Second Choice Noble Son: Apparently I’m Stronger Than the Summoned Heroes Chapter 130 : The Missing Piece

(Selene’s POV)

Morning light poured through the windows of the Valemont estate, the kind that made the air shimr with dust and calm.

It should’ve been peaceful.

But the whole house was trembling with nervous energy.

I stood in front of the mirror, fastening the crimson clasp of my mantle — the formal robe of a Grand Mage of Asterion, though I hadn’t worn it in years.

It felt strange on now, heavy with the weight of the past.

Beside , Lyra flipped through a stack of papers while muttering under her breath.

Across the room, Darius adjusted the clasp of his coat, his expression unreadable as always.

None of us said it aloud, but the tension in the air was thick enough to taste.

We were about to et a Seer — a living legend.

And not just any Seer.

The one who had declared herself bound to my son.

Lyra was the first to break the silence.

“Try not to set anything on fire this ti,” she said without looking up.

I gave her a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “I only burned one table. Once.”

“That was the Empress’s table,” she reminded .

Darius coughed into his hand, pretending to hide a smile.

I ignored both of them.

I’d faced generals, witches, and even gods.

But today?

Today, I was preparing to et a girl who might take my son away — and that thought alone made my mana hum restlessly beneath my skin.

Just as I finished tightening my gloves, the door creaked open.

Small footsteps padded inside.

“Mother,” ca Rooga’s calm voice.

I turned — and there he was, hair still a ss from the morning wind, a carving knife tucked into his belt, as if he’d just co from the village again.

“Where are you all going?” he asked. “Everyone’s acting like there’s a ceremony.”

Before I could answer, Darius started, “We’re just eting—”

“—a delegation,” I cut in smoothly.

“A few neighbors from far away, that’s all.”

Rooga tilted his head. “From far away?”

“Very far,” Lyra said without looking up, her tone deliberately vague.

He frowned slightly, stepping closer. “Then can I co?”

“No,” I said quickly, too quickly.

He blinked at , surprised by my tone.

I softened my voice. “It’s a formal eting, dear. You’d be bored.”

“But…” He hesitated, eyes distant for a mont, as though listening to sothing I couldn’t hear.

Then he looked at again, his expression quiet but strange.

“Mother,” he said softly, “sothing’s calling .”

My heart skipped. “Calling you?”

He nodded. “It feels… like a piece of . Like sothing that’s been missing. I can’t explain it. It’s warm, and—”

I froze where I stood.

That was exactly how the Seer had described him in her letter.

The other half of her song.

The one whose presence she could feel.

And now, my son was feeling it too.

I forced a smile I didn’t feel.

“Rooga,” I said gently, “sotis when your mana grows, you’ll start to feel strange things. Echoes. It’s just the world shifting around you.”

His brows furrowed. “So it’s normal?”

“Completely,” I lied smoothly.

“It ans you’re maturing — your senses are expanding. You’ll feel traces of mana you didn’t notice before.”

He looked uncertain. “But this isn’t like mana. It’s… different.”

I stepped forward, resting a hand on his shoulder.

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His pulse was steady, his aura calm, but the undercurrent of that other resonance still clung to him like the scent of rain before a storm.

“Then let it pass,” I said quietly. “Not every call is ant to be answered.”

He looked up at , searching my face.

For a second, I thought he saw through the words — the motherly calm I’d forced over the sudden terror in my chest.

Then he sighed and nodded. “All right.”

He left the room soon after, the sound of his footsteps fading down the hall.

Only when he was gone did I let out the breath I’d been holding.

Lyra closed her folder softly. “You know that wasn’t imagination,” she said.

“I know.”

“Then why lie to him?”

I t her eyes in the mirror. “Because if he learns what’s waiting out there, he’ll go.”

Darius’ voice was low. “He deserves to know one day.”

“One day,” I said firmly. “But not now. He’s still just a boy. He’s given enough to this world already.”

I glanced out the window, where the faint glimr of mana shimred on the horizon — the elven delegation nearing the estate.

“Whatever that Seer is,” I murmured, “I won’t let her take what’s left of his peace.”

The council chamber of Valemont had never been this quiet.

Not during the war.

Not during the rebuilding.

Not even when the first corrupted beast appeared on our doorstep.

But today, silence felt different — heavy, suffocating, the kind that pressed against your chest and made breathing seem like a disturbance.

