The Extra is a Genius!?-Chapter 553: A Day to Remember [I]

Two weeks had passed since the death of Nicolas von Aldros.

Today was the day of his farewell.

The gardens of the Castle of Valon had been chosen for it—the widest space within the walls, shaped not for ceremony, but for gathering. Stone paths cut through carefully kept greenery, fountains stood still without sound, and banners hung lowered, their colors muted in respect. It was a place meant to hold many, and today, it did.

Silence ruled the garden.

Not the empty kind, but the deliberate stillness that followed loss. Voices were kept low. Movements measured. Even those accustomed to command and war stood with restraint, as if the space itself demanded it.

They had come from everywhere.

Kings. Monarchs. Representatives of continents that rarely agreed on anything, now standing side by side without dispute. Not for politics. Not for appearances. But because the name being honored today carried weight across borders.

Among them stood King Deyrion Neral, ruler of Velmora. His presence was impossible to miss. Skin dark as polished obsidian caught the light without reflecting it. Two sweeping horns rose from his head, black and smooth, faint red energy pulsing along their surface like a restrained heartbeat. His eyes—deep crimson, ancient and unblinking—remained fixed ahead, unreadable, yet attentive.

There were many like him. Different races. Different crowns. Different pasts.

All gathered for one man.

Nicolas von Aldros.

Former director of the academy. Pillar of humanity. A mage whose name had shaped generations, whose decisions had altered the course of wars and quieted disasters before they ever reached the public eye. One of the strongest human mages in history—not because of raw power alone, but because he endured.

He taught. He guided. He stood in the background and let others shine.

Now, the space he had left behind was visible.

A short distance from the main gathering, away from the densest clusters of nobles and guards, Noel stood beside a stone balustrade that overlooked the lower gardens. His hands rested lightly against the cool surface as he watched the crowd without really seeing it.

Balthor stood next to him.

The contrast between them was familiar in a way that hadn’t faded with time. The broad-shouldered dwarf carried himself with the weight of a king now, crown absent but authority unmistakable, beard braided with care rather than tavern neglect. It still amused Noel, sometimes, how easily the man who once ran a noisy tavern had stepped into a throne meant for legends.

Balthor broke the silence first, voice low but warm. "So," he said, glancing sideways, "how’ve you been, lad? Feels like it’s been far too long since I last saw you."

Noel exhaled slowly. "I’ve been... alright," he answered after a moment. "These last weeks were rough. Losing Nicolas wasn’t easy." His gaze stayed forward. "But I’m better now than I was at first."

Balthor nodded, expression sobering. "Aye. He was a good man." His voice carried genuine respect. "Did more for Tharvaldur than most will ever know. And for you as well." He paused. "He paid a heavy price."

"He did," Noel said quietly. "Today’s not for dwelling on that, though. It’s for remembering him properly."

A corner of Balthor’s mouth lifted. "Spoken like someone who learned from him." He let out a short breath, then tilted his head. "Still feels strange, doesn’t it? Me standing here as king. You and I talking like this."

Noel glanced at him and allowed a faint smile. "You’ve handled it better than you let on."

Balthor snorted. "Don’t spread that around, kid. I’ve got an image to maintain."

Balthor’s gaze drifted back toward the garden, toward the crowd gathered in quiet lines and scattered clusters. For a few seconds, he didn’t speak, as if choosing his words with care. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

"He was a great man," Balthor said at last. There was no need to add anything else to it. "Strong, smart, stubborn when it counted." His fingers tightened briefly against the stone railing. "Tharvaldur wouldn’t be standing the way it is now without him. A lot of what we went through, a lot of what we survived, started with decisions he made quietly, without ever asking for recognition."

Noel listened, his expression still, attentive.

"He gave more than people will ever realize," Balthor continued. "And in the end, that cost him." He didn’t look away as he said it. "Some would call that a sacrifice. I do."

Noel nodded once. "It was hard," he admitted. "Harder than I expected." His voice stayed even, but the weight behind it didn’t fade. "But today isn’t about regretting what happened. It’s about remembering who he was. What he did."

Balthor turned to him then, eyes steady. "Exactly." A slow breath left his chest. "A man doesn’t die when his time runs out." He gestured faintly toward the gathering, toward the kings and soldiers and mages standing shoulder to shoulder. "He dies when people stop saying his name. When they stop carrying him forward."

His mouth curved into something firm and certain. "And someone like Nicolas?" He shook his head. "That won’t happen."

The garden remained quiet around them, but the silence felt different now. Less heavy. More resolved.

"He was a living legend," Balthor said. "And legends don’t vanish just because the body does."

Noel’s gaze followed the line of mourners once more. "No," he said softly. "They don’t."

Noel stayed quiet for a moment longer, then shifted slightly, resting his forearms against the stone. "And you?" he asked, turning his head just enough to look at Balthor. "How’s the crown treating you so far?"

Balthor let out a rough chuckle. "Better than I expected. Worse than I’d like." He rolled his shoulders once. "Turns out ruling a kingdom involves a lot less smashing things and a lot more listening to people talk."

Noel huffed softly. "And the drinking?"

Balthor raised an eyebrow. "You really think dwarves just stop?" He snorted. "Lad, that’d be like asking us to stop breathing. It’s in the blood. Fuel for the forge, that’s what it is." He gave Noel a sideways look. "We just learn when to put the mug down. Sometimes."

Noel laughed under his breath, the sound easing something tight in his chest.

Balthor watched him for a second, then nodded toward the garden. "So," he said, tone lighter now, "what about you, kid? What’s next?"

"Training," Noel replied without hesitation. "A lot of it." He paused, then added, "And I’ve got something important to take care of soon."

Balthor grunted. "Alright, good luck on that." Then his eyes narrowed, catching the hint Noel hadn’t spelled out. "You’re smiling like someone about to drop news."

Noel glanced away, then back again. "You might want to get used to the idea of being an uncle."

Balthor’s brows lifted at once. "Oh?" There was something expectant in his voice as he looked Noel up and down. "About time, lad. I was starting to think you’d make me wait forever."

Noel blinked. "...Me?"

Balthor paused. Just a fraction. Then frowned. "Wait. Not you?"

Noel shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Marcus and Clara," he said. "They’re expecting. Found out not long ago." He hesitated, then added, "It’s a boy."

For a moment, Balthor just stared at him.

"...Hah." He let out a rough laugh, shaking his head. "Damn it. Got my hopes up." There was no real disappointment in his tone, just surprise mixed with amusement. "Didn’t expect Marcus to be the first one to beat you to it."

Noel shrugged lightly. "Neither did I."

Balthor studied him again, this time more carefully. "And you?" he asked. "You planning on letting him stay ahead?"

Noel met his gaze and smiled, calm and sure. "Soon."

A presence settled behind them, quiet but unmistakable.

Both Noel and Balthor turned at the same time.

Director Daemar stood a short distance away, hands folded behind his back, expression composed in the way only someone accustomed to weight and responsibility could manage. His gaze moved between them once, respectful, patient, then fixed on Noel.

"It’s time," he said.

The words didn’t need anything else.

Noel straightened, the faint smile fading as the moment shifted. He drew in a slow breath and nodded once. Balthor’s expression sobered as well, the humor draining away without complaint.

"Guess that’s our cue," Balthor muttered, adjusting his stance.

They stepped away from the balustrade together, turning back toward the heart of the garden where the gathered crowd waited. The murmurs softened further as people sensed the transition, the unspoken understanding passing through the space.