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~Chapter 30~
“Father, why are you just letting Marciela go free like this?”
Lerazie went to her father, the Marquis, looking frustrated and confused.
The Marquis rubbed his temples, his face full of worry.
If this was the past, when Marciela had no supporters and hadn’t awakened, he would have easily gotten rid of her.
But no matter how many times he tried to frame her, she always found a way out. And by law, he couldn’t just execute her as lord of the territory.
“You know the empire forbids killing relatives, right? That’s why even the lord of this land can’t sentence family to death. It’s because of inheritance disputes. If I die in this territory, the central court will definitely come to investigate. Are you okay with that?”
He remembered Marciela’s cold green eyes as she said this. That’s why sending her to the underworld, to die on her own, was the best option.
“Just wait. The time will come.”
Hearing this, Lerazie bit her lip angrily.
How long do I have to wait? Has father got some kind of weakness to that girl?
If it’s going to be like this, I’ll have to act myself.
After Basilie walked off, I held Edell’s hand and looked at him. Suddenly, I noticed the silver fountain pen in his shirt pocket. Was that the weapon Basilie was talking about?
I remembered how Edell quietly handled that troublemaker at the shop.
“Edell, you did well to hold back. I’m proud of you.”
Even if he’d lost his memories and was just a child, Edell’s true self was a hot-tempered villain.
And he was always weak to praise.
“…It’s better than causing trouble. I do have self-control, you know.”
As he mumbled this with a red face, I looked at him warmly and asked with trust:
“When the family contest starts, a lot of people from the capital will come. Let’s make sure we keep our secret together, okay?”
The Belmore family’s contest always drew attention from the imperial palace and central government. Some important officials would probably come to look for talented people, but the real protagonists—the saintess or the crown prince—probably wouldn’t show up, so there was nothing to worry about.
My father and the family all suspected I’d awakened as a spiritist, but if they admitted it, I’d become the rightful heir. So they’d keep denying it until the end. That’s why I needed outside, objective opinions to be recognized.
“A secret just for us?”
Edell looked up at me with big round eyes.
“Of course. Only you and I know it.”
“Is it something special?”
Now that I said it, it did feel special. Well, Edell is a special case that needs attention.
“Of course. Come on, my special Edell.”
I stepped forward with determination, and Edell followed me, looking a little shy.
“By the way, what do you think the contest will be? If it’s ‘survive as the last one in a wasteland full of monsters,’ maybe we should give up, right?”
“Get a grip.”
Edell pressed my hand with his and scolded me. Who’s the real guardian here…?
“Edell! Hi!”
We ran into the kids Edell had played with before. It looked like they were heading to breakfast.
“When are we playing again?”
“I’ll let you know.”
Edell answered coolly, lifting his chin, but the kids just smiled kindly at him.
“Okay, I’ll send you a message later!”
They waved and went off.
Such loving, well-raised children. They’re like little flowers grown in the sun. I smiled at Edell with pride.
“You made friends.”
“Feels more like I got made into their friend.”
Edell scratched his head, looking a bit shy.
But since he didn’t firmly say no, I bet he actually likes it.
“Good job.”
I hugged Edell’s round head and patted him.
Edell, with his cheek pressed to my chest, went stiff.
“Sis, I keep telling you, I’m not a kid.”
“Fine, be a grown-up kid.”
Edell pushed me away, ears red, and grumbled.
“Just be careful, okay?”
Is he shy? He’s just too cute.
Soon, all the contest participants and family members gathered together.
When Great Duke Isaac Belmore, my great-grandfather, entered, everyone stood and greeted him with respect.
Even though he had finished his contract with the Spirit King and given up being the head, his authority in the family was the same as ever.
Especially now, when all kinds of disasters happened under the current head, and even the heirloom statue of Arnes was broken, no one would blame the old head for getting involved.
“This year’s contest will be completely different from before.”
With a wave, his assistant came forward and unrolled a huge scroll—a map of all the territories managed by the Belmore family.
“Out of all the participants, we’ll choose the top seven by competition. Each will be assigned a region to manage.”
I looked around at the participants. Even distant relatives who were spiritists had shown up, so there were a lot of contestants.
It was likely to be a series of one-on-one matches using spirit abilities. As a lower-rank spiritist, my chances of being one of the final seven were almost zero.
If it was based purely on ability, the results were already clear. The higher-ranked participants smiled confidently.
Even the Marquis, who’d looked unhappy all this time, seemed relieved.
“What do you think are the qualities of a good lord?”
William, the Grand Duchess’s son, shot his hand up.
“Like the previous heads, it’s about contracting a strong spirit and using its power freely.”
That wasn’t wrong—contracting strong spirits and using powerful magic was always the standard for being the head.
The Great Duke nodded.
“Harmony with spirits, wit, and knowing when to use which spirit are all important. But…”
He looked at William, who was so proud of giving the ‘right’ answer.
“Managing a territory is a separate skill. Knowing how to use the right people in the right places matters, too.”
That was a hint that the family had fallen because they only cared about spirit contracts.
“So, the first test won’t be just a contest of power—”
Thud!
Servants entered with books and documents, setting them down on the tables.
“These are things every lord must know. You’ll be tested on the chronicles of past heads, records of the territory, and related paperwork. All future tests will be the same.”
That much?
Family members gasped. The Marquis’s brother, Count Biern, stood up.
“Isn’t this basically an administration test? We’re from a ruling family, not central nobles or bureaucrats. We’re on a different level!”
He might as well have shouted, “My kid can’t study!”
Basilie and Lerazie had always relied on magic and never bothered with the paperwork. The minor nobles did most of that anyway. Most government jobs were handed out by recommendation, not by exam.
The Marquis protested strongly.
“Tradition aside, public contests of spirit magic show off the family’s strength and let the next generation shine. You’re blocking the kids’ futures.”
“So?”
The Great Duke just tilted his chin and stared him down.
“This is a fair test that anyone can pass with hard work. You always talk about fairness—are you going to complain now?”
That one line shut everyone up. The Marquis shook his head and stepped forward.
“Grandfather, let’s just cancel the contest. That’s my decision as current head, so please understand.”
But as soon as he finished, the Great Duke’s stern voice echoed through the hall.
“The destruction of Arnes’ statue means the Spirit King has turned his back on the Belmore family. Do you all understand?”
The Marquis’s face turned pale. The hall went cold and silent. Everyone had guessed it, but nobody had dared say it aloud.
The Great Duke leaned forward and stared hard.
“Our family’s ties with the spirit world are over. From now on, our children won’t awaken as spiritists.”
The Belmore family will never again produce a spiritist.
That meant all the special treatment and respect the family once enjoyed would soon disappear.
The room filled with anxious whispers. If they lost trust, investments, and business would stop, and the family would quickly fall.
This was all the reason the Great Duke needed to declare the current Marquis unfit and take away his authority.
I watched quietly and quickly understood the Duke’s intentions.
He was going to strip Chase Belmore of all his powers as head and give management of the territory to whoever earned it through the contest.
