The Extra's Rise

I finally succeeded in casting Flame Lance, my own four-circle spell.

It had taken far too long, but there it was—the proof of progress, floating in front of me in the form of a perfectly transmuted spear of fire.

Rachel and Cecilia, of course, were already beyond this stage, working on spell weaving, layering multiple spells into one fluid motion like it was some casual party trick. And they weren't even using their Mind aspect Gifts, the very things that would have made their already ridiculous talent even more absurd.

I sighed.

I wasn't about to kid myself.

There was no competing with them in spellcasting.

That was simply reality.

"Congratulations, Arthur," Nero said, his voice carrying an actual trace of praise, which, considering it was Nero, might as well have been a standing ovation.

I thanked him, quietly wondering if this was his version of favoritism.

With that, the class ended, followed by several hours of theory classes, which blurred together into one long, uninterrupted assault on my patience.

After that, I headed to the coffee shop with Rose.

Or at least, that was the plan.

Unfortunately, plans had a way of falling apart when Cecilia Slatemark was involved.

I spotted her before she spotted me, which meant exactly nothing, because the moment her crimson eyes locked onto me, she grinned and started waving enthusiastically, as if we were lifelong best friends instead of two people who had barely spoken.

She practically skipped toward me, her hands clasped behind her back, leaning in just a little too close as she smiled up at me with entirely too much amusement.

"Hey Arthur, you cast Flame Lance pretty well!" she chirped, her voice bright and girlish, the kind of tone that would make anyone unfamiliar with her think she was harmless.

She was not.

Cecilia Slatemark—the princess of the Slatemark Empire, prodigy of magic, and, most importantly, a genuine sociopath who saw people as toys.

She didn't break people because she hated them. She broke them for fun.

"Thank you... Cecilia," I said carefully.

She nodded in approval, clearly pleased that I didn't bother with any honorifics.

"Anyway, how about we hang out together?"

It wasn't a suggestion.

"I'm meeting a friend," I said, hoping this was enough to deter her.

"A date?" she asked, tilting her head in exaggerated curiosity.

I shook my head quickly.

"Then I'll join you guys, okay?" she said, ignoring the part where I hadn't invited her.

Before I could even attempt to resist, she grabbed my sleeve and tugged me forward, leading the way like this was her idea in the first place.

I may have messed up.

The moment we stepped into the coffee shop, I could feel the shift in atmosphere.

Students glanced in our direction, their gazes flicking from me to Cecilia, eyebrows raised, murmurs starting up almost immediately.

Cecilia ignored all of it.

Rose was already sitting inside, waving at me—until she spotted Cecilia.

She froze.

Then, instantly stood up and bowed.

"I—I greet Your Highness!" she said quickly, her voice slightly higher than usual.

Rose was a count's daughter, which gave her a fairly high standing in the Slatemark Empire, but not nearly high enough to be comfortable around Cecilia.

Being a noblewoman, she had met Cecilia before at various events, which meant she knew exactly what kind of person she was dealing with.

If Cecilia took an interest in you, your life was over.

Not in the Ren Kagu "I will crush you if you're weak" way.

No, Cecilia was worse.

If she found you entertaining, she would play with you—twist your life into something you no longer recognized—just for fun.

And when she got bored?

She'd throw you away without a second thought.

Rose knew this.

And judging by the way her hands were gripping the edge of her skirt, she was currently debating whether to flee the country.

Cecilia, of course, saw right through it.

"Oh, please, Rose. Call me Cecilia!" she said sweetly, smiling like a benevolent ruler gracing her subjects with kindness.

I saw right through it, too.

Cecilia wasn't elitist like Ren.

She didn't care about nobility or commoners.

She cared about entertainment.

And she loved abusing her status far more than Ren ever did.

We ordered our coffee and began talking.

To her credit, Cecilia Slatemark could hold a conversation effortlessly when she felt like it—the kind of person who could make you lower your guard with a few well-placed words and a smile that hid far too much amusement.

And, against my better judgment, I found myself relaxing.

Then, I heard it.

A faint sound, barely noticeable.

I turned my head slightly.

Cecilia tilted her head, smiling at me.

I frowned. Had she moved?

No, I was probably imagining things.

I went back to the conversation.

Then I heard it again.

A shift in space. A presence just slightly closer than before.

I turned again.

She was definitely closer.

'No way. No, come on now. I'm imagining it.'

I forced myself to focus on the conversation, but out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something else.

Rose was watching Cecilia.

Not openly. She was being polite about it, making sure her attention was split just enough to avoid looking like she was outright staring.

But she was definitely monitoring her movements the way a civilian monitors a wild animal that has wandered into their living room.

I stayed focused on the conversation.

And then I turned one more time.

And nearly yelped.

Cecilia's face was right in front of mine.

Too close. Far, far too close.

"W-wait, Cecilia—aren't you too close?" I stammered, instinctively leaning back.

"Hmm?" She blinked innocently, sipping her coffee like she wasn't currently violating the unspoken human contract of personal space.

"I was always here."

She smiled.

It had all the grace of Rachel's saintly smile, but where Rachel's held warmth, Cecilia's held nothing but pure, devious amusement.

Before I could react further, she shifted gears entirely, turning to Rose as if she hadn't just spent the last minute conducting an invasive social experiment.

"Anyway, Rose," she said, her tone dripping with mock familiarity, "it's been some time since I last saw you."

Rose froze mid-sip, like a small animal caught in the gaze of a very large, very hungry predator.

"Y-yes, Cecilia," Rose managed, her voice just a touch too high, like someone who had just been informed they were the main course at a very exclusive banquet.

"I didn't come to many social events."

"It's a pity," Cecilia mused, stirring her coffee lazily, like she wasn't enjoying this far too much.

"You were quite... interesting."

I instantly saw Rose shrink in on herself, shoulders tightening, fingers gripping her cup like it was the only thing tethering her to reality.

Something was off.

I had assumed Rose's wariness was simply due to knowing what Cecilia was like, but this? This was more than that.

Even for someone fully aware of Cecilia's true nature, this level of reaction seemed... excessive.

There was history here.

Cecilia, of course, noticed my glance and did absolutely nothing to hide her amusement.

Then, as if it were the most casual thing in the world, she turned to me.

"Anyway, Arthur Nightingale," she said smoothly, setting her empty cup down.

I felt immediate danger.

"You're somewhat interesting as well."

Somewhat.

Which meant she hadn't decided whether I was worth breaking yet.

She leaned forward slightly, her crimson eyes gleaming, her voice draped in silk and something just a little too sharp.

"A commoner in the most overpowered Class A of all time. And not just surviving—but learning so fast. Maybe..." she tapped her chin, tilting her head, "Even a genius, huh?"

I did not like where this was going.

"I'm doing my best," I managed, careful to keep my tone neutral.

Cecilia just smiled.

Then, in one fluid motion, she stood up, brushing imaginary dust from her uniform.

"I have to head back," she announced, stretching like a cat that had played with its food long enough.

"But this was a pleasant time."

Her smile widened, almost too genuine to be real.

"See you later, Rose. Arthur."

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving behind only the lingering scent of amusement and potential future disaster.