The Extra's Rise

The morning came far too quickly.

I groggily opened my eyes to find that Rachel was still clinging to me, her golden hair sprawled over my chest, her breathing slow and steady. The warmth of her body against mine, the faint scent of her lingering perfume—it was dangerously comfortable.

For a brief, fleeting moment, I allowed myself to enjoy the quiet.

Then—

Knock knock.

My brain, still foggy with sleep, barely processed it.

Then the door opened.

And standing there, framed in the morning light, was Kathyln Creighton.

I froze.

Rachel didn't even stir, blissfully unaware of the impending disaster.

Kathyln's gaze flicked over the room, landing on me—still in bed—then at Rachel—draped over me—before settling back on me with the slow, deliberate calculation of someone mentally filing this information away for future use.

"I was looking for Rachel," she said, her voice as calm as ever. "She wasn't in her room."

I opened my mouth. No words came out.

Kathyln nodded to herself, as if this confirmed some private theory. "Ah. I see."

Rachel finally stirred, blinking blearily. "Mmm… Arthur, what time is—"

She stopped mid-sentence as her brain caught up to the fact that her sister was standing right there, watching us.

A pause.

Then—

"Oh no." Experience more on My Virtual Library Empire

Kathyln, to her credit, didn't look too smug. Just a little.

"You know," she mused, tapping a finger against her chin, "if you two were planning to elope, you could have at least left a note."

Rachel made a noise that could only be described as an indignant squeak before promptly burying her face into my chest to avoid reality.

I, meanwhile, was trying and failing to remember how to breathe.

Kathyln let the silence linger just long enough to make us suffer before casually turning to leave.

"Anyway," she said airily, "Father's expecting you downstairs soon, Arthur. Don't keep him waiting. Oh, and Rachel?"

Rachel, still refusing to lift her head, made a muffled sound of protest.

"Next time, at least pretend to be sneaky about it."

With that, Kathyln shut the door behind her, leaving us both red-faced and reeling.

Rachel groaned into my chest. "I'm never going to hear the end of this."

I sighed, staring up at the ceiling. "Neither am I."

So much for a peaceful morning.

Rachel had gone off to her room to change, leaving me with a moment to myself. I used it to freshen up, splash some cold water on my face, and try to convince myself that I hadn't just barely survived one of the most embarrassing mornings of my life.

It didn't help.

And Luna, being the supportive partner she was, only made it worse.

'Wow, I think my contractor might die,' she said, her tone as dry as a desert.

'Shut up,' I shot back, stepping out of my room and making my way down the hall.

And then I stopped.

Because sitting at the head of the dining table, where breakfast was neatly laid out, was Alastor Creighton. And he was glaring at me.

The kind of glare that made lesser men reconsider their life choices.

"Arthur Nightingale," he said, his voice measured, but carrying weight.

I straightened instinctively, feeling the oppressive pressure of his mana settle over me. "Yes?"

"Return it," he said.

I blinked. "Return what?"

Alastor gritted his teeth. "My daughter! Give me my daughter back!"

I stared at him.

Then, almost—almost—laughed.

I did not laugh, because I had a very strong attachment to staying alive, and Alastor's aura was currently crushing down on me with the force of a planetary-class gravity well.

"I… that's not exactly in my control," I managed.

Alastor looked seconds away from summoning a world-ending spell when a golden blur shot past me and planted itself firmly between us.

"Father, stop bullying Arthur!" Rachel huffed, arms crossed, her shorts-and-t-shirt combination making her look far less like an intimidating noble and far more like a rebellious teenager refusing to be grounded.

Alastor, for all his legendary status, had the distinct look of a man realizing he had absolutely zero authority in this situation.

"Dear," he said, his voice just slightly strained, "I wasn't bullying him."

"I'm not stupid," Rachel shot back. "Arthur is someone precious to me."

Alastor's expression wavered. His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again, but no sound came out. His youngest daughter had just declared that in front of him, and his brain was clearly struggling to process it.

Meanwhile, Kathyln, sitting at the table, was watching the entire thing unfold with the distinct amusement of an older sibling enjoying quality entertainment.

"At least I have my other daughter," Alastor muttered, sighing as Kathyln patted his back in a show of there-there, Father, it'll be okay.

And just like that, breakfast proceeded as if none of that had happened.

Rachel sat next to me, far too pleased with herself.

Then—because the universe hates me—Kathyln decided to open her mouth.

"So," she said, her tone deceptively casual, "are you two dating now?"

Rachel immediately turned red. I, on the other hand, nearly choked on my orange juice.

