The Extra is a Genius!?-Chapter 127: Towards Estermont

The snow had not stopped falling. A thin white layer coated every stone step of the courtyard stairs, muffling even the faintest sound.

Selene sat alone on the steps, her knees drawn up to her chest, head bowed. Her hood was pulled low, covering most of her face. Noel’s cloak still rested on her shoulders, wrapped tightly around her small frame.

Noel spotted her from a distance as he crossed the courtyard. He hesitated for a moment, watching her in silence. Then, without a word, he approached.

Carefully, he sat down beside her on the cold stone, leaving a bit of space between them.

"How are you feeling?"

There was a pause. Then, softly, Selene answered.

"Fine. I finally said everything I had been keeping inside... Thank you." freewёbnoνel-com

Noel glanced at her.

"For what?"

Selene shifted slightly beneath the cloak.

"I think... it was because you took me with you. After what we went through... I realized some things. You never asked anything of me. You never judged me. Not when I cried, not when I ate too much, not when I didn’t talk much... You always listened to me when I talked."

Noel exhaled softly.

"That’s what any normal person should do. If someone doesn’t treat you that way, they don’t deserve you."

He reached into his dimensional pouch.

"Before I forget—here."

Carefully, he pulled out the frozen wand and held it out to her.

Selene blinked, surprised. She took it gently in both hands.

"What is this?"

"I found it after we killed the Ice Wyvern. Your mother placed it there. She said it is the last thing your father left behind... and it is meant for you."

Selene was silent for a long moment, staring at the wand. Cold mana pulsed softly from its core.

"I see..."

Noel watched her for a second, then spoke again, voice low.

"I know you don’t want to see your mother now. Maybe you won’t ever want to. And that’s fair. But... if you ever find the strength, maybe... listen to her once."

Selene did not respond.

The snow continued to fall between them, soft and quiet.

Noel stood slowly, brushing the snow from his clothes.

"I have to go. The carriage your mother prepared is probably ready by now. I need to head to Estermont as soon as possible."

He glanced down at her.

"What about you? What will you do now?"

"I suppose... I’ll go back to the academy."

Noel gave a faint nod.

"Alright then. We’ll see each other in a few months."

He started to turn, then paused and looked back at her with a small smile.

"And don’t worry about the cloak. In Estermont it’s not that cold."

Selene blinked. Only then did she seem to register the cloak still wrapped around her shoulders.

For a moment, she said nothing.

Then, slowly, she lowered her head deeper into the fabric, hiding her face.

Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving her sitting quietly on the snow-covered stairs, the cloak still tightly wrapped around her.

The wind had grown stronger by the time Noel reached the gates.

Snowflakes whipped through the air in swirling gusts, stinging cold against exposed skin. He pulled his coat tighter around himself as he crossed the last stretch of courtyard.

Two tall black horses stood waiting near the stone arch, steam rising from their bodies as they pawed at the snow-covered ground. Their coats gleamed with strength and discipline, their heads high and alert.

The carriage hitched behind them was built for long travel—a reinforced frame of blackened oak lined with steel bands, its wheels wrapped to handle icy roads. Elegant but practical.

A seasoned driver sat atop the front bench, wrapped in a heavy cloak. His gray beard was dusted with frost. He spotted Noel’s approach at once and tipped his head.

"All set, sir?" the man asked.

Noel stopped beside the carriage, glancing up.

"Yeah," he answered simply. "We can leave now."

The driver nodded and gave the reins a light snap, steadying the restless horses.

"We’ll take the southern pass," he added. "If luck holds and the snows stay light, we’ll reach Estermont in three days—no more."

Noel placed one hand on the cold handle of the carriage door, exhaled, and climbed inside.

The interior was plain but comfortable. Padded dark velvet seats lined each side, and a faintly glowing heating orb had been secured at the ceiling’s center, giving off a steady warmth that pushed back the bite of the wind.

Noel settled into the seat, stretching his legs slightly. His limbs still ached from the last few days—from the climb, the fight, the tension with Vaelora.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

’Three days,’ he thought. ’If nothing slows us down.’

His jaw tightened.

Outside, the driver cracked the reins again. The horses moved into a smooth, powerful stride, hooves crunching over the frost-layered road.

The carriage rolled through the outer gate and onto the snow-packed trail. Behind them, the towering silhouette of the Iskandar mountains slowly faded into the swirling white mist.

Noel glanced once more through the small window beside him.

’Time to move.’

The carriage picked up speed, wheels slicing cleanly through the snow, as the road ahead stretched long and unforgiving toward Estermont.

The days blurred together.

The carriage never stopped for long—only brief rests for the horses and quick meals on the road. Noel slept little, always half-aware of the time slipping through his fingers.

They crossed long stretches of forest and countryside, leaving the cold mountains far behind. The snow gave way to clearer skies and dry, paved roads. The air gradually grew milder.

By the third day, the landscape had changed entirely.

Tall stone bridges spanned winding rivers, merchant caravans moved along wide, well-maintained roads lined with crimson banners.

Ahead, Estermont rose like a jewel of wealth and power.

Noel sat upright, pulse quickening. His eyes flicked toward the window as the first towers came into view—polished red stone, grand arches, banners of deep dark red trimmed with gold fluttering along every major street.

Estermont had no need for snow to chill the heart—it radiated strength through wealth alone.

Then—

Ding!

A bright system prompt flashed before his eyes.

[New Mission: Treat the disease and save Elyra’s mother. Time remaining: 12 hours.]

Noel’s throat tightened.

’Shit, there is almost no time...’

He clenched his fists for a moment, then forced himself to stay calm.

The carriage rumbled through the last stretch of the road, wheels rolling smoothly over immaculate stone streets—no ice, no mud, just perfect craftsmanship. Everywhere Noel looked, signs of wealth and influence were impossible to miss.

As they passed through the final inner gate, Noel leaned slightly toward the window.

There—standing near the arrival point—two figures waited.

The first—tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a dark red formal jacket trimmed with golden lines of authority. His black hair was streaked with gray at the temples, and his short beard was trimmed to perfection.

Lord Caeron.

Beside him stood Elyra—wearing comfortable black and red clothing, posture poised but tense. The deep red of her family’s house was present even in her casual garments.

Their silhouettes stood still beneath the towering crimson walls of Estermont, eyes fixed on the approaching carriage.

Noel’s heartbeat quickened again.

’Almost there. No time to waste.’

The carriage slowed.

Noel’s gaze remained locked on the two waiting figures as the wheels finally ground to a halt.

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