The Extra's Rise-Chapter 359: End of Inter-Academy Festival (4)

Cecilia loved Arthur.

It was a truth she had finally surrendered to completely, an absolute fact that her heart would no longer allow her to deny. The realization had crept up on her gradually, then all at once—like the dawn breaking after a long night of resistance.

She loved him with a ferocity that surprised even herself. The mere thought of him being harmed ignited a rage within her that burned hotter than any combat mana she had ever channeled. She loved him to an extent that frightened her; there was nothing she wouldn't sacrifice for his wellbeing, no line she wouldn't cross.

This truth made the quiet moments like today—the final day of the Inter-Academy Festival—all the more precious. Walking beside him through the festival grounds, watching his face light up at the simplest things, feeling the occasional brush of his arm against hers—these small joys had become the highlights of her existence.

"So don't annoy me right now when I am in a good mood," Cecilia said, her voice low and dangerous as she leaned against the ancient stone wall of a secluded courtyard. Her crimson eyes gleamed with barely contained power as she stared into the shadows before her. Arthur was waiting with the others, having no idea she'd slipped away for this unwelcome meeting.

"That was far from my intention, Your Highness," a voice replied, so silent it might have been the night breeze itself. Her senses prickled as the man materialized from the darkness, dropping to one knee before her with practiced efficiency.

Commander Mathias of the Nighthawks—the elite shadow operatives of the Slatemark Empire and one of the most formidable forces on the continent. Even kneeling, his presence carried an unmistakable weight of lethal capability.

"Why did Father send you?" Cecilia demanded, eyes narrowing. "Don't you dare lie to me."

Her crimson mana flared involuntarily, the physical manifestation of her Gift of Witchcraft illuminating the courtyard with an eerie glow. While her power posed no genuine threat to the Commander—a man who had survived three decades of impossible missions and palace intrigues—it served as a pointed reminder of the status gap between them. Even the mighty Commander knelt before the Imperial Princess.

"He sent me here because of Arthur Nightingale," Mathias answered with dispassionate honesty, his obsidian eyes revealing nothing.

Cecilia's brows furrowed deeply as her mana swelled in response, casting twisted shadows across the ancient stonework. The temperature around them dropped several degrees.

"He is off limits, Commander," she stated, each word precise and deadly. "I don't care who it is... if anybody hurts him... I'll kill them... even if it's the Emperor himself."

The threat of patricide—of regicide—hung in the air between them, all the more chilling for the absolute conviction behind it. Not a boast or exaggeration, but a simple statement of fact.

Commander Mathias regarded her coolly, his expression carved from marble. "I wasn't tasked with hurting him, Your Highness," he clarified, his tone neutral. "His Majesty is merely interested in Arthur as the recipient of two very high-level civilian honors from different continents. Such recognition is... uncommon."

Something in his tone made Cecilia study him more carefully. The tension in her shoulders eased fractionally, her mana receding like a tide drawing back from shore.

"Then what do you think of him?" she asked, having calmed considerably but still watchful.

"Exceptional," the Commander replied without hesitation. "His way of fighting is the most ingenious I've witnessed in decades, although his overall talent seems somewhat lacking compared to prodigies like Lucifer or yourself."

"He will make up for it," Cecilia said with absolute certainty. "No... more than that. What Arthur lacks in raw talent, he compensates for with insight and determination that even Lucifer cannot match."

Something almost like amusement flickered across the Commander's features, there and gone in an instant. "If Arthur wasn't a person of importance to Your Highness, I would have considered him to succeed me in the future."

Cecilia's eyebrows rose slightly. "Very high praise. That's rare, coming from you," she observed, tilting her head. "Mathias, do you wish to scout him?"

"I believe he would fit better with the Nighthawks than the Imperial Knights," Mathias admitted, his tone contemplative. "Though I doubt even the Nighthawks could contain someone like him for long."

The statement hung between them—an acknowledgment of Arthur's potential that went beyond mere combat prowess or political usefulness. In a world of carefully cultivated talents and bloodline advantages, Arthur Nightingale represented something different. Something unpredictable.

Cecilia pushed away from the wall, her crimson dress catching the moonlight as she moved. "You're right about that," she said, a genuine smile softening her features. "No one can contain Arthur—not the Nighthawks, not the Academy, not even the Empire itself."

