The Cursed Extra: Bloodline of Sacrifice-Chapter 126: Freshers Party

The hallway was quiet, lined with polished marble floors. Each door bore a sleek, metallic number plate.

"Room 88," Caspian muttered to himself, staring at the silver plate to a wooden door.

With a sigh, he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The room wasn't what he had expected.

It wasn't just comfortable—it was luxurious.

The first thing that caught his eye was the massive smart television mounted on the wall.

Below it, a sleek wooden cabinet housed an arcane interface.

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To his right stood a study table.

Next to the table, shelves lined the wall, empty.

But what stood out the most was the balcony.

Curious, Caspian walked over and pushed the glass door open.

The afternoon breeze greeted him, cool.

The dormitory overlooked a sprawling field of greenery of well designed tree—a serene contrast to the academy's towering buildings in the distance.

The academy's main building loomed proudly beyond the treeline.

"Feels too good to be true," Caspian muttered, resting his forearms on the railing.

The room was... peaceful. It reminded him of the places he had read about—.

A place that felt safe.

For a moment, Caspian allowed himself to relax.

The tension that had gripped him since arriving at the academy began to ease.

But peace never lasted long.

He closed the balcony door and moved toward the bed.

It was large, far too large for one person—soft cushions pressed neatly against the wooden headboard.

Caspian lay down, hands resting behind his head as he stared at the ceiling.

His mind wandered.

The Academy Arc…

He knew what was coming. He'd read this part of the novel—the academic arc.

A series of intertwined events that would shift the academy's balance of power.

There were moments of lighthearted camaraderie, yes, but the deeper undertone of manipulation, politics, and rising tension made this arc far from simple.

Several key events stood out in his mind—

"None of this concerns me," Caspian muttered to himself. "Just keep your head down, get stronger, and move on."

His gaze drifted toward the wall. He thought of Lyrius—.

"Do your best, Lyrius." Caspian exhaled deeply, closing his eyes.

"Hey, Caspian…"

The voice barely registered at first.

"Hey... Get up."

The words stabbed into his half-conscious mind, dragging him from the comforting sleep.

Caspian's eyes shot open.

"What the fu—"

His words cut off as his gaze locked onto Lyrius, who stood beside his bed—fully dressed, sharp, and composed as if he hadn't just shattered Caspian's peacefull morning.

BAM!

Before Lyrius could react, Caspian's fist shot forward, striking him square in the chest.

The impact sent Lyrius stumbling backward, his body crashing onto the wooden floor.

"What the hell is wrong with you!?" Caspian barked, still half-dazed.

Lyrius coughed as he propped himself up on his elbows, wincing. "I was just waking you up..."

"And why the hell would you do that!?" Caspian shot back.

Lyrius groaned, still rubbing his ribs. "Because you're going to be late for the fresher's party. It's in thirty minutes."

Caspian blinked, still processing the words. "You're kidding…"

"Nope." Lyrius sat up, voice flat. "It's in the main hall. Everyone's going,"

"Ha! That's why you woke me up?" Caspian scoffed. "You fool."

For a moment, the two locked eyes. Caspian's irritation simmered beneath the surface, and Lyrius.

Lyrius had been around Caspian long enough to know a few things:

1. Never wake Caspian from his sleep.

2. Caspian often acted without thinking—and nine out of ten times, those impulsive actions worked in his favor.

3. When annoyed, Caspian had the emotional range of a lit fuse.

And right now?

He had broken rule number one.

Lyrius swallowed hard. "Well... you're up now." He stood, brushing himself off.

"Yeah... Yeah, I'm up." Caspian muttered, rubbing his face.

His muscles still ached from yesterday's travel.

"And hey…" Caspian paused, voice calmer now. "Sorry about the punch."

Lyrius scoffed lightly. "Yeah, sure. Just... come down whenever you're ready."

With that, Lyrius grabbed his blazer and walked out.

.

Caspian exhaled deeply, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

His hair was a mess— His eyes, still heavy from sleep, looked like they belonged to someone twice his age.

He traced the faint bags beneath them with his fingertips.

"I should probably fix this..." he muttered.

He turned the faucet, letting the cold water run before splashing his face. The icy chill bit into his skin, shocking him fully awake.

As he reached for a towel, his mind wandered back to what Lyrius had said.

The fresher's party.

