The Extra's Rise-Chapter 181: The End of the Year Festival (4)

After speaking with Paul, everything was finally done. The first year at Mythos Academy had drawn to a close, and I stood at the pinnacle.

Sovereign.

Rank 1.

I had surpassed Lucifer Windward, outlasted Ren Kagu, outdueled the prodigies of my year. The gap between me and the so-called untouchables had vanished—not by chance, but by effort, by sheer force of will.

And yet, standing at the summit, I found myself staring into the distance rather than down at those I had surpassed.

There were still questions—too many, pressing at the edges of my mind. Why was I here? Why had I taken this body? What force had woven my existence into this world?

I did not belong.

And yet, I was here.

I was Arthur Nightingale.

And maybe—just maybe—that was enough.

I needed to move forward, to stop looking over my shoulder at the life I had left behind. Because Emma…

Emma would have wanted me to.

The Sovereign’s Tournament was only the crown jewel of a much larger spectacle—the End of Year Festival, the grand conclusion to the academic cycle at Mythos Academy. An event of prestige and tradition, a final moment of levity before students dispersed for the summer.

The festival was not open to the public, nor was it broadcasted to the world. Mythos Academy stood alone on its secluded island, a place of power and privilege where only the chosen walked. The world could only speculate, could only wait for the students who emerged—stronger, sharper, more prepared for whatever fate had in store for them.

Within the Academy, however, the festival was nothing short of spectacular.

The stone courtyards, usually places of quiet discussion and hurried steps between lessons, had transformed into bustling avenues of lights, music, and energy. Stalls had been erected overnight, each run by students eager to showcase their talents or earn a few credits before the year ended.

One section of the Academy had become a marketplace, selling rare goods from distant lands—enchanted trinkets, carefully inscribed spell tomes, and weapons imbued with unique properties. Another section housed games of skill and magic, where students tested their abilities for sport rather than survival.

Music spilled through the streets from makeshift stages where performers displayed their craft. Ethereal dancers moved in sync with floating ribbons of mana, instruments hummed with sound amplification magic, and illusionists wove dazzling scenes in the air, turning the very sky into a shifting tapestry of colors and constellations.

Laughter and conversation blended into a chorus of life, an atmosphere so removed from the grueling battles of the past weeks that it almost felt like an entirely different world.

And yet, despite the festivities, there was an unspoken reverence in the air. No one openly acknowledged it, but everyone knew—there was a new Sovereign.

Rankings had shifted. The hierarchy had been rearranged.

Arthur Nightingale now stood at the very top.

But in this moment, among the lanterns and laughter, it almost felt like that didn’t matter. Because for the first time in a long while, Mythos Academy was not a battlefield.

It was a place of celebration.

The festival was in full swing, a riot of colors, scents, and sounds that filled the isolated island of Mythos Academy with rare warmth. Lanterns floated lazily through the air, their soft glow adding to the almost dreamlike quality of the evening. Stalls lined the pathways, bursting with all manner of delights—grilled skewers dripping with sauce, bubbling cauldrons of exotic drinks, shimmering enchanted trinkets promising fleeting bursts of luck.

And at the heart of it all was us.

Rachel, Seraphina, Cecilia, Rose, and me.

My family had left for Avalon earlier, leaving me to navigate the chaos of the festival with what could only be described as the four most contrasting personalities imaginable.

Rachel, dressed in a casual t-shirt and jeans, had the confident ease of someone who had walked through a hundred festivals before, her sapphire eyes scanning every stall like a seasoned connoisseur. She was in her element, keeping up an effortless flow of conversation, pausing only to dramatically recommend her favorite foods.

Seraphina, ever composed, walked beside her with an air of quiet detachment. She wore simple, elegant clothes—a flowing dark blouse and slacks, her silver hair catching the lantern light like moonlit silk. She had no real interest in the festival, but she wasn’t against it either. She simply existed in the moment, observing everything with that sharp, analytical gaze of hers.

