The Cursed Extra: Bloodline of Sacrifice

Caspian sat at his desk, flipping a pen between his fingers as he stared at the academy's digital points system on his phone.

10,000 points.

That was the number he needed.

In this academy, power wasn't just about strength. Resources, favors, influence—it all came down to the invisible currency that dictated a student's standing.

He exhaled sharply and turned to Vera, who stood across from him, arms crossed, waiting for whatever scheme he had in mind.

"Vera, can you collect 5,000 points from your friends and other students? I'll return them in a week."

He narrowed her eyes. "That's a lot of points."

"I know. But can you do it?"

Vera sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "I'll try."

That was good enough.

Vera had connections, and more importantly, he knew how to navigate the student hierarchy.

That covered half of it.

Now, for the other 5,000 points.

Caspian leaned back in his chair, calculating.

Vynesaa. Fianna. Lyrius. Calenthir.

They were his best bet.

Each of them had deep pockets, and asking for 1,000 points each wouldn't be a burden. As long as he made the request sound practical, they'd likely agree.

10,000 points. Secured.

He checked his phone.

3:00 PM.

There was still time before the match, but—

Rumors.

The second-years had been spreading lies about him, twisting stories, distorting the truth.

And worse—they had nearly destroyed his entire room.

His grip tightened around his phone as a familiar pair of names burned in his mind.

Jaxar.

Eirak.

Those bastards.

Both of them are Arcwright, which meant a direct confrontation in the academy would be suicidal. Status and influence still held weight here.

If Caspian retaliated openly, most students would side with them, not him.

But that didn't mean he was going to sit still.

After the tournament and the A-rank mission, the academy would enter its holiday period.

Most students would leave—some for noble gatherings, others for personal training, and some just to enjoy their time off.

And when that happened?

No academy rules.

No faculty oversight.

No witnesses.

Just him and them.

That was when he would deal with them.

For now, though, he had to make sure they didn't interfere with his life—

And for that—he had an idea and collected 10,000 points.

---

[The Arena]

Caspian stood near the entrance, leaning casually against the gate.

Footsteps approached.

"Hey, benchmate."

Caspian turned his head slightly.

Oliver.

His usual lazy smirk was in place, his posture relaxed.

"Hey," Caspian replied evenly.

Another presence moved in from the side.

Darian.

Unlike Oliver, his energy was sharp, brimming with anticipation. He cracked his knuckles, stretching his shoulders.

"Ready?" Darian asked.

Caspian met his gaze.

"Hmm."

Darian leaned in slightly, voice dropping just enough that only Caspian could hear.

"Don't worry too much. I won't fight all out. We're already qualified."

A joke.

Caspian didn't react, but internally, he knew exactly what this was.

Darian had been waiting for this rematch ever since Caspian defeated him in the entrance exam.

This wasn't about advancing to the knockout rounds.

This was personal.

And when the match started—

Darian wouldn't hold back.

Caspian exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders as the announcer's voice echoed across the arena.

The fight was moments away.

And this time—he wasn't planning on losing.

.

As the heavy steel doors of the closed arena slid open, the two teams stepped inside.

There were no spectators—only the distant mechanical whir of the floating camera drones that recorded every match.

Above them, a massive holographic screen displayed the current standings.

Caspian's eyes scanned the data, processing it in seconds.

---

Team Onlooker – 3 Wins / 0 Losses / 9 Points / Winning Time: 47 min 43 sec / Losing Time: 0

Team Z – 2 Wins / 1 Loss / 6 Points / Winning Time: 66 min 21 sec / Losing Time: 25 min 13 sec

Team Void – 2 Wins / 1 Loss / 6 Points / Winning Time: 67 min 32 sec / Losing Time: 27 min 14 sec

Team Dicken – 1 Win / 2 Losses / 3 Points / Winning Time: 49 min / Losing Time: 84 min

Team Saga – 1 Win / 3 Losses / 3 Points / Winning Time: 33 min / Losing Time: 97 min

---

Caspian's gaze lingered on Team Void. They were tied in points with Team Z, his team.

If Team Void lost their match today against Team Dicken, then his team would automatically qualify for the next round.

But if Team Void won...

Then our qualification depends on our match today. And not just winning—we have to finish the match as fast as possible.

Winning time was the second ranking factor. The shorter their match, the higher their rank.

If they wasted time, they would fall below Team Void even if both had the same points.

Caspian exhaled slowly. A test of efficiency.

The deciding battle

.

Caspian rolled his shoulders.

He had already assigned the matchups in his head.

Vera vs. Darian — The archer would keep the dragon-blooded warrior busy.

Lyrius vs. Oliver — A battle of swords.

Calenthir vs. Marin — Their strongest fighter against the weakest of the enemy team.

