The Extra's Rise-Chapter 269: Rachel Creighton (2)

I woke up to warmth.

Not the harsh, burning kind of warmth that came from battle or overexertion, but something softer—plush blankets, gentle lighting, the faintest scent of lavender lingering in the air. The mattress beneath me was almost too comfortable, like sinking into clouds, and for a brief moment, my mind refused to function beyond acknowledging the simple fact that I was here, wherever here was.

My body felt heavy. Tired in a way that didn't just come from lack of rest but from complete depletion. Every muscle ached with that deep, stubborn exhaustion that refused to fade, the kind that made even the thought of movement seem like an impossible task.

I exhaled slowly, blinking up at the ceiling.

White. Ornate. Familiar, yet not.

I turned my head slightly, taking in my surroundings.

A large, well-furnished bedroom. The lighting was soft, golden. Heavy curtains blocked out the windows, but I could tell it was morning.

Something felt… off.

I shifted, attempting to sit up, only to feel a sharp resistance.

Clink.

I froze.

Slowly, I looked down.

My wrists.

Cuffed.

Thick, enchanted cuffs bound my hands together, the faint glow of a suppression rune humming against my skin.

I stared at them for a long moment, my mind taking an extra second to process why I was bound like some criminal before I realized—

Someone was next to me.

Curled up at my side, completely dead to the world, was Rachel.

Her golden hair spilled across the pillow, one hand lightly gripping my sleeve, her expression softer in sleep than I had ever seen it. She was still in her usual clothes—though slightly wrinkled, as if she had been here far longer than she was supposed to be.

For a moment, I simply looked at her.

Then, I shifted slightly.

Big mistake.

The moment I moved, she stirred—her brows furrowing, her fingers tightening around my sleeve as if she knew I was trying to escape.

Then, in the space of a breath, her eyes snapped open.

I barely had time to register the shock flashing across her face before she lunged, throwing her arms around me in a hug so tight it knocked the air from my lungs.

"Arthur!"

I stiffened, caught completely off guard.

She buried her face against my shoulder, gripping me like I might disappear if she let go. "You idiot— You absolute—! Do you have any idea—?!"

I blinked. "Rachel?"

Her grip tightened. "You were in a coma for a month—!"

I froze.

"What?"

I managed to calm her down—no small feat, considering she was clinging to me like a drowning woman to driftwood. Despite the awkwardness of the cuffs restricting my movement, I somehow managed to pat her head. It wasn't easy, but after some grumbling (mostly from her), Rachel finally took a deep breath, pulling herself together enough to explain everything.

The Bishop had escaped.

Not just that—the cult behind the Redknot Guild hadn't been exposed.

Which meant…

The Red Chalice Cult wasn't found.

I clenched my fists, a slow, simmering frustration building inside me.

I had wanted proof. Cold, undeniable evidence that would expose their existence.

But I had failed.

I took a breath, pushing down the frustration. There would be time to dwell on it later.

"What about Reika?" I asked. "Is she—"

Rachel's sapphire eyes narrowed.

And then—

I was suddenly on my back again, Rachel straddling me, her hands firmly planted on my chest.

I blinked.

She tilted her head, her lips curling into something that looked like a smile—but her eyes were most definitely not smiling.

"The first thing you ask about—other than your mission—is Reika?" she murmured.

I paused. "Well, I was just worried—"

"No."

We stared at each other.

A long, charged silence.

"And what," I said slowly, testing the cuffs again, "are these?"

Rachel blushed.

And then, to my growing horror, she twirled her hair.

I narrowed my eyes. "Stop acting coy."

She looked away, suddenly very interested in the ceiling. "I captured you."

I stared.

'What am I, a certain pocket monster?'

"I missed you sooo much!" Rachel suddenly threw herself onto me, burying her face into my neck. "And—and I saved you—so I deserve a reward!"

I stared at the ceiling, vaguely wondering if I was still in a coma.

'What the hell?'

Then, in the back of my mind, I heard her.

'You finally woke up,' Luna's voice murmured.

