Lilith stared at the ring in her hand, blinking softly.
There was no trace of the ecstasy the phantom had expected—only a flicker of hesitation.
"Do I… have to accept it?"
"Huh!?"
The phantom froze.
He had imagined refusal, yes—but never this kind of calm, almost troubled rejection!?
The Human Mage Tower—once the sacred place countless mages had dreamed of joining—was now being dismissed so casually?
In his vision of the future, the one who accepted the Tower's inheritance should have undergone a final trial to prove their worth.
Yet now, the girl before him seemed utterly uninterested in his so-called legacy.
The realization left him momentarily at a loss.
A wordless sense of melancholy welled up in his chest.
Just then—
The Holy Sword in Lilith's hand began to tremble urgently, its blade pointing toward the depths of the hall.
The phantom instantly caught that detail, and the light of renewed hope flashed in his eyes.
"Ah… I see now."
