The Extra's Rise-Chapter 239: Tower of Magic (13)

Charlotte exhaled sharply as she stepped back, lifting her hand to her neck.

Her fingers brushed against the wound—a thin, invisible slice, so precise that she hadn’t even felt the cut being made.

"Incredible," she murmured, almost to herself.

She pressed against the wound lightly, expecting it to vanish, for her body’s natural regeneration to mend it instantly.

Nothing happened.

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Her heart skipped a beat.

She was a Radiant-ranker. Her regeneration was leagues beyond mortals, beyond even Immortal-rankers. There wasn’t a force in this world that should be able to leave so much as a scratch on her without her body instantly repairing itself.

Yet—this cut remained.

It didn’t bleed like a normal wound. It simply sat there, a quiet, damning mark of something far beyond her understanding.

And for the first time in a very, very long time, Charlotte trembled.

’If that attack had the intent to kill…’

Her thoughts stalled, her breath hitching for just a moment.

She didn’t want to finish the thought.

Slowly, she turned her gaze back to Arthur.

Still unconscious.

Still breathing.

How?

How was any of this possible?

Arthur was strong for his age, yes. He was dangerous, yes. But this?

This wasn’t something a boy should be capable of.

This wasn’t something anyone should be capable of.

’A message through an attack, huh?’ Charlotte thought, her fingers brushing the wound again.

The cut finally began to close, her regeneration kicking in as if it had just now been permitted to.

And then she saw it.

Faint, almost imperceptible—carved into the very fabric of space itself.

A message.

She read it carefully.

Then—

She sighed.

"Got it," she muttered, rubbing her temple as her mind pieced everything together.

"That makes more sense."

__________________________________________________________________________________

I woke up again, my mind surfacing through layers of exhaustion, only to find Charlotte staring at me.

Not with amusement. Not with exasperation.

Just staring.

Like I was a particularly strange experiment she had yet to categorize.

I groaned, shifting slightly against the mattress. "Did you have to do that?"

Charlotte didn’t hesitate. "Yes."

I narrowed my eyes. "That was quick."

She shrugged. "It was necessary."

I exhaled, already knowing I wasn’t going to like the explanation.

"But regardless," she continued, her tone measured, "I didn’t figure it out anyway."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

Charlotte leaned back slightly, crossing one leg over the other. "All I got was that it’s limited."

I blinked.

"Limited?"

She nodded. "Yes, limited. It’s a power that can threaten even me, but it has restrictions. Especially because of how weak you are right now."

I tensed.

A power that could threaten a Radiant-ranker?

That wasn’t just dangerous—it was terrifying.

’Luna, do you know anything?’ I asked mentally.

Her response was immediate. ’No.’

A pause.

Then, quieter—’I have no idea what this entity is.’

That was unsettling.

Luna wasn’t just some random spirit. She was a Qilin, an entity that had existed for far longer than most beings. If even she didn’t recognize whatever was inside me—

Then what the hell was I dealing with?

Before I could dwell on it further, Charlotte’s voice pulled me back.

"Anyway," she said, shifting gears, "you’ve completed the first stage of the Integration process now."

I blinked. Right. That had happened.

"Since you had a Black and White Star," Charlotte continued, "you can now use Deepdark and Purelight."

I flexed my fingers, testing the flow of mana through my body.

It was different now.

Richer. Denser. Like I had broken past a barrier I hadn’t even known was there.

"Yeah," I murmured. "I’m stronger, no doubt."

Charlotte gave a small, satisfied nod.

Then—unexpectedly—she bowed.

Not dramatically, not in some grand gesture—just a small, precise movement, but it caught me completely off guard.

"And… thank you," she said.

I stared.

"For what?"

"For this," Charlotte gestured vaguely, as if indicating the entire Tower. "Because of you, the Tower of Magic survived."

I opened my mouth, but she continued.

"I already made you my disciple, but that’s not enough. We need to reward you for this. So—what do you want?"

I thought about it.

Artifacts? No.

I already had two Ancient-grade artifacts—things most people in the world would kill for. More wouldn’t help me right now.

Gold? Unnecessary.

What I needed was long-term investment.

"Sponsor my guild," I said.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow.

I leaned forward. "I don’t need immediate rewards. But when I get stronger—when my guild reaches Gold-grade—I’ll ask for something then."

A beat of silence.

Then Charlotte grinned. "Interesting."

