The Useless Extra Knows It All....But Does He?-Chapter 93 - The Night of Many Threads (5)

The grand main hall of Imperial Palace had transformed into a regal spectacle.

Golden chandeliers shimmered above, casting warm, radiant light over the opulent red carpet that split the crowd in half. The nobles, military officials, scholars, and foreign envoys had gathered in full formality, their ornate attires creating a sea of vivid colors and dazzling jewels on either side of the hall. A central path was left untouched, leading straight to a majestic high stage where the representatives of the various great powers sat—cloaked in their respective auras of authority and mystery. Among them, there was new face now as the Mage Tower Master has joined in.

Conversation buzzed low and reverent like a hum beneath the anticipation, until the sound of boots on marble grew louder and all fell silent.

Backstage, Luca was in the waiting chamber with the other chosen honorees. He sat quietly on a long bench, fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve, eyes half-closed, listening to the murmurs and applause from beyond the wall.

I can hear them... all the nobles... all the major powers of the continent... are inside, he thought, exhaling slowly. His stomach twisted—not from fear, but a pressure heavier than combat itself.

A familiar, amused voice spoke beside him, snapping him from his thoughts.

"Who would’ve thought," said a silver-haired mage woman, her voice light with mischief, "that the same boy who stood against the Knight Commander’s strategy, and today bore the crushing pressure of the Iron Duke without flinching... would be this nervous just standing in a waiting room."

Luca turned and blinked in recognition—it was her. The same high-ranking mage from the Mage Tower who had fought alongside him at Beastridge Mountain. He gave a sheepish laugh, scratching the back of his neck.

"They were calls of the battlefield... This feels entirely different," Luca replied, his voice soft but honest.

"Hmph." A rougher voice followed.

"What’s there to be afraid of?" the same Knight Commander grunted, his arms crossed and expression proud as he nodded toward the nearby wall. "Look at your brother—he’s standing like he owns the damn place."

Luca followed his gesture to see Vincent leaning with his arms folded, one leg crossed over the other, eyes closed in complete calm. Not a trace of nervousness.

So Vincent is already in contact with the Empire’s Knights haa...

"Come on, spare the kid," Seraphina’s voice chimed in as she joined the group, her black dress swaying behind her.

Their shared presence, their teasing, their quiet support... eased the tension in Luca’s chest. Though there were four or five others in the room, all strangers to him, it was these familiar faces—those who had shared the battlefield—that grounded him.

Then, the voice of the announcer echoed through the main hall, loud and formal.

As one by one those 4,5 faces disappeared and then :

"Vincent Valentine, third-year prodigy of Arcadia Academy."

The crowd shifted.

"He, riding on his Silver-Winged Wyvern, fearlessly engaged the dragon at close range, weakening it continuously and buying precious time for the final strike."

The crowd burst into thunderous applause.

"Vincent will receive the Medal of Honor from the Elven Queen herself. Please step forward."

The backstage door opened as Vincent calmly pushed off the wall, nodding to no one in particular. He walked forward with the grace of a veteran knight and the quiet arrogance of someone who had never once doubted his strength.

Luca exhaled again, still not ready.

But he knew—My name would be called soon.

And this time, it wouldn’t be just nobles watching.

It would be Aurelia. His brother. The Tower Master. The leaders of this world.

And somehow... the path forward didn’t seem as terrifying anymore.

Next came:

"Lady Mirenia Vale, who led the coordinated long-range attacks of the Mage Division, dealing one of the fatal blows to the dragon. She will receive the Medal of Honor from Her Holiness, the Saintess of the Holy Kingdom."

The silver-haired mage clicked her tongue, visibly displeased. Her jaw tightened ever so slightly as she stood and strode toward the doors.

Luca tilted his head and turned toward Seraphina. "Why did she seem... annoyed?"

Before Seraphina could respond, the Knight Commander chuckled from the side.

"Haha! It’s because the later one is called out, the higher their contribution is considered. She’s grumpy someone else ranked above her."

Luca blinked, realization dawning. "Oh... ohhh."

"And now," the announcer called again, "please welcome Seraphina Percy! In the early stages of the battle, she did not panic but instead rallied the scattered students and warriors, becoming the force that unified the battlefield. She will receive the Medal of Honor from Elder Thrain of the Mountain Clans."

