The skeletal figure did not move at first.
Its hollow eyes stared at the hand that held it, and for a long moment, the entire inheritance space felt as if it had frozen in time, as if even the air itself had stopped moving just to witness what was happening.
Then slowly, its gaze rose.
It followed the arm.
It followed the presence.
And it met Clay's eyes.
"You…" the skeleton spoke again, but this time its voice carried something deeper than before, something that had not been there when it spoke to Cerys. "How did you enter this place?"
It was not just a question.
It was disbelief.
It was doubt.
It was the collapse of everything it believed was certain.
This place was not meant for two.
This space was bound, locked and sealed.
Only one soul could enter at a time, only one would be judged, and only one would either be accepted or rejected.
That was the rule.
That was the law.
And yet here he was.
A man who was supposed to not belong in this moment.
A man who seemed to break that law as if it meant nothing.
But one careful look, the skeleton inheritance see that Clay was not an assassin.
Not even close.
There was no trace of shadow mana in him.
No stealth.
No concealment.
Worse, he was bursting with holy power.
He stood there openly, boldly, his presence filled with something completely different, something that burned rather than hid.
And that made it even worse.
Because that meant he did not sneak in.
He forced his way in.
Cerys, who had been paralyzed moments ago, felt her body tremble as her thoughts struggled to keep up with reality.
Entering another consciousness.
Crossing into another person's inheritance trial.
That was not something recorded in any book.
That was not something taught in any academy.
That was not something whispered about even in forbidden circles.
It simply did not exist.
And yet…
He did it.
As if it was natural.
As if it was nothing.
Clay did not answer the skeleton immediately.
Instead, he looked at Cerys.
"Maid," he said in a calm voice, as if they were standing in a quiet room rather than inside a dangerous spiritual domain, "I did not expect you to have this much talent."
Cerys blinked.
Her mind lagged behind his words.
"It seems I do not have to worry about your safety once you take this inheritance."
The skeleton's aura flared violently.
"You!" it shouted, its voice echoing through the entire space, "who said I would give this inheritance to you?"
Before it could react further, Clay's grip tightened.
His hand closed around the skeleton's throat.
The bones creaked.
The pressure increased.
"Me," Clay said, his tone calm, direct, and completely without hesitation.
The skeleton's aura surged.
"That will not be enough," it replied, its voice filled with anger and something deeper, something like wounded pride.
Clay tilted his head slightly.
Then he spoke.
"The ones who betrayed you are already dead," he said, his voice steady, his words clear. "Every single one of them. Not a single descendant remains in this world."
The skeleton froze.
Its hollow eyes flickered.
It tried to see through Clay.
But then… he was suddenly taken aback.
"You…" it whispered, its voice breaking for the first time, "how do you know that?"
He can see through the truth in the eyes of Clay. And he can somegow sense that he's not lying.
Clay did not answer that directly.
"It does not matter how I know," he said, brushing the question aside as if it held no value. "What matters is that there is nothing left for you to cling to. There is no revenge left to take. There is no hatred left to feed."
"You speak too much," it said slowly, though the strength behind its voice had already begun to crack, "and I maybe nothing but an inheritance but I am not stupid. Hell, you don't even know what my brother looks like."
The skeleton's inheritance was still cautious. After all, he might be using some kind of magic to make his eyes look like they're telling the truth. If that's truly the case, then he can describe his brother well.
Clay almost laughed inside.
This idiot is still cautious.
His grip remained steady, firm, not tightening, not loosening, as if the skeleton's resistance meant nothing to him.
"You think I am guessing?" Clay said, his tone carrying a faint trace of amusement, though his gaze remained calm. "Then let me remind you of something you should never forget."
The skeleton's aura flickered.
Clay leaned slightly closer.
"Your brother," he said, his voice lowering, "was not as tall as you, but his shoulders were broader, and his hair was darker, almost black, unlike yours which had that faint silver tone even before you died."
The skeleton froze.
Its mind shook.
Clay continued, not giving it time to recover.
"He had a scar just below his left eye," he added, his voice steady, "not from battle, but from when he tried to copy your sword stance when he was younger and failed miserably."
The skeleton's hollow eyes widened.
"That scar never faded," Clay said, "even when he grew older and stronger. He kept it, because he said it reminded him of you."
The skeletal figure's hand trembled.
It tried to pull away.
But Clay's grip did not allow it.
"You used to laugh at him," Clay went on, his tone calm, almost nostalgic, as if he had truly seen it himself, "you told him he looked ridiculous, swinging a blade bigger than his own arm."
The skeleton's mind cracked open.
Memories rushed back.
A training yard, a young boy, a sword too heavy for him. Falling, getting back up, again, and again.
