The Extra's Rise-Chapter 146: Spring Break (8)

I spent the remaining days in Mount Hua catching up on the homework I had barely glanced at before, trading conversations with Seraphina that were increasingly less frosty (at least from her side), and pouring myself into learning Illusion Sword. Time, as it often does when one’s hands are full, slipped by without notice, and soon it was time to leave.

Standing before Master Li on the morning of our departure, I bowed deeply, my words sincere. "Thank you for your teachings, Master. I’ll carry everything you taught me with me."

Master Li gave me one of his rare, warm smiles—the kind that made you believe, for a fleeting moment, that he wasn’t the same man who had subjected you to waterfall training for hours on end. "You’re my first and only disciple, Arthur. Don’t put shame on my name. And make me proud in the Sovereign’s Tournament—I’ll be watching."

"I won’t let you down," I said, the weight of his words settling over me like a mantle.

Then, in a move so characteristic of him it bordered on predictable, he leaned in conspiratorially. "And take care of Seraphina, alright? She might be cold and blunt, but she cares about you, even if she pretends not to."

"Uncle!" Seraphina’s foot shot out in a now-practiced motion, catching his shin with a satisfying thud. Li grinned, seemingly impervious to her rebuke, while I struggled to hold back a laugh.

"I know she does," I said, my voice carrying more weight than I intended. I looked at Seraphina and added, "I’ll take care of her."

She stared at me for a moment, her ice blue eyes unreadable, before turning away with an almost imperceptible huff. Without another word, we climbed into the car waiting to take us down the mountain.

The journey back mirrored the one that had brought us to Mount Hua—familiar, yet different. A flight, two warp gates, and then the increasingly familiar sight of Mythos Academy, perched on its isolated island like a fortress of learning. The transitions felt smoother this time, less like disjointed leaps and more like a natural progression. Or maybe I was just eager to get back.

As we neared the Academy, Seraphina broke the comfortable silence that had settled between us. "I hope your visit to Mount Hua met your expectations," she said, her voice calm but with an undertone of curiosity.

"It did," I said, turning to face her. "Though I didn’t get to meet many people there. Your uncle was really the only one I interacted with."

Her expression softened slightly. "That was intentional. You’re not an official disciple of Mount Hua. You don’t practice our sect’s arts. If you had met others, there might have been… complications."

"Complications?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Envy," she said simply, as though that explained everything. And it did, really.

I blinked at her, genuinely surprised by her foresight. "You thought that far ahead?"

She turned her head away, her silver hair catching the light in a way that made it look almost luminescent. "I didn’t want you to deal with anything unnecessary."

"Thanks, Sera," I said, the nickname slipping out before I could think twice. "I’m glad I came."

She turned back to me, her head tilting slightly. "Sera?"

"Can I call you that?" I asked, scratching the back of my neck. I wasn’t sure why I felt nervous about it.

Her lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile, barely there but unmistakable. "If it pleases you."

It did, more than I cared to admit.

By the time we reached the Academy, the sun had dipped low in the sky, painting the horizon in hues of orange and pink. The warp gate left us just outside the sprawling grounds, and the sight of the familiar architecture—the sleek lines and towering spires—brought a strange sense of relief. As much as I’d gained from Mount Hua, there was something comforting about returning to the place where it all began.

’Back to the grindstone, huh?’ Luna’s voice echoed in my mind, the first time she’d spoken since we left Mount Hua.

’You’ve been quiet lately,’ I replied, mentally shrugging as we walked through the gates.

’I’m not much help when it comes to swordsmanship,’ she said. ’Besides, I figured you needed the silence to focus. But now that we’re back, let’s talk about the real elephant in the room. White-rank. You’re close, aren’t you?’

’Very close,’ I admitted.

As Seraphina and I reached the Ophelia dorm, she turned to me, her gaze steady. "Train hard. The Sovereign’s Tournament isn’t far off. I don’t expect you to embarrass Mount Hua."

