Don't Want to Be Ordinary Even Though I'm an Extra Character-Chapter 84: [83] A Dangerous Game

- Third-Person Perspective -

The meeting with the Marquis was finally set. In just one week, Arkan would depart for Arleon’s territory, and the journey from Lawrence would take three days.

The decision was made, the strategy was prepared—but something about this situation felt off. The leak of information had forced his opponents to change their approach.

This could mean one of two things:

They had found another way to achieve their goal. They were simply waiting for a better opportunity to strike him down.

Arkan let out a quiet sigh, adjusting his black leather gloves.

"No matter what happens, I’ll face it head-on."

He would not be traveling alone.

Waiting for him outside his mansion were two familiar figures.

Rainer stood tall, his expression as serious as ever, his hand resting on the shaft of his spear. His blonde hair was slightly tousled by the wind, but his sharp gaze reflected nothing but confidence.

Beside him, Florence looked relaxed—almost as if she were merging with the shadows. Her black maid uniform was far from attention-grabbing, yet concealed beneath it were hidden daggers and the lethal agility to kill a man in mere seconds. Her cold eyes flickered toward Arkan, silently waiting for orders.

"So, it’s just the three of us?" Rainer finally asked, a hint of doubt in his tone.

Arkan adjusted the traveling cloak draped over his shoulders and smirked slightly.

"Yes. I want to keep things simple. The more people we bring, the more obvious we become."

"But that also makes us more vulnerable," Florence murmured, crossing her arms.

Arkan simply shrugged. "I’d rather have two people I trust than a dozen that could betray me."

At that, Florence smirked, while Rainer exhaled sharply.

"Alright then," Rainer relented, shaking his head. "At least this trip won’t be boring."

Arkan glanced up at the sky—the sun had begun to rise, signaling that it was time to leave.

Three days of travel.

Three days before a meeting that could change everything.

And who knew what obstacles awaited them on the road ahead?

###

The journey to Arleon’s lands was uneventful—no bandit ambushes, no suspicious watchers, no traps along the road.

And that only made one thing clearer.

Marquis Arleon had changed his approach.

He had no intention of taking down Arkan on the road.

They soon arrived at a city that Arkan knew well—the very place he had once stayed in months ago while establishing his wine business with the Marquis.

Back then, this city felt like an opportunity.

Now?

It felt like a battlefield disguised as luxury.

As he rode through the grand streets, past rows of towering buildings and noble estates, Arkan found himself exhaling slowly.

"Why did our relationship become so full of suspicion?"

But the answer was simple.

Politics.

A man who craved power would never be satisfied.

That was Marquis Arleon.

And in some ways, Arkan could understand him.

After all, he too pursued power—but for a different purpose and in a different way.

On paper, they were still allies.

But reality had already proven otherwise.

The mansion gates loomed before them, just as grand and imposing as Arkan remembered.

Nothing had changed.

The same high iron gates, the same stern-faced guards, the same head butler greeted them with the same formal expression as before.

The elderly butler gave a polite bow.

"Welcome back, Lord Lawrence. The Marquis awaits you in the banquet hall."

Arkan’s gaze lingered on the old man for a moment.

His movements were calm, but... something felt different.

Florence, standing beside him, had already noticed it too.

Her sharp eyes discreetly scanned the surroundings, picking up on small details that most people would overlook.

Rainer, meanwhile, seemed relaxed, but his right hand never left the handle of his spear—a habit ingrained by years of battle.

Arkan gave a slow nod.

"Then let’s not keep him waiting."

With steady steps, he crossed the threshold of the mansion—walking into a meeting that could very well be the most dangerous one yet.

###

The massive doors creaked open as the butler pushed them aside, revealing the grand banquet hall beyond. Golden chandeliers cast a warm glow over the long dining table, its polished surface reflecting the flickering light of the candles.

Yet, despite the grandeur of the setting, only one seat was occupied—at the far end of the table.

Arkan took a step forward, but as soon as his eyes locked onto the person sitting there, his steps slowed slightly.

That wasn’t Marquis Arleon.

Instead, seated before him was a young woman with long silver hair, dressed in an elegant black gown that starkly contrasted with her pale skin. Her emerald-green eyes were piercing—sharp and filled with the kind of calculating intelligence that immediately put Arkan on guard.

"Who is she?"

Arkan quickly scanned the room, searching for any sign of the Marquis, but there was none.

"Welcome, Baron Lawrence," the young woman spoke. Her voice was soft, yet carried a confidence far beyond her apparent age.

Arkan did not sit down. Instead, he remained standing, his eyes locked onto hers. "You are not Marquis Arleon."

The girl smiled slightly, unfazed by his response. "Very perceptive. No, I am not my father."

