Extra's Revenge: Reincarnated As A Slave-Chapter 76: Fall Of The Desgarron Family (Part 4)

The momentum had shifted entirely in favor of House Desgarron.

Fernand pressed his advantage against the retreating Sunlit Order members, his crystalline blade weaving through their defenses with masterful precision.

Beside him, Kilian’s runic gauntlets hammered down another attacker, the impact creating a shockwave that sent two more stumbling backward.

"They’re breaking completely!" Roland shouted, his hammer Artifact crackling with energy as he prepared another devastating strike.

Serena’s face twisted with desperation as she watched her forces crumble.

Three members were dead now, five more severely wounded, and the rest being systematically pushed back by the Desgarron staff’s superior coordination.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

The infection should have weakened them more, the ambush should have caught them off guard completely.

’Where did we miscalculate?’ she thought frantically, her whip Artifact barely deflecting a strike from Cynthia’s blade.

Julius clutched his wounded shoulder, his primary Artifact destroyed. His eyes burned with impotent rage as he was forced further back.

"This can’t be happening! We planned everything!"

"Plans mean nothing against proper training!" Fernand declared, advancing relentlessly. "You’ve lost, terrorists. Surrender now, and Lord Desgarron might show mercy."

Dreyfus, still sheltered behind the protective barrier maintained by the remaining staff members, felt the infection’s grip loosening slightly. The Artifacts Mariam had distributed earlier were doing their work, buying him precious time. His tactical mind was already racing ahead.

’Once we secure victory here, I’ll have them interrogated. Find out who their Aether backer is. This attack will not go unanswered.’

Beatrice squeezed his hand, relief evident in her eyes. "We’re going to make it, aren’t we?"

"Yes," Dreyfus replied, allowing himself a small smile. "Thanks to our loyal—"

Augustus suddenly gasped. "Father, look out!"

But the warning came a fraction too late.

Logan moved.

The mustached man had been standing protectively beside Augustus throughout the entire battle, his shield Artifact active, his posture defensive and loyal.

No one had been watching him closely—why would they?

He was Logan, decades of faithful service, the man who had rushed to check on Augustus first, who had led them toward the safehouse, who had positioned himself as the young master’s final line of defense.

His shield flickered and vanished.

In the same fluid motion, Logan’s hand shot to his belt, withdrawing an Artifact none of them had seen before—a curved dagger that gleamed with a sickly purple light. The blade moved with practiced precision, faster than Augustus could react, faster than anyone could intervene.

The dagger plunged into Mariam’s back.

The elderly head maid had been maintaining the protective pendant, the Artifact that had been shielding them and weakening the infection’s effects.

Her eyes widened in shock and betrayal as Logan twisted the blade.

The pendant’s light sputtered and died.

"M-Mariam!" Beatrice screamed.

Logan withdrew the dagger and immediately struck again, this time slashing across the throat of another staff member—Gerard, who had been maintaining part of the defensive barrier. The man fell without a sound, blood spraying across the courtyard stones.

"Logan?!" Dreyfus’s voice was raw with disbelief. "What are you—"

But Logan wasn’t finished.

He spun with lethal grace, his movements those of a trained assassin rather than a loyal steward. The purple-gleamed dagger found Kilian’s exposed side as the man was focused on the external threat. The master of grounds gasped, his runic gauntlets flickering as he collapsed to his knees.

"No! NO!" Augustus stumbled backward, his mind refusing to process what he was witnessing.

In the span of three heartbeats, Logan had eliminated three of their most vital defenders. The protective formation shattered. The defensive barrier collapsed completely. And worst of all, without Mariam’s pendant, the infection’s effects came roaring back with renewed vengeance.

Dreyfus felt his legs nearly give out as weakness flooded through him. Beatrice cried out, clutching her chest.

Augustus fell to one knee, gasping for breath.

Logan stepped back, putting distance between himself and the Desgarron family. His face—that loyal, trustworthy face that had been a constant presence in their household for decades—now wore an expression of cold satisfaction.

"You should see your faces," he said quietly, his voice completely different now. Gone was the deferential tone, the slight nervousness, the humble demeanor. What remained was ice and steel. "Decades I waited for this moment. Decades of playing the perfect servant."

The silhouette form suddenly materialized around him, the same shadowy concealment the other Sunlit Order members possessed. But his was different—more stable, more refined. This was not a recently acquired ability. He had possessed it for a long time.

"Logan..." Fernand’s voice shook with rage and grief as he stared at Mariam’s fallen body. "You bastard! She trusted you! We all trusted you!"

"Your trust was your weakness," Logan replied, examining the purple dagger in his hand. The blade seemed to pulse with a life of its own. "Just as your pride has always been your weakness. The great Desgarron Household, so certain of their superiority that they never thought to question the loyal dog at their feet."

Serena’s expression transformed from despair to fierce hope. "Logan! You came through!"

"Of course," he said, not taking his eyes off the Desgarrons. "Though I had hoped to avoid revealing myself so early. But you were all performing so poorly, I had no choice."

