Noel sat quietly on the edge of his bed, one hand absentmindedly stroking Noir's soft fur, the other holding a folded sheet of parchment. The room was dim, lit only by a pair of soft blue mana crystals embedded in the stone walls — the kind of lighting that gave no clue whether it was night or day outside. Deep inside the mountain, time felt like a suggestion.

He unfolded the sheet, scanning its contents.

His eyes narrowed.

"A dwarf girl… and she's marked to win," he muttered under his breath.

'Shit, this isn't good. If they've already decided the outcome, it means she'll be under the enhancer's effect…' He exhaled through his nose. 'And if I win, she might end up like the Bone Crusher kid. Crushed and shattered.' He gritted his teeth.

Noir tilted her head up toward him, those violet-tinged eyes reflecting the light. She could tell — Noel thinking too much rarely meant anything good.

"I'm alright," he said gently, glancing down at her with a faint smile. "Actually, we're in a better position than last time, Noir. This time, I'm not doing it alone. I've got help from the very top — Headmaster Nicolas himself."

Noir blinked slowly, tail twitching once.

"But still…" he looked back at the parchment. "I'll need Charlotte's help. If that girl's under some kind of spell layered on top of the enhancer… maybe Charlotte could cleanse her with a Blessing."

He paused, fingers tightening slightly.

"…Even if I hate making her use those."

Noel leaned back slowly onto the bed, resting the paper on his chest. His gaze fixed on the ceiling — rough stone, reinforced with mana channels that glowed faintly in lines. No windows. No stars.

'I'll talk to Nicolas before the match. Tell him everything we learned last night. About the enhancer. The factory. Torwan's involvement. We're running out of time, but… we've got more info and help now.'

He exhaled.

The door clicked.

Noel turned his head slightly — the handle shifted, and the door opened slowly.

And there she was.

Elyra.

Her long black hair, usually braided with noble precision, was now loose, cascading softly over her shoulders. Her gray eyes met his with quiet intensity. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her, locking it — then slipping the key into her pocket.

She wore a one-piece nightgown of deep crimson silk, the color of her house — and her favorite.

Noel sat up slowly. "…Good evening."

Elyra stood still for a moment, eyes tracing the room before settling back on Noel. Her expression was unreadable. Calm, poised — but with something simmering beneath the surface.

She stepped forward without hesitation and sat beside him on the bed. The faint scent of cherry blossoms and polished leather drifted off her hair as it settled over her shoulders.

Noel tilted his head slightly. "Is something wrong?"

Elyra folded her hands over her lap. "That's what I came to ask you, Noel Thorne. You've been… distant lately. We know you'd ask for help if you needed it, but I think I speak for Elena and Charlotte too — we want to be informed. Especially me."

Noel leaned back a little, glancing away. "I haven't been hiding anything dangerous from you. Really… I'm fine."

"Are you?" Elyra's tone sharpened. "And what about that drunk dwarf you keep spending time with? Balthor, wasn't it? Elena mentioned the name."

'Well I guess it's time since I will need them from now on.'

He sighed. "He's not just a drunk. He's my ally — and he lost his brother. Turns out, that brother is still alive. And he's here in Tharvaldur. In fact, he's the headmaster of the Arcane Institute. Also…" Noel paused, his voice lowering, "he's part of the organization that tried to kill Charlotte during the Holy Capital incident."

Elyra's breath caught — barely — but she said nothing.

"We can't move against him directly," Noel continued. "He's controlling the students. Somehow. And the king of this nation is involved too. That's why Balthor and I have been approaching him as merchants… using your name. The Estermont name. We're buying time."

Still, Elyra said nothing. Her gaze didn't waver.

"…You're not going to say anything?"

She smiled softly. "What should I say? Good luck, maybe? Or 'thanks for using my family's influence in a secret plot against a puppet king'?"

Noel winced. "…Yeah."

A long silence stretched between them.

Noel looked at her — and in that moment, the weight of everything he couldn't say settled heavily on his chest. He loved Elyra. He knew that. But he also knew there were truths he could never tell her. Not about the system. Not about the reincarnation. Not about how he already knew the shape of this world because he'd read it in another.

He reached out, brushing his fingers gently along her neck — a silent question.

Elyra didn't move away.

Noel leaned closer, his fingers tracing the line of Elyra's neck before resting against her cheek. Their eyes met — grey and green — and for a moment neither spoke. The world outside their room faded into silence, buried under stone and time.

He kissed her gently.

It was soft at first — a cautious brush of lips, almost hesitant. Elyra responded with a slow tilt of her head, closing the gap between them more fully. Her hands came up to rest on his shoulders, trembling just slightly.

Noel deepened the kiss, his hand now sliding behind her back, pulling her closer. The warmth of her body pressed against his, and she let out a faint breath when he whispered her name against her lips.

"Elyra…"

She kissed him again, slower this time — deliberate. Her fingers found the hem of his shirt and paused there.

Noel caught her gaze and nodded.

They undressed each other gradually. One layer at a time. Not hurried. Not fumbling. Just learning. Elyra's red-toned sleepwear slid from her shoulders, revealing more skin than Noel had seen before — and though his heartbeat quickened, he didn't rush. His own shirt joined hers on the floor, and when she touched the scar near his collarbone, he didn't flinch.

There were no grand declarations. Just the rustle of fabric and the soft sound of breathing shared between two young souls finding comfort in one another.

As they lay down together beneath the covers, the light cast gentle shadows on the stone walls. Noel moved carefully, watching her expression at every step. And Elyra — cheeks flushed. It was the first time Noel saw Elyra so flushed, eyes never leaving his — whispered:

"I love you."

Noel leaned in, brushing her lips with his own, not once, but again and again—kisses that deepened slowly, melting into each other like waves smoothing the shore. His hand slid down her back, following the curve of her body as he explored her gently.

He kissed along her collarbone, then lower, his lips trailing along the line of her skin. She closed her eyes, exhaling softly as he moved downward stopping just before reaching her pussy.

Elyra's hand reached for his, intertwining their fingers in silence, her breathing uneven, her heart racing. Noel looked up at her once more, as if asking wordlessly for permission. She gave the faintest nod, a smile blooming on her lips—nervous, but full of trust.

They shared no more words, only the sound of their breaths and the soft rustle of sheets. For both of them, it was the first time—but in that moment, there was no fear. Only warmth. Only closeness.

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