An Unordinary Extra

After finalizing the deal I wanted with Valerie, I returned to my room, my mind already churning with plans. The magnetic door slid shut behind me with a faint hiss, sealing me off from the bustling world outside. My room, spacious and tastefully appointed, felt like a haven of quiet purpose—a reflection of the stature I had earned as Rank 1 of Class 4-A.

I wasn't planning on taking leave from the Academy this semester. The pieces of my plan were coming together, but some parts required time and deliberate preparation. The Tower of Alchemy, for instance, was a goal for the future. To truly achieve what I wanted there, I would need to reach Ascendant-rank first. Anything less would limit what I could accomplish.

Not just that—my initial strategy for leveling up my spellcasting by lingering in the Tower of Magic had shifted. The unexpected support from the Creighton family, and more specifically Alastor Creighton, had changed everything. Their proprietary Astraeus method didn't just match the improved Fuller method developed by the Tower of Magic—it surpassed it entirely.

The Tower of Magic, for all its prestige and exclusivity, remained a few steps behind the Creighton family. After all, this was the family that had ruled the world of spellcasting for centuries, the lineage that had produced the first 9-circle mage. Compared to that, even the Tower of Magic's finest offerings felt like a distant echo.

With the Astraeus method at my disposal, the Tower of Magic was no longer part of my plans. My focus now was singular: forming my Sword Heart, mastering seven-circle magic, and scaling the Wall to reach low Ascendant-rank. These few months would be critical, a window of time where preparation and precision were everything.

And, of course, there was the matter of choosing my classes.

Valerie's condition for my Tower of Alchemy pass required me to take Alchemy 243, a course normally reserved for students building on prior alchemy studies. The passes themselves were meant for those who had completed 400-level alchemy courses, so her decision to make an exception for me was no small concession.

That left me with two additional slots to fill.

The upper years at Mythos Academy operated more like a university than the structured classes of the lower years. The freedom to shape my schedule came with the responsibility to choose wisely. For me, the choice was clear.

I would enroll in Mana Circle V and Spellcasting IV. Both were advanced courses designed to delve into the intricate theory of spellcasting and mana manipulation. Reaching seven-circle magic required more than just raw power—it demanded an intimate understanding of the frameworks that underpinned the art. While books and online resources were valuable, they could only take me so far. The depth of knowledge these classes offered would be indispensable.

As I sat on the edge of my bed, my thoughts drifted to the months ahead. The Tower of Alchemy, the Sword Heart, the Wall—each goal felt like a piece of a vast puzzle. The path was daunting, but it was also exhilarating.

For now, though, I let the weight of the moment settle. My course was set, and the first step lay here, within the halls of Mythos Academy.

The next morning began in the training hall, the faint hum of modern machinery and the soft glow of the surrounding runic walls forming the backdrop to my practice. My sword rested lightly in my hand, its weight familiar, almost comforting. Today, I would take the Grade 4 art: Spectral Sword for a spin—the gift Master Li had given me, brimming with promise and challenge.

Having mastered Illusion Sword to the zenith realm of mastery, I had found myself already nearing the virtuoso realm in this art. The synergy between the two was undeniable, each movement, each strike, building upon the foundations I had painstakingly laid. It was as though Illusion Sword had been a prelude, and now, Spectral Sword was the symphony.

Since I had monstrous talent, I must build a perfect foundation. My Sword Heart will only be as strong as the roots I laid now.

The Sword Heart wasn't just a milestone; it was a transformation, a vessel that would one day elevate my swordsmanship into something unparalleled. For that, every swing, every step, had to be flawless.

I exhaled slowly, the enhanced aura cladding my sword flickering like a restless flame. It resonated with my movements, as though responding to my thoughts. My eyes slid shut as I centered myself, my mind drawing on the memory of Spectral Sword's intricate patterns. The movements were etched into me, not just as techniques but as a language, one I was still learning to speak with fluency.

And then, I swung.

The blade cut through the air with a sound that was more felt than heard, a resonant hum that seemed to ripple through the very fabric of the hall. The aura surrounding the sword flared brilliantly, leaving faint traces in its wake—phantom echoes of my strike, as though the blade had danced not once but a dozen times in a single motion.

I opened my eyes, watching the shimmering afterimage fade into the stillness. My grip tightened on the hilt, the faintest smile tugging at my lips. The synergy was there, the resonance perfect. Each swing felt like a step closer to something greater, a foundation being carved in stone.

The training hall was silent, save for the rhythmic sound of my breathing and the low hum of the sword's aura.

'Not bad,' I thought as I lowered my sword, its edge gleaming faintly with the lingering traces of aura. A Grade 4 art was leagues more challenging to master than a Grade 3, the complexity in its patterns demanding not just skill but precision born of relentless practice. Under normal circumstances, it would take me about a year to master an art of this caliber from scratch.

But the synergy effect was undeniable. The foundation I had laid with Illusion Sword shortened the road ahead, weaving the two arts into a seamless progression. I was confident I would reach the zenith realm of mastery before the formation of my Sword Heart was complete and I scaled the Wall. It wasn't just a matter of talent—it was preparation, every step meticulously planned.

Satisfied for now, I sheathed my sword and let out a slow breath, my focus shifting from the training hall to the day ahead.

Satisfied, I returned to my room, a shower washing away the exertion of training and leaving me feeling sharp and focused. The crisp folds of my Mythos Academy uniform settled perfectly into place as I prepared for class.

Stepping out into the hallway, I froze mid-stride. Standing there, as if waiting for me, were Rachel, Cecilia, and Seraphina. Each of them wore the same uniform, yet they seemed to transform it into something unique—something unmistakably theirs.

Rachel's vibrant smile lit up her face the moment she saw me, her energy as infectious as ever. "Arthur!" she said brightly, waving with an enthusiasm that seemed to fill the hallway with light.

Beside her, Cecilia leaned casually against the wall, her teasing grin curving like a challenge waiting to be spoken. "Well, well," she purred, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she surveyed me. "Aren't you looking sharp this morning?"

Seraphina stood slightly apart from them, her quiet composure a stark contrast to the other two. She said nothing, her golden eyes meeting mine with a calm warmth that carried more meaning than words ever could.

"Well, this is a surprise," I said, breaking the silence as I stepped toward them.

"Not really," Rachel said with a cheerful laugh. "We thought it'd be fun to walk together. Right, Cecilia?"

"Absolutely," Cecilia said, her voice dripping with amusement. "And by fun, she means we wanted to see how you'd react."

Seraphina's lips quirked ever so slightly—a rare hint of amusement—but she remained silent, watching the exchange with her usual composure.

"And what's the verdict?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as I fell into step with them.

Rachel laughed again, her energy practically skipping ahead of us. "That you're predictable, Arthur. You act all composed, but we can still catch you off guard."

Cecilia leaned in slightly as we walked, her voice low and teasing. "Not that we mind, of course. You're more interesting when you're a little flustered."

"I'm not flustered," I said, shrugging with practiced ease.

"Sure you're not," Cecilia replied, her grin widening.

Seraphina walked quietly beside me, her presence steadying amid the playful banter. She glanced at me briefly, her gaze holding the deep love she felt towards me.

Perhaps staying in the Academy was the right decision.