The Extra Who Stole the Hero’s System

The Sapphire family manor was less a house and more a sprawling testament to wealth and lineage. As I stepped out of the carriage, my eyes scanned the imposing building.

It was built of precious, almost luminous stone, and every window seemed to gleam. But what truly struck me was the pervasive presence of blue. Not just a hint, but a deliberate, regal blue that permeated everything. The shutters were a deep sapphire, the intricate carvings around the doorways were picked out in a lighter cerulean (sky blue), and even the very air seemed to shimmer with the hue.

Inside, the blue theme continued, but with an elegance that prevented it from being overwhelming. Rich velvet curtains, the color of a midnight sky, draped tall windows. Tapestries depicting scenes of noble hunts and ancient battles were woven. Even the polished wooden floors reflected the blue light filtering in from stained-glass panels. It was beautiful, undeniably so, but also a constant, visual reminder of the family I had just joined.

And then there was the family themselves. Lord Sapphire had hair the color of a clear summer sky, a vibrant, almost unnatural blue that framed his aristocratic face. His eldest child, a young woman who carried herself with quiet grace, shared the same striking blue hair, falling in elegant waves past her shoulders. The younger child, a boy whose energy seemed barely contained, also had hairs of bright blue. It was clearly a hereditary trait, a mark of their pure lineage.

My own black hair felt starkly out of place. It was a common, unremarkable shade, a stark contrast to their vivid blue. Lady Sapphire, with her warm honey-colored eyes and soft brown hair, was the only one who didn't fit the blue-haired mold, a subtle hint of her being a Sapphire only by marriage. I was the adopted son, the outsider, visually marked by my ordinary black hair in a family of vibrant blue. It was a small detail that told my supposed adoption.

"Kai, dear, are you quite settled?" Lady Sapphire's voice was gentle, pulling me from my observations. "The servants will see to your needs. Feel free to rest, or you wish to explore the manor again."

"Thank you, Lady Sapphire," I replied, trying to sound genuinely grateful. "I think I'll… explore a little." It was the perfect excuse. I needed to find my room, and more importantly, figure out the layout of this massive place without looking like a complete idiot.

My internal monologues were telling of my complete oblivion. Okay, Alex, act natural. You've lived here for years. You know these halls like the back of your hand. Don't look lost. Don't stare at the tapestries like they're alien artifacts.

I started walking, trying to project a sense of casual familiarity. My goal was simple: find the adopted son's room.

I tried to use logic. Noble children's rooms were usually on upper floors, often near each other. I headed for the grand staircase, its banister intricately carved and gleaming. As I ascended, I glanced at the portraits lining the walls – stern-faced ancestors, all with varying shades of blue hair.

Upstairs, the hallways branched off in several directions. I chose one at random, trying to appear purposeful. I passed several closed doors, each looking identical. No nameplates, no distinguishing features, it was truly overwhelming.

The system flickered at the edge of my vision, a subtle blue shimmer that appeared for a second, then vanished. A silent reminder of its unstable presence, a constant pressure at the back of my mind. It was still there, still active, still glitching.

I opened a door, hoping it would be my room. It wasn't. It was a small sitting area, tastefully decorated, but clearly not a bedroom. I quickly closed it, trying to look like I'd just been checking on something.

I tried another hallway, then another. The manor was a labyrinth. Each turn seemed to lead to another identical corridor, another set of closed doors. My casual stroll was slowly turning into a frustrated wander. I could feel a bead of sweat trickle down my temple. This was harder than it looked.

Finally, I decided to just pick a door that looked slightly different, perhaps a bit more secluded. It was at the very end of a long, quiet corridor, almost hidden behind a large potted plant. I took a deep breath, hoping this was it.

I pushed the heavy wooden door open.

It wasn't a bedroom.

The room was dimly lit, the light filtering in from a single, high window. The air was cool, carrying the faint, metallic scent of polished steel and something earthy, like stone dust. My eyes adjusted, and I took in the sight before me.

The walls were lined with racks, and on those racks, hung swords. Hundreds of them. They weren't just ordinary weapons; these were works of art. Blades of gleaming, pure metal, honed to a razor edge, reflected the faint light. Others were crafted from what looked like polished, dark stone, their edges impossibly sharp, their surfaces etched with intricate, glowing runes. Some were long and slender rapiers, others broad, heavy greatswords. Each hilt was unique, adorned with precious gems, intricate carvings, or wrapped in fine leather. They were elegant, deadly, and clearly fit for nobility, for warriors, for those who truly understood the art of combat.

This wasn't a storage room for common weapons. This was an armory, a treasury of blades. The Sapphire family might be known for their scholarship, but they clearly had a hidden passion for the blade.

My gaze settled on one sword in particular. It was a longsword, its blade a dark, almost volcanic stone, with a hilt wrapped in silver wire. It looked impossibly light, yet radiated a sense of immense power. Drawn by an inexplicable urge, I reached out, my fingers closing around the hilt. It was cool to the touch, perfectly balanced. I lifted it from its hook, feeling its weight, its presence. It felt… right in my hand.

"What are you doing in here?"

The voice was male, sharp, and laced with an unmistakable note of suspicion. It came from the doorway, cutting through the quiet hum of the room like a knife. I froze, the stone sword still in my hand, its tip pointing towards the floor. My heart leaped, was it the end?, was I figured out?