CHAPTER 300: CHAPTER 300: NEW BURDEN

The chamber was dim, lit only by the steady glow of mana lamps fixed into the carved stone walls. Their faint bluish light painted long shadows across the room, giving the air a heavy, muted stillness. Nicolas stirred, his eyelids heavy as he forced them open.

His body felt wrong. Heavy. Weak. The familiar hum of mana that had always coursed through his veins was gone—an emptiness spreading in its place. He tried to draw on his core out of instinct, but there was nothing. Not even a spark.

His breathing hitched. Slowly, he raised his hand. Wrinkled skin met his eyes—lines deeper than he remembered, the bones thinner, frailer. He reached for his face with trembling fingers, finding sagging skin and hollows he had not known before.

The polished steel mirror propped against the wall confirmed what he already felt. No longer the sharp, middle-aged figure who stood as the Imperial Academy’s unshakable headmaster—what stared back at him was a man in his eighties. The years his mana had kept at bay had rushed upon him overnight.

A bitter thought cut through his chest. ’So... this is what it feels like... stripped bare.’

He turned his gaze slowly. Noel was there, slumped in a chair beside the bed, Revenant Fang leaning against the wall within reach. His head had tilted to the side, lips parted slightly, sleep dragging at his exhausted body.

Nicolas let out a faint sigh. The boy looked worn, shadows beneath his eyes even in rest. He had stayed all night, no doubt keeping vigil.

The Archmage—no, the old man he had become—closed his eyes briefly, the truth setting in with an ache deeper than any wound. His era had ended here, in this room. And beside him sat the one who would have to carry what came next.

Nicolas shifted, trying to push himself upright against the headboard. The effort made his arms tremble, his breath uneven. The movement stirred Noel awake. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and straightened in the chair.

"You’re awake," Noel said quietly, voice hoarse from exhaustion.

Nicolas gave a faint nod, but his eyes dropped to his own chest. He pressed a hand against the bandages, where once a core of mana had pulsed like a second heart. Now there was only silence.

"I can’t feel it," Nicolas muttered, his voice hollow. "My core... it’s gone."

Noel lowered his head, guilt twisting his features. "I know."

Nicolas forced his gaze toward the steel mirror again, staring at the reflection of an aged man. His jaw clenched, teeth grinding audibly. "From being a prodigy, an Archmage... to this." His wrinkled hand curled into a fist on the blanket. "Just a frail old man."

"I’m sorry," Noel whispered, his voice breaking. "If I had been stronger, maybe—"

"Stop." Nicolas’s tone was sharp, cutting through the weight in the room. His eyes, though dulled by age, still carried their old fire. "None of this is your fault. Do you hear me?"

Noel looked at him, startled, but Nicolas continued, his voice calmer now. "You’ve done more than anyone could have asked. You fought when others would have run. You stood when even I fell."

He leaned back, exhaustion dragging at his shoulders. For a moment, silence returned, but then his lips curled faintly. "Thank you, Noel... for everything you’ve done until now."

Noel swallowed hard, unable to respond. His fists clenched in his lap, the guilt still pressing heavily despite Nicolas’s words.

Nicolas drew a slow breath, closing his eyes for a moment as if gathering strength. When he opened them again, his gaze fixed firmly on Noel.

"It won’t be easy from here," he said, his voice quieter but steady. "I can’t fight by your side anymore. That much is clear." His wrinkled fingers tapped the bed lightly, as though accepting the truth even as it pained him. "But you are not alone, Noel."

Noel frowned, his jaw tightening. "Alone is all I’ve ever been."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Nicolas’s lips. "That’s not true. You just refuse to see it."

Noel’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

"You have Marcus," Nicolas continued. "That boy may joke too much, but his loyalty is unshakable. You have the girls who follow you, who trust you more than you realize. Elyra, Elena, Charlotte—they’ve already chosen to stand by you."

Noel shifted uncomfortably at the mention of their names.

"And Balthor," Nicolas went on, his voice gaining a hint of strength. "An entire kingdom at your back. He may grumble, but make no mistake—he would march his army for you."

Noel glanced down, his fists clenching tighter.

"And Noir," Nicolas added, almost as an afterthought. "Don’t forget her. She’s still with you, in her own way."

Noel’s throat tightened at the name, the weight of Noir’s absence cutting deeper than he could admit.

Nicolas’s expression softened. "In time, you’ll find more allies. This world... it needs you to keep moving forward. So please, Noel..." His eyes gleamed faintly, the fire of the Archmage still there despite his broken state. "For the sake of this world, keep going."

Noel stared at him in silence, the words striking deeper than he wanted to admit.

The silence stretched between them. Nicolas leaned back against the pillows, his breathing steady but shallow, while Noel stared down at his hands. The words Nicolas had spoken still echoed in his chest, but the weight of them was almost too much to carry.

Without a word, Noel reached into his dimensional pouch. A faint glimmer of mana escaped as he pulled out a small, rune-etched stone shaped like a sigil. The system flickered across his vision.

[Item Identified]

Name: Recall Sigil

Rank: Rare

Type: Utility

Description: Allows emergency signaling to a marked individual. Linked to: Noel Thorne.

Noel turned the sigil over once in his palm, then held it out to Nicolas.

The Archmage’s brows furrowed. "That’s what I gave you. Why are you—"

"Because now it’s more useful to you," Noel interrupted, pressing the item into his hand. "I’ve linked it to me. You can call me directly if anything happens."

Nicolas blinked, surprised. "But you don’t have teleportation magic."

Noel shook his head. "No. But I can move through shadows. If you use it, I’ll come. No matter where you are." His voice was firm, leaving no room for doubt.

Nicolas stared at the sigil in his wrinkled hand, the faint glow reflecting in his tired eyes. Slowly, his expression softened. "...You’ve grown far too fast, Noel. Faster than anyone should."

Noel didn’t answer. He simply sat back in the chair, his face unreadable, though his emerald eyes burned with quiet resolve.

The two remained in silence—the fallen Archmage clutching the sigil, and the young man who had taken on the burden of tomorrow.