'Luna,' I said, a little desperately, 'do you have any idea what's going on?'

'Of course.'

'Oh, thank god. Explain, then—'

'Never in my immortal life,' Luna interrupted, 'have I seen something like this. Arthur. What in the stars did you do to the future Saintess of the world?'

'I didn't do anything,' I protested.

'Shut up,' Luna growled in my mind, her usually serene voice dripping with absolute betrayal. 'I can't believe this… to see the most beautiful soul in the world corrupted like this! If there was a god worth praying to, I would be on my knees right now!'

I closed my eyes, inhaling. Maybe if I opened them again, reality would have fixed itself.

I tried.

It didn't.

Instead, I found Rachel leaning in—too close. Her sapphire eyes shimmered with something far too amused for my comfort.

"Do you not like them?" she asked, tilting her head.

Follow current novℯls on ƒгeewёbnovel.com.

"Of course not. Take them off."

She pouted.

It was cute. Objectively. But unfortunately for her, I had built up a resistance to this kind of nonsense.

With a sigh that sounded way too exaggerated for someone who had just illegally detained me, she uncuffed my wrists.

I flexed my hands, finally free, exhaling as the weight of the suppression runes faded.

"Sorry," Rachel murmured.

I blinked.

She wasn't pouting now. There was no teasing lilt to her voice, no playful smirk. She looked… almost guilty.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, softer this time. "So don't—don't hate me, okay?"

I stared at her for a moment.

"I couldn't hate you for this," I said honestly.

Rachel froze. Then, in the blink of an eye, her mood flipped back to pure joy.

Her entire face lit up, eyes gleaming like I had just handed her the moon on a silver platter.

"A-Ah! Then I need to say sorry properly!" she stammered.

I barely had time to process what that meant before she straightened, cleared her throat, and proudly announced:

"You can touch me."

A pause.

A long, dangerous pause.

She pointed just below her chin, tapping her skin lightly. "Here~♡."

"No."

"Why!" she whined, throwing her hands up like I had just denied her a once-in-a-lifetime wish. "I mean, you like me! And—and isn't it desirable?"

I sighed, placing my hands firmly on her shoulders.

"Rachel," I said, looking her straight in the eyes, "I like you the same way I like the three other girls. But there's an order to this."

Her pout deepened. "Am I not first?"

"Not that kind of order," I muttered, rubbing my temples.

Luna let out something between a strangled sigh and a groan of absolute despair.

'This is it,' Luna muttered, voice dripping with weary resignation. 'This is how my faith in humanity dies. How about we go back to that plan of seducing every powerful woman?'

'Luna.'

'Think about it,' she continued, completely ignoring me. 'You even managed to turn a Saintess into… what do you call it? Ah. Yandere. I'm sure normal girls would be even easier to corrupt.'

'You are so not helpful.'

Meanwhile, in the real world, Rachel was still sitting in my lap, fidgeting.

And that was dangerous.

Not because she looked shy—no, that wasn't the issue. The issue was that I knew her, and Rachel Creighton wasn't the type to fidget. If she was acting nervous, it was either a prelude to something ridiculous, or she was about to drop information that would make my life significantly worse.

"Arthur," she murmured, her fingers twisting in the fabric of her dress, "I just… want you so badly. But I don't want to annoy you."

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Thought about saying something rational. Decided against it.

She pressed on.

"I'm sorry for cuffing you."

I squinted at her.

"I'm sorry for keeping you in the Creighton estate for a month."

I blinked.

"A month?"

"And…" she hesitated, glancing away, "only allowing your family to visit you."

My brain stalled.

"What? What about others?"

Rachel twiddled her fingers, suddenly very interested in the embroidery on her sleeve.

"Well…" she started, drawing out the word like she was about to admit to accidentally breaking a vase, not imprisoning me for an entire month.

"They tried to visit," she muttered.

There was a beat of silence.

I exhaled sharply, rubbing my temple with my now-uncuffed hands. "Rachel," I said slowly, "what exactly did you do?"

She still refused to meet my eyes.

I groaned.