"Hey, are you serious? Forget the fact that this guy's the culprit—how could he possibly be Geryon Ashbourne's son?"
Furuka shouted, clearly in disbelief. All eyes were now fixed on El-Melloi II. Though it was shocking that Seigen was the culprit, that was still something most magi could accept. But him being Geryon's son? That was beyond outrageous.
"Exactly! I know perfectly well that I'm Shijin Jirōbō Seigen!" Seigen himself objected, his tone indignant.
"Lord El-Melloi, I'm sure you have your reasons for making such a claim, but he's from the Far East. How could he possibly be Geryon's son?" Heine added, voicing the doubts that were on everyone's minds.
"Then let's start from the beginning. This brings us back to the meaning behind the invitation," El-Melloi II said as he pulled out the Separation Castle invitation from his coat pocket.
"Isn't it just an invitation to determine the heir?" Luvia asked.
"Let me put it more plainly. Why were we gathered here in the first place? To solve some kind of inheritance puzzle? Everyone knows magi aren't detectives. They don't have that kind of twisted sense of fun."
A magus isn't a detective. If one were, they might design such puzzles for some perverse amusement. But a magus wouldn't. If one did, it would be because they were hiding something.
"Well said. Though, I have to admit, you're becoming more and more like a detective yourself. Maybe having Holmes possess you would be a better fit than Zhuge Liang."
Despite El-Melloi II's insistence, Daniel couldn't help but comment. After all, the detective novels Gray read came from El-Melloi II's personal library.
"Then, Lord El-Melloi, what is this gathering truly about?" Heine asked, glancing at Seigen, clearly still unwilling to believe he could be Geryon's son.
"A magus who wanted his child to inherit his legacy."
Those few simple words left everyone in the room silent. That was indeed the core of a magus's nature. Wasn't that why they'd all come here in the first place—to ensure the continuation of their magic crests?
Heine had once left for the Church but returned to his family for the sole purpose of inheriting the family's crest. Seigen, too, had once confided in him that he hated magic crests because of how they had disrupted his life, yet he accepted them to fulfill his duty to his lineage.
Heine had believed Seigen because of those honest conversations. Seigen's family originally had many successors—he had dozens of siblings. Some magi would seek out many women just to increase the chances of producing a promising heir.
If Seigen truly were Geryon's son, wouldn't it be natural for him to inherit his father's legacy?
"Lord El-Melloi, I don't know how you came to this conclusion, but you're wrong. Geryon did have a son, but that child died. I personally attended the funeral. Don't tell me you're suggesting it was fake," said Oroc in his youthful body.
"That's precisely it. His death is what led to all of this."
"What do you mean?"
Oroc looked puzzled. The others, including Gray and Rin, seemed equally lost, their minds spinning.
"Geryon Ashbourne was a repairer of magic crests. I don't know if you've heard of this, but sometimes after a heart or liver transplant, patients exhibit completely different personalities."
"I've heard of that," Oroc replied.
As someone who had lived for over a century, Oroc's experience far surpassed that of younger magi.
"This happens because organ transplants can sometimes transfer emotional memories."
"Interesting that he paid attention to this," Daniel muttered.
He was quite familiar with this phenomenon from his work as a doctor in the Marvel universe. While one's consciousness was usually tied to the soul, the body wasn't irrelevant. Otherwise, the phrase 'ascension of the flesh' wouldn't exist.
It was rare, but there were cases where personality changes occurred post-transplant. Daniel had even read a classified case file about a man who received a heart from the illegal organ trade. The donor's resentment seemed to carry over, leading the man to embark on a terrifying campaign of vengeance. It could've made a gripping thriller—if it weren't so sensitive that the records were sealed. Daniel only saw them thanks to Red Queen.
"What does that have to do with what's happening now?" Luvia asked, still confused.
"I don't need to explain what a magic crest means to a magus. Thanks to Daniel's earlier findings, you all know that Geryon used magic crests to repair other crests. But because magic crests are magic crests, it's extremely difficult to use one to fix another."
Though El-Melloi II's phrasing was awkward, every magus present knew enough about crests to understand.
Even a direct bloodline transplant could cause rejection, let alone grafting a crest from an unrelated stranger. Doing so usually led to the crest going berserk.
Not everyone could pull off what Aozaki Touko did—absorbing other magic crests as her own.
"Butterfly Magic," Gray suddenly said.
"Exactly. The only method to achieve this—grafting crests without rejection—is Butterfly Magic, transforming a pupa into a butterfly." El-Melloi II nodded in approval.
"Oroc, you once worked with Geryon. What was the research you did together?"
"What does that have to do with him being Geryon's son?" Luvia pressed again.
"Just like with heart transplants, if emotional memories can be passed on, then so can those of a magic crest. Seigen once received a crest restoration here. I believe it was at that time that Geryon used it to resurrect his dead son."
"Impossible!"
Seigen's face turned deathly pale. But even he now seemed to understand what El-Melloi II was saying.
"It's similar to resurrection. In the end, the dead Granid Ashbourne was dissected, and his crest was mixed with others and grafted into you. He became part of your body."
