The Extra is a Genius!? - Chapter 423

Chapter 423: Chapter 423: The Truth – Part III
The silence stretched long after Noctis’s words faded. The faint hum of mana still lingered, a ghostly reminder that his time was short.

Elyra was the first to speak, her voice firm but unsteady. “You said Elarin was once good — that he saved the world. Then what happened? What made him… this?”

Noctis’s gaze dropped, the corners of his mouth tightening as if he’d been expecting the question. “He was good,” he said softly. “More than anyone else who’s ever lived. He was the first to touch mana, the first to understand it — the man who gave your world light when it still knew only darkness.”

Charlotte’s hands trembled slightly at her sides. “That’s what the scriptures say…” she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. “That he blessed the rivers, the stars, and the hearts of men.”

Noctis nodded once. “All true.”

Then his tone changed — lower, heavier, stripped of any trace of warmth.

“But he didn’t stop there,” Noctis said quietly. “He couldn’t. Somewhere along the way, something inside him broke.”

He looked past them, as if seeing another time entirely. “Elarin wasn’t trying to perfect the world — not at first. He wanted to save it. But the moment he touched the Source of Mana, the raw essence that created everything… it began to consume him. The more he used it, the less human he became.”

Charlotte’s voice trembled. “He… went mad?”

Noctis nodded slowly. “Mad, yes — but not in the way mortals go mad. His mind stayed sharp, his purpose clear. Only his heart vanished. He saw people as threads to rearrange, not lives to protect. He wanted to rewrite the world, remake it in his image.”

Elyra’s eyes widened. “So what did you do?”

Noctis’s gaze hardened, the light in his eyes dimming. “I tried to stop him. I thought I could. But I failed.”

The word lingered — heavy, final.

“I couldn’t kill him, not completely. Every time I struck him down, the mana in his body rebuilt him, over and over. So I did the only thing left.”

He raised his hand, the hologram flickering faintly blue again. “I sealed him — trapped his essence inside the crystal you saw. And then…”

His voice faltered for a moment. “…I created the loop. A cycle of rebirth, a repeating timeline — not to fix the world, but to find someone who could end him where I never could.”

Charlotte’s lips parted, disbelief flickering in her golden eyes. “You made all of this… to kill your brother?”

Noctis gave a faint, tired smile. “To save him — and everything he was meant to protect. I thought maybe one day, someone would appear strong enough to break the cycle. To end both of us, and let the world move forward at last.”

The air in the library felt colder suddenly, the soft hum of mana deepening around them.

Elyra’s whisper barely carried through the stillness. “And that someone… is Noel Well each Noel…”

Elyra was the first to find her voice. “Then… what do we do now?” she asked, her tone low but steady despite the weight of everything they’d just learned.

For a moment, Noctis didn’t reply. The faint blue glow around him flickered again, and when he finally spoke, his voice carried that strange calm that comes from exhaustion more than peace.

“You keep moving forward,” he said simply. “The path’s already been set in motion — you just have to keep walking it.”

Selene frowned. “That’s not much of an answer.”

Noctis smiled faintly, the expression shadowed by the distortion crawling along the edges of his form. “It’s all I can give. The rest isn’t mine to decide anymore.”

He turned toward Noel then, eyes softening in something close to pride. “You’ve got a little help, though. That system of yours — it’s been guiding you, hasn’t it?”

Noel blinked, surprised. “You mean… the missions?”

“Exactly.” Noctis gave a small nod. “Every task, every objective, every strange ‘reward’ you’ve received — all of that came from me. A way to steer you through the chaos, to make sure you grew fast enough to survive what’s coming.”

Elyra looked between them, incredulous. “Wait—so all those impossible things you pulled off in one year…”

“Weren’t impossible,” Noctis finished for her, his grin returning briefly. “Just accelerated. He has talent — plenty of it — but left alone, he wouldn’t have reached this point so soon. I only gave him the push he needed.”

Charlotte blinked, her brow furrowing. “Wait—what’s a system?”

Noctis turned to her, the faintest curve of amusement touching his lips. “Ah. Right. For you, it’d sound strange.”

He lifted a hand, trails of blue light spiraling lazily around his fingers. “Think of it as… a voice that gives direction. A construct I built — invisible, but connected to Noel. It tracks his progress, sets tasks, gives him strength when he needs it most.”

Charlotte tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly. “So… like divine guidance?”

“In a way, yes,” Noctis said. “Except this one doesn’t care about prayer or faith. It only reacts to action — to will. Every time he fights, grows, or makes a choice, it responds. Reward, punishment, warning… all part of its design.”

