The Extra's Rise-Chapter 209: Northern Sea Ice Palace (10)

"Ha," I exhaled, dropping to my knees.

It hurt.

Not the kind of pain that could be ignored, not the sharp sting of a wound or the dull ache of exhaustion. This was the kind that settled deep, crawled into your bones, refused to leave.

The kind that overshadowed everything else.

The pain of losing her.

The pain of losing something you cared about more than yourself.

The pain of being powerless.

That was why I swore to get stronger when I came to this world. Not just because I knew the future, not just because I had the advantage of foresight.

No, it was more than that.

It was excitement.

Because in a world like this, with mana and monsters and limitless potential, it was possible.

In my old world, no matter how intelligent I was, no matter how many plans I devised, there had always been limits. I could run. I could outthink. I could survive. But I could never win.

Not against the world.

Not against the machine of power that crushed people like me without a second thought.

Not against them.

And I had learned that lesson the hard way, as I held Emma’s broken body in my arms, as her warmth faded, as her blood soaked into the cracks of the pavement, as the only colour in my grey world disappeared.

I had lost.

And I had hated it.

But in this world, I could become so strong that no one would ever be able to take something from me again.

Strength. That was what I needed.

Enough to make the world itself bow.

Enough to protect what was mine.

Enough to make violence the only language that mattered.

And I wanted it. Badly.

The ability to inflict pain, to deter anyone from even thinking about taking what I held dear.

Because even if I didn’t have Emma, I was going to move forward.

I was going to love again.

I was going to protect again.

And I was going to win.

Compared to that pain, nothing else even came close.

The pain of pushing my mana circuits to the limit?

The pain of near-death experiences?

Pfft.

Pathetic.

They were comforts, compared to what I had already suffered.

What was a few broken ribs next to the nights I spent running, bleeding, starving, unable to stop, unable to grieve, because the second I did, I would die?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

So if it meant I could be strong enough to protect the people who mattered to me—

If it meant I could stand at the top of the world and never have to kneel again—

I would sell my soul to the devil himself.

But in the end…

Would it be enough?

Would I be enough?

I had beaten Lucifer, yes. But that was him at his weakest.

And he would only grow faster now. He would catch up. He would surpass me.

And even he—the Second Hero, the strongest of his era—had died.

I needed more.

More desire.

More impulse.

More hatred.

Yet—

Somewhere, deep inside, a voice whispered.

You can’t.

You can’t protect them.

You will fail.

You will lose again.

Just like you did with Emma.

Right.

I—

"Arthur!"

A voice—sharp, clear, real—cut through the illusion like a blade. The world around me trembled, splintering at the edges.

An intruder.

How?

Then—warmth.

Arms wrapped around me, firm and unrelenting, pulling me into something solid. My head found its place against something soft, a steady rhythm beating beneath my cheek.

Fingers laced through my hair, threading gently, comforting, grounding.

I froze.

"Arthur, it’s okay to cry."

Seraphina’s voice.

A whisper.

Soft.

Close.

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"Because… I’m here to listen."

Cry?

I don’t cry.

I hadn’t cried in years.

Emotions were flaws in the system, irrational variables that led to mistakes.

Annoying. Useless.

I couldn’t wallow. I couldn’t slow down.

I had to move forward. I had to keep going.

I had to—

"Arthur, it’s okay to slow down."

Seraphina’s voice, gentle but firm, as if she could see straight through me.

"Please."

Slow down?

I—

I can’t.

I can’t take a break. I can’t stop moving.

If I stop, if I let my guard down—I’ll lose again.

I must—

"I can’t lose," I muttered.

She only held me tighter.

"I’m sorry you can’t trust me," she whispered.

"I’m sorry you don’t believe in me enough. I’m sorry for being unworthy to listen to you."

I said nothing.

"Even then, I wish to comfort you."

Her voice was softer now, barely more than breath.

"I wish to hold you. I wish to love you. Please, Arthur… right now, in your worst moment, allow me to hold you."

My worst moment?

This was my worst moment?

I had lived through worse. I had survived the nights when I had to keep moving, keep hiding, keep running, because if I stopped, I would be dead by morning.

I had wanted to cry, so many times, but I hadn’t.

Because there was no one to hold me.

No one but myself.

No one to tell me it was okay.

No one to whisper that I could slow down.

’How could I forget?’

When I came to this world…

Had I just wanted to win? Had I just wanted to be the strongest?

What was the point of getting stronger if I had nothing to fight for?

I wanted to love.

I wanted to be loved.

I wanted to live.

And, for the first time in years—

I let myself breathe.

"I’m sorry," I murmured, pulling Seraphina closer, my arms tightening around her. "I was lost."

For so long, I had avoided my past, shoving it into the darkest corners of my mind, refusing to acknowledge it.

But wasn’t that exactly what I didn’t want Seraphina to do?

I had brought her here—to the ruins of the Northern Sea Ice Palace—so she could confront her ghosts, so she could move beyond them.

And yet, what had I been doing all this time?

Running.

Avoiding.

Hiding behind logic, behind control, behind the delusion that if I never looked back, the past couldn’t touch me.

I was afraid.

Pathetically afraid.

And it had been holding me back.

Because just like Seraphina, Rachel, and Cecilia, I too had my own trial to face.

I closed my eyes, inhaling the cold air, letting it settle in my lungs.

No more avoiding.

No more running.

’I’ll move past you, Emma.’

I whispered the thought to myself, a silent vow, as I held Seraphina even closer. My fingers found their way into her silver hair, caressing the back of her head.

She didn’t pull away.

I exhaled, looking down at her.

"Thank you," I said softly, pressing my forehead against hers.

Seraphina blinked, cheeks dusted pink, her breath warm against my lips. "No need to thank me," she muttered, shifting slightly.

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My gaze flickered down—to her lips.

Plump. Red.

Before I could stop myself, I leaned in.

Seraphina stiffened for half a second—then, just as quickly, melted into the kiss.

Soft. Warm. Alive.

When we finally pulled away, I smirked. "You’re not the only one who can surprise with a kiss, you know."

Her narrowed eyes told me exactly what she thought of that.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked, voice quiet, almost careful.

"Yeah," I nodded, this time with certainty. "Thanks again, Sera."

"Always," she murmured, her arms wrapping around me again, a silent reassurance, her face nuzzling against mine. "I was worried."

"I’m alright," I whispered back, closing my eyes, breathing her in.

She smelled like honey—a soft, lingering sweetness.

When we finally pulled apart, I met her gaze, a soft smile tugging at my lips.

Then, I glanced downward.

Something wasn’t right.

"Pervert," Seraphina said immediately.

It lacked any real bite—but her cheeks were red.

I frowned. Wait.

"Hold on—" I started, mind working through the details. "Sera, when you hugged me first, did you—?"

"Pervert," she repeated, this time even redder, before swiftly getting off me.

Then, after a pause—"...Did you like it?"

She wasn’t denying it.

I blinked.

’Wow, she’s just going to say that out loud, huh?’

Luna’s voice abruptly cut into my thoughts.

I almost jolted.

’You saw that?!’ I shot back.

’Obviously,’ Luna deadpanned. ’I’ve been able to see since the illusion.’

I sighed internally. ’Ever consider not spying on private matters?’

Luna scoffed. ’Please. To me, this is like watching two baby rabbits nuzzle each other.’

I stared at nothing.

’That is the weirdest analogy you could have chosen.’

Luna hummed, entirely unbothered. ’But not inaccurate.’

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head.

Seraphina, meanwhile, was still very much red-faced, but with a victorious glint in her eye.

I had no doubt she’d be bringing this up again.