The vault’s air still slled of mana and cold stone when the blue screen burned to life before Noel’s eyes.
[New Quest: Save Nicolas Von Aldros’s Life.]
[Ti limit: 14 minutes, 49 seconds.]
The digits ticked down rcilessly. 14:48. 14:47.
Noel’s expression hardened, confusion cutting through his chest. Nicolas von Aldros? Save his life? It made no sense. Nicolas was one of the most powerful n alive—who could possibly threaten him here, in Tharvaldur, right after the tournant ended?
’What’s happening? Why Nicolas? Who could touch him?’
Only one possibility clawed its way into Noel’s mind: the First Pillar. That strange, unpredictable figure who had intervened with Torwan days ago and the one pillar that was still in Tharvaldur. If anyone could threaten Nicolas, it was him.
His erald eyes fixed on the glowing screen, watching as the seconds bled away. The urgency twisted in his gut. This wasn’t like other quests. No month. No week. Fifteen minutes.
Balthor’s voice rumbled beside him. "What’s wrong, lad? Not pleased with what you picked?"
Noel didn’t answer. He wasn’t even looking at the vault anymore. His right hand went to his belt, fingers closing around the dinsional pouch. He knew what he needed. The sigil.
His pulse hamred against his ears as the tir kept falling.
14:32. 14:31.
The system’s cruel countdown was already dragging him forward.
He pulled the small carved stone free, a faint glow shimring across its runes. The item Nicolas himself had handed him weeks ago.
The screen flickered again.
[Item Identified]
Na: Recall Sigil
Rank: Rare
Type: Utility
Description: Allows ergency signaling to a marked individual. Linked to: Nicolas von Aldros.
Noel’s jaw tightened. He forced mana into the sigil, every thought narrowed into a single desperate plea.
’Please. Work.’
The sigil flared violently in Noel’s palm, runes burning with a sharp crimson glow. For a heartbeat, it seed to work—the air vibrated with a low hum, shelves rattling from the surge of mana.
But no one appeared.
The light sputtered, flickered once more, and died out completely. The carved stone turned cold and lifeless in his grip.
Noel’s breath caught. "Shit."
The system’s tir pulsed in the corner of his vision, rciless in its clarity.
[Ti limit: 14 minutes, 12 seconds.]
Every second felt like a hamr strike.
He shoved the inert sigil back into his pouch and turned sharply toward Balthor, his voice cutting the chamber like steel. "Nicolas is in danger. He’ll be dead in less than fifteen minutes if we don’t move."
Balthor stopped mid-step, staring at him. At first, his frown was almost playful, as though Noel had told the most ridiculous joke of the day. "That’s a hell of a claim, lad. Why would you—"
He froze. Noel’s erald eyes locked on his, trembling with urgency, yet burning with absolute determination. No trace of humor. No deception.
The grin faded from Balthor’s face.
Noel pressed forward, his tone sharper. "This isn’t a bluff. I don’t have ti to explain. Nicolas is going to die."
Noriel shifted uneasily, his hand tightening on the scroll. Selene, silent until now, tilted her head slightly, her cold cyan gaze fixed on Noel, reading him with the sa detached precision she carried into every fight.
The weight of the words dragged down the vault, pressing on all of them.
Balthor’s jaw set. His tone lost all levity. "Fine. I’ll mobilize soldiers. But if we’re counting minutes—"
The tir pulsed again in Noel’s sight.
[Ti limit: 13 minutes, 55 seconds.]
The countdown had only just begun.
Balthor’s eyes narrowed, his usual grin nowhere to be found. He raised a hand, already signaling Noriel. "Mobilize the guard. Now."
Noriel didn’t hesitate. He tucked the scroll under his arm and sprinted out of the vault, boots hamring against stone.
Noel’s chest tightened as the blue window flickered again.
[Ti limit: 13 minutes, 42 seconds.]
Every second bled away like sand in an hourglass.
Balthor turned back. "Where?"
Noel forced himself to focus. "The arena. The tournant ended minutes ago—he’ll still be there. Most likely in the director’s office."
Balthor grunted. "Then go. You’re faster on your own. I’ll follow with soldiers."
Noel nodded once, already pivoting toward the exit. But before he could move, a voice cut through the chamber.
"I’m coming too."
Selene stood just behind them, her wand at her side, her expression calm but her eyes unyielding. She had been silent through the entire exchange, but now her gaze fixed on Noel.
He paused, breath ragged, urgency painted across his face. "This isn’t—"
She stepped closer, interrupting. "I’ve seen that look before. The sa when you helped face my mother. I can help, he is the Headmaster of my academy too."
Her words carried no warmth, only cold certainty.
Noel held her gaze for a beat, then gave a sharp nod. "Fine."
Together, they broke into a run, boots striking against the stone floors of the fortress as the echo of orders barked by Balthor followed behind them.
The tir pulsed once more in Noel’s vision.
[Ti limit: 13 minutes, 28 seconds.]
Every heartbeat was another step closer to disaster.
Noel and Selene burst from the castle gates into the streets below. The mountain city still roared with noise—thousands of dwarves, humans, elves, and demons spilling from the arena after the grand final. The victory chants had shifted into a chaotic tide of voices, boots, and banners.
The system’s cold reminder pulsed again before Noel’s eyes.
[Ti limit: 13 minutes, 02 seconds.]
He clenched his jaw and pushed forward. The crowd was dense, bodies shoulder to shoulder, everyone eager to leave or celebrate. It was like trying to sprint through a storm of stone and flesh.
Selene kept pace effortlessly, her short blue hair whipping in the dim light of the mana-crystals. She didn’t speak, but her presence was sharp beside him, matching his urgency step for step.
A wave of cheers swelled as they passed one of the outer streets, people recognizing Noel, shouting his na as if this were still part of the celebration. He ignored them, shoving through with his shoulder, every second screaming in his head.
The arena lood ahead, its colossal stone arches glowing faintly with runes. The gates were still open, and streams of spectators poured out like a flood, their noise echoing through the cavern. To Noel, it was an obstacle.
"Move!" he barked, forcing his way through, Selene gliding behind him like a shadow cutting through ice.
The announcer’s booming voice from earlier still seed to echo in his skull, but now the only sound that mattered was the ticking in his vision.
[Ti limit: 12 minutes, 48 seconds.]
They hadn’t even reached the office yet.
Noel’s lungs burned. This was no month-long quest, no carefully planned sche. For the first ti, the system had dropped him into a race against the clock.
And if he failed—Nicolas von Aldros would die.
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