I grinned. "I wouldn’t dare."

She nodded once, her usual composed self, before disappearing into her floor. I watched her go, feeling the weight of her words settle alongside the expectations of everyone else I’d encountered recently.

White-rank. A Grade 6 art. The Lich. The Sovereign’s Tournament.

Everything was falling into place.

Not entirely there yet, mind you. The pieces weren’t aligned perfectly, but I could feel the shape of it now. Like the hum of a string instrument tuned just a hair too tight, the tension was almost unbearable, but the music it promised to unleash was tantalizing.

Ever since that moment—the epiphany that pulled the threads of my Grade 6 art together—I’d felt the change within me. A shift so subtle at first, I’d mistaken it for exhaustion. But now, it roared like a storm held just beneath my skin. I was closer to White-rank than ever, each breath feeling heavier with the weight of potential.

The others wouldn’t understand. Rachel might cheer me on, Cecilia would make some snarky remark about my sheer audacity, Rose would shake her head with that wry smile of hers, and Seraphina—she’d just tilt her head and mutter, "Crazy bastard," as though it were both an insult and a compliment. They all saw parts of me, but none of them felt this. The sheer need to ascend. To purify. To push.

By the time I reached my room, my chest was tight with anticipation. The door slid shut behind me with the soft hiss of modern hydraulics, sealing me into the quiet sanctuary. The room was stark, functional, but it was mine. And tonight, it would witness something extraordinary.

I sat cross-legged on the mat in the center of the room, the familiar hum of mana flowing through my veins like a second pulse. My breathing slowed, each inhale drawing in the ambient mana around me, each exhale releasing impurities. My hands rested on my knees, palms up, as I focused inward.

The core.

My Silver core shimmered faintly in the depths of my consciousness, encased in that thin, unyielding layer. The casing was a cage, and it had served its purpose, but it was time to break free. Time to ascend.

I began the purification.

The process was painstaking, like trying to filter light through a diamond. I pulled in mana, layer by layer, and pushed it through the core. Each cycle stripped away the imperfections, the impurities. It wasn’t just physical—it was mental, emotional, and spiritual. Every fiber of my being had to be aligned, or the process would fail.

The casing resisted, as it always did. It wasn’t malevolent, just stubborn, like the last stone in a river’s path. I grit my teeth, my focus narrowing further. The air around me seemed to grow heavier, charged with an unseen energy. Sweat trickled down my temples as the resistance increased, the core pushing back against my will.

But I wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t.

The room grew brighter—not from the artificial lighting, but from the glow emanating from within me. The Silver core was reacting now, trembling under the weight of my mana, my resolve. It wasn’t just about force; it was about precision. Each thread of mana had to be perfectly aligned, perfectly directed.

The casing cracked.

A soundless fracture echoed in my mind, and I gasped. The resistance wavered, but it wasn’t enough. Not yet. I pushed harder, pouring everything into the process. My hands trembled, my body aching under the strain, but I refused to stop.

Crack.

The fracture deepened, light spilling through the cracks like the first rays of dawn piercing a storm. My heart pounded, the rhythm syncing with the pulsing glow of the core. This was it—the moment. The wall between Silver and White was crumbling, and I was tearing through it.

With a final surge of effort, the casing shattered.

The light was blinding, a radiant explosion that filled my entire being. The Silver core dissolved, replaced by a pristine, shining White core. It was smooth, flawless, and it hummed with a power that felt alien yet familiar. My breath caught in my throat as the weight of it settled within me, the purity of the mana coursing through my veins unlike anything I’d ever felt.

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I opened my eyes, the world around me sharper, clearer, more vivid than before. The air seemed lighter, the sounds crisper. I flexed my fingers, feeling the surge of power at my command. White-rank.

I was there.

A laugh bubbled up unbidden, not of arrogance but of sheer relief. The journey to this point had been grueling, but standing—or rather, sitting—on this new plateau, I knew it had been worth every moment.