Mathias remained kneeling, his disciplined posture revealing nothing of his thoughts. "Understood, Your Highness," he said with practiced deference. "May I be permitted to meet Arthur personally?"

Cecilia paused, her crimson eyes narrowing slightly. "You may," she conceded after a moment, "But are you planning to test him?"

"Yes," he replied without hesitation, his honesty as sharp as the blade concealed at his hip.

"Don't," Cecilia said, the single word carrying the weight of an imperial decree. "I don't want you to."

"I apologize, but that is not up to Your Highness," Mathias responded, his voice still respectful yet unyielding. The temperature around them seemed to drop further as Cecilia's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Such an annoying bastard," Cecilia cursed under her breath, fingers twitching with barely suppressed crimson energy. "You know you will be serving me soon enough anyway, right? Father won't live forever."

"Perhaps," Mathias replied, his face an unreadable mask.

"Anyway, you are dismissed," Cecilia waved her hand dismissively, biting her lower lip in frustration. Mathias bowed his head before melting back into the shadows as effortlessly as he had appeared.

Today was proving to be an increasingly annoying day for her.

_______________________________

The final fireworks of the Inter-Academy Festival exploded above the island in brilliant cascades of color and light, illuminating the night sky with ephemeral constellations of human making. I stood alone on one of the academy's many balconies, watching as crimson, azure, and gold patterns bloomed and faded against the darkness.

The day had been chaotic, as most days seemed to be lately. The four girls had maintained a delicate truce throughout most of the festival activities, though I hadn't missed the subtle territorial maneuvers and possessive glances exchanged whenever they thought I wasn't looking. Only Clana had provided some semblance of normal companionship, her half-lidded eyes and sardonic comments keeping me grounded amid the storm of noble attention.

Now, as the crowds dispersed and the festival grounds emptied, I found myself grateful for this moment of solitude. The tournament was over, the celebrations concluded, and tomorrow would bring a return to the regular rhythms of academy life—although "regular" had taken on an entirely new meaning since my unexpected rise through the ranks.

"Impressive display," a voice remarked from behind me, materializing from the shadows as if born from them.

I didn't startle—an improvement over my former self. Instead, I turned calmly to face the newcomer, though my senses were instantly on high alert. Standing a few paces away was a figure I recognized immediately, despite never having met him in person.

"Commander Mathias of the Nighthawks," I said, keeping my tone neutral. "I wasn't aware you were attending the festival."

The man's eyebrows rose slightly, the only indication of surprise on his otherwise impassive face. "You recognize me. Interesting." He stepped forward, moonlight revealing his features more clearly—the silver at his temples, the network of faint scars visible along his jawline, the eyes that held decades of secrets.

"Your reputation precedes you," I replied carefully, not revealing that I knew far more about him than I should. The knowledge from the novel I'd read in my previous life gave me an advantage I couldn't afford to expose.

Mathias studied me with a clinical detachment that reminded me of being dissected in a laboratory. "Her Highness speaks highly of you."

"Cecilia exaggerates," I said, deliberately using her name without title—a small test to gauge his reaction.

Nothing. Not even a flicker of disapproval. Impressive control.

"I don't believe she does," he countered, moving to stand beside me at the balcony rail. "Two high-level civilian honors from different continents. Fifth rank at Mythos Academy despite being a first-year. The personal interest of both the Magnus and the Headmistress." He paused. "And now, the affection of an Imperial Princess."

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I remained silent, refusing to confirm or deny anything. The night air felt suddenly heavy with more than just the lingering smoke from the fireworks.

"I've come to see for myself what makes Arthur Nightingale so special," Mathias continued, his voice deceptively casual. "Perhaps a small demonstration?"

Before I could respond, he shifted—a subtle change in stance that rang warning bells in my mind. This was it—the "test" that would determine how the Nighthawks and, by extension, the Emperor himself would view me going forward.

"I don't think—" I began, but my words were cut short as a wave of oppressive energy suddenly washed over the balcony.

Mathias reacted instantly, moving in front of me with a speed that defied human limitations. A gun appeared in his hand, seemingly conjured from nowhere, as a torrent of viscous crimson energy—distinctly different from Cecilia's mana—crashed against an invisible barrier he had erected.

"Blood magic," he hissed, his previous composure replaced by lethal focus. "Stay behind me."

'Arthur,' Luna said solemnly in my mind, 'This is a Cardinal's magic.'