The Phoenix Grand Hall roared with life.
Armored nobles and robed magicians from all over the Brook Kingdom filled the room to its brim. On the marble stage where a golden phoenix emblem shimmered with ceremonial mana, the coronation platform stood—elegant, ancient, ready. Velvet banners unfurled from the ceiling, each bearing the Phoenix insignia, blazing red and gold. This was a moment history would record in mana-stone.
Among the crowd, whispers crawled like wind.
"Is it true? Reyon defeated Cold Sword?"
"A 5th-circle brat defeating the most ruthless 8th-circle mage?"
Even the nobles who didn't belong to the Phoenix household had their eyes locked on the platform, searching for proof of the unbelievable.
Not far from the stage, amidst a sea of dignitaries, Prince Millen, clad in royal silver and blue robes, leaned toward his sister, Alice.
"You should just come back to the royal family," he whispered, his tone laced with impatience. "Use your talents for the empire instead of rotting away in this clan."
Alice tilted her head, her voice calm but unwavering. "Elder brother, you already know why I'm here. This is the best place to enhance my talents. The Phoenix Clan is the strongest household."
Millen scoffed. "Strongest household?" He chuckled, eyes narrowing. "No matter how powerful a household is, they still bow to the royal family. Don't forget—they're under our empire."
Alice bit the inside of her lip. She knew it. Every time the Phoenix Clan's strength grew, fear sprouted inside the royal court like rot. Fear that one day they would challenge the throne.
The First Prince leaned in closer.
"I know you've liked Reyon for years now," he smirked. "But you don't have to chase after him like this. We can just send a royal marriage proposal. They won't dare refuse. I'm glad that loser Reyon has finally become the heir, but to claim he defeated Cold Sword?" He sneered. "Even a fool wouldn't believe a 5th-circle could bring down an 8th."
Alice's hand clenched the edge of her seat.
"Brother…" she said, voice dropping cold, "we should only speak about things we can take responsibility for. He is that strong. The clan would never lie about someone's strength."
Prince Millen frowned, irritated at her defiance, and stormed away.
(At the other end of the hall…)
The prince stopped dead in his tracks as he caught sight of Reyon—clad in formal Phoenix robe, eyes sharp, presence overwhelming.
Millen approached with a forced smile. "Can't believe you reached 5th circle this fast. Still hard to imagine someone like you rising this far—"
Reyon walked right past him without a word ignoring him like he never saw him.
The prince's smile froze.
"You—!"
His arm whipped back, forming a fist to punch, but before it could land—
"Tch… Know your place, Prince."
BAM!
Ray's hand grabbed Millen's arm mid-air and, with a surge of wind , hurled him sideways like a sack of potatoes. The prince crashed into the side pillar with a grunt.
Ray glared down. "In this household, strength is everything. I don't care if you're a prince or the damn emperor himself. We don't give a shit about weaklings."
Reyon didn't look back. Neither did Ray.
Prince Millen scrambled up, face flushed in humiliation. "I'll pay you back for this, Ray Phoenix. Just you wait."
(Back on the main stage…)
A loud chime rang across the hall. Silence spread like ink in water.
Reyon stood tall as Patriarch Edward rose from his throne, the ceremonial artifact glowing beside him.
Edward's voice boomed. "With confirmation of Cold Sword's defeat, and by the decree of strength passed down from generation to generation—three days from today, do ample preparations, Reyon Phoenix shall be declared heir of the Phoenix Clan!"
Thunderous applause erupted.
But—
"Wait," Reyon's voice pierced the silence.
Everyone paused. Even Edward furrowed his brow.
Reyon stepped forward, gaze unwavering. "I have something to say."
Evelyn's heart jumped. She knew what he is gonna say
But Reyon raised his hand.
"I don't want to become heir."
Boom. His words fell like a boulder into the crowd.
Gasps. Murmurs. Panic.
Edward's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying, Reyon? Are you declining the seat of Patriarch?"
"I am not fit to be Patriarch," Reyon said clearly. "I never liked being tied down. I didn't even complete the clan's compulsory training. I'm not suited to lead the clan."
Marshal Derox slammed his fist into the floor and leapt onto the stage.
"HOW DARE YOU!" he bellowed. "You shame the clan before every noble and kingdom representative? I'll teach you a lesson!"
Reyon turned to Edward.
"…Patriarch, please—"
Edward cut him off. "It doesn't matter if you intended to shame us or not. You did. You must fight Derox. If you win, we won't force you. If you lose… you must accept the role."
Reyon closed his eyes, sighing internally. So that's what Edward meant. A test. A way to validate his rejection through strength.
"…Fine."
Derox didn't wait.
"Thunderstorm!"
Crackling thunder gathered around Derox as the skies above the hall roared. Arcs of electricity spun and shot down toward Reyon like a divine wrath.
Reyon calmly raised his hand.
"σ—Spread."
The moment his vector sigil activated, the electric storm thinned,weakened, some weeks ago reyon couldn't have weakened a spell of this decree but with the training he mastered his control to new heights.
"Hah?!" Derox blinked. "You—what did you—?!"
Reyon didn't give him time.
"Stack—σ x10. Icicle Burst!"
A tremendous surge of freezing mana erupted from his palm. A gleaming spear of frost exploded into a wave of sub-zero wind, a storm of jagged ice that crashed forward, slicing through air like blades.
The hall trembled.
The storm over Derox shattered—CRACK!—as the ice wave surged forward and engulfed him entirely.
A moment later, silence fell. As the mist faded, Derox was kneeling, frost climbing his armor, his body frozen in place, breath trembling.
Alice stared, stunned. "…That… wasn't as strong as Absolute Zero. but it broke his thunderstorm."
Ray leaned toward her, jaw tight. "Hey… you really think we can catch up to him?"
Alice's eyes glistened.
"I know… he's so far ahead," she whispered. "But if we give up now, we'll never stand beside him. I want to reach him. I want to stand next to him, not behind."
Ray slowly nodded. "Right…"
(Meanwhile…)
Evelyn looked at Edward from the side.
"You're going to accept it now, right? He's destined to become the strongest of this era. His name will be remembered with our mother and father. He doesn't need the title—he's already beyond it."
Edward sighed. Then rose.
"Reyon Phoenix," he declared, "you've proven yourself. We will not force you to become heir."
The hall murmured.
"But," Edward added, "you must take a mana oath—one that binds your soul. You will never act against this clan, and you shall never again eye the seat of Patriarch."
Reyon stepped forward.
"I accept."
His hand touched the phoenix crest.
"Mana Oath—by the power of my soul, I vow: I shall never betray this clan, nor seek the Patriarch's seat."
A faint golden light enveloped him for a moment—then vanished.
Edward nodded solemnly.
"Then it is done."