I Was Just Having Fun With The Time Limit - Chapter 109

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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“Oh, what exciting news!!”
The one who enthusiastically embraced Kaman’s misguided notion was none other than Michael.
Hearing Kaman’s voice from outside the barracks, Michael charged in like a wild colt, bursting through the entrance.
“This time, I’ll win.”
Michael threw himself at Kaman without hesitation.
He didn’t merely attack—his entire body was wrapped tightly in solid mana.
CRASH!
Michael’s fist collided with the ground, unleashing a thunderous boom and shaking the earth.
Kaman sidestepped Michael’s punch without the slightest disturbance and created a small distance between them.
Michael grinned widely.
“Good, this is getting interesting.”
Kiruen spoke up.
“Everything’s fine, but I’d prefer if you didn’t use mana. The Princess’s quarters will be destroyed.”
“That’s why I dodged. This is all because of my brother.”
“….”
Kaman walked ahead in silence.
Michael, as always, interpreted things his own way.
“Finally backing down?”
“Follow me. Let’s fight in an open space.”
At the mention of fighting in an open space, Michael became incredibly excited.
“Perfect, let’s have it out in the clearing right ahead!”
Though different in form, both of their bodies emanated a certain killing intent.
Kiruen suddenly grew concerned about Isabel.
Ordinary people exposed to the killing intent of warriors become mentally unstable.
‘Huh?’
Yet Isabel sat peacefully at the table, sipping her tea.
“Princess, are you alright?”
“Boys grow up by fighting, or so they say.”
Though thunderous sounds echoed from the clearing outside, Isabel paid them little mind.
According to the records in the novel, the two would fight approximately seven thousand times before reaching adulthood.
Since they hadn’t even reached two hundred yet, they had at least six thousand eight hundred more fights ahead of them.
CRASH!
An explosion erupted.
The shockwave was strong enough to shake the entire barracks.
“You’re truly unbothered?”
“By rough calculation, we’ve only progressed 2.85% so far.”
“…What?”
Numbers don’t lie.
A simple, basic equation floated through Isabel’s mind.
(200/7000)*100=2.85
We’ve barely progressed thirty percent, and I had far too much ground to cover to be startled by every little thing.
Whether earthquakes shook the ground or thunderous sounds echoed outside, none of it was particularly surprising.
“This Choco Pie is delicious.”
Kiruen closed her mouth.
Isabel’s excessive composure struck her as oddly peculiar.
‘So this is what it means to have grown up amidst the Imperial Palace’s inner political struggles.’
The thought made my heart ache a little.
I asked just to be sure.
“Your Highness, about what Prince Kaman said earlier…”
“Yes?”
“That part about… thoroughly entertaining you.”
Munch, munch.
Isabel gazed at Kiruen while eating the Choco Pie that Yuri had made for her.
The sight of her made my heart ache so much that I nearly lost my words.
“I’m sure he meant no malice.”
“I know.”
Isabel smiled brightly.
Black cocoa powder clung to the spaces between her white teeth.
“That was probably the best Kaman Brother could do.”
“…”
How could she be so thoughtful?
Kiruen marveled once more.
She possessed the wisdom to look beyond words taken at face value, to perceive the essence that lay beneath them.
It was certainly something remarkable, and for that reason, it was deeply saddening.
Eight-year-old Isabel had become far too much of an adult child.
Isabel felt Kiruen staring intently at her.
‘Sister Kiruen must really love Choco Pie too.’
* * *
Biatone visited his Family Home for the first time in a long while.
His Family Home was located on an island in the center of Lake Barcalt, the largest lake on the continent—a body of water that people of old had mistaken for a sea.
Lake Barcalt was always shrouded in thick mist, making it a place that ordinary people could not easily approach.
“Thank you, my friends.”
Biatone was able to reach the island with the help of the merfolk.
He headed straight toward the family’s main residence.
As always, his mother, Beksah, sat by the window where sunlight streamed in most brightly, reading a book.
“What brings you here?”
Beksah was not particularly pleased to see her son visit.
She had to study magic, tend to flowers, take walks, meditate, and engage in romance.
Beksah’s days were far too busy.
“There is something I would like to consult with you about.”
“You’re an adult too, aren’t you? Handle your own affairs.”
“Ugh, here we go again.”
Biatone approached his mother with a smooth smile.
“I’ve learned a new massage technique, Mother.”
“Enough. Get away before I strike you with lightning.”
“So you’re that thrilled to see your son! I missed you too, Mother.”
