Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I’m Stuck as Their Baby! - Chapter 53

Chapter 53: The Battle of Gifts
The moment I slid the ring onto my finger, I knew I had just unleashed absolute chaos.

The nobles were still frozen, caught somewhere between shock, horror, and sheer disbelief. Some of them looked like they wanted to faint, while others were silently calculating whether they needed to write their wills.

Riven, to his credit, was still breathing. Barely.

My parents, however, were far more composed.

Verania swirled her wine in her glass, eyes sharp and predatory, like a beast deciding whether or not to play with its food. Sylvithra simply observed the situation with a cool, unreadable expression, fingers lightly tapping against the arm of her throne.

“You made something for my daughter?” Verania asked again, her tone far too pleasant to be safe.

Riven swallowed. Loudly. “I—uh—yes?”

Sylvithra hummed. “Interesting.”

I smirked. “I think it suits me.”

[ You are such a menace. I approve. ]

The tension in the hall was suffocating. Every noble, merchant, and diplomat seemed to be waiting for either an execution or an explosion.

Neither happened.

Instead, Grand Empress Saelira, my grandmother, clapped her hands together. “Enough delays. It is time for the real gifts.”

Immediately, the tension shifted.

Because, of course, my family refused to let anyone outshine them.

The nobles who had already given gifts visibly deflated, realizing that whatever they had presented was about to become utterly irrelevant.

The first to step forward was Grand Warlord Eryndor.

My grandfather, calm and composed as always, lifted his hand, and with a single sharp snap of his fingers, two of his elite guards stepped forward, carrying a chest carved from obsidian and gold.

“For my granddaughter,” he said, his deep voice steady, “a token of my appreciation for her strength.”

The chest was placed before me, and the moment the lid was lifted, the room glowed.

Inside, resting atop black velvet, was an enchanted blade.

No.

Not just any blade.

A masterpiece.

The entire length of the sword was forged from obsidian-infused metal, dark as night and shimmering with eerie, spectral light. The hilt was wrapped in dark dragon leather, and the pommel was inlaid with a gemstone that pulsed with raw, contained power.

I reached out, running my fingers lightly along the blade.

It hummed.

A quiet, almost sentient whisper of energy crawled up my arm.

[ Oh. This is dangerous. I like it. ]

I smirked. “Grandfather, you have excellent taste.”

Eryndor inclined his head. “Naturally.”

The nobles who had given me books and jewelry visibly shrank in their seats.

Before I could even admire the sword properly, my other grandfather, Veylen, stepped forward.

“Not bad,” he said, eyeing the blade. “But I believe my gift will be more useful.”

A single gesture, and two of his own guards approached, carrying a heavily sealed iron box.

With a flick of his wrist, the box unlocked itself.

Inside was an ancient spellbook.

But not just any spellbook.

Bound in midnight-black leather with silver etchings that pulsed faintly, the entire tome radiated power. I could feel the sheer weight of forbidden knowledge woven into its pages.

Veylen’s lips curled slightly. “A collection of lost and ancient spells. I expect you’ll make good use of it.”

[ This man wants you to set something on fire. And I respect that. ]

I let my fingers brush over the cover, feeling the weight of magic pressing against my palm.

Oh, I was going to have so much fun with this.

Before I could even thank him, my Grandmother Ilythia gracefully stepped forward.

“I find weapons and magic to be… predictable,” she said smoothly. “So I have chosen something more fitting.”

A guard stepped forward, presenting a small, silver key on a velvet cushion.

I raised an eyebrow. “A key?”

Ilythia smiled. “To an estate. Your personal estate. A place for you to use however you see fit—a private domain for when you require space.”

I blinked.

[ You have your own estate now. The nobles are going to have a collective breakdown. ]

I carefully picked up the key, twirling it between my fingers. “I assume it’s more than just a simple estate.”

She smirked. “Naturally.”

The nobles were now visibly sweating.

Then—before any of them could fully recover—my final grandparent, Saelira, took the floor.

“My gift is simple,” she said, her violet eyes gleaming. “Power.”

I tilted my head. “Go on.”

She lifted a single hand. Magic rippled through the air, gathering into a swirling mass of energy that condensed into a small crystal.

She flicked her wrist, and the crystal floated toward me.

The moment I touched it, knowledge poured into my mind.

I inhaled sharply.

[ Oh, this is cheating. ]

I smirked. “Bloodline magic enhancement?”

Saelira smiled. “Exactly.”

My magic had already been ridiculous.

Now?

It was even worse.

The nobles looked positively ill.

And my parents?

They were visibly trying not to be outdone.

Verania was the first to move.

A single clap of her hands, and the room darkened. The walls shimmered as shadow magic expanded outward, revealing an entire section of the hall that had been magically hidden.

And inside that space?

An entire armory of enchanted weapons.

“For my daughter,” she said smoothly, “a selection of only the finest weapons in the world.”

The sheer volume of swords, daggers, and spears was absurd.

Sylvithra, not to be outdone, stepped forward next.

A single snap of her fingers.

And a golden griffin egg was placed before me.

The hall fell silent.

The nobles were losing their minds.

I blinked. “…You got me a griffin?”

Sylvithra smiled. “A legendary warbeast, raised to bond exclusively with its master.”

[ You have a pet now. A terrifying, battle-ready pet. I approve. ]

I smirked. “This is getting ridiculous.”

The nobles looked like they wanted to cry.

Riven, still standing there in stunned silence, muttered, “You think if I leave now, they’ll let me live?”

I laughed.

Verania, however, turned to him.

“What about you, boy?” she asked smoothly. “Surely you can’t expect that little ring to be enough?”

The room froze.

Riven froze.

The nobles froze.

Even I raised an eyebrow.

Riven looked at me.

I smirked.

“Oh, the ring is more than enough,” I said smoothly.

The entire room stopped breathing.

Riven looked relieved.

The nobles looked like they were mentally rewriting history.

Verania hummed. “Very well.”

Sylvithra simply smirked.

Riven?

He realized he was doomed no matter what.

And me?

I was just having the time of my life.