As Seraphina walked out, Luca could hear the swell of applause—louder than before, even. Her steps were steady, her back straight, and her head held high. She owned the moment.

That left only two inside: Luca and the Knight Commander.

The silence between them grew thick for a moment until the Commander suddenly cleared his throat.

"Hey... about what I said back there at Beastridge Mountain."

He scratched his head, slightly awkward. "I thought you were just some hot-headed brat making things worse."

Luca blinked at him, then let out a breathy laugh. Fair enough, he thought. I’d probably think the same if a seventeen-year-old challenged my command in the middle of a battlefield.

"Don’t worry," Luca said, smiling slightly. "If I were in your shoes, I’d have thought the same."

The Knight Commander burst into laughter. "HAHAHA! Good! That’s the spirit! Well... I’ll be heading out now."

Luca raised an eyebrow. "Wait, what—?"

Before he could finish, the announcement boomed once again.

"Now, please welcome Commander Darius Kael, who led the battlefield as its chief strategist, holding the front lines and minimizing casualties through tactical brilliance. He will receive the Medal of Honor... from the Tower Master of the Magic Tower."

The tall, broad-shouldered man nodded and walked out with a confident, commanding air, leaving Luca alone behind the doors.

The room suddenly felt too quiet.

Wait... am I last?

Why...?

His thoughts began to spiral, a swirl of questions and anxiety forming again in his chest as muffled applause thundered outside.

"Now, the one with the most contributions in the battle—from changing the strategy to an all-out assault, to identifying the soul as the weak point, and finally delivering the decisive blow himself—please welcome, first-year student of Arcadia Academy... Her Majesty the Empress will personally present the Medal of Honor... Luca Valentine!"

The doors swung open with a solemn groan.

Luca straightened his posture, exhaled deeply, and took his first step forward.

What welcomed him was a hall brimming with people—royalty, nobles, commanders, professors, and students—all applauding. The sound was thunderous, yet somehow distant to Luca as he walked.

"Hey, isn’t he too young for all this?"

"Huh? Another Valentine?"

"Isn’t he the one who stood unfazed before the Iron Duke’s pressure?"

Murmurs floated around him like dust in sunlight—but Luca’s mind was steady. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t slow.

Then his gaze caught his master—now on the stage, dressed not in her usual white robes but a graceful violet dress that flowed like moonlight on water. Her face remained partially hidden beneath a sheer veil, but her eyes... they smiled at him with pride. You deserve this.

His heart fluttered.

Then his eyes drifted. His parents stood near the front—his mother wiping tears from her eyes, his father with arms crossed and chest puffed with pride. Lisa was bouncing in her seat, nearly leaping into the air. Look, that’s my brother!

Aiden, Kyle, Selena, and Lilliane clapped for him without restraint—eyes lit with genuine joy. Even Vincent, stoic and cold, looked on with a half-smile and glint of pride. Was he... more proud now than when his own name was called?

Then his gaze locked with Aurelia’s.

She was radiant. But eyes soft... and smiling. A smile that said more than words ever could.

Luca’s chest rose slowly. His nerves melted. His back straightened further, spine like steel. The fire in his eyes.

He climbed the steps and approached the Empress.

And now, up close, she looked even more ethereal. The golden armor shimmered beneath the chandelier’s glow. Her golden crown glinted faintly. Her scent was faintly floral, unfamiliar yet regal. But it was her eyes—piercing, intelligent, amused—that caught his attention.

They studied him with interest. As if looking past his flesh, into his soul.

She took the medal and stepped forward.

With graceful hands, she affixed it to his coat. Her fingers brushed his collarbone, light and cold like silk.

Then, in a voice like snow falling in moonlight, she said—

"This is the Silver Medal of Brilliance—the third highest honor in the Empire. It grants you the right to ask a personal favor from me... directly."

Gasps echoed through the hall.

Even the applause froze.

Silence reigned as the weight of her words sank in. Whispers started, stunned, sharp.

Luca’s eyes widened slightly. He hadn’t expected this—Then, as he tried to steady his breath, Kunpeng’s voice whispered eagerly in his mind.

"ASK FOR THE EGG. Do it! Come on, come on—this is the moment!"

But before he could react, the Empress dropped yet another bomb, which even surprised people present on high stage.

"After the ceremony... meet me."