"Eh...!?"
"B-Brother... to me...!?"
Things were taking a bizarre turn. Hugo felt a bead of sweat roll down his spine as he processed Drowa's words.
Hugo hadn't considered such a thing for a single second, but the candidates vying for the position seemed convinced he was plotting to hand the seat of the next head of the house to Fee.
"H-Hey, hold on a second. I'm not thinking about anything like that."
"Oh, are you sure? We can't simply rule out the possibility. Perhaps you looked at your younger brother—placed in such a miserable position because he lacks Magic Knight aptitude—and decided you wanted to do something about it?"
"Using your recent deeds as leverage to recommend Fee as the next head to your father... it's a perfectly plausible scenario. Reinstating you would be a scandal, but appointing him would be a far easier move for the current head to make."
"..."
This is a mess, Hugo thought, feeling cornered by the hostile glares of the three candidates.
He was at a total loss. He had explicitly stated he had no interest in the position, yet they had twisted his words into a complex conspiracy. Before he could argue further, Fee interjected.
"I-I have no intention of becoming the head of the House of Clay! I've been studying so I can serve as my brother’s right-hand man! Without my brother by my side, being the head of the family is meaningless!"
"Regardless of what you say, we have no way of knowing your true heart. It is entirely possible the two of you coordinated this lie beforehand."
"I’m not the kind of guy who forces Fee to do things he hates," Hugo growled. "I wouldn't dream of shoving him into that seat when he’s telling you he doesn't want it."
"And I am telling you that we have no way of judging the sincerity of your words!"
"Then what do you want from me? What will it take to satisfy you people?"
Between the constant recruitment offers and the endless crowds, Hugo was already at his limit. If he got dragged into a bloody succession war for the House of Clay on top of everything else, he was going to snap.
Neither he nor Fee wanted anything to do with the seat, but when Hugo asked how to settle the matter, Drowa spoke up.
"We cannot simply take your word for it. Not as long as you possess the power to sway the succession, and as long as you brothers hold the qualifications to claim the seat. Therefore, at the very least, we must test your strength."
"......What does that mean?"
"Whether you intend to take the seat yourself or act as a kingmaker for Fee, we need to measure exactly what you’re capable of. I have no desire to suffer the humiliation of serving someone inferior to myself."
"So, let us see what you’re made of, Hugo Clay! If we can confirm that you are truly our superior, we will hold our tongues. Though, I can't guarantee you won't meet a miserable end as a result of our 'test'."
"......So, if I pass your test, you'll stop bothering me? Is that the deal?"
In response to Hugo’s question, the three of them gave a silent, firm nod.
Hugo watched them for a moment, then let out a sharp sigh. He shifted his mental gears, his expression hardening.
"Fine. I'll play your game. But you'd better not forget that promise."
"Hehe...! You certainly have nerve. At the very least, you have the grit not to be easily cowed. In that case—"
Drowa gave a fearless smirk and glanced at Mad. He returned the look with a cryptic grin of his own and promptly slipped away from the area.
Hugo watched Mad leave with a suspicious eye, wondering where he was heading. Then, Fango—who had been silent until now—loomed forward and spoke.
"You're with me. Follow. I'm going to find out if your power is the real deal. And I plan on crushing you to do it."
"Whoa there. I was wondering when you were going to speak up, but your opening line is a bit much, don't you think?"
"I don't care for talk. Leave the petty schemes to the others. Humans, monsters, Magic Armor Beasts... they all bow to those stronger than them. The strong stand at the pinnacle. That is the singular truth of this world."
"I see... so your truth is found in your fists."
Hugo’s eyes dropped to Fango's hands, which were clenched so tightly they looked like stone.
Fango seemed to like the phrasing. His eyes narrowed with a flicker of grim amusement, and he let out a low, guttural growl as he locked eyes with Hugo.
"Come, Hugo Clay. I will be the one to test your martial prowess."