Caspian vs. Zaxen.

Kairos vs. Kaidon.

Caspian's eyes locked onto Zaxen.

An assassin. A poison user.

Zaxen was the type to play dirty.

If he managed to land a single poisoned cut, it would cripple most opponents within minutes.

But Caspian's Bloodline of Sacrifice was a direct counter. He could consume the poison, nullify its effects, and keep fighting.

That's why I have to take him out first.

Meanwhile, Calenthir had the easiest matchup. Marin, the lightning mage, was their weakest link.

It made sense to have Calenthir overwhelm her quickly, tipping the battle in their favor before the others could get a foothold.

Caspian exhaled.

A voice echoed through the arena.

"Are you all ready?"

A moment of silence.

Then—

"Yes."

"Then—begin!"

Caspian moved first.

A blur of speed as he launched himself at Zaxen, sword in hand.

His strategy was simple: close the distance, force a direct confrontation, and eliminate him before he could disappear.

But—

Clang!

A blade came out of nowhere, colliding with his sword mid-dash. The force of the impact sent a shockwave through the arena. Caspian's arms shook as he instinctively pushed back.

Darian.

The dragon-blooded warrior had intercepted him, his draconic claws glowing with heat.

His golden eyes glimmered with amusement.

"In a hurry, Caspian?" he mused, effortlessly holding his ground. "Relax. The match just started."

Caspian didn't respond. He twisted his sword, breaking the clash, and kicked off the ground—retreating just as an arrow whistled past.

Vera.

The archer had already positioned himself, loosing another shot aimed directly at Darian's blind spot.

Darian smirked.

He dodged at the last moment, barely tilting his head as the arrow shot past his ear.

That's Vera's job. He would keep Darian occupied. Caspian didn't have time to engage him now.

His eyes flicked back to Zaxen.

The assassin was gone.

Damn it.

The moment Caspian turned, a sharp slash cut through the air.

Shing!

He barely reacted in time—twisting his body, avoiding a deep cut.

But the dagger still grazed his arm, drawing a thin line of blood.

Caspian hissed.

Zaxen had already vanished again.

A whisper of movement—

Caspian spun, blocking just as another dagger came from his left, deflecting it before stepping back.

Zaxen was fast. Unlike warriors who relied on brute strength, assassins moved like ghosts, their attacks precise and relentless.

If Caspian didn't track him properly, this would turn into a slow death.

But Zaxen had made a mistake.

The blade had cut into Caspian's skin.

And with it—

The poison had entered his bloodstream.

Zaxen's smirk was barely visible in the shifting shadows. "It's over."

Caspian exhaled.

"No. It's not."

His Bloodline of Sacrifice activated.

The poison that should have weakened him burned away, vanishing.

Zaxen's smirk faltered. "What?"

Now.

Caspian lunged forward—his sword flashing.

Zaxen's eyes widened.

The poison should have slowed Caspian down. It should have made him hesitate, even for a second.

But nothing happened.

Instead, Caspian was already in front of him—faster than before.

"Shit."

Zaxen twisted his body, vanishing into the shadows again.

His dagger flashed from the darkness, aiming for Caspian's throat. A silent kill. Precise. Unavoidable.

Or so he thought.

Clang!

Caspian's sword met the dagger mid-air.

A burst of force sent the assassin skidding backward.

Zaxen gritted his teeth. That wasn't normal. Caspian shouldn't have been able to react that fast.

And then he realized—

Caspian wasn't affected by his poison or it could be that his will-power and healing ability is better ...so that nullify his poison effect for some time.

Zaxen mainly relied on poison and misdirection. But now, his poison was useless.

That meant Zaxen had lost his biggest advantage.

Still, he wasn't finished.

He was an assassin. He could outlast, outmaneuver—

No. He couldn't.

Caspian wasn't giving him time.

Another attack—feral, relentless.

Caspian's sword moved like a storm, every swing closing the space between them. Zaxen had no room to breathe.

Then—

A mistake.

Zaxen's foot barely slipped as he tried to sidestep.

It was small. Almost invisible.

Caspian struck.

Shing!

A brutal slash cut through Zaxen's side. He gasped, staggering backward. Blood dripped onto the floor.

Caspian didn't stop.

He grabbed Zaxen by the collar, pulling him close—and slammed his knee into the assassin's stomach.

"Guh—!"

Zaxen's body folded inward.

Before he could recover, Caspian twisted his arm and slammed him onto the ground.

Boom!

Dust rose.

Zaxen didn't move.

One Down

Caspian exhaled. That was one.

He turned, crushing the two capsules on Zaxen's.

But as he was to crush third capsule—

Oliver appeared.

"Not so fast."

A blade whistled through the air.

Caspian barely had time to raise his sword—

Clang!