Biatone worried she might actually summon lightning, but fortunately no such calamity occurred.
“What brings you here? Is this about Ron? Did he cause trouble again?”
“Do you still think we’re children?”
In truth, through Beksah’s eyes, Biatone remained a child.
Ron was no different.
“And you seem to have forgotten—Ron became the Emperor of the Empire. Even if he causes trouble, he can handle it himself.”
“Ah, that’s right.”
Beksah’s gaze turned toward Biatone.
Though she said nothing, Biatone understood her meaning instantly.
It was silent pressure: Ron became Emperor, so what are you doing at your age?
“That’s because His Majesty is of royal blood. I’ve made my own achievements too—I’m the Empire’s Chief Advisor.”
“Isn’t that lower than Ron?”
“To rank higher than His Majesty, I’d have to commit treason.”
“That’s not necessarily a bad idea.”
“…If you’re serious, why don’t you just become Emperor yourself and join the royal family?”
“Ron is too adorable to steal the throne from.”
“Adorable? Where exactly are your memories stuck? When was the last time you saw His Majesty?”
It seemed like about twenty years ago, though he couldn’t recall exactly.
“Mother, you simply don’t know—he’s not cute at all anymore.”
“Children who are cute when young remain cute when grown.”
“I was quite adorable myself back then.”
Crack!
Lightning struck the ground beneath Biatone’s feet.
If he joked any further, that crackling lightning would surely pierce straight through his spine.
“Actually, Mother, there’s something I really need to discuss with you.”
“I’m very busy.”
“Just ten minutes.”
Biatone quickly began explaining about Isabel.
From her birth in the Taesaeng Youngchangbu to the present day.
“With such tremendous magical power and exceptional magical sensitivity, she possesses the qualities of an Archmage.”
“Exactly. Just like you, Mother.”
“Then why not teach her magic more actively? If what you say is true, Villorian could become the strongest empire in history.”
“How long would it take for her to become an Archmage like you, Mother?”
“I’d say roughly thirty years? If she’s exceptionally fast, perhaps twenty-five?”
That was an extraordinarily rapid pace of advancement.
To reach the rank of Archmage before even turning forty—it spoke volumes of her talent.
Villorian had been blessed with remarkable fortune.
Yet she noticed shadows gathering across her son’s face.
“But that person only has thirteen years left to live.”
Biatone’s eyes had grown slightly red-rimmed.
Beksah leaned in more intently to her son’s words.
Watching her son speak of Isabel, Beksah felt a tempest of emotions surge within her.
‘His expressions have become so much richer.’
Biatone had always worn a mask. Even before his own mother.
He was kind and gentle to everyone, yet never allowed anyone truly close.
He was the type to push away those who drew too near.
That was why Beksah had deliberately treated her son with coldness.
She believed it was the only way to keep him from drifting further away.
“That bastard Wilhelm keeps making his moves. So a very capable swordsman named Lancer has been tracking him… Mother. Are you listening to me?”
Beksah was deeply pleased.
‘So your life has finally gained meaning.’
In Beksah’s eyes, Biatone was a child who lacked enthusiasm for life.
He had no desire to die, yet he harbored no attachment to living either.
There was nothing he cherished deeply, nothing he despised intensely.
He was always the same—colorless and odorless son.
Now that son had gained ‘genuine expressions’ and ‘meaning’ in his life.
This was a subtle transformation only a mother could perceive.
“I’m glad you’ve found meaning in your life.”
“…What?”
“Having someone so precious means you’ve truly grown into an adult.”
Beksah remembered precisely when she had become an adult.
More than thirty years ago, when Biatone was born.
That day, she learned what was most precious in the world, and she became an adult.
“What are you talking about?”
Beksah smiled faintly, and Biatone tilted his head in confusion.
His mother’s reaction was quite different from usual. He wasn’t sure why, but it made him slightly uneasy.
“Is it just my imagination, or does something feel off?”
“Now that you’ve finally become an adult, there’s something I must tell you.”
“Why are you being so solemn? Is this some new tactic—lull me into complacency before striking with lightning?”
“Do you really think I’d need such grand tactics against you?”
“Fair point, I suppose.”
“Look closely.”
Beksah rolled up her sleeve.
On her right wrist, something bearing the mark of an hourglass was inscribed.
It was the “Mark of Narbidal.”
“…Mother?”
“I told you, didn’t I? I’m extremely busy.”
The lower chamber of the hourglass was already filled with sand.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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