Some time passed.

The waves rolled in slow, steady rhythms, breaking white against the sand before retreating back into the sea. Noel sat alone on the beach, his elbows on his knees as he stared out at the horizon.

The peace didn't last.

A sharp flicker cut across his vision.

[New Mission: Begins in 5 seconds.]

[New Mission: Prevent the Fall of House Thorne. Time Limit: 60 Days. Reward: The Truth.]

Noel's jaw tightened. He leaned back on his hands, eyes locked on the words hanging in front of him. The letters burned like an insult more than an order.

'Sixty days. That's… longer than usual.' His thoughts were tangled, sour. 'And it's the second time the system tells me the reward before I start. The truth…'

His gaze drifted back to the ocean, the water glowing orange in the dying light. He dragged a hand down his face, muttering under his breath. "Avoid the fall of House Thorne… Why? Why the hell should I care about that family?"

The frustration bubbled up fast. 'I already decided I wanted nothing to do with them. That wasn't going to change. So why now?'

The waves kept crashing, steady, unbothered.

'The Hunt only lasts ten days. This mission's timer is sixty. That means it's not just about the Festival. At some point, I'll have to go back. Back to that house.'

His lips twisted bitterly. 'Fucking shitty system. Always making my life harder, always forcing me into this crap. In the novel, House Thorne did fall. But the reason was never explained. And now? With everything I've changed, the butterfly effect is already at play. Even if I knew, it wouldn't be the same.'

Noel let himself fall back onto the sand, the grains warm beneath him even as the evening cooled. The waves crashed steadily, a rhythm that might have been calming if his head wasn't spinning.

He stared at the sky, streaked with orange and purple, and let out a dry laugh. "Always the same… huh, system? Throwing me into problems I never asked for."

The words still burned in his vision. 'Prevent the fall of House Thorne.'

He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead, eyes narrowing. 'Fine. Complaining won't change anything. So what are the possibilities?'

Images of his family flickered through his mind. Kael, polished and oddly warmer now than before. Damon, blunt but honest, less of a brute than Noel remembered. 'No. Not them. They've changed. For the better, maybe. They're not the type to drag the house into ruin anymore.'

Livia's face came next. Once sharp and cruel, now softened, changed by her marriage to Veyron. She hardly spent time in the Thorne estate anymore. 'Not her either. She's far from it, busy playing the dutiful wife of a Lestaria. The house isn't her concern now.'

His father's iron-gray eyes surfaced in his thoughts. Albrecht—stern, unbending, the embodiment of House Thorne's ambition. 'No… he's not the type to fall. Not easily. All he thinks about is the house, its strength, its legacy. For him, there is no option except winning.'

But then there were others. The wives. Mirelle, cold and calculating, always scheming behind narrowed eyes. Serina, sharper than she seemed, her tongue venomous when it wanted to be. 'Could they be the ones? Pulling strings in the dark?'

His jaw clenched. Another possibility loomed, heavier, darker. 'The Pillars. Three and Four. I still don't know who they are. If they're connected to this… then the fall of the house isn't just possible—it's inevitable unless I act.'

The thought settled like a stone in his chest.

He exhaled hard, letting the sound of the surf drown out his bitterness. 'So that's it. Complaining won't fix it. All I can do is wait. Wait until after the Festival… and be ready to deal with whatever comes.'

The steady crash of the tide filled the silence, but Noel barely noticed anymore. His mind was too loud. He rubbed his face once more, ready to push himself up—when soft footsteps broke the rhythm of the waves.

He turned his head.

Elena was walking toward him, the fading sunlight wrapping her in gold. She wore a white dress, simple yet graceful, the fabric swaying lightly with the sea breeze. Her platinum-blonde hair shimmered, and the amber pendant at her throat—his gift from the Drunken Hammer—caught the light like fire trapped in stone.

Noel pushed himself up to sit properly. For a second, the sight almost made him forget the bitter taste of the mission.

Elena stopped a few steps away, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her dress. Her pointed ears, usually steady and proud, flushed red against her pale skin. She lowered her gaze, almost shy.

"How… do I look?" she asked, her voice quieter than usual.

Noel blinked once, then allowed the faintest of smiles. "Incredible. You're beautiful."

Her golden eyes flicked up at him, widening before her lips curved into a small, embarrassed smile. "You don't hesitate when you say things like that."

"Why would I?" Noel replied plainly, though his chest felt oddly lighter.

Elena stepped closer, brushing her hair back as the wind played with it. The pendant glimmered again, and her fingers touched it briefly, as if reminding herself it was real.

"I wanted to wear this," she murmured. "It feels right tonight."

Noel's eyes lingered on the stone, then on her. "It suits you."

He stood, brushing the sand off his hands, and offered her one. She hesitated for only a breath before placing hers in his, the warmth of her palm steady against his own.

She glanced at him, her cheeks still faintly flushed, and asked, "So… what do we do now?"

Noel looked toward the horizon, the sun dipping lower, the sea painted in orange and violet. "How about a walk? Before dinner. Just us."

Her lips curved into a soft smile. "A walk on the beach?"

"Yeah," Noel said simply. "Why not?"

They slipped off their shoes and left them near a driftwood log. The sand was cool under their bare feet, soft where the tide had dampened it. The first wave that touched Elena's toes made her flinch, then laugh quietly, the sound carried away by the wind.

Noel found himself watching her more than the horizon. The way her dress brushed against her knees, the way her hair gleamed as the wind tangled it, the way her amber pendant glowed like a second sun against her chest.

Elena walked a little ahead, glancing back at him now and then with that shy smile that made her look younger, softer. "It feels strange," she admitted, "being here, just like this. After everything that's happened."

"Strange isn't bad," Noel replied.

She tilted her head, golden eyes catching his in the dim light. "No. It isn't."

The water swept up again, covering their feet, and Elena gave a small laugh. "It's cold."

Noel smirked faintly. "You'll live."

Her laugh turned into a mock pout, but it faded quickly. She drew closer again, her arm brushing his as they walked. The silence that followed wasn't heavy, wasn't awkward. It was just… quiet, filled only by the rhythm of the waves and their steady steps.

The sun finally dipped below the horizon, leaving the two of them walking together, bare feet in the surf, as night settled softly over the sea.

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