"N-no," Rachel stammered, "not yet. Arthur has to, um… tie up some loose ends first."

Kathyln raised a brow. "What loose ends?"

Rachel, the traitor, didn't even hesitate.

"He needs to confess to Cecilia, Seraphina, and Rose," she said, as if this was a completely normal thing to say.

I groaned internally.

Kathyln, meanwhile, went from mildly entertained to staring at me like I was clinically insane.

And Alastor?

Alastor narrowed his eyes.

"So my daughter isn't good enough for you?" he asked, voice deceptively calm.

I froze.

'Wait. Hold on. Wasn't he just threatening me for dating her?!'

I was so confused.

"Are you stupid?" Luna scolded, her voice sharp in my mind. "Just imagine—your youngest teenage daughter brings home a boy, and not just any boy, but one who is planning to have a harem of four girls. And that boy is you."

"What do you mean 'someone like me'?" I shot back, feeling vaguely insulted.

She ignored me. Which, honestly, was fair.

Because, unfortunately, she was right.

Across the table, Alastor folded his hands together, smiling the kind of smile people usually reserved for someone they were about to very politely kill.

"Arthur," he said, his tone all warmth and friendliness, his mana pressure doing its best impression of an industrial-grade compactor, "I think I should reward my daughter's future boyfriend."

That word, future, carried just enough menace to make my survival instincts go into high alert.

"How about some personal training?" Alastor suggested, the friendliness in his voice now distinctly predatory. "Your spellcasting could improve quite a bit with the right instruction."

While that was technically true, the odds of me surviving whatever "training" Alastor had in mind were significantly lower than I was comfortable with.

"Ah, I'd love to, but I'm actually heading to the Tower of Magic," I said, declining in the most diplomatic way possible. "I'll be training under Archmage Charlotte."

The moment I said it, the temperature in the room dropped by a few degrees.

Alastor's fingers tapped against the table.

Kathyln stilled.

Rachel winced.

Because, of course, I had just casually mentioned one of the taboo topics in the Creighton estate.

The Tower of Magic and the Creighton family had been locked in an icy, deeply political standoff for years. It wasn't open war, but it was the kind of hostility that made people choose their words carefully.

So why had I said it?

Because, frankly, this world had too many divisions.

The world wasn't fully united against the demons and the miasmic species. Of course, it wasn't completely divided either, but cracks existed. The conflict between the Creightons and the Tower of Magic was just one of many fractures. And sooner or later, if people wanted to actually win this war, those fractures needed to be addressed.

Alastor's gaze on me grew sharper.

Rachel nudged me under the table in silent warning.

And then, just as I was preparing for Alastor to double his mana pressure, Luna's voice cut in.

"You know, the harem ending is actually the best option here."

"What?" I replied, distracted.

"Just seduce and marry all the princesses and other powerful women in the world," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "Then you can unify the world as its sole Emperor."

I nearly choked on my drink.

"Luna, that is not a political strategy!"

"Worked for ancient monarchies," she pointed out. "You'd just be optimizing it."

Meanwhile, back in reality, Alastor's gaze stayed unreadable for a moment longer before he exhaled sharply and stood.

"Fine," he said, voice calm. "Go to the Tower. Train with Charlotte."

I nodded, sensing the conversation was over.

Breakfast continued in an awkward, tense silence.

By midday, I was preparing to leave. One of the Creighton family's self driving cars—sleek, black, and unmistakably expensive—was already waiting outside, primed to take me to the airport for my flight to Avalon.

Rachel stood beside me at the entrance, arms crossed, eyes shining with just a hint of irritation.

"I still don't like that you're leaving so soon," she grumbled.

I smiled. "You say that like I won't see you again soon."

She huffed. "Not soon enough."

Kathyln, standing a few steps away, just shook her head in amusement. Alastor, mercifully, had chosen to not personally oversee my departure, possibly to avoid any further existential crises regarding his youngest daughter's life choices.

"Try not to miss me too much," I teased.

Rachel narrowed her eyes.

Then, before I could react, she grabbed my collar, pulled me down, and kissed me.

Short. Firm. Undeniably smug.

By the time she pulled away, I was certain my ears were red.

"There," she said, looking far too pleased with herself. "Now you have something to think about on your way back to Avalon."

Kathyln coughed pointedly.

I cleared my throat. "Right. Well. I should—"

Rachel pushed me towards the car. "Go, go, before I decide to keep you here forever."

And so, with my dignity barely intact and Luna definitely laughing in my mind, I boarded the car and set off for the airport for my flight to Avalon.

I had a lot to think about.

And, thanks to Rachel, no chance of thinking about anything else for the entire trip.