Extra's Rebirth: I Will Create A Good Ending For The Heroines-Chapter 13: Savior In Silver

[I apologize for the lack of updates, I was caught up with work but we’ll continue with normal updates from now]

—Princess Naelia’s POV—

They say that when you’re born a princess, your life is filled with music and roses.

What a load of crap.

It had been days — weeks maybe, I’d lost track of time in this godforsaken place.

The sun barely filtered into the room through the holes in the rotting wood. And even when it did, it didn’t feel warm.

Not anymore.

I was still somewhere in Kraken Town’s slums, trapped in this backwater town so close to the imperial capital, and yet it might as well have been another world.

No one came.

No one found me.

Each passing hour chipped away at my hope like termites chewing through a hollow frame.

They bound me to a chair with thick ropes — cruel, unyielding knots digging into my skin — and they took my blood.

That was their obsession.

Something about fermenting it with chemicals, preserving it in glass compartments like wine aging for a twisted celebration.

I didn’t know what for. I stopped asking after the second day.

It was easier to just sit still. Easier to stare at the floor. Easier to feel nothing.

But the truth is, I’d have died already if not for her.

Ira.

She was bought, dragged into this nightmare before me, but somehow — somehow — she never lost her warmth.

When the monsters weren’t watching, she’d sneak in scraps of food, water, whisper encouragement in my ear.

"You’re going to live," she’d said. "No matter what, Your Highness."

She was a supportive friend, the only one I had in this hell hole.

Today, the light was dim again.

The stench of chemicals stung my nostrils. And as if summoned by it, he appeared — the man with the lab coat and bug-eyed glasses.

The one who always smiled when he stuck the needle in.

He stood over me now, muttering like usual, "Time to draw more... the blood must settle... must ripen... oh, what a glorious day it will be."

His gaze scanned my face, searching for fear, defiance — anything to amuse himself with. But I had none left to give him.

The imperial knights wouldn’t find me.

No detection magic could reach this place — likely cloaked by dark sorcery.

Even Uncle Steven...

I drew in a shaky breath, bracing myself for the needle.

Then everything shook.

A boom echoed outside — like thunder cracking through a clear sky. The entire building trembled, dust falling from the ceiling.

The guards lounging in the room jumped to their feet.

They were in confusion.

There was yelling all over the room and then... chaos.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!"

"Go! Go outside!"

"Cover the back door!"

They spilled out like roaches at the sound of a boot.

Only one man remained. The doctor. The madman. His gaze flicked toward the commotion, then back to me.

He smiled again.

I hated that smile.

"We already have everything we need," he whispered, pulling a thick needle from his coat. "Just need to take enough before I’m interrupted."

But then —

"Ira!" I gasped.

She charged forward like a lightning bolt, slamming into him and knocking the man off his feet.

The chair I was bound to clattered as I twisted, trying to free myself.

Ira scrambled to hold him down, fists pounding at his chest, but he kicked her — hard.

She hit the wall with a sickening thud.

"No—!"

The man turned back to me, eyes wild. Unhinged.

His voice a trembling hum as he raised the needle again. "More... more... they’ll sing songs about what this blood will awaken—"

Then everything changed.

The air shifted.

A wave of power rolled through the room — thick, crushing, like the eye of a storm had opened within these four walls.

I froze.

That was aura. But stronger than anything I’d ever felt.

Uncle Steven?

No. Not quite. This was different. Sharper.

The madman froze too, eyes darting toward the corner of the room. But it was already too late.

In a blur of motion — no, not even that. In a heartbeat, in the span of a single breath — a silver-haired boy appeared.

He didn’t walk. He didn’t run.

He simply... was.

Twin daggers gleamed in his hands, and then—

Slash

Slash

Slashslashslash

He vanished again. And when the world caught up to the sound, the man in the lab coat was already falling. Not in one piece.

A hundred tiny slashes carved into his flesh like an artist tearing apart canvas.

Blood exploded from his body, spraying the walls, and then he hit the floor with a wet, final sound.

Silence returned.

I stared.

The boy turned toward me slowly, daggers lowered, eyes soft.

He looked... cute.

No — handsome, even. Silver hair swept slightly over his forehead, crimson eyes locking onto mine.

There was something in those eyes. A calm I hadn’t seen even in my father’s gaze.

Not the cold calculation of a soldier. Not the pity of a rescuer.

Something real. Something warm.

He looked at me like I mattered.

Even my heartbeat paused for a second. My cheeks flushed involuntarily.

He noticed Ira crumpled against the wall, surprise flickering in his expression, but it was quickly pushed away.

He walked over and knelt beside me, quickly cutting the ropes from my arms and legs.

I collapsed into his arms, the strength gone from mine.

"Don’t worry, Your Majesty," he said softly, catching me. "You’re safe now."

His voice was calm.

It was reassuring.

I wanted to say something.

Anything.

Maybe thank him for saving me, maybe ask him for his name.

But instead — I let the warmth of his arms take me.

And I lost consciousness.

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