ago.”
“The former head did?”
“Yes. As you know, he wasn’t well near the end. His mind wasn’t completely clear. He said he couldn’t remember where he put the ring.”
Creel shifted all responsibility onto his late master—the former head of the family.
“He told me he was sorry and passed down this imitation ring instead. I tried searching everywhere for the real one afterward, but I’ve never been able to find it.”
“……”
Even with Creel’s explanation, the expressions of those gathered did not ease.
These elders had watched over House Ellesia for decades, but this—this was unprecedented.
A fake ring?
Not once in the history of their house had a head ever failed to inherit the true ring of succession.
And besides… was Creel even telling the truth?
Did the former head truly lose the ring?
The elders found themselves recalling the strange circumstances surrounding the former head’s death.
His sudden passing had shocked them all, and seeing the current head wearing what appeared to be a counterfeit ring only deepened their unease.
But still…
The former head had long since died, and they themselves had verified the will in which he named Creel his successor.
“It grieves me as well that the ring was lost… but blaming the deceased forever won’t solve anything, will it?”
Creel’s voice gained confidence.
“Whatever anyone says, I was my master’s chosen successor. Please, just remember that.”
“Hmm…”
“But if the head’s ring is gone…”
“He said the previous head lost it.”
“Even so…”
A head without the family’s ring of authority?
The elders’ faces grew increasingly troubled.
Knock knock.
“Pardon the interruption.”
At that moment, the doors to the chamber opened and a man strode in unannounced—
the Tower Master, Cheyan.
“We’re in the middle of a family council.”
The frown on Oselt’s brow deepened.
“This is not a place for outsiders to enter freely.”
Despite the cold tone, Cheyan only smiled pleasantly and nodded as though he understood perfectly.
“My secretary insisted that I deliver something personally.”
“Your secretary?”
No sooner had he said that than several figures entered behind him—
Seres, and following timidly behind her, Herion, the physician of House Ellesia.
“You—! What are you doing here?!”
Creel’s face twisted in rage.
Oselt turned a quiet, inquisitive gaze toward Herion.
“Get out! Both of you! This isn’t a place for just anyone to walk into!”
Creel’s voice rang louder than ever.
He couldn’t explain it, but a wave of dread swept through him the moment Herion appeared.
“I-I didn’t mean to…”
Herion herself looked equally lost.
Seres—whom she’d seen often recently—had suddenly brought her here, saying there was “somewhere they needed to go.”
She had no idea that “somewhere” meant the family council chamber.
“We’ll leave right after giving you this,” Seres said, stepping forward to shield Herion from Creel’s furious glare.
“Give us what?”
“Oselt, you don’t need to listen to her! I’ll handle this my—”
“Let’s hear her out first.”
“…What?”
“I said, let’s hear what she has to say.”
“……!”
Every instinct in Creel screamed that he should stop them right now.
But with Oselt’s firm tone, he dared not object further—the council leader’s patience was not something he could afford to test.
“Well then, what have you brought?”
Oselt had been watching Seres since she arrived.
A young lady—barely in her late teens at most—stood before a gathering of the most powerful elders in the house, yet she remained utterly composed.
That alone piqued his interest.
She carried herself as though she had done this countless times before.
“This.”
At his question, Seres reached into her pocket and pulled something out, holding it out before him.
Her casual motion was almost careless—
but when Oselt’s eyes landed on the object in her hand, they widened instantly.
“That’s…!”
The others, seeing it too, reacted in the same way.
“No way…!”
“That, that’s—!”
Chairs scraped.
Mouths fell open.
Several elders even shot to their feet.
A crimson ring glimmered in Seres’s palm.
That was unmistakably—
“The family head’s ring…”
Identical in design to the one Creel wore—
except that the gem at its center burned with a far deeper, richer red.
It shimmered as though alive, pulsing with an endless inner flame.
“I-it’s fake! It’s a fake, I swear it!”
Creel jumped up, shouting desperately.
It had to be!
There was no other explanation!
How could the ring he had searched for endlessly, for years, suddenly appear in the hands of a random girl?
It was clearly a counterfeit made by those trying to undermine him.
Could it be her…?
He glared at Herion, his eyes filled with venom.
After treating her like she didn’t exist for nearly three years, she had finally struck back—
by orchestrating this humiliation!
“A fake?”
Seres glanced at him briefly, her expression dripping with disdain, then turned away.
There was no need to argue.
Proving the ring’s authenticity would be simple enough.
“Jubellios.”
The name slipped softly from her lips.
Fwoooosh!
“……!”
In an instant, searing heat filled the chamber.
A gigantic bird of flame erupted into existence, its wings unfurling wide—
[What’s this? Why is it so cramped in here?]
Realizing it was indoors, the crimson bird quickly shrank in size—
but even so, waves of heat radiated from its body.
After circling the chamber once, the fiery bird landed gracefully upon Seres’s shoulder.
“T-that—that’s…!”
“The spirit of fire…!”
The council members could barely speak, their eyes wide in shock.
That’s why it can’t be faked, Seres thought.
Only the true ring of the family could summon this transcendent being—
the Spirit King of Fire, Jubellios.
Since ancient times, he had been sealed within the family’s ring.
Only the rightful head of House Ellesia could command him.
“So that’s the real head’s ring…”
Oselt’s voice trembled with awe as his gaze stayed locked on Jubellios.
It had been ages since he last saw the Fire Spirit King in person.
Even bound to the ring, he remained a being of terrifying might.
Controlling him was no simple task—not even for the head of the house.
Most avoided summoning him at all, fearing to provoke his volatile temper.
But now…
[Well? Just my arrival alone changes the very air, doesn’t it? Look at those reverent eyes gazing upon my greatness.]
“Of course the air’s changed. It’s hot. You make everything sweltering. You’re the worst in summer.”
[That’s because it’s the heat of my glorious majesty!]
“Yeah, yeah. Quiet. This isn’t your cue to talk.”
[What? You would silence me? Even bound to this ring, I am the mighty King of Flames—!]
“Shut it. Unless you want to spend another decade underwater.”
[…]
Their exchange was quiet, but Oselt could see it clearly—
the way the proud Spirit King visibly deflated at her threat.
His jaw dropped in disbelief.