Julius, despite his wounds, laughed bitterly. "We told you the plan would work! The old fox finally shows his fangs!"

The remaining Desgarron staff members—now only nine strong—repositioned themselves desperately, but they were in disarray. Three of their strongest had fallen. Their protective formation was broken. And worst of all, the infection was ravaging the Desgarron family completely now that Mariam’s pendant had been destroyed.

Cyrus and Cynthia moved to attack Logan, but he was ready for them. His dagger met their blades, and to their shock, his skill matched theirs. He wasn’t just some lucky assassin—he was a trained warrior who had been hiding his true abilities for decades.

"You think your coordination impresses me?" Logan taunted, deflecting their synchronized strikes with contemptuous ease. "I’ve watched you train since you were children. I know every pattern, every weakness, every tell."

He proved his words by exploiting a gap in Cyrus’s defense that even the twin himself didn’t know existed.

The purple dagger carved a line across Cyrus’s arm, and the man cried out as some kind of poison immediately began spreading from the wound.

"Brother!" Cynthia’s attention wavered for just a moment.

Logan struck her in the ribs, the same poison now coursing through her veins.

Both twins fell back, their movements already becoming sluggish.

"Poisoned blades," Fernand snarled. "Of course a snake would use poison."

"I use whatever tools are necessary," Logan replied calmly. "Unlike you noble fools who think honor matters in a real fight."

The Sunlit Order, seeing their opening, surged forward again. With Logan now fighting alongside them and the Desgarron defenses in shambles, the tide had reversed completely. What had been a rout in favor of the Desgarron Family became a desperate last stand in mere moments.

Dreyfus tried to activate his defensive ring again, but his hands were shaking too badly. The infection had spread too far without the pendant’s suppression.

He could barely stand, let alone fight.

"Augustus," he gasped, trying to push his son toward what remained of their guards. "Run... you have to..."

"I’m not leaving you!" Augustus cried, though he himself could barely remain upright.

Logan watched this display with something that might have been pity in his eyes.

"Touching. The great Lord Desgarron, reduced to a trembling wretch. Do you understand now? Do you comprehend how powerless you truly are?"

"Why?" Beatrice demanded, tears streaming down her face. "We treated you well. We trusted you. Why betray us?"

"Treated me well?" Logan’s laugh was harsh and bitter. "You treated me like property. Like a useful tool to be maintained but never truly valued. None of you even knew my real name."

"Your... real name?" Augustus whispered.

"Logan was the name you gave me when you bought me at auction thirty-five years ago," he said, his voice dripping with venom. "Bought me like cattle, then congratulated yourselves on being such generous masters because you didn’t beat me. Do you want to know what my mother called me before she died in the slums your family’s policies created?"

He stepped closer, his silhouette form rippling with emotion.

"It doesn’t matter now. That boy died long ago. I am Logan, the faithful servant who spent decades waiting for the perfect moment to destroy you. And here we are."

Fernand tried to rally the remaining staff. "Protect the family! We can still—"

"You can still die with them," Logan interrupted, gesturing to the Sunlit Order members who now completely surrounded them.

"There’s no escape. The safehouse you were heading toward? I told them about it weeks ago. Every route you could have taken, I reported. Every security measure you trusted, I helped disable. This entire night has been orchestrated from within."

Dreyfus felt something break inside him—not just physically from the infection, but mentally.

The betrayal cut deeper than any wound. Logan had been there for everything. Every family meeting, every strategic discussion, every private moment. How much had he reported to the enemy? How thoroughly had they been compromised?

"You’re a Cursed One," Dreyfus stated, the pieces finally falling into place. "You always were. The infection doesn’t affect you the same way because you’ve been inoculated somehow. That’s why you could move freely while we weakened."

"Clever to the end," Logan acknowledged. "Though you’re only half right. I am a Cursed One, yes. But the infection does affect me—I’m simply more resistant due to... preparations. Even now, I can feel it eating at me. But I’ll gladly suffer this pain if it means watching your family fall."

The remaining Desgarron staff fought desperately, but they were outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and their charges were too weak to fight.

Fernand’s crystalline blade shattered against the combined assault of four Sunlit Order members. Roland’s hammer fell from nerveless fingers as another poisoned blade found its mark.

One by one, the defenders fell.

Augustus watched in horror as the people who had protected him all his life were cut down.

His father could barely stand.

His mother wept openly.

And the man he had thought of almost as an uncle stood watching their destruction with cold satisfaction.

"This is just the beginning," Logan said softly, almost gently, as if he were tucking Augustus into bed after a childhood nightmare. "The fall of the Desgarron Household will echo through the kingdom. And I will ensure that everyone knows it was one of your own loyal servants who brought you down."

He raised his purple dagger, its sickly light reflecting off his eyes.

"Now then, shall we finish this?"

[A/N: I know you all wondering where Rey is. Just be a bit more patient. It’s almost time...]