Clay did not stop.
"He admired you," he said, "not because you were a prince, but because you were strong. Because you walked your own path, because you chose to become an adventurer instead of hiding behind a title."
The skeleton's glow dimmed.
"He followed your path," Clay added, "but he did it in his own way. He trained harder. He endured more. And when you fell…"
Clay paused for a brief moment.
Then he continued.
"He did not cry," he said, "he did not break. He sharpened himself instead."
The air trembled.
"He hunted them," Clay said, his voice firm now, carrying weight with every word, "every single one of them."
The skeleton's aura began to shake.
"He found the man your wife loved," Clay continued, "and he did not kill him quickly. He made sure that man understood what he had done, every betrayal, every lie, every moment he stole from you."
The skeleton's fingers curled.
"He destroyed your wife's family," Clay added, "not just the ones involved, but anyone who tried to protect them, anyone who tried to hide the truth."
Cerys, who stood behind Clay, felt her breath grow uneven.
She could hear his thoughts behind those words.
This is how it happened, he thought quietly, this is what the dream showed me.
But he did not say that aloud.
"He did not leave anyone behind," Clay said, his voice calm again, "not a single descendant, not a single name."
The skeleton's body trembled.
"And your wife," Clay added, his tone lowering, "she begged."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
"But your brother did not listen," Clay said. "He ended it himself."
The skeletal figure shook.
Its hollow gaze dimmed, then flared, then dimmed again, as if it could not decide what to believe.
"You lie…" it said, but the words lacked strength.
Clay let out a quiet breath.
"If I am lying," he said, "then tell me why you are shaking."
The skeleton fell silent.
Its mind was in chaos.
It wanted to reject everything.
It wanted to deny it.
But the details…
The memories…
They were too exact to what he could remember of his younger brother's appearance and personality.
Clay loosened his grip slightly, but did not let go.
"You think I do not know your brother?" he said, his voice carrying a hint of impatience now. "Then let me tell you more so you remember him yourself."
The skeleton's gaze lifted slowly.
"He had a habit," Clay continued, "whenever he trained, he would clench his jaw so hard that it would leave marks on his lips, and he would not even notice until you pointed it out."
The skeleton's body stiffened.
"And when he was nervous," Clay added, "he would tap his fingers against the hilt of his sword, over and over, without realizing it."
The skeleton's aura flickered violently.
"You used to tell him to stop," Clay said, "because it was annoying."
The skeletal figure went completely still.
Its resistance crumbled.
"I…" it started, but no words followed.
Clay finally released its throat.
The skeleton did not move.
It simply stood there, as if everything that held it together had been shaken loose.
"I see…" it said slowly, its voice no longer sharp, no longer cold, but filled with something hollow and distant. "So… he really did it…"
Its head lowered slightly.
"He avenged me…"
There was no anger in its voice anymore.
Only a strange, quiet relief.
Cerys watched all of this, her heart pounding as she listened to every word, every detail, every memory that Clay revealed so casually.
And inside her mind, she heard him again.
Of course he did, Clay thought, although I didn't see it. That's how the main character explained it to you using some divination, so you could weaken the spell you gave to the assassin Villainess Cerys and for them to finally beat her.
Instead, he turned his attention back to the skeleton.
"My maid," he said calmly, "carries your brother's bloodline, even if it is faint. That is enough."
The skeleton slowly lifted its head.
Its hollow gaze turned toward Cerys.
For the first time, it did not look at her as prey.
It looked at her as something else.
Something closer.
"I see…" it repeated.
Then it let out a long, hollow breath.
"I will not take your body," it said, its voice calm now, "but understand this, girl."
Its presence gathered slightly, not in hostility, but in warning.
"The power you seek carries everything I left behind. My pain. My anger. My regret."
It paused.
"In time, it will grow into something inside you. An inner demon that will not stay quiet forever."
Cerys felt her body loosen.
She could move again.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she steadied herself.
But her answer came without hesitation.
"I still accept it," she said.
Her voice was firm.
Clear.
There was no doubt in it.
Clay glanced at her.
"I will handle it," he said simply.
The skeleton looked between them.
For a moment, it said nothing.
Then it nodded.
"Very well. Make sure to never betray him…"
Its body began to crumble.
Bone turned into dust.
The dust darkened, becoming thick and heavy as it moved toward Cerys.
She closed her eyes as it entered her.
The unknown cold, deep and endless power suddenly surged into her.
And Clay, watching from the side, simply nodded.
That went smoother than expected, he thought, this guy really is easy to fool with once you know his past.
Without another word, he stepped back, leaving the space as his consciousness returned to his body.
And in the silence that followed, the inheritance finally chose its new owner.