How to Save a Time-Limited Heroine

“You seem to have gotten closer to Anya these days.”

Deltain lifted his head.

The first thing that caught his eye was the interface.

<80 days left until the blossoming of Magic Flower Actrías.>

Deltain quickly dismissed it and looked at Agnes.

He frowned.

“Who is Anya?”

Agnes blinked.

She blinked for a while with an inscrutable expression and then burst into laughter.

“Hehehe, hahaha…!”

“What’s so funny? Should I know who Anya is?”

Agnes laughed even harder.

She laughed for a long time like someone who had heard the funniest joke in the world, then finally managed to contain herself and spoke.

“That’s too much. You eat her cookies all the time.”

“Oh.”

Only then did Deltain realize who was.

“Your maid?”

“She’s not a maid. She’s a friend I’ve been with since childhood.”

“Still, she’s a maid.”

Deltain, still annoyed, gave a perfunctory answer and continued his examination.

But Agnes didn’t stop talking.

“You didn’t even know her name until now?”

“Should I?”

“You ate her cookies.”

“I never asked for them. I just ate what she gave me.”

“Whoa, you’re a bad guy.”

“If you’re going to pick a fight, shut up.”

Deltain had no interest in Anya.

It wasn’t just Anya.

Every person, thing, and honor in this world meant nothing to him.

He only cared about one thing.

Clearing this damn game and returning to his original world to reclaim all the rightful rewards he deserved.

Therefore, he didn’t remember.

To Deltain, extracting this magic flower safely was much more important than the name of a servant like .

“Anya will be sad.”

“So what?”

“She seems to like you.”

“There are many women who like me. You know? I still get more than ten marriage proposals at my mansion every day.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“What can I do? That’s reality.”

Deltain didn’t blink an eye as he made his arrogant remarks.

It couldn’t be helped.

His unshakable self-confidence and the pride of always being in the position of the winner were integral to his identity.

“I’m just that good.”

“You’re so full of yourself.”

“I’m not particularly full of myself. I’m just so good that it looks that way even when I state the facts.”

“Pretending to be humble while being arrogant is really disgusting.”

<1st Tier Magic: Activate Silence.>

Agnes’s voice disappeared.

She widened her eyes in surprise, then made a sullen face and poked Deltain’s arm.

“I won’t release it.”

When Deltain said that, she snorted, though without sound, she made her feelings clear.

Deltain continued to examine Agnes in silence for a while.

She stared at his serious face for a long time, then suddenly leaned her head forward.

Shkk.

Startled, Deltaine pulled his head back.

Agnes’s eyes narrowed sweetly.

Poke.

Poke.

Her finger poked Deltain’s arm again.

Deltain spoke with a menacing expression.

“… if you pick a fight, I’ll silence you again.”

Agnes nodded.

Her cherry blossom-colored eyes sparkled as if to say, “Trust me,” but they didn’t inspire confidence in Deltain.

With an annoyed sigh, Deltain withdrew his mana.

“Whoa. Is this how frustrating not being able to speak?”

“What’s new? It’s not your first time.”

“I always react like this hoping you’ll feel guilty.”

“If you pick a fight….”

“It’s not a fight.”

Agnes said, stroking Deltain’s arm that held her wrist.

“It’s an expression of affection.”

“… ridiculous.”

“It’s not good for a Count to say such harsh words.”

“It’s worse for a lady to say such vulgar words.”

Agnes laughed heartily and continued her verbal sparring with Deltain.

Then she added another word.

“So, when are you planning your fifty-second failure?”

“Correct your words. It’s not a failure, it’s a mistake.”

“Whatever, when is it? You’re not just examining me because you’re scared of failing again, right?”

Deltain’s pride was wounded.

He glared at Agnes with blazing eyes and spoke.

“Don’t talk nonsense. In my entire life, I’ve never experienced failure or defeat. And that won’t change in the future.”

His voice was filled with suppressed anger.

Agnes slyly smiled at this.

“Really?”

It was provocative.

Yet, it was still so beautiful that it was more accurate to call it enchanting.

For a moment, Deltain felt his throat dry. He shook off the sensation and spoke.

“Remember this.”

“What?”

“I may make mistakes, but I don’t fail.”

“Is there a difference?”

“There’s a big difference.”

Deltain smiled crookedly.

With that expression, his golden eyes shone even more brightly.

“Mistakes can be corrected. Failures cannot. I don’t make mistakes that can’t be corrected.”

These were words he spoke to her, and also to himself.

“Do you swear?”

“I swear. On my life.”

It wasn’t just a heated outburst.

Deltain truly believed it.

Despite all the vicious hardships he had faced in his life, none had ever brought him to his knees.

Entering this game and grappling with this hell were just temporary setbacks, he thought.

