[Lifespan Remaining: 2 days, 16 hours, 58 minutes.]
“The Spiral Pool of Castalia, that’s what I want.”
An ancient underground site said to have existed since the founding of Arcadia.
It was rumored that the first Patriarch, the only Sage in existence, couldn’t bear his children dying from their excessive talent.
So he created a pool that cleanses the mana channels as well as reinforcing their bodies, allowing them to withstand the pressure of advancing their class.
With the Mage class being the most difficult to advance as well as the Arcadias being known to produce the strongest Mages in existence, this pool was a resource everyone wanted.
However, it came with a caveat.
The porous mineral beds slowly absorb mana from the surroundings, before purifying it and allowing it to seep into the water.
This process takes to 2-3 years to happen, which meant apt planning must be considered.
Usually, this privilege is given to the mainline heirs, whenever they were ready.
All the mainline Arcadias within the current generation have already used it, all except one.
For the reasons of “not being able to endure the pool’s strength”, Noct de Arcadia’s slot kept becoming postponed.
But now he was here to claim it.
Instead of the answer that he expected from the First Lady, Rosse, who had been silent the entire time, suddenly erupted.
“But you said it was for m—?”
“Shut up!”
Out of nowhere, his mother suddenly slapped him across the face, which stunned almost everyone inside the room.
‘Now this is getting interesting.’
Noct looked back and forth at what was happening, the picture slowly building in his head.
The two parties were in cahoots with each other, and the First Lady probably intended to give his slot to Rosse so he would be guaranteed to beat Noct.
Rosse held his red cheek with a hand, looking at his mother with widened eyes.
Obviously, he was the type of person to have never been hit by his mother before.
Someone, who just had to exist and the world would favor him.
His mother bowed quickly, dragging both Rosse and herself out of their seat and headed for the entrance.
Before crossing the threshold, she bowed quickly.
“Have a good meal, Your Highness.”
And just like that, they both left.
“How do you know that it’s ready?” The First Lady started after the tension died down a bit.
“Never mind. Noct, consider it carefully, do you really know the risks that it poses? You really could die in there.”
Well, he understood why everyone thought so.
After all, he looked like a faint sneeze away from falling over and dying on the spot.
However, he had seen someone enter the Spiral Pool in a condition that wasn’t much better.
The game’s protagonist—Robin.
At that point, he had helped resolve a troublesome incident for the Arcadias.
And in return, he had been offered a chance to enter the pool.
Or well, it would be more accurate to say that the pool saved his life.
Noct still remembered the scene.
The protagonist was covered in bandages, with one arm hanging uselessly by his side and barely enough strength to remain standing.
Someone had to practically carry him down to the water.
Yet when he emerged, Robin was able to walk on his own, and his class had advanced.
‘If he could survive it like that…’
‘Then I can, too.’
He didn’t need the pool to remove his curse, he just needed to stop his body from falling apart, to give him a real shot at defeating Rosse on equal terms.
“The previous opening went to Amelia, didn’t it? And before that, Faust had his turn.”
“That was before your condition deteriorated,” Vivienne replied.
“The arrangement was made when we still believed you might be able to endure it.”
“Was my turn postponed, or was it taken away?”
Noct waited for an answer, keeping his hands underneath the table so they wouldn’t see the trembling.
And after a while, Vivienne spoke once more.
“Noct, this isn’t a matter of someone taking something from you.”
‘Rosse seemed to think otherwise.’
He kept that thought to himself.
“We cannot allow you to enter simply because you feel entitled to it,” she continued.
“The mana concentration alone could overwhelm your body.”
“Are you the one that gets to decide that?” he pushed forward.
“Or would you like to disgrace our tradition?”
Faust let out an irritated breath instead, not taking the comment lightly.
“Are you even listening? She’s telling you it could kill you.”
“I’m already dying anyways, aren’t I?”
The room suddenly got quiet.
Noelle accidentally let out a small whimper, but covered it up quickly.
Noct raised his eyes toward Vivienne, who was now staring at him.
“On my birthday. In three days. That’s what the ‘prophecy’ said, didn’t it? That Noct de Arcadia would perish on his eighteenth birthday.”
“Noct…” the First Lady began.
“You know that the pool cannot cure every affliction. If a Holy Blessing hadn’t cured your curse, how would it have any effects?”
He couldn’t exactly tell her his full plan, and the conversation was going on for long enough.
If there was one thing he could convince her with, it was her obsession of becoming the ‘only’ wife of the Duke.
So Noct decided to go for her weak spot.
“If I die, at least everyone here will know you tried to stop me.”
Her eyes suddenly lit up as she processed the thought.
Noct knew that she gave no shit about his life, she just wanted to play the role of his ‘mother’.
If he died, it would be better for her, as there was no one left to represent the Second Lady.
She had warned him in front of everyone.
He had acknowledged the danger and insisted anyway.
If something happened, nobody at this table could reasonably claim she had sent him there against his will.
And if she refused now, she would have to explain why Rosse’s advancement mattered more than allowing her dying stepson one last attempt.
Surprisingly, it was Amelia who voiced her opinion first.
“He is next. That was the arrangement, wasn’t it?”
“It was.”
Faust began standing up, hands hanging in the air uselessly.
“M—mother, perhaps we should reconsider. I mean, it’s a very important resource and…”
“Noct has made his wishes clear.”
The First Lady took a sip of her wine before continuing on.
“It’ll happen tomorrow morning. You cannot miss the window and must be prepared to enter at the allotted time.”
“It will be done.”
Noct bowed softly before climbing back into his wheelchair.
With a gesture, Noelle quickly took the handles and began pushing him back toward the entrance.
“Thank you, My Lady,” he said one last time, before the doors closed behind them, putting this chaotic dinner party to rest.
At once, Faust turned to his mother with a puzzled look.
“Mother, why the hell did you allow Noct to enter. You know what the plans are—”
“When have I raised such a stupid child?”
“…”
Vivienne sighed, emptying the rest of the wine bottle into her cup before drinking it all at once.
“If I deny him, how do you expect to tell that to your Father?”
“I’m this close to becoming the Duchess,” the First Lady pinched her fingers together.
“And I won’t have either you, Rosse, or whoever the hell else ruin it for me!”
Faust lowered his hands, wisely deciding against another argument.
Vivenne set her empty glass down before turning toward her daughter.
“And that applies to you as well, Amelia.”
Amelia had remained quiet throughout their exchange.
At the mention of her name, she finally lifted her eyes.
“I don’t want another complaint arriving from Altaire,” Vivienne continued.
“The two of you will settle whatever this quarrel is before your father returns.”
Faust glanced across the table with a smirk on his face.
“It’s hardly a quarrel, Mother. It’ll be decided on Noct’s birthday.”
KRRRRRRK—!
The sound of Amelia’s chair scraping against the floor caught both of them off-guard.
Amelia stood up a second later.
She offered no answer, nor did she look toward her brother.
After smoothing the front of her dress, she simply turned toward the entrance.
“Have a good night, Mother. I’ll be leaving for Altaire soon.”
Beside her, Faust picked up his glass and took another sip, as he watched her go.
“See? Nothing to worry about.”
“Enough.”
Faust then shrugged, going back to his meal.
Across from them, Amelia’s plate remained almost untouched, so was Noct’s.
Vivienne simply sighed, reaching for her wine bottle, which she found was empty.
And before long, that same bottle had found itself on the ground, in the form of dozens of broken pieces.
The First Lady muttered under her breath while staring at the remaining shards.
“Noct de Arcadia—”
“…I know how to deal with someone like you.”