Elyra crossed her arms, glancing at Noel. “So that’s why you always seemed to know what to do.”

Noel exhaled quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. “More like it forced me to know,” he muttered.

Noctis gave a short laugh. “That’s one way to put it. The system doesn’t ask nicely — it pushes. Hard. But it’s why you’re all still alive.”

The air fell still again, the glow around Noctis flickering faintly as he lowered his hand. “It’s not a god, Charlotte,” he added softly. “It’s a tool. My last way of keeping the balance from collapsing completely.”

Charlotte’s gaze softened, though her voice stayed quiet. “So… you became our invisible god.”

Noctis smiled faintly. “No. Just the last fool trying to fix what my brother broke.”

The air around them began to shift — the faint blue hue that wrapped the library softening into a dull silver glow. The distortion in Noctis’s form deepened, flickering like static, bits of his projection breaking apart and reforming.

He looked down at his hand for a moment, flexing his fingers as if testing whether he still existed. A quiet laugh escaped him — not bitter, not amused, but weary. “Guess that’s it,” he murmured. “The end of the timer.”

Charlotte’s hand twitched slightly at her side. “You’re… fading.”

“Yeah.” His voice was calm, almost peaceful now. “Every time I appear, it burns away what little energy’s left tethered to this loop. I thought I’d be gone ages ago.” His eyes rose to meet Noel’s. “But I wanted to see this one through.”

Noel stepped forward, his throat tight. “You’re not coming back, are you?”

Noctis smiled faintly, the kind of smile one gives before walking away from something they’ve carried too long. “Not in this form. Maybe as a whisper in the system, maybe not even that. This is all I’ve got left.”

He turned his gaze toward the girls — toward Charlotte, Elyra, Elena, Selene — and for the first time, there was something deeply human in his expression. “You’re good for him,” he said softly. “Each of you. You don’t realize how much you’ve changed his story already.”

Elyra blinked, taken aback. “His story?”

Noctis gave a small nod. “Every version of Noel before this one ended in the same way — broken, alone, or lost. He never made it this far. Not once.” His gaze shifted to Noel again, faint pride glinting behind the exhaustion. “You’re the first who managed to change the rhythm. You’re the first to make me believe it might end.”

Noel swallowed hard. “And if it doesn’t?”

“Then another will take your place.” The words came quietly — not cruel, not cold, just factual. “And they’ll try again, until someone finishes it. That’s what the loop does.”

Selene’s voice was low, almost trembling. “And you’ll watch it all happen again?”

Noctis’s answer came after a pause. “Yes… But I hope I don’t have to.”

The silence that followed was heavy — reverent, almost.

Elena’s amber eyes softened. “It sounds lonely,” she whispered.

Noctis gave a small, sad smile. “It is.” His tone gentled. “But loneliness stopped being the worst part a long time ago. Watching people forget — that’s what hurts. Seeing them live and die without remembering what they fought for.”

He raised his hand once more, and a faint blue spark gathered in his palm — small, flickering like a dying flame. “So I’ll leave this one to you, Noel. You’ve done more in a year than anyone before you. If anyone can end it, it’s you.”

Noel’s fingers clenched unconsciously at his sides. “I’ll try,” he said quietly. “I don’t know how yet, but I’ll end it.”

“I know you will.” Noctis’s form began to break apart now, dissolving into ribbons of light that drifted upward like stardust. “That’s why I chose you.”

Charlotte’s voice trembled. “Wait—there’s still so much we don’t understand!”

Noctis shook his head slowly. “You’ll find your answers. Just… don’t lose yourselves trying to reach them.”

The light dimmed again, his features starting to blur. He looked at them all one last time — at the confusion, the fear, the unspoken strength on their faces — and something in his expression softened further.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “For giving him something to fight for.”

Then his eyes locked on Noel one final time, a small grin flickering through the fading light.

“I hope this is the last loop,” he said. “Good luck, Noel.”

The words echoed even after he was gone.

And then, just like that, the light vanished.

The library fell silent again — no hum of mana, no glow, no trace of the figure who had stood before them. Only the faint warmth of the air where he’d been, already fading into nothing.

Noel stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty space. His hands trembled slightly before he clenched them into fists.

‘The last loop, huh?’ he thought.

The girls said nothing — their eyes fixed on the same spot, each of them lost in the enormity of what they’d just heard.

Somewhere deep in the quiet, Noir’s voice echoed softly in his mind.

‘You’re crying, Dad.’

Noel exhaled, voice barely a whisper. “…Maybe.”