Second Choice Noble Son: Apparently I’m Stronger Than the Summoned Heroes Chapter 131 : The Hand I Must Let Go

(Selene’s POV)

The echo of the Seer’s voice still clung to the air long after the mana storm subsided.

Dust drifted down from the rafters, the walls groaning as if the entire manor had held its breath.

No one spoke.

Not Lyra.

Not Darius.

Not the elves standing frozen in place.

The girl—the Seer—stood before , trembling. Her blindfold hid her eyes, but I could feel the desperation radiating from her, raw and innocent.

She wasn’t trying to threaten .

She was pleading.

And that was what broke .

For years, I’d fought to keep my children safe from prophecy, from bloodlines, from destiny.

Elara had nearly died chasing legacy.

Riaz was growing under the shadow of expectation.

And Rooga… my Rooga, the miracle child I had almost lost once, the boy who brought peace to the land—

He was the one I wanted furthest from all this.

The Seer’s voice still echoed in my ears:

“If I don’t find him, the world will end.”

She was a child.

Yet her words carried the sa weight I’d heard from gods and demons alike.

And she wasn’t wrong.

I could feel it.

Rooga’s mana pulsed faintly in the distance, harmonizing with hers through the walls like a call and answer.

Every ti her breath hitched, his mana rippled in return, as if his soul knew she was here.

I wanted to say no.

To throw her out.

To tell her to leave my family and her prophecy behind.

But that sa selfishness was what nearly destroyed three years ago—when I almost lost my son because I couldn’t let him breathe beyond my protection.

This ti… I couldn’t make that mistake again.

My hands shook as I reached out to the girl.

“Co,” I said quietly.

The attendants gasped softly, and even Darius turned toward .

“Selene—”

I didn’t look at him. “She’s not wrong.”

Lyra’s lips parted as if to argue, then she just sighed, the faintest of knowing smiles touching her face.

The Seer tilted her head slightly. “You’ll take to him?”

“Yes.”

The word scraped out of like glass.

“Yes, I’ll take you.”

The manor’s doors opened with a low groan as we stepped outside.

The sunlight hit my face, warm but heavy.

Each step down the path felt like surrender—one heartbeat closer to giving up sothing I had kept clenched too tightly for too long.

The Seer walked beside in silence.

Her small hand brushed against mine once, not in seeking comfort, but in quiet understanding.

It was strange—how calm she seed now.

The storm that shook the room had vanished, replaced by serenity that felt almost divine.

Lyra followed behind us, her presence steady, keeping the others at bay.

Darius stayed at the manor door, watching, saying nothing—his expression unreadable.

The road curved toward the grove, and the faint shimr of mana ahead told he was there.

Rooga.

My son.

The boy who once clung to my robe just to walk beside .

The child who had looked up at with those bright eyes and said, “Mother, I’ll make the world beautiful for you.”

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And now… he was sothing more than mine.

Sothing the world itself was beginning to claim.

I slowed for a mont, looking up at the sky.

The clouds drifted lazily above the shimring fields, the sa sky that had watched raise him, scold him, pray for him.

I whispered to myself, so softly that even the Seer couldn’t hear:

“You’ve always belonged to the world, haven’t you?

I just never wanted to admit it.”

The Seer turned her head toward as if she had heard, though her blindfolded eyes gave nothing away.

“I don’t an to take him from you,” she said quietly.

I managed a faint smile. “You don’t have to. The world already will.”

We walked the rest of the way in silence—one mother and one prophet, both bound by the sa boy, both terrified of what their love for him might cost.

And as the grove ca into view, glowing faintly with Maori’s light, I felt sothing loosen in my chest—

a pain both bitter and beautiful.

The pain of finally learning how to let go.

(Lunaria Aevielle’s POV)

To most, sight was a blessing.

To , it was a curse that never stopped burning.

The world I saw was not made of shape and shadow, but of colorless mana—threads, pulses, and auras, each with its own rhythm and voice.

Every breath of magic painted a shape, every living being shimred with its own hue.

The stronger their mana, the brighter they burned in my mind.

That was why the blindfold existed.

A Seer who saw too much eventually went blind from it—not in flesh, but in the mind.

The pain ca first: a headache that felt like the world itself was screaming through my skull.

Then the lights ca, endless, overlapping, until color beca agony.

The first ti it happened to , I was twelve.

By the ti I was fifteen, the council blindfolded and declared Seer of the Veil.

The silk was not a symbol of holiness.

It was rcy.

The path to the grove was soft under my feet.

Selene walked beside , her steps steady but heavy, her mana flickering with emotion she couldn’t hide.

Lyra followed a few paces behind, silent, observant as always.

The air around us shimred faintly—every blade of grass alive with light.

The human lands had always looked strange to , full of crude magic and disorganized mana, but here…

Here, it was clean.

Balanced.

I could feel the world breathing.

The further we went, the brighter everything beca.

At first, it was beautiful—colors weaving together like threads of song.

But as the grove drew closer, sothing changed.

The mana began to fade.

Not die—simply… disappear.

Like the color itself was being swallowed by sothing brighter, sothing that consud all light.

I slowed my steps.

“Strange,” I murmured.

Selene looked over. “What is it?”

“I can’t see,” I whispered.

The air trembled.

Every trace of mana around —every pulse, every breath—was gone.

I had lived my whole life seeing through the world’s colors, and suddenly, there was nothing.

A void.

The closer I ca to that grove, the emptier it beca.

Then, without warning, it happened—

Light.

Not color, not shape—just pure brilliance.

Too vast to comprehend, too beautiful to bear.

I gasped, stumbling forward, pressing a hand over my blindfold.

“Lady Seer?” Selene’s voice was distant, muffled, like she was speaking through water.

“I can’t see!” I cried out, panic lacing my words. “It’s—too bright!”

But even as I said it, I realized… this wasn’t pain.

It was warmth.

The kind of warmth that didn’t blind—it embraced.

And then, through that brilliance, a familiar voice reached .

“Hello.”

The sound was soft, kind.

Human.

But behind it was a resonance that made my heart stutter—the sa rhythm from my vision, the sa heartbeat that had echoed through the prophecy.

I turned my head toward it, reaching out instinctively.

My fingers brushed through empty air, trembling like those of a blind child trying to find her way.

“Hello,” I whispered back.

The air between us pulsed faintly, calm and alive.

“Wait,” the voice said again—closer now.

“Here.”

Sothing gentle touched my cheek—fingers, warm and careful.

I flinched, startled, but he only laughed softly.

“You can see if you wear this.”

There was a faint rustle.

And then—light pressure against the side of my head.

The blindfold loosened.

For the first ti in decades, the silk slipped away.

The world didn’t explode into chaos or light.

Instead, it fell silent.

No mana.

No color.

No pain.

Only a single shape before —

a boy with black hair, eyes the color of the earth after rain, and a smile that felt impossibly human.

The boy from my vision.

He was the first thing I had seen with my eyes in over thirty years.

And in that instant, I forgot the world, the prophecy, the goddess, everything.

I could only whisper, barely breathing,

“…so this is what you look like.”

He smiled wider, tilting his head. “You sound like you’ve been waiting a while.”

“I have,” I said softly, tears welling before I could stop them. “Longer than you can imagine.”

And as the wind moved through the grove, carrying the faint hum of divine mana around us, I finally understood what my visions had shown —

This light wasn’t destruction.

It was him.