I Reincarnated as an Extra in a Reverse Harem World-Chapter 85: Lord Cedric [3]

After Alaric disappeared from the slums, he sat atop a bell tower—one so high it overlooked the entire Velmora Kingdom. The winds were soft at that altitude, and the vastness of the land stretched endlessly beneath him.

His expression was peaceful.

He hadn’t taken on that persona out of some noble, world-saving vision. No—his reasons had been selfish. It was all a calculated move to solidify his claim to the Velmoran throne through Auralyne ’s legacy, a political maneuver to silence dissent before it could rise.

But now...

Now that he had helped them—truly helped them—and had seen smiles bloom across faces weathered by despair, something in him had shifted.

He felt happy. Genuinely happy.

And with that warmth came the sharp sting of shame. He realized how shallow his intentions had been, how blind to the weight of the people’s pain he had been until that moment.

Then his thoughts drifted to her—the one who had brought him here.

The Goddess Elyssera.

She had not only given him a second chance at life but had entrusted him with strength that defied measure. A soul reborn, wrapped in divine power.

He owed her. More than he could ever repay.

But this—this was something he could do. He could extend his hand to her people. To those who still lived beneath the weight of chains they could not name. He could cleanse the rot clinging to the bones of kingdoms. And in doing so, perhaps...

Perhaps the debt would lessen, even if just a little.

*****

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✶ I Reincarnated as an Extra ✶

✧ in a Reverse Harem World ✧

⊱ Eternal_Void_ ⊰

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*****

Alaric lingered at the top of the bell tower for a few more minutes, letting the wind pass through him like a prayer. Then, silently, he vanished.

That night, he returned to the estate.

The next day, by noon, Alaric arrived at the slums—just as he had promised.

The reaction was immediate.

People surged from their makeshift huts, cries rising in waves.

"Lord Cedric has returned!"

They shouted.

But it was not like yesterday.

Gone were the sickly faces and the vacant eyes. Today, the air was filled with life. The people looked healthier—vibrant, even. The divine touch from the day before had done more than heal their bodies. It had sparked something deeper.

They swarmed toward him, hands outstretched not in desperation, but in awe.

Alaric raised his hand.

At once, the voices fell silent.

He stood there, calm as stone, gaze sweeping across the sea of faces now lit with hope. When he finally spoke, his voice was firm, but not unkind.

"Today, I came to extend an offer."

He paused.

The words settled in the air, heavy with promise.

Some among the crowd could not contain their fervor.

"We’ll do anything!"

One cried.

"Just say it—we’ll follow you!" frёeωebɳovel.com

Shouted another.

But Alaric shook his head.

"Don’t trust people blindly,"

He said,

"because those who wear angelic faces can be more demonic than the darkest devils."

A hush fell over the crowd.

They hadn’t expected such a warning—but none spoke back. They listened.

"The offer,"

Alaric continued,

"is for a better life."

"But before you decide, let me tell you the truth of it."

"You will be working under a noble family—courteous and fair. They’ve found great success in the food industry and are now expanding across the entire kingdom. They need manpower—your strength."

"You will be paid well. You will be granted protection. And most importantly, your families will come with you."

He let the silence draw again before finishing,

"Your pay will be enough for all of you to live—not merely survive, but live—in comfort."

A few gasps rippled through the crowd. Mothers clutched their children. Old men straightened their backs. Hope was a fragile thing—but today, it was being handed to them in full.

Alaric wasn’t finished.

"But that is not all."

"Because this is a massive endeavor, there will be a need for discretion—for loyalty."

"And so, before you agree, know this: you will be bound by chains of secrecy. Not by force, but by vow. Break it—and the consequences will be severe. Remain true—and you will rise with us."

"Think on this carefully."

"Contemplate the weight of what I am offering. Do not be swept by emotion. Decide as men and women who know the cost of both trust—and betrayal."

***

One by one, voices began to rise from the crowd.

"I’ve got three children,"

Said an older man, stepping forward.

