The Extra is a Genius!?-Chapter 574: Orthran Appears

He stepped off the path and moved closer.

The garden opened into a circular clearing at its center, marble tiles forming a wide platform surrounded by low hedges and evenly spaced lanterns. At the heart of it stood a statue carved from immaculate white stone.

It was him.

Noel stopped a few paces away.

The sculptor had captured him standing upright, shoulders squared, one hand resting over the hilt of a sword driven into the ground before him. The blade was angled slightly forward, not in aggression, but in resolve. His expression was calm, almost solemn. The cloak carved behind him seemed to ripple as if caught in wind.

At his side, carved with equal care, was Noir in her wolf pup form—ears perked, eyes forward, stance protective.

The composition was unmistakably heroic.

Noel stared at it in silence.

’They made you more handsome here, Dad.’

He blinked.

"That’s not possible," he muttered. "I’m exactly this handsome already."

Noir’s presence in his shadow shifted with quiet amusement.

He stepped closer, examining the details. The lines were precise. The proportions intentional. This hadn’t been done casually.

"I didn’t approve this," he said under his breath.

The realization settled slowly.

Recognition.

Public recognition.

The Holy Capital did not erect statues lightly.

He had acted to protect them once.

He had fought within these walls.

And now stone remembered it.

His gaze lingered on the sword carved into marble.

Consequences did not always come in the form of enemies.

Sometimes they stood on pedestals.

Footsteps approached softly across marble.

Measured. Unhurried.

Noel did not turn immediately. He already knew the rhythm.

Orthran came into view from the eastern path, robes white and silver beneath the sacred lantern light. His hands were folded loosely within his sleeves, posture composed as always. He stopped at Noel’s side without greeting, without ceremony, and looked up at the statue.

For a few seconds, neither spoke.

The breeze moved lightly through the hedges. Lantern flames flickered but did not waver.

"This was the least we could do," Orthran said at last.

His tone was calm, steady, free of performance.

Noel let out a quiet breath. "You didn’t have to."

Orthran’s gaze remained on the marble figure. "Perhaps. But we chose to."

A small pause followed.

"The decision was not unanimous," Orthran continued. "Some believed it excessive. Others believed it overdue. In the end, gratitude prevailed."

Noel glanced sideways at him. "I didn’t save the Holy Capital alone."

"You stood where others could not," Orthran replied simply. "That matters."

There was no exaggeration in the words. No sermon beneath them.

Noel looked back at the statue. "It’s strange."

"In what way?"

"I’m still alive," Noel said. "Statues usually come later."

Orthran allowed the faintest hint of a smile. "We are aware."

Silence settled again, this time less formal.

Noel studied the carved version of himself—calm, resolute, untouched by doubt. Stone did not show hesitation. It did not show second thoughts. It did not show the weight behind decisions.

"It doesn’t make you uncomfortable?" Orthran asked.

"No," Noel answered after a moment. "Surprised, yes. Uncomfortable, no."

"That is good."

Noel finally turned toward him fully. "How did you know I would arrive tonight?"

Orthran shifted his gaze from the statue to the path ahead.

"A feeling," he said.

Noel gave him a look. "That’s not very detailed."

"It is honest."

A faint breeze passed between them.

"You tend to move when silence grows too long," Orthran added. "And the silence here has been growing."

Noel understood the meaning behind that.

Faith had been shaken. Politics had shifted. Rumors about the Circle and the Pillars had reached even these walls. The Holy Capital was steady, but steadiness did not mean ignorance.

"And you weren’t concerned about where I would appear?" Noel asked.

"If you intended harm," Orthran replied calmly, "you would not stand admiring your own statue."

That drew a short breath of amusement from Noel.

’He’s right,’ Noir murmured in his mind.

Orthran stepped slightly closer to the statue, observing it as if seeing it anew.

"We placed it here intentionally," he said. "Not inside the cathedral. Not among saints. Here, in the garden."

"Why?" Noel asked.

"So that people may see it while walking," Orthran replied. "While thinking. While breathing. Not as an object of worship, but as a reminder that faith and action are not separate."

Noel absorbed that quietly.

"You risk people misinterpreting it," he said. "Putting too much weight on one person."

Orthran nodded. "That risk exists. We judged it acceptable."

Another pause.

"You’ve changed since the last time you stood here," Orthran said.

"So have you."

"That is unavoidable."

Noel folded his arms loosely. "Redna will arrive in two days."

"I am aware."

Orthran finally looked directly at him. "You intend to ask the Church for more than blessings."

"I intend to ask for alignment," Noel said plainly. "If this escalates, neutrality won’t hold." 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Orthran did not answer immediately.

"The Holy Capital does not move lightly," he said after a moment. "Our influence is vast. Our involvement... consequential."

"I know."

"And yet you came."

"Yes."

They held each other’s gaze in silence.

The garden felt very still.

Orthran exhaled slowly. "Walk with me."

Noel glanced once more at the statue.

Noir’s carved form stared forward eternally, small but unwavering beside the marble version of him.

Then he stepped away.

They began moving along the curved path that circled the central clearing, lantern light trailing beside them.

The statue remained behind, pale against the night.

They walked in silence for several steps, gravel shifting softly beneath their boots.

The cathedral loomed ahead, its white towers rising clean and severe against the night sky. From this angle, the statue was no longer visible—hidden behind hedges and distance.

Orthran spoke first.

"The Holy Capital is stable," he said. "But stability is fragile when belief begins to fracture. The name you bring with you carries weight here."

"Elarin," Noel replied quietly.

Orthran nodded once. "There are those within these walls who will struggle to hear what you intend to say."

"I’m not here to insult faith," Noel said. "I’m here to prevent its collapse."

Orthran’s gaze shifted toward him briefly.

"Then you must choose your words carefully."

Noel’s expression settled.

"I always do."