A chill crept up Arkan’s spine.

"Her father?"

"Where is the Marquis?" he asked, his gaze carefully analyzing every detail about the girl—her posture, expressions, and even the way she spoke.

She let out a quiet sigh, leaning back in her chair with an air of casual ease.

"My father is... indisposed," she replied cryptically. "I have taken over the family’s affairs."

Arkan narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

The girl’s smile did not waver, but there was something deep hidden behind her expression—something dangerous.

"You’ll find out soon enough, Baron Lawrence," she mused. "For now, let’s just say that Marquis Arleon has... retired from politics."

Arkan’s mind worked quickly.

"Retired?"

That wasn’t a word used lightly in politics. Especially not for someone like Marquis Arleon.

Something had happened.

Something big.

And for the first time, Arkan felt that he hadn’t just stepped into the Marquis’ domain.

He had walked into an entirely new battlefield.

###

There was something strange about this situation.

Arkan watched the girl before him closely.

There was no mention of her in Destiny Warrior.

"Who is she?"

Had his presence in this world altered the original timeline? Or had she always existed, but was never relevant to the main story?

Regardless of the reason, Arkan knew one thing—he couldn’t act recklessly.

He had to understand who this girl was, what she wanted, and, most importantly—why she had taken her father’s place.

Taking a slow breath, Arkan calmed his thoughts. This was no longer just a political meeting.

This was a battle of wits.

Stepping further into the room, Arkan’s eyes swept the area before returning to her.

The girl looked young—perhaps his age or a little younger. Long golden hair cascaded over her shoulders, and sharp, hawk-like eyes observed him with intense curiosity.

Her lips curled into a subtle smirk—not friendly, yet not outright hostile.

She was testing him.

Instead of speaking immediately, Arkan let the silence stretch, waiting to see who would break it first.

The girl regarded him for a moment before letting out an amused sigh.

"Ah... I thought you’d start asking questions right away," she mused, resting her chin on her palm. "But it seems like you’re the observant type."

Arkan raised an eyebrow. "Should I be asking questions? I thought you’d prefer to introduce yourself first."

She chuckled softly. "Good. I don’t like men who are too predictable."

With graceful ease, she rose from her chair and strode toward him with a slow, measured pace.

"Celeste Arleon," she said smoothly, her emerald gaze never leaving his. "The only daughter of Marquis Arleon... or should I say, the former Marquis?"

Arkan kept his expression neutral.

"So," he said calmly, "Marquis Arleon is no longer in power?"

Celeste’s smile widened, her voice carrying a playful edge.

"Perhaps he is, perhaps he isn’t," she mused. "It depends on your perspective."

There was a layer of meaning in her words. She wasn’t just avoiding the question—she was testing him.

Arkan sighed, leaning back slightly. "My perspective is quite simple," he replied. "I was invited here to speak with Marquis Arleon. Instead, I find someone else in his place. So let me ask directly—who is truly in charge now?"

Celeste’s eyes gleamed, her interest in him clearly growing.

"Hmm... That’s something you’ll have to figure out yourself, Baron Lawrence."

Arkan remained silent, analyzing her every move.

This girl was far from naive.

She wasn’t just some noble’s daughter.

Celeste Arleon was someone who had played politics for years. She had grown up in the shadows of power, learning its secrets and its dangers.

She was used to manipulating people.

And right now, she was trying to pull him into her game.

Celeste casually walked to the large wooden table in the center of the room and sat on its edge, crossing her legs. Her fingers twirled a strand of golden hair, her gaze filled with amusement.

"You know, Arkan..." she murmured.

"I find you very interesting."

Arkan didn’t respond immediately.

Instead, he allowed the weight of her words to linger in the air before finally speaking.

"In what way?" he asked, his tone calm and controlled.

Celeste’s smirk deepened.

"In many ways," she admitted.

"For example..." she continued, her tone lowering slightly, "how someone like you managed to amass a fortune so quickly..."

"...how you rebuilt a ruined territory..."

"...and, most importantly..." She leaned forward slightly, her emerald eyes locking onto his with undeniable intrigue.

"How all of that happened so fast."

Arkan held her gaze, his face betraying nothing.

"So she’s been watching me closely."

She smiled, as if sensing his thoughts.

"Don’t think I haven’t noticed," she said, her voice dropping into a playful whisper.

"I know exactly what you’ve been doing, Baron Lawrence."

Arkan remained unshaken.

He simply lifted an eyebrow. "Oh? And what do you think I’ve been doing?"

Celeste let out a light chuckle, her voice dripping with amusement.

"Do you want me to tell you?" she asked, her tone teasing.

"Or..."

She leaned in slightly, her emerald eyes sparkling with undeniable mischief.

"Would you rather admit it yourself?"