She tapped her fingers against the armrest, considering. Then, finally, she nodded.

"Alright. You have a deal."

She tilted her head slightly. "Are you sure that’s all you want?"

I smirked. "I don’t really need an artifact."

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Charlotte sighed, stretching her arms as if rolling the weight of responsibility off her shoulders. "Alright," she said. "Anyway, since the Tower of Magic took considerable damage, we need time to recover. We can’t host you anymore."

I raised a brow. "Are you kicking me out?"

Charlotte smirked. "Not at all. But you’re not part of the Tower. While you are my disciple, you’re not obligated to stay and help with repairs—especially after everything you’ve already done during the attack."

I nodded. That made sense. Even though I wouldn’t have minded helping, my real focus had to be elsewhere now.

"Feel free to stay if you want," Charlotte added, her tone lighter, "but as of now, your training here is officially over—at least for the summer break."

I got up and bowed slightly. "Thank you, Archmage Charlotte."

Charlotte smiled, then turned on her heel and left the room.

I barely had a second to process everything before the door opened again.

Rose stepped in.

She wasn’t in her usual Tower robes. Instead, she wore something simpler—an elegant yet casual outfit that suited her too well.

She smiled at me, brushing a lock of red hair behind her ear. "Hey."

"Hey, Rose," I greeted her with a nod.

She hesitated for a moment. Then—without warning—she knelt.

My breath caught.

She reached out, took my hand, and gently pressed it against her cheek.

Her brown eyes locked onto mine, unblinking, unwavering.

"I love you."

Three words.

Soft. Quiet. But they hit me harder than any spell ever could.

She said it again, slower this time. "I love you so much."

I felt my chest tighten.

Then, her voice dropped to a whisper. "So… can you love me too, even knowing I’m her daughter?"

I didn’t even hesitate.

"That doesn’t matter to me."

Rose’s breath hitched.

I held her gaze, firm and steady. "What matters to me is who you are."

Then, finally—I said it back.

"I love you too."

Rose smiled.

A real, radiant smile that made her entire face light up.

"Good answer," she murmured.

Then she leaned in and kissed me.

Her lips were warm, soft, fierce—the kind of kiss that left no room for uncertainty, no room for hesitation.

She pulled away slightly, a teasing glint in her eyes.

In her free hand, a blue rose materialized, petals shimmering with the soft glow of her Gift.

"This is for you," she said, tucking it behind my ear.

I raised an eyebrow. "Don’t I look weird?"

She giggled, shaking her head. "No. You look cute."

I sighed. "Not sure how I feel about that."

Before I could complain further, the door opened again.

Cecilia stood in the doorway, arms crossed, golden eyes sharp.

She looked between us, raising a brow. "Oh? Are we handing out kisses today?"

Rose didn’t move. She just smirked. "Jealous?"

Cecilia scoffed, stepping into the room with measured grace. "Jealous? No."

Then, in a single smooth movement, she reached out, grabbed my collar, and pulled me down into a kiss.

It was different from Rose’s.

Where Rose’s kiss had been fierce, Cecilia’s was possessive. Slow. Deliberate.

By the time she pulled away, I was pretty sure my brain had short-circuited.

"Now I feel better," Cecilia said, looking very pleased with herself.

The Tower of Magic felt different now.

The halls, once so filled with tension, now carried a strange sense of calm—as if the Tower itself was exhaling after everything it had just endured.

We stood at the entrance, the sky above clear and bright, the air crisp with the scent of magic still lingering in the air.

Charlotte stood beside us, arms crossed.

"Try not to cause too much trouble back at Mythos Academy," she said dryly. "I won’t be there to babysit you."

I smirked. "You say that like I cause problems on purpose."

Charlotte gave me a look.

Cecilia snorted. "He totally does."

Rose nodded. "Absolutely."

I sighed. "Et tu?"

Charlotte chuckled. Then, after a pause, she glanced at Rose. "Take care of yourself."

Rose nodded.

Charlotte’s gaze flickered to me. "And Arthur?"

I straightened. "Yeah?"

She smirked. "Don’t die again."

Then—with a flick of her wrist—she vanished.

I exhaled.

Cecilia stretched, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Alright. Time to head back."

Rose glanced at me. "Ready?"

I looked up at the sky. At the city beyond.

At the future waiting ahead.

Then, finally—I nodded.

"Yeah. Let’s go."