[Lifespan Remaining: 10 days, 13 hours, 57 minutes.]
A girl with short green hair, carrying a wooden staff in one hand and a folded map in the other, was standing in front of the line to confirm cores.
’Mira Eden from Group 12...’
Noct attempted to remember her, but nothing came up. He couldn’t even remember her name appearing even once in Ending Fantasy. Though judging by the amount of cores their group gathered, as well as how everyone naturally followed her direction, she was probably competent.
He knew it was probably not because she was unimportant, but maybe her name had likely only existed in a list of casualties, just like Finn’s was.
Robin stood right behind her, his white hair dirtied slightly by dust and tied up into a bun. A sheathed sword rested against his waist, while a stuffed pouch in his hand suggested that his gruop had enjoyed a considerably successful hunt.
But Noct was finally able to get a glimpse of his entire party. Obviously, he knew about Violet Reine. The heroine had already cleaned most of the mud from her uniform, but the annoyed look on her face suggested that she was still not too happy with being here.
Noct was still fifty-fifty on what he heard about her talks with the custodian. Sure there was a motive, but his trap hadn’t gone off yet, so at least the custodian hadn’t moved.
There were two others. First, being Nolan Hartwick, heir of Marquis Hartwick. He was huge and quite menacing-looking, someone who would eventually become Robin’s right-hand man and most dependable companion at the Academy—the stern and dependable kind.
In the game, Nolan had begun as an arrogant noble who disliked Robin’s lesser noble stats. The rivalry lasted quite a while before Robin saved his life and earned his undying loyalty. But judging by how the guy was practically glued to Robin, that event probably already happened.
The final member was Celine Vautrin, a talented Fire Mage from another prominent noble family. Her dark-brown hair hung just above her shoulders, while a pair of black gloves covered both hands.
If Noct remembered correctly, she was subjected to excessively harsh training, causing both hands to become badly burned in an accident. Due to this, she rarely spoke and kept to herself, but was just as talented as the rest of the party.
And, naturally, another heroine.
’Of course, he already has two of them.’
Robin emptied their pouch into the crate, and just like Noct expected, they had gone to the red regions, where there were mostly 2 and 3-Star Undeads.
And by the end of the count, Noct was surprised that he was only behind Robin’s group by just six points. Where 2-Star Cores earned two points while 1-Star cores were half that and 3-Star cores were double that.
Violet smiled with satisfaction, although her eyes were already moving toward the staff tent, where the custodian was standing at attention. As for Robin, the guy kept glancing toward Noct’s direction, but said nothing further.
Noct didn’t catch any of it however, his eyes kept glancing toward the Northern Gate. All the teams were supposed to come back for lunch, yet Group Eleven was considerably late. And the worst thing was...
Alice was nowhere to be seen at camp.
He quickly hurried over to the instructor’s tent, where Klein was huddled over a map on his desk, one hand placed on his head with a grim-looking expression.
"Instructor Klein," Noct asked quickly. "Where is Alice? Did she not return with you?"
The instructor snapped his head toward him immediately, head tilting in confusion. "What? She told me she was going to catch up with your group? We returned around four hours ago."
’Damn it...what the hell are you doing, Alice Alstromeria?!’
"She’s not with us."
But before Noct could ask any further, Klein rubbed his forehead one more time before sighing. "Noct, you were right. Activity suddenly spiked in the northern district even after we sent our scouts. And whilst checking this morning with Ms. Alice, we found out that one of our devices had been malfunctioning."
"...What kind of device?"
"The one that’s supposed to deter undead."
The pieces were coming together too well. Was it impossible to avoid after all? Noct could’ve sworn he did everything in his power to prevent this, and yet...
But how? How did they manage to open the Hidden King’s Tomb without the key? Could there be some kind of mistake? Are there multiple keys? Or was his key—?
Noct approached the instructor quickly, reaching into the man’s shirt and pulling out the necklace that Klein showed him yesterday out of his collar.
"W—woah, what are you doing?"
"I should’ve checked it before...!"
On the surface, the key looked exactly identical. But as he paid more attention, a hint of foreign power lingered underneath. Yet for some reason, Noct knew instinctively that he was able to dispel it.
It definitely wasn’t easy. Whoever set this spell up was a professional, that was for sure. It wasn’t a cheap imitation like what Faust had done with the cavern.
But as he focused on dispelling the magic, one of the scouts entered the tent, bloodied and battered. The man breathed heavily, the veins on his limbs bulging with a purplish color and his eyes bloodshot. A few medical staff stood behind him, their faces horrified as they tried to stop him but to no avail.
"I—In...structor! They...are...coming."
The man barely managed to get those words out as he collapsed onto the floor. His bloodshot eyes suddenly rolled back into his head as the man’s life came to an end.
"W—what the hell is going on?" Klein exclaimed. "What’s the status?"
Medical staff finally entered. Most of them brought the scout out while one remained, a terrified expression on her face as she tried to report the situation.
"S—Sir. Group Eleven has returned alongside contestant Alice Alstromeria. They’re bloodied and one of them has been infected by a deadly poison."
"What?!"
Klein suddenly stood up, causing the cord that held onto the key to snap. But that was the exact same time Noct managed to dispel the magic.
On the floor wasn’t the key at all, but a piece of metal that had now split in half. It was haphazardly shaped and placed with an illusion spell that replicated shape and texture so perfectly that someone with a martial class like Klein would’ve never figured it out.
’It’s...happening. The undead siege on Base Camp D."