The Extra is a Genius!?-Chapter 128: A Promise Fulfilled

Noel stepped down from the carriage.

Ahead, standing beneath the towering crimson arch, were Elyra and Lord Caeron, waiting.

Their expressions said everything—and none of it was good.

Noel already knew why.

The system’s cold message still echoed in his mind.

[New Mission: Treat the disease and save Elyra’s mother.]

[Time remaining: 12 hours.]

And with it, another line had followed:

Condition critical. Estimated life expectancy: 12 hours.

Elyra was the first to speak, her voice tense with worry.

"Noel, my mother is getting worse. For the past few hours... she’s been unstable."

Noel gave them both a brief nod in greeting but didn’t slow down.

Without waiting for further words, he moved straight toward the estate’s inner halls.

"Have you prepared the materials?" he asked sharply.

Lord Caeron answered at once, matching Noel’s pace.

"Yes. Both items are ready in the room. The Royal Bee Honey and Gloomthorn Pollen, exactly as you requested."

"Good," Noel said. "Then let’s move—quickly."

He stepped aside, allowing Lord Caeron to take the lead.

The older man’s stride was swift, purposeful. Noel followed right behind him, Elyra close on his heels.

They hurried through the wide, polished corridors of the Estermont mansion, the deep red banners of the house seeming to blur past them. Servants parted silently as they passed, no one daring to interrupt.

At last, they reached the large double doors of the master bedroom.

Lord Caeron pushed them open without hesitation.

The three entered.

There—lying upon a grand bed of silk and velvet—

Lady Elissabeth von Estermont.

She lay still as marble.

Her face, though pale with illness, carried the unmistakable elegance of her daughter—high cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and long black hair that spilled like ink across the pillows. Even in unconsciousness, her features remained composed.

Her eyes were closed—but Noel already knew what color they would be.

Gray. The same piercing shade as Elyra’s.

But what caught his attention most was the state of her body.

Sweat soaked her skin, glistening faintly beneath the dim light. Her breathing was shallow—labored.

Worse still—angry red marks spread across her neck, winding like creeping vines down her arms and legs. The infection was advancing rapidly.

Noel’s jaw tightened.

There was no time to waste.

Noel reached into his dimensional pouch and pulled out a simple mortar and pestle—an old, worn tool. It was the same one he had bought the day he purchased the sleep grenades from Balthor.

A basic mortar. Primitive. Not a trace of mana within it.

He carried it to the desk that stood near the wall of the bedroom, where the two ingredients were already waiting.

Elyra stood close behind him, voice tense.

"I hope whatever you are about to do works, Noel."

Noel didn’t answer. Not because he didn’t want to—but because right now, his focus was absolute.

He couldn’t afford even a moment of distraction.

Before beginning, however, he pulled out a folded piece of paper—the same contract Lady Vaelora had made him sign. Without a word, he handed it to Elyra.

She glanced over it quickly, then passed it to her father.

Lord Caeron took the paper, read it once with a sharp gaze, then nodded firmly.

"It is fine. If this is what must be done—then so be it."

Noel turned back to the desk.

He reached again into his pouch and drew out the most precious ingredient of all—the frostpetals.

Carefully, he placed them in the mortar.

The petals shimmered faintly as they settled inside.

Like shards of ice, yet glowing softly with the pure light of natural mana.

Noel gripped the pestle.

And then, he began to grind.

Slowly at first—pressing firmly, twisting. The frostpetals began to break apart under the force of the stone.

Tiny crystalline particles spread across the mortar’s surface—like crushed ice, glittering faintly beneath the room’s light.

But there was no time to admire them.

Minutes passed. Noel worked relentlessly, ensuring every particle was perfectly ground. His arms ached—but he didn’t stop.

When the frostpetals were ready, he reached for the next component.

Royal Bee Honey.

Thick. Rich. Heavy with natural mana.

He poured it carefully into the mortar.

The mixture thickened instantly—turning sticky and difficult to work with. But this step was crucial.

Noel leaned over the mortar and began again—grinding, turning, mixing.

Over and over.

Minutes dragged into nearly half an hour.

Sweat gathered at his temples. His breath came harder with each motion. But his hands never stopped moving.

The mixture began to take on a new texture—smooth, rich, shimmering faintly beneath the mana running through it.

Then came the final component.

Gloomthorn Pollen.

A small pinch—measured precisely. Noel added it slowly, folding it into the blend.

At once, the mixture reacted.

A strange aura began to radiate from the mortar.

A soft light—not warm, not cold—something deeper, something that shimmered with unseen power.

The mixture itself began to glow.

Noel rose swiftly from the desk, mortar in hand.

Without hesitation, he crossed to the bed where Lady Elissabeth lay.

A system message floated before his eyes.

[New Mission: Treat the disease and save Elyra’s mother.]

[Time remaining: 9 hours.]

’Looks like I made it just in time.’

Without wasting a second, Noel dipped a small spoon into the mixture.

Carefully, he tilted Lady Elissabeth’s head and poured a small portion of the cure into her mouth.

The thick liquid slid down her throat slowly—Noel watching every breath, every reaction.

Lord Caeron stood nearby, eyes sharp.

"I sincerely hope whatever you just made... works."

Noel didn’t look away from Lady Elissabeth.

"Now... we wait," he said, voice tired, worn from the hours of concentration.

And with that, he stepped back—heart pounding beneath the weight of the moment.

Hours passed.

One after another, each dragging slower than the last.It felt like an eternity.

[New Mission: Treat the disease and save Elyra’s mother.][Time remaining: 3 hours.]

’FUCK! Six hours gone and there’s still no sign of improvement. Did it even work? I followed the instructions exactly how they were written in the novel...’

Noel sat alone in the corridor, resting on a long bench beneath the tall arched windows.

The night had settled over Estermont.

The moonlight poured through the glass, casting silver beams across the polished floor and the grand garden beyond. The estate was silent. No servants. No voices. Only the cold, patient hum of the night.

Noel leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fingers steepled beneath his chin.

He couldn’t stop the thoughts from circling in his head.

’What if I forgot something? It’s been so long since I read that part. There’s a chance... but no, it’s impossible. I can’t fail. I promised Elyra I would save her mother.’

He gritted his teeth, eyes narrowing.

’I can’t fail her.’

Suddenly—a sharp crack broke the silence.

The doors to the master bedroom burst open, slamming back against the walls.

Noel looked up instantly.

A familiar silhouette rushed through the doorway.

Elyra.

She was no longer in her formal clothes.Now she wore a simple, elegant dark red silk pajama set, the deep color of her house. Her hair—usually worn in a long braid—now hung loose around her shoulders, flowing behind her as she ran.

But Noel didn’t focus on her clothing.

His eyes locked onto her face.

Her expression wasn’t cold, or composed, or calculating as it often was.

Her eyes were wet—not with sadness.

With joy.

Noel stood from the bench just as she reached him.

And in that moment, a blue window appeared before his eyes. novelbuddy-cσ๓

[Congratulations. You have completed the mission: Treat the disease and save Elyra’s mother.]

The words barely registered before Elyra threw herself toward him, full force.

The impact knocked them both to the floor.

Elyra clung tightly to him, her face pressed against his chest, her shoulders trembling.

"Thank you... thank you..." she whispered over and over, voice broken with relief.

Noel said nothing at first.

He simply wrapped one arm gently around her back, and with the other, ran his fingers softly through her hair.

"I told you, didn’t I?" he murmured quietly. "I would never lie to you about something like this, Elyra."

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