At the long table sat myself, Darius, and Lyra on one side.

Across from us, the elven delegation of Elarindor — their silvery armor gleaming, their robes pristine, their faces carved from marble.

And in the center of them all, seated in stillness like a statue of living light, was the Seer of the Veil.

She looked… too small for the title they gave her.

Barefoot. Blindfolded.

Her long silver hair pooled around her like spilled moonlight.

Since the start of the eting, she had said nothing.

Not a greeting, not even acknowledgnt.

Every question, every courtesy, every carefully asured sentence we offered went unanswered.

Instead, her attendants spoke for her — calm, precise, reverent.

“The Seer seeks audience with the one who cast the Serenity Rain.”

I kept my expression still.

The lie ca easier than I wanted it to.

“That would be .”

A faint murmur passed through the elves.

Even Darius stiffened slightly beside .

The elven representative — a man nad Theoran — inclined his head politely.

“Then the Seer offers her gratitude. That spell is said to have healed half the world’s veins in its wake.”

“Then I’m glad to hear it,” I said smoothly. “We only did what was necessary.”

Theoran’s eyes flicked to the Seer.

She didn’t move.

Didn’t nod.

Didn’t breathe differently.

Just sat there — silent, like a blade still in its sheath.

As the discussion continued, I began to notice it — the way every representative, every soldier, kept glancing toward her after every exchange.

Every answer they gave, every word they spoke, was weighed against the Seer’s stillness.

They didn’t follow their king.

They followed her.

Even when she didn’t speak, she ruled the room.

And though her blindfold covered her eyes, I could feel the pressure of her attention — faint but inescapable.

It was like she could see the truth hiding beneath my words.

By the ti the sun reached its zenith, I had nearly convinced myself that maybe the eting would end peacefully.

Maybe she wasn’t going to question the lie.

Maybe, just maybe—

“Where is he?”

The voice was soft but carried through the chamber like a ripple in still water.

It was the Seer.

The first words she had spoken all day.

Her attendants froze.

Even Theoran turned pale.

I forced a smile. “Pardon?”

“Where is he?” she repeated.

Her tone was calm, but the air shifted with it — a subtle tremor, like mana itself listening.

I kept my posture straight. “I don’t know who you an, Lady Seer.”

Her head tilted slightly. “You know.”

That quiet confidence clawed at my nerves.

“I think you misunderstand—”

“You said,” she interrupted softly, “that if I respected your wishes, you would respect mine.”

Lyra’s hand brushed against the table beside , her mana already coiling — ready if things went wrong.

Darius stayed still, but I could feel his energy tense beside .

“I have respected you,” the Seer continued, her voice trembling — not with fear, but with sothing older, heavier.

“Now it is your turn.”

Her aura began to change.

It spread slowly at first, like mist seeping from the cracks of her small fra.

The air thickened, and the mana in the room began to bow.

I’d felt this before.

Three years ago.

When Maori’s grief turned the entire grove into a storm of rage as Rooga’s life bled away beneath her branches.

It was the sa pressure.

The sa divine tremor.

Only this ti, it was focused on .

The Seer stood, the runes on her blindfold faintly glowing.

“You have his mana on you,” she said, her small voice echoing like a bell.

“Not just you — all three of you.”

Darius inhaled sharply.

Lyra’s gaze flicked toward .

“I don’t care if you lie to ,” the Seer said, her tone steady but her aura shaking the table beneath her.

“If you won’t show , I’ll find him myself.”

She took a step forward, and the room shuddered.

Chairs creaked, dust rained from the rafters.

“Wait,” I said quickly, rising to my feet.

But she was already moving.

I caught her wrist — small, delicate, cold as moonlight.

“Please,” I said quietly, “I can’t.”

Her blindfold turned toward .

“You don’t understand,” she whispered, voice trembling now.

“I need to find him. Now.”

And then her voice changed.

It wasn’t a shout, but it shook the entire chamber like thunder rolling inside a mountain.

“I need to find him — or the world will burn again!”

The candles snuffed out.

The walls vibrated.

Outside, the wind roared through the streets as the pressure of her divine mana spilled into the air.

Her next words ca softer, choked with urgency.

“If I can reach him, we will all be alive.

If I don’t… the world will end.”

And as the air fell silent again, I realized the truth that made my heart twist:

She wasn’t angry.

She was terrified.