"No one can heal like the Oracle." That's the point. But even as he says it he's eyeing the man in front of him. Weighing what he says, the likelihood that he's lying, what purpose it could possibly serve to make something like that up.

He's still wary, not entirely sure he believes it... but in the moment the best he can think of to test it is to simply call his bluff. So, after a few more steps he draws up short. "Fine. If you really can..." Noct trails off, stuffs the bundle of his cloak under the opposite arm, and holds out the one he'd raised to block his face from Ardyn's breath. It's not a lot of damage, mind. A patch that is a bright, angry red on the edges and unsettlingly pale in the center, small blisters from the needling frost peppering the skin.

"Prove it."