"In light of the divine verification results, I believe Mr. Seth Reed has the right to inherit the title. The third clause of the decree can be reconsidered," Sir Bernard stated gravely.

Now, no one paid any mind to the Earl, who had soiled himself on the floor. After Sir Bernard finished speaking, he passed the scroll to Doyle, signaling him to inspect it as well.

Seth stood rigidly to one side, awaiting the final decision of the black-armored guard and the Knight. Regardless of the purity of Seth's lineage, the ultimate verdict of his succession rested with these two individuals.

Doyle quickly voiced his opinion, "I do not agree with altering the decree."

Everyone awaited Doyle's reasoning.

The imposing man in black armor leaned nonchalantly against the windowsill, toying with the defunct scroll. "The armistice is nearing its end, and war will soon be upon us again. The kingdom must unite to conquer the demon race and achieve everlasting peace for humanity," he began.

Turning to Seth, he continued, "As for you, my friend, how many years do you have left? Do you have an heir to carry on your title securely? Are you able to lead troops into battle yourself?"

"You appear incapable of all these," Doyle shrugged. "Then why covet the peerage? Why involve yourself in such significant affairs? For a peaceful remainder of your life, I suggest you renounce the title and return this land to its rightful ruler, for victory's sake, and for your own good."

Seth's mind was racing. Although Bernard had not objected to his succession, nor had he shown explicit support. Instead of a decisive arbiter, Sir Bernard resembled a spectator enjoying the show from the sidelines.

Meaning, the decision to inherit now laid exclusively in the hands of General Doyle, the defiant Knight in black armor who made no secret of his opposition and his blatant disdain for Seth.

Seth remembered Murphy's words; they were correct—this was indeed his only and best chance. But now, that chance seemed to be slipping through his fingers.

Feeling backed into a corner, the bedroom door opened, and in walked someone unexpected yet anticipated, with a beaming smile.

The four vigilant knights immediately drew their weapons and surrounded Murphy.

"I come in peace, sirs. I merely wish to offer some viewpoints regarding the issue at hand," Murphy declared, holding his hands above his head in a standard salute from a particular country.

The defiant knight fixed a glare on Murphy, "Who are you, daring to eavesdrop on our conversation?"

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Murphy, with a joking grin, replied, "I'm nobody of consequence, merely a traveling literary advisor, and as it happens, a good friend of Mr. Seth, hence my concern for him. As to how I came to be aware of your current dilemma," he tapped his head, "I'm rather smart."

"I detect no ill intentions from you," Sir Bernard interjected. "Share your insights, then."

Murphy thought to himself about Sir Bernard's naivety but kept a cheerful facade. "Allow me to speak, if you please."

"The difficulties Mr. Seth faces in claiming the peerage are threefold: Firstly, age is not on his side, nor is martial ability. Secondly, as you perceive it, Mr. Seth has no offspring, much like the Earl here; and thirdly, returning the land to the crown increases the annual taxes for the capital, aiding in preparations for war."

The Knight and General both nodded, acknowledging that indeed these were the current quandaries and curious to hear this young man's proposed solutions.

Murphy said confidently, "In my opinion, none of these issues apply to Mr. Seth. Not only does he possess considerable skills in governing his land, but he also has a valiant son adept in warfare — someone capable of ensuring a smooth succession while providing higher taxes to the kingdom and training troops within his domain to prepare for forthcoming conflicts. Just like that, the previous concerns have been effortlessly resolved."

The Earl's bedroom fell into silent contemplation. Bernard and Doyle weighed the pros and cons, whereas Seth gave Murphy a look of bewilderment, almost as if asking, "When did I acquire a son?"

Seeing Seth's contorted expression, Murphy struggled to conceal a chuckle. He winked at the butler, signaling that everything was arranged and urging him to play along with conviction.

Bernard turned to Seth, inquiring, "Is this young man's statement true?"

"Yes, Sir Knight, I do have a child. This literary consultant is my friend and is aware of my situation. Everything he has stated is factual," Seth replied earnestly, bowing his head.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, Seth had no choice but to acknowledge this sudden son, hoping only that Murphy and the masked man behind him could circumvent the Knight's lineage verification magic.

The Knight and the General exchanged a glance before Doyle commented, "Since you speak so confidently, bring this supposedly battle-ready child of yours. I’d like to put him to the test."

Without a word, Sir Bernard once again drew a scroll from his white cloth bag at his side, the gesture speaking volumes – they each had a hurdle to clear, and only passing these tests would qualify their consideration to amend the decree.

Murphy agreed with a smile, then left the Earl’s castle accompanied by the two knights, one in black and one in white.

Just a wall away from 2 Crest Street at the very edge of the Earl's castle courtyard, Murphy quickly located the prepared android Byron at home.

Murphy had forewarned Byron to seem more 'spirited' today, but given his skeletal build, such an aspect hardly seemed fitting. The task of sprucing him up naturally fell upon Byron’s partner, SlimeBrue.

As the 'flesh and blood' for android Byron, Brue had performed his duties admirably. Today, Byron looked as if he had rejuvenated by more than a decade, transforming from a slovenly middle-aged man into a dapper, clean-faced gentleman just past thirty with a restrained demeanor.

Murphy feigned genuineness as he informed Byron of his supposed true identity, to which the android reacted with expected disbelief.

After comforting Byron, Murphy revealed his purpose; knights from the capital, clad in black armor and a sacred one, wished to test Byron's mettle and lineage to ascertain the claim of his newfound, apparently inexpensive father's eligibility for ennoblement.

After contemplating for a moment, Byron cinched his great sword at his waist and turned towards Murphy and the accompanying knights with a confident, resolute expression.