[Lifespan Remaining: 2 days, 22 hours, 49 minutes.]
’20 minutes just to cast a single spell.
That’s the tradeoff, isn’t it?’
The dull ache from before started coming back.
From his wrist toward his elbow, followed by a sudden tightness in his chest.
Noct leaned back into his wheelchair and took a shallow breath.
Even accounting for the time he had spent reading, far too much had disappeared.
He did expect a price, seeing that the original Noct’s condition always worsened whenever he used magic in the game.
But still…
‘At this rate, I might die practicing before even getting to the duel.’
Noelle had turned toward him, her dagger already out of sight.
“Young Master, are you hurt?! What the hell just happened? Did you do something…?”
Noct closed his trembling hand before she could inspect it.
“No, I’m just a little…tired, that’s all.”
The young maid didn’t look like she bought his claim, but before she could say anything, voices suddenly rang out from beyond the courtyard.
“Young Master!”
Several knights had made their way over to the training ground with their hands resting on their weapons.
They looked around, trying to find the commotion, but only seeing Noct and his maid here.
“We heard an explosion! Is everything alright?!”
One of the knights stepped forward, making his way over to inspect the destroyed target before his gaze moved to Noct.
“Did you—?”
“It was my fault,” Noelle spoke out before the man could finish his accusation.
“The Young Master wished to watch me practice. I mishandled a spell, that was all.”
“…You mishandled it?”
“Yes,” she repeated without even the slightest change in her expression.
“I misjudged the distance. It won’t happen again.”
“Well, I certainly hope not.”
This time, it was a voice that came from behind the knights.
They stepped aside as a young man in his early twenties entered the courtyard, dressed in a dark blue coat with the Arcadia insignia fastened over his chest.
His black hair had been neatly swept to one side, and unlike Noct, there was some actual color in his face.
‘For fuck’s sake…of all the Arcadias I could’ve encountered first.
It had to be this one?’
Faust de Arcadia, the second eldest son of the family and middle child of the First Lady.
Also, perhaps the least impressive Arcadia of the generation.
There was one thing he was exceptionally good at, though: Making himself someone else’s problem.
Faust stopped beside the knight and looked over the ruined target.
His eyebrows rose before he turned toward Noelle.
“That was quite the mistake.”
“Young Master Faust,” Noelle bowed, greeting him.
“You could have hurt him,” Faust continued, gesturing toward Noct.
“Surely you know how delicate my little brother is.”
“I’ll be more careful.”
“Please do. We’ve already spent enough trying to keep him alive.”
Apparently satisfied with her answer, Faust waved a hand toward the knights.
“Nothing to worry about. You can return to your posts.”
The men glanced at Noct, waiting for him to confirm.
He gave a small nod, and they began filing out of the courtyard.
Faust waited until the last one had stepped through the doorway before approaching his chair.
“Well, this is a pleasant surprise.”
“Is it?”
“Of course. You’re outside.”
His brother said it with so much enthusiasm that Noct wondered whether he expected an applause.
“I thought you’d be pleased to see me.”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
Faust laughed, apparently taking that as a joke.
His eyes wandered toward the open grimoire on the table.
“Fundamentals of One-Star Magic”
“Watching your maid practice, was it?”
“That’s what she said.”
“And reading a grimoire while you do it?”
“Would you prefer that I read a cookbook?”
“No, no. It’s good to see you taking an interest.”
Faust rested a hand on the back of the empty chair beside him.
“I was just wondering what brought this on. Does this mean you’re planning to win the duel now?”
Noct raised an eyebrow at the statement.
‘The duel?’
He had expected a challenge.
In fact, preparing for it was the entire reason he was sitting here.
But as far as the rest of the household knew, nobody had challenged him yet.
“What duel?”
Faust shrugged casually.
“The Rite of Contention. Surely you’ve heard something by now.”
“Have you?”
“The branch families have been talking. You know how they are.”
Noct leaned back, trying to keep the strain out of his voice.
“How are you so sure? Maybe they’re planning to challenge you instead?”
Clearly, he had hit a sensitive spot.
Throughout his life, Faust had never been good at magic, only able to reach the level of a 3-Star Sorcerer after the family had funneled every resource imaginable to him.
Though, the man was quite good at keeping his anger inside.
Instead, he pointed toward Noct.
“Baby brother, you can barely stand. You know you’re the target if any Rite of Contention happens, right?”
“I’m aware.”
“And you think reading a few pages will change that?”
But without an answer, his brother glanced toward Noelle, who had remained quietly while the brothers were talking.
“You shouldn’t encourage him too much. A little exercise is fine, but there’s a difference between that and letting him hurt himself.”
“The Young Master asked for my assistance.”
“Yes, and sometimes he asks for things that aren’t good for him.”
“Don’t you have anything else better to do?” Noct sighed.
Faust raised both hands in defense.
“Alright, alright. I only came because I heard the explosion.”
“Then you’ve seen that everything is fine and that I’m alive.”
“For which I’m very grateful.”
The words came easy, and so did the little bow that he did right afterward, accompanied by his shit-eating grin.
Faust straightened, brushing a speck of dust from his sleeve.
He seemed ready to leave when his attention settled on Noelle once more, practically ogling her.
“Well, if you really intend to fight, do try not to lose. Only recognized succession candidates are entitled to a personal attendant, after all.”
“And I’ve been looking for a new one.”
With that last statement, Faust turned to leave, waving goodbye to his youngest brother without turning around.
“Good luck, Noct. Don’t overdo it. I’d like to see you at the ceremony.”
Noct waited until his footsteps faded before letting his shoulders sink against the backrest.
‘What a considerate asshole.’
“Young Master, about what he said with the attendants and such…” Noelle moved beside him.
“Is that true?”
Noct nodded.
“…Yes. If I lose my candidacy, the household may reassign you to someone else. And that bastard would likely try to pull some strings.”
He looked at the open grimoire.
Ambrosia had been reason enough to win.
And now, Faust had given him another reason to do so.
“We’d better get back to work.”