"No… I'm Seigen…"
Seigen trembled, his eyes filled with confusion and despair. It was horrifying—to unknowingly become someone else.
The others looked on in silence, unsure how to respond.
ROAR.
Just as Seigen was about to collapse, a beast suddenly emerged, standing beside him. With a roar, Seigen's expression shifted—from pale despair to eerie calm.
"You really live up to your title, Lord of the Clock Tower. I'm impressed you figured it out. Tell me—how did you know?" Though the voice came from Seigen's mouth, it now had a completely different tone.
"You're…"
"Yes. I'm Granid Ashbourne," he said, laughing.
ROAR.
The beast roared again, and its deafening cry turned into a shockwave aimed at the magi. But this time, it had no effect.
"What? Why didn't it work?"
Granid looked stunned.
"Simple. That beast's roar disables magic crests because of the workshop's structure. Though Luvia's attempt to seize it failed, I've taken partial control using her spell matrix." El-Melloi II explained calmly.
Since deciding to unmask the culprit, he had made thorough preparations.
"Trying to escape, are we? Gray!"
Seeing the beast scoop Granid into its mouth and prepare to flee, El-Melloi II signaled to Gray.
"I'll do it."
Just as Gray prepared to unleash Add, Daniel stepped forward and drew multiple runes in the air. From the ground, thorny vines erupted, binding the beast and dragging it back to the earth.
ROAR.
The beast roared again—louder and more frequent. This time, it wasn't the castle that trembled, but the countless angel statues. One by one, they began to shake.
Moments later, countless white phantasms erupted from the statues, filling the sky above the Separation Castle.
All the magi's expressions changed. They understood phantasms well enough. A single one wasn't too concerning—but this number? Not a single magus present would claim they could deal with such a horde.
And the sheer volume of phantasms showed just how many people had died in this place to fill those angel statues.
"Gray…"
Seeing Gray's trembling form, El-Melloi II sighed. He knew how afraid she was of spirits—but only she could handle this. She had to use her Noble Phantasm.
"I understand, Master."
Though terrified, Gray didn't hesitate. To protect her teacher, she summoned Add.
"Darkness, rejoice, yearn for corruption. Carve into me, and let me dig your grave."
With her chant, Add transformed into a scythe with a strange shape and an open mouth.
"Ahhh, such a feast. It's been too long since I tasted something so delicious!" the scythe crooned as it devoured phantasms.
"Add."
"Simulated personality disengaged. Mana output exceeds safety threshold. Initiating Phase Two limiter release."
This time, Add's voice was cold and robotic. Golden light began to radiate from Gray's scythe—brighter and brighter.
"O ancient mystery, vanish. Let this meager riddle be swallowed by oblivion. Spear of the End—Anchor Unleashed—Radiance of the End!"
A golden lance pierced the sky. Though it was night, the world became as bright as day. The swarm of spirits above was obliterated in an instant, and half of the Separation Castle began to crumble from the blast.
"King Arthur…"
Luvia murmured in awe as she gazed at the girl holding the radiant spear. Every magus knew the name King Arthur—and that legendary golden lance.
The others stared in silence as well. In this era of fading mystery, none of them had ever seen such a strike. It was divine—a true God Age-level attack.
"So this is a Noble Phantasm… and it wasn't even fully unsealed. I wonder if I can borrow it sometime," Daniel muttered.
He had other means of dealing with phantasms, but once El-Melloi II let Gray unleash Add, he held back—eager to witness its true power.
"So that's what this was about. My brother really knows how to stir up trouble,"
Back at Lainie's villa, Daniel had come at her invitation. After the incident, Gray's attack ended the crisis. When morning came, everyone departed. Once it was revealed the inheritance was simply meant for a magically manufactured "son," the magi lost interest.
The rest of the matter was left to the Department of Legal Affairs.
"Gray would've kept him safe even without me," Daniel said.
"It's because you were there that no one died. That's what this is about." Lainie handed him a file.
Upon returning to the Clock Tower, they met again with Ayanokōji Riri, who had come to consult El-Melloi II about handling the aftermath.
"No way… so that's what happened," Daniel muttered as he read the file.
It turned out that Granid Ashbourne wasn't Geryon's son at all—but Oroc's. He'd seduced his friend's wife. When Geryon found out, he plotted a brutal revenge, even transforming his wife into a monster.
That explained why the beast first targeted Oroc. It had been all about vengeance. And he had one final trick prepared… but Daniel's intervention prevented it from being used.
"That's the world of magi for you."
"You didn't come here just for this story, did you?"
Though Daniel found it all darkly fascinating, he had little interest in soap opera-level drama. Of all people, Seigen had drawn the shortest straw—now in custody by the Department of Legal Affairs, likely to be studied in depth.
"The auction is about to start. Interested in joining me?"
"Of course."
The Clock Tower held an auction every so often—an event celebrated throughout the magical world. With the Clock Tower as guarantor, even magi and magus-for-hire who rarely appeared in public would attend. After all, who could say what treasures might be offered?
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