It wasn't the event itself that bothered him—it was what it symbolized. These sorts of gatherings were always about status, alliances, and hidden agendas. The nobles would circle like vultures, assessing power and influence. Caspian knew they'd see him as an anomaly—a commoner with a talent that didn't fit their rigid hierarchy.

He chuckled bitterly. "Can't wait."

Still, despite his reluctance, Caspian knew skipping the party wasn't an option.

"Let's get this over with…" he muttered to himself as he reached for his shirt.

____

(POV: Fianna Redmond)

The mainhall gleamed under the glow of enchanted chandeliers.

Fianna stood near one of the decorated pillars, swirling a glass of apple juice in her hand—not that she was drinking it.

She had barely touched her glass since the party began.

Her gaze kept flicking to her right.

Vynesaa.

The so-called elven princess, standing just a few feet away.

Fianna's fingers curled tightly around her glass.

"This bitch danced with Caspian in that video," she thought bitterly.

She remembered it well—The way Caspian's hand had rested on Vynesaa's waist—it still annoyed her.

But tonight...

"Tonight's different."

Fianna's gaze lowered to the folded note in her other hand—her plan.

A perfect sequence of steps designed to corner Caspian into dancing with her.

Not by force—but through irresistible charm.

Her lips curled in a confident smirk.

_____

(POV: Vynesaa El'Leather)

Vynesaa stood near the buffet table, her hand loosely holding a glass.

She glanced to her left.

Fianna.

That insufferable girl was still standing there, acting sweet and innocent. But Vynesaa knew better.

"This bitch…" Vynesaa muttered under her breath.

When we reached at academy — caspian was talking to her Laughing with her, walking beside her—like they were some destined pair.

Vynesaa's fingers tapped against her glass.

"Today... I'll apologise."

Yes, that was her first goal—to apologise for attacking Caspian during the match. She hated to admit it, but guilt had gnawed at her for days.

But more than that...

"Tonight, I'll kill him with my charm."

She was determined to erase that damned banquet memory—the one where she had danced with Caspian but felt nothing special. Tonight, she'd make him remember her.

Her eyes drifted back toward Fianna.

'Oh! God why does she has to be this beautiful,'

"Whatever.....Just don't get in my way…"

Vynesaa took a sip from her glass and sighed, turning her gaze across the room.

Where was Caspian?

The event had started over twenty minutes ago.

The school president had already finished his speech—a dull, drawn-out lecture about honor and responsibility.

Caspian should've been here by now; it was mandatory for S-Class students to attend.

"Don't tell me he's trying to skip this."

She scanned the crowd again, eyes flicking past nobles, professors, and unfamiliar faces.

No Caspian.

"Where are you?"

_____

(POV: Darian Vael)

"Haha, yes, yes... I know... I know..."

Darian adjusted his collar with a smug grin, flashing his sharpest smile at the girl standing before him.

"You're right. I'm definitely the most handsome guy here." He chuckled, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair.

The girl giggled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You're so confident," she said, her voice sweet and warm.

"Of course," Darian grinned. "Confidence comes naturally when you're this good-looking."

The party buzzed around them—students dancing, nobles socializing, and that irritating string quartet playing their fourth identical-sounding song.

But Darian barely noticed any of it.

'Tonight's perfect.'

Everything was going great. He had attention, charm, and the spotlight—exactly where he belonged.

Until...

The doors swung open.

And in walked Caspian.

Darian's smile froze.

"No way..."

Caspian stood at the entrance, still adjusting his cufflinks.

His black attire fit him perfectly—a tailored suit embroidered with faint silver streaks that caught the light. His white hair, usually messy, was styled loosely, framing his sharp yet delicate features.

He wasn't just handsome.

He was... beautiful.

Too beautiful. Almost unfairly so.

"Wait... no... no way... He looks too... feminine... right?" Darian tried to reason with himself.

But that didn't matter. The reaction from the room spoke louder than his thoughts.

Heads turned—girls whispered to each other, giggling and pointing. Even some of the guys exchanged murmurs.

The girl Darian had been talking to?

Gone.

She was already halfway across the room, moving toward Caspian like a moth to a flame.

"What the fuck?!" Darian's mind screamed.

His fingers twitched against his glass, barely stopping himself from squeezing too hard.

"This bastard... He's stealing the show without even trying."

Darian's frustration boiled over.

"I've got to beat the shit out of him."

For no particular reason—just out of sheer principle.