Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I’m Stuck as Their Baby! - Chapter 50

Chapter 50: The Coolest, the Strongest, the Smartest
I smirk. “Not us.”

[Oh, I like this trio. Absolutely no teamwork. Glorious.]

Zareth grins, tipping his chair back, balancing on two legs like he owns the concept of gravity itself. Seraphina sighs, the sound of someone who has already calculated exactly how much patience she has left before she snaps. Spoiler: not much.

“So,” Zareth drawls, stretching his arms behind his head, “who’s the strongest?”

Seraphina gives him a blank look. “You are obsessed with this.”

“Of course, I am.” He smirks. “Strength matters.”

She exhales, slow and controlled. “Intelligence matters more.”

I rest my chin on my hand, watching them like an amused spectator at an impending disaster. “Oh, this should be good.”

Zareth leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Alright, then. Prove it.”

Seraphina blinks. “Prove what?”

“That you’re actually smart.”

Her lips press into a thin line. “I was reciting entire passages of celestial scripture before I could walk.”

“That doesn’t count.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “How does that not count?”

“Because that’s just remembering things,” Zareth says, waving a hand. “Any parrot can do that.”

Seraphina looks personally offended. “Comparing my mind to a parrot?”

“Did I stutter?”

[Oh, I love him.]

I smirk, enjoying this far too much. “He does have a point.”

Seraphina shoots me a glare sharp enough to cut steel.

“Fine,” she says coolly, straightening her posture. “Then let’s measure intelligence by strategy.”

“Sounds boring,” Zareth grumbles.

“No, sounds terrifying,” I correct, tilting my head at Seraphina. “I’m guessing you’ve already analyzed every noble in this room and calculated at least five different ways you could blackmail them.”

Seraphina doesn’t respond.

Zareth whistles. “Damn.”

She exhales through her nose. “Intelligence is about understanding the board before you play.”

“And strength is about flipping the board over when it doesn’t suit you,” Zareth counters.

Seraphina mutters something in Celestial that I think might be a curse.

I prop my elbows on the table. “You’re both overcomplicating it.”

They turn to me.

Zareth grins. “Oh, this ought to be good.”

I smile, slow and dangerous. “Power isn’t just strength. It isn’t just intelligence. It’s making people believe you’re something to fear.”

Seraphina folds her arms. “So, you rely on theatrics?”

“Yes.”

Zareth lets out a bark of laughter. “At least she’s honest.”

Seraphina looks personally offended again. “You admit that intimidation is your greatest skill?”

I shrug. “I don’t need to do anything. People fear me just fine without it.”

Silence.

Zareth lets out a low whistle. “That’s actually impressive.”

Seraphina exhales, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You’re insufferable.”

“I’m effective.”

[Both can be true.]

Seraphina, looking like she’s regretting every decision that led her to this moment, gestures vaguely. “Fine. If we’re all so great, let’s talk about magic. That’s a fair measure of ability.”

Zareth perks up at that. “Finally, something interesting.”

I roll my eyes. “Fine. Let’s hear it. What’s so special about Celestial magic?”

Seraphina, regaining her composure, lifts her chin. “Celestial magic is divine in nature. It grants flight, shields against corruption, and purifies curses. It is the very essence of the heavens.”

Zareth leans back in his chair. “So, basically, holy light and healing.”

Seraphina’s eye twitches. “It’s far more than that.”

I smirk. “You mean it’s just mostly that.”

Zareth snickers.

Seraphina glares at us both. “I can smite people with divine fire.”

Zareth raises a brow. “That’s slightly more interesting.”

She crosses her arms. “Celestial magic is powerful.”

“Sure,” I say, tilting my head. “Unless someone just punches you before you can use it.”

Zareth laughs so hard he nearly falls out of his chair.

Seraphina looks seconds away from committing heresy.

[This is going beautifully.]

Zareth wipes a tear from his eye. “Alright, my turn.”

He cracks his knuckles. “Demonic magic is raw, untamed power. It can tear through steel, break through wards, and shatter mountains.” He smirks. “Unlike some magic, mine doesn’t need permission.”

Seraphina scoffs. “It’s brute force.”

“It works.”

I tap my fingers against the table. “But is it controlled?”

Zareth winks. “That’s half the fun.”

Seraphina sighs like she’s being forced to listen to idiots. “So, in summary: my magic is divine, refined, and absolute. Yours is feral rage.”

Zareth grins. “Correct.”

She rubs her temples. “I hate this conversation.”

I smirk. “That’s because you’re losing.”

She looks at me, unimpressed. “And your magic?”

I lean back. “It’s different.”

Seraphina folds her arms. “Explain.”

I tilt my head slightly, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make them wonder if I actually will. The truth is, explaining my magic isn’t as simple as throwing around flashy terms like “divine fire” or “demonic destruction.”

Abyssal Requiem doesn’t fit into neat little categories like that.

But they don’t need to know that.

“It’s… different,” I say finally, choosing my words carefully.

Zareth raises an eyebrow. “Different how?”

I glance at Seraphina, who is already watching me like I’m some unsolved equation she needs to decipher. I don’t like that.

“It doesn’t function like yours,” I continue, keeping my tone neutral. “Celestial magic channels divinity. Demonic magic is raw power. Mine isn’t about force.”

Seraphina narrows her eyes slightly. “Then what is it about?”

I smile. “Influence.”

That gets their attention.

I tap a single finger against the table, slow and deliberate. “I don’t need to burn things to make them disappear. I don’t need to break through something to undo it. My magic doesn’t push it shifts.”

Zareth leans forward, intrigued. “So, what? You just… move things around?”

I hold his gaze. “In a way.”

[Technically true. Also deeply misleading. Excellent choice.]

Seraphina isn’t satisfied. “That’s vague.”

I shrug. “Good.”

She exhales through her nose, clearly frustrated. “What can you do with it?”

I consider the question, then lift my hand, palm up. Slowly, the space above it warps not like a flame, not like an illusion, but as if the air itself is second-guessing its own existence. The goblet in front of me trembles slightly, just for a moment, before settling.

Zareth watches with undisguised interest. “That’s… unsettling.”

Seraphina’s fingers tighten around her goblet. “It disrupts reality,” she murmurs.

I give her a slow, knowing look. “Something like that.”

She doesn’t like that answer. I can tell.

Good.

Zareth smirks. “Alright. That’s pretty cool.”

Seraphina, still visibly processing, exhales sharply. “And how do you control it?”

I lean back, my smirk widening. “Who said I do?”

The silence that follows is beautiful.

[Absolutely masterful.]

Zareth lets out a low whistle. “You might actually be dangerous.”

Seraphina frowns. “Might?”

I smile, slow and sharp. “What do you think?”

They don’t answer.

Because they already know.