The Extra's Rise-Chapter 137: Prelude to Spring Break (2)

I had been planning to dive headfirst into the Lich project the moment I had all the materials. The thought had consumed me for weeks—the Skull, the Source, the Skeleton, the Staff, all aligned and ready. But Benjamin’s warning lingered in my mind like an ominous echo: Do not attempt the integration until you’ve reached White-rank.

He wasn’t wrong. The process required a mana reservoir I simply didn’t have yet. So, reluctantly, I shelved my ambition for the moment. Not abandoned, just… postponed. A few more weeks wouldn’t kill me. Hopefully.

Meanwhile, the Academy buzzed with renewed life as the other students trickled back from their own missions. Some came back smug, others quietly relieved, and a few limped in, carrying more bruises than glory. The atmosphere was electric, stories of narrow escapes and triumphs floating around like gossip on steroids. It seemed everyone had a tale to tell.

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Two weeks until spring break. The phrase floated in the air like a promise of salvation for some and a ticking clock for others.

I found myself in the cafeteria one afternoon, seated across from Rachel and Cecilia. The two of them were locked in one of their usual verbal sparring matches—Rachel’s teasing wit against Cecilia’s sharp tongue.

"So," Rachel said, nibbling on a piece of bread, "what are you planning for spring break, Arthur? Surely, you’ve got some grand scheme brewing in that overworked brain of yours."

I leaned back, pretending to consider it. "Maybe I’ll just stay here and catch up on sleep."

Cecilia rolled her eyes. "Sleep? You? That’s about as believable as you becoming a pastry chef."

"Hey, I could make a mean éclair," I countered, feigning offense.

"Sure you could," Rachel said with a grin. "Anyway, I was thinking of heading to Avalon. Shopping, sightseeing, all that."

"Avalon?" Cecilia wrinkled her nose. "Why not somewhere less crowded? You’d hate it the moment someone bumped into you."

Rachel smirked. "And yet, it’s still better than whatever solitary castle you’re planning to sulk in."

Before Cecilia could retort, a shadow fell over our table. Seraphina, with her usual quiet grace, slid into the empty seat beside me. Her silver hair caught the light, making her look like she’d stepped out of a painting.

"Arthur," she said, ignoring the other two entirely, "I have a suggestion."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "Do tell."

"Come with me to the Mount Hua Sect over spring break," she said simply.

Rachel and Cecilia exchanged startled glances, their friendly rivalry momentarily forgotten.

"Mount Hua Sect?" I echoed, leaning forward. "Why?"

Seraphina’s icy blue eyes met mine, unwavering. "Training. You’ve reached a point where you need to refine your techniques. The instructors there can help you."

"Wait," Rachel interjected, her tone skeptical. "Since when does Mount Hua allow outsiders to train with them? Isn’t that… against their rules?"

Seraphina’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile. "I’m not just anyone. My father is the sect leader."

Cecilia leaned back, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "It’s not a bad idea," she admitted. "Your swordsmanship could use polishing, and Mount Hua is famous for its discipline. You’d come back stronger."

I looked between the three of them, feeling like I was being ganged up on by different flavors of logic. Finally, I sighed. "Alright. Mount Hua it is."

Seraphina gave a single, satisfied nod. Rachel shrugged, and Cecilia smirked like she’d just won a bet.

"So much for a quiet spring break," I muttered, already dreading the inevitable uphill battle of training in one of the most prestigious sects in the world.

"Here," Seraphina said, her voice cool and matter-of-fact as she handed me a smooth, ivory plaque engraved with intricate calligraphy. "Entry to Mount Hua Sect."

I took it, feeling the weight of the object both physically and symbolically. The craftsmanship was flawless, its edges glinting faintly under the light, and the script seemed to hum with subtle mana, almost like it recognized its new owner.

Before I could thank her, Seraphina turned on her heel, her silver hair catching the light like a cascade of molten moonlight. "I’ll see you around," she added, her tone as detached as ever, though I caught a faint warmth in the words.

I turned back to the table, where Rachel and Cecilia were watching her retreat with varying degrees of interest. When her figure finally disappeared around a corner, Rachel sighed dramatically and propped her chin on her hand, giving me a long-suffering look.

"Well, well, another one for the collection," she said, smirking. "So, Mr. Collector of Impossible Invitations, how’s the Lich project going?"

"Going well," I replied, sliding the plaque into my spatial ring. "I just need to reach White-rank, and then I’ll be able to finish it."

Rachel raised an eyebrow, her smirk deepening. "You say that like reaching White-rank is a casual stroll through the park. Honestly, how long are you planning to keep destroying common sense, Nightingale?"

"As long as needed," I said with a shrug, meeting her amused gaze with a faint grin of my own. She laughed, the sound light and melodic, and leaned back in her chair, shaking her head like I was some sort of unsolvable puzzle.

Cecilia, who had been quiet until now, tapped her nails against the table in thought before speaking up. "If you were stronger, I would’ve told you to come to the Imperial Palace to train with the knights," she said, her tone almost casual. "Maybe next year, when you hit Integration-rank."

Rachel let out a short laugh, crossing her arms as she glanced at Cecilia. "Oh, how generous of you, Cecilia. Offering him such a grand opportunity—next year."

"It’s not about generosity," Cecilia shot back, her voice cool but not unkind. "You need to be at least Integration-rank to survive the training. The knights don’t coddle anyone, even a Creighton."

"I think what she’s saying, Arthur," Rachel cut in, a teasing lilt in her voice, "is that she wants to see you covered in bruises from Imperial training drills. It’s her way of caring."

Cecilia ignored her, turning her attention back to me. "Think about it seriously. The knights’ training is rigorous, and their methods are second to none. If you want to go beyond White-rank, it’s worth considering."

"I’ll keep that in mind," I said, though the idea of juggling knight drills with everything else on my plate felt exhausting just to imagine. Still, the faint glimmer of challenge in Cecilia’s golden eyes told me she wasn’t joking.

"Good," she said, nodding as if the matter was settled. Then, without missing a beat, she added, "But don’t slack off before then. White-rank isn’t going to come to you just because you’re the anomaly of the year."

Rachel snorted, and I could practically hear the words forming in her head before she said them. "Oh, don’t worry. Arthur’s got this covered. He’ll probably reach White-rank in his sleep, just to make the rest of us feel inadequate."

"Funny," I said dryly. "Do you two rehearse these lines, or is it all improvisation?"

Rachel laughed again, and even Cecilia allowed herself a faint smile. For all their bickering, there was a strange camaraderie between them, like two opposing forces that occasionally found common ground in teasing me.

The plaque from Seraphina felt cool against my fingertips, even in my spatial ring, and I found myself glancing in the direction she’d gone. Mount Hua Sect, Imperial training, White-rank—it all loomed ahead like a tangled web of challenges, each more daunting than the last.