"No work, no food for days. I’ll take the vow. Even if it costs my life—I want them to eat."

"My husband died last winter,"

Whispered a woman, clutching her shawl.

"I’ve been praying for something... anything. This is the first answer I’ve ever received."

"This world’s never offered us kindness,"

another muttered, eyes still locked on Alaric. Though they can’t see anything because of the shadow on Alaric’s face. But they thought of it as enough.

"If you’re lying, we’ll die. But if you’re not—we’ll live. I’ll take the chance."

Their words came not from blind devotion, but from people who had already lived through despair. It was not faith they lacked, but reason to believe.

And now, they found one.

Alaric gave a solemn nod, his gaze calm and unwavering.

He raised his hand.

A wave of divine energy radiated from him, unseen but deeply felt.

A warm pulse spread through every soul in the vicinity, centering on the back of their right hands. There was no pain—only light. Gentle, golden light. It faded swiftly, and in its place, a symbol remained, engraved like a divine seal.

A blooming golden lily beneath a radiant sun.

The symbol of the Goddess Elyssera.

It shimmered faintly for a breath longer, then settled into the skin like it had always belonged.

Gasps escaped from several mouths. Some fell to their knees in reverence, others simply stared at their hands, disbelieving.

But all felt it—that warmth. That protective glow.

A vow made not with words, but with soul.

It was not a brand, nor a curse. It was a pact—binding and blessed.

They knew that symbol. Even in the slums, forgotten corners still whispered of the goddess. Long ago, when prayers still carried meaning, they had begged her for salvation.

But no answer had come.

And over the years, silence turned their hope into bitterness.

Yet now... that very symbol burned softly against their skin.

Some wept. Others simply looked to the sky.

Was it a dream?

Could it be real?

Their lives were changing too fast. Too suddenly. But it was not the cruelty of chaos this time—it was kindness, foreign and overwhelming.

They didn’t know what the road ahead would bring. Whether it would be long or short, smooth or fatal.

But they were willing.

Even if the path ended in death... then so be it.

If they could live a few days in dignity before that end, walk just a little while under the warmth of grace—they would consider it enough.

Because here, in the filth of the forgotten, the goddess had finally answered.

And her answer... came in form of a man called Cedric.

***

After the seal was placed, and the people had calmed their emotions, Alaric addressed them once more.

"If you go to the Crydias Estate,"

He said,

"and show this seal to the guards, they will allow you inside without question."

He paused, scanning the sea of faces once more, eyes steady.

"But go at night. Move quietly. If too many of you travel by daylight, it will raise suspicion. Others may start asking questions... and not everyone who asks will have kind intentions. Trouble will find you faster than help if you’re careless."

The crowd nodded solemnly. They understood. This was a second chance—and second chances required vigilance.

With nothing more, Alaric turned and walked away.

He vanished from the slums without flourish or sound, only the fading sense of divine presence marking that he had ever been there.

***

By evening, he was back at the estate.

That morning, he had already met with Lord Crydias —the current head of House Crydias.

Alaric had explained everything plainly: the labor force, the relocation, the oaths, and the divine seals.

Lord Crydias had not hesitated.

He accepted the plan eagerly.

After all, these people from the slums could be trained easily enough. Feed them, house them, give them uniform duties—and loyalty would follow.

They had nothing to lose. That made them malleable. Grateful.

And best of all? The finances were simple.

Paying them would cost less than hiring through traditional guilds, yet the results would be just as effective—perhaps more.

And if the news ever reached the temples or sanctified circles that House Tradeis was helping the poor, then the blessings of the gods—or at least their followers—would come flowing in.

A win-win, in every direction.

Lord Criteus had smiled, pleased.

He accepted everything Alaric said.

Without question.

And besides, he wasn’t in any position to refuse any ways. He and his wife were bounded to this man through their daughter. He asked for his permission, that was already enough show of respect.

If Alaric wanted, he could take all the decisions without telling any one and know one will object.

-To Be Continued