Reincarnated Lord: I can upgrade everything!-Chapter 422: Green-Haired Heir?

"What do you mean by that?" Kelvin's voice dropped a note lower, slow and sharp like the drawing of a blade. His face darkened, jaw clenched as he leaned forward in his high-backed chair, shadows crawling beneath his eyes. It was the last thing he wanted—the apothecary summoned into this room, dredging up truths best buried.

If what Nero told him was true… that Lord Asher had drawn his blade on Sapphira—his own wife—then the matter was far graver than rumour. A breach of the marriage covenant was a stain that no silk could hide. And yet, even then, Kelvin was willing to shield her name from disgrace. If Asher, despite his wrath, hadn't struck her down, then who was he to cast the first stone?

Around the chamber, a hush hung heavy. The council's expressions tightened like drawn bows.

James inhaled, his shoulders sagging with the weight of what he was about to say. "The priestesses of the Crimson Temple handled the birth," he began, his voice as brittle as old parchment, "but I stood behind them, watching… just in case." freёweɓnovel.com

He paused. His eyes dimmed, yet glinted with an awed sheen—as though the memory had etched itself into his soul and refused to leave.

"That night…" He looked at the floor, then up again, slowly. "The hand of a child emerged first."

The words fell like a stone into still water.

Gasps rippled through the room. Claude's brow furrowed. Aquila stiffened. Even Finn Waters blinked twice.

"A hand?" Katarina murmured, disturbed. "Not the head?"

James nodded solemnly. "It was unnatural. Ominous. A bad sign, yes—but not the worst. Alarmed, I instructed the priestesses to mark the first child—tie a blue cloth around its wrist to distinguish it from the second."

He exhaled, breath shaking.

"But before we could act… the child retracted its arm. Moments later, another emerged—headfirst. A full, healthy boy."

He paused again. "But… it was not the same child."

"What?" Claude leaned forward, eyes wide in disbelief. "Is that even possible?"

Viscount Dremlen asked cautiously. "Could they have... changed positions?"

James met his gaze. "In all my years, I've never seen anything like it. The second child came out first. The one we marked was still inside—and emerged only later. Two sons. But which one was the rightful firstborn… I cannot say."

A heavy silence draped over the hall like fog.

"That night," James added, voice lowered, "was no ordinary birth. The one that came headfirst had snow white hair and bright, golden eyes..."

Everyone's eyes glowed at that. Finally, something to tell the people that this matter wasn't as they thought.

But James wasn't done. "As for the second… the one with the blue cloth," James continued, voice scarcely above a whisper, "he had a head full of vibrant green hair… and emerald eyes."

Kelvin closed his eyes for a moment, as if shielding himself from the blow. His heart sank.

The room grew colder, heavy with implications.

Even Aquila, and Alec, steel-hearted, showed visible unease. The tension coiled in the air like a snake waiting to strike.

"G-green hair?" Claude stammered, a bead of sweat running down his temple. Despite being the loudest voice demanding the truth, the weight of it now made his bones tremble.

"Is there any noble with green hair?" Adam's deep voice broke through, steady and grim.

"None that I know," James murmured. "Such hair colour should belong to the elves… or the fairies."

BAM!

Alec's hand slammed down on the table, cracking the wood. His eyes were shut, but his fists trembled with fury.

"Scour the land," he barked at the guards behind the massive oak doors. "Every winged being. Every creature with pointed ears. Bring them all."

The guards exchanged glances, unsure, but the weight of Alec's command left no room for protest.

"That will plunge us into war," Aquila protested, rising to her feet. "Do you know what it means to violate the peace of the elven kind and the fairies in the land, even if there are any, distrust from other races? This action—"

Her voice was sliced short by Alec's glare—sharp, livid, unwavering.

"We've been mocked!" Alec shouted. "Our Lord has become the laughingstock of the realm. They dared insult the dominion's pride—his wife, of all women, has given birth to a stranger's child! Sapphira… she must face justice."

He turned, cloak swirling behind him as he stormed toward the door.

"He still didn't kill her," came Kelvin's voice—quiet, yet heavy as iron.

Alec froze. Slowly, he turned, eyes narrowing at the man he once called friend.

"What are you implying?" Alec asked through gritted teeth.

Kelvin met his gaze evenly. "If Asher—our lord, the most disciplined among us, known for cutting down traitors without hesitation—chose not to strike her… then who are we to decide in his place?"

Alec's jaw clenched, but no reply came.

"Do we become beasts pretending to uphold honour? Or wait… for the man whose honour we claim to protect?" Kelvin's words hung heavy in the chamber.

Outside, just beyond the great door, Cynthia leaned closer. Her breath hitched. She had heard it all. The paladins stood idle behind her—silent allies, unmoved by her eavesdropping.

She had only told them: It's for His Lordship. That was enough.

Now her face paled at Alec's words. Justice. Retribution. War.

Inside, Claude turned to Kelvin. "Send a decree."

Katarina lowered her head. Her mind spun, not from doubt in the evidence but from disbelief. Everything she'd seen—pointed to Sapphira giving birth to Asher's heirs. It should have been a moment of celebration.

But now… only doubt and whispers remained.

She looked at Adam. His head was bowed, hands clenched into fists.

So… he had tried to clear her name. Unfortunately, he didn't trust Kelvin. And all this time, she thought his silence was guilt. Now it reeked of grief.

Finn Waters stood slowly. "Have the city guards bring her. If the Crimson Temple knights resist—remove them. By force if necessary."

"Stop."

Katarina's voice rang with unusual power. Everyone turned toward her.

"There's something I've been hiding," she said, rising, her face solemn. "A vision… about His Lordship."

The room fell to stillness, as if time itself paused to hear what would come next.