In the end, he would be the victor.

“Treatment done. No abnormalities. I’m leaving.”

As Agnes watched Deltain rise from his seat, she smiled and waved.

“See you tomorrow.”

“I won’t be…”

Deltain instinctively began to say , but then furrowed his brows and corrected himself.

“… yes, I’ll be here tomorrow.”

“Idiot.”

“Shut up.”

Deltain left the room.

As usual, Anya handed Deltain a cookie, and today he finally remembered her name and said, “Thank you, Anya.”

*

Despite his confidence before Agnes, Deltain felt quite overwhelmed by his current situation.

Day and night, he combed through ancient texts for information on the magic flower and repeatedly attempted surgical procedures using [Imagination], but he found no clear solution.

Today was another repetition of that routine.

Sitting in the study, flipping through books as usual, Deltain sensed someone’s presence and looked up.

He raised a question.

“What is it?”

“It’s a plant.”

Butler Gerhart was there.

The elderly man, impeccably dressed in a black suit, placed a potted plant on the table and continued speaking.

“I’ve recently taken up reading as a hobby. They say having plants nearby can bring peace of mind.”

“Bullshit. Just thinking about plants makes me want to puke.”

Deltain frowned.

Struggling with the magic flower, Actrias, made him view all plants unfavorably.

Gerhart chuckled softly and continued.

“Are things not going well?”

“Can’t you tell?”

“That’s exactly when you need to be around plants. Would you like to see this little sprout?”

“I feel like throwing up the sandwich I just ate.”

“Please avoid the pot. This plant is sensitive and might be hindered in its growth.”

“I wish the magic flower was that sensitive.”

“All plants are sensitive. A slight change in the environment and they quickly lose their vitality.”

“Bullsh….”

Pause.

Deltain’s body stiffened.

Gerhart, noticing Deltain’s unusual behavior, hesitated for a moment before smiling softly and leaving the room.

He knew that whenever his special master reacted like this, something extraordinary was about to happen.

Creak-

The door closed.

Shortly after, a blinding blue light began to seep through the tightly shut door.

*

<77 days until the blossoming of the Magic Flower Actrias.>

For about three days, Deltain postponed all his scheduled appointments with Agnes and focused solely on his research.

Day and night had no meaning to him.

There was only the progress of his experiments.

A severe hunger that made his body scream, intense thirst that parched his throat, eyelids that threatened to close, and a throbbing headache were all irrelevant to him.

He had experienced such things countless times in his youth.

He was on the path to victory.

The thrill of it allowed Deltain to overcome all physical reactions and complete a spell.

<1%… 18%… 27%….>

After about 70 hours of research.

He waited anxiously for the result.

<…100% hierarchy determination complete.>

The result, as expected for Deltain, was success.

<3rd Tier Magic: Drought Acquired.>

“It’s done.”

Deltain dressed hurriedly.

“Gerhart!”

“Yes.”

“We’re going to Duke Levadin’s mansion! Get the car ready!”

“It’s too late…”

“Just do it!”

Gerhart frowned at the time, which was past 8 PM, but reluctantly nodded.

“… I’ll send a telegram. Let’s go.”

*

Agnes laid on her bed with her eyes closed.

Though it was evening, she wasn’t sleeping.

Her deeply furrowed brows made that clear.

It was obvious she was irritated, and everyone in the household could easily guess why.

In her typically uneventful life, there had been only one recent change.

The absence of Deltain Hebron.

It was only natural that his sudden cancellation of all scheduled meetings for the past three days was the reason for her irritation.

Anya, Agnes’s personal maid, was on edge.

‘… he’s going to be in trouble.’

Anya, who knew more about Agnes than Duke Levadin himself, was well aware of how much Agnes hated waiting and how much more she despised having her expectations dashed.

Of course, Anya had no reason to worry about Agnes’s anger.

Agnes wasn’t the type to lash out indiscriminately, and thus, the only person who would have to endure her anger was Deltain Hebron.

‘Count…’

The reason for Anya’s concern was simple.

It was her affection for Deltain, who always praised her cookies.

A young girl’s budding affection had turned into anxiety.

The anxiety based on empathy was eating her up inside.

Someone was watching her.

Agnes, who had opened her eyes without Anya noticing, was observing her maid with a doll-like, inanimate face.

Tap.

Tap.

Agnes’s hand tapped the blanket covering her.

Her lips moved silently.

But she wouldn’t spit it out verbally.

She was choosing her words.

Silent had descended to the room.

After a long while, as Agnes continued her contemplation, there was a knock at the door.

Knock, knock-

A familiar voice was heard by both women.

“I’m coming in.”

Before anyone could respond, the door opened.

The person who entered was none other than Deltain Hebron.

“Hey, you. Get out.”

Deltain said to Anya.