Cecilia, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. If Rachel was navigating, and Seraphina was observing, Cecilia was conquering. She strode ahead, her cropped top and shorts making it clear she cared more about comfort than anything else, her golden locks bouncing as she grabbed me by the wrist.

"Come on, Arthur," she groaned, dragging me forward with surprising strength. "You move like an old man. If we’re going to do this, we’re doing it my way."

"I am walking," I pointed out.

"You’re ambling," she corrected. "We need to eat. Immediately."

And then there was Rose. Sweet, gentle Rose, somehow both the youngest-looking and the most mature among us. She had her own agenda—mainly consisting of scouting out any bookstalls tucked away in the festival’s hidden corners.

Cecilia, who had no patience for the refined art of wandering, led us straight to the food stalls, where Rachel promptly launched into a passionate speech about the superiority of a particular honey-filled pastry.

"You have to try this," she declared, handing me one.

I bit into it, the warm, sweet filling melting on my tongue. It was, unsurprisingly, very good.

"Not bad," I admitted.

Rachel grinned. "Not bad? It’s perfection. This is the best thing you’ll eat all year."

Seraphina, who had been watching the entire ordeal in silence, finally spoke. "You say that about everything you eat, Rachel."

Rachel turned to her with a dramatic sigh. "That’s because I have taste. I appreciate the finer things in life."

Seraphina blinked, unimpressed. "And yet, you still eat instant noodles when you’re alone."

Cecilia burst into laughter, while Rachel sputtered, trying to come up with a suitable defense. Rose, watching from the sidelines, simply smiled and took a slow sip from the mana-infused tea she had somehow acquired without anyone noticing.

The banter carried on as we moved deeper into the festival.

At some point, we found ourselves by a large fountain, taking a moment to breathe. The sounds of laughter and music filled the air, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was no tension, no battle to fight, no rankings to worry about. Just us.

"So," I said, glancing at them, "Having fun?"

Rose’s voice was gentle. "It’s nice."

"Nice?" Cecilia scoffed. "It’s amazing. I love festivals. They have a kind of reckless charm, don’t you think?"

Rachel stretched her arms above her head, looking perfectly content. "I like the energy. Everyone’s here to enjoy themselves."

Seraphina simply nodded, her ice blue eyes reflecting the lantern light.

Rachel suddenly perked up. "Oh! We have to watch the fireworks. They’re the best part."

"Fireworks?" Seraphina asked. "I’ve never seen them before."

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Rachel gasped, placing both hands on Seraphina’s shoulders. "You—what?"

"I’ve never seen them before," Seraphina repeated, her tone neutral.

Rachel shook her head in exaggerated despair. "This is unacceptable. Completely unacceptable."

Cecilia smirked. "Looks like you’re getting dragged into a new experience, Sera."

Seraphina sighed but didn’t protest.

And so, we made our way to the open field, where the crowd had already gathered. The night sky stretched endlessly above us, clear and dark, waiting. We sat down on the grass, close together, the warmth of the day still lingering in the air.

Then, with a sharp crack, the first firework shot into the sky, bursting into a bloom of gold and silver. The crowd gasped, then cheered, the excitement contagious.

Rachel nudged Seraphina. "Well? What do you think?"

Seraphina’s lips parted slightly as she watched the sky, her usual sharpness fading into something softer. "It’s… beautiful."

More fireworks followed, filling the sky with bursts of crimson, sapphire, emerald—each one illuminating our faces with its glow. The patterns grew more intricate, weaving together in perfect synchrony, an art form of light and magic.

Rachel let out a breathless laugh. "Told you they were good."

Seraphina just nodded, her gaze never leaving the sky.

I leaned back on the grass, letting the world blur around me. There were no battles tonight. No rankings. No burdens. Just fireworks, laughter, and the quiet comfort of being surrounded by people who, in their own ways, made life brighter.

The last firework exploded in a brilliant cascade of gold, lighting up the entire island before fading into the night. The crowd clapped and cheered, but we remained still, lost in the moment.

Rachel stretched, sighing in satisfaction. "That was even better than last year."

"We should do this every year," Rose said softly.