The Extra's Rise

"Alright, teach me now."

Cecilia's voice was smooth, expectant, the kind of tone that suggested she had already decided this was happening, and my input was purely optional.

We stood in one of Mythos Academy's private training grounds, the kind that ensured absolute privacy—walls reinforced with mana shielding, monitoring systems disabled upon request, an environment designed for students who wanted to train in secret, away from prying eyes.

And that's exactly why she had chosen it.

No spectators. No instructors breathing down our necks. Just the two of us, and a method of training that was very much illegal.

I rolled my shoulders, exhaling slowly. "You're really this determined to do it?"

Cecilia grinned, tapping her fingers against her hip. "You make it sound like I have a choice."

"You do."

She laughed. "No, I really don't."

Then, before I could argue, she tilted her head slightly, her crimson eyes gleaming.

"Unless," she said, "you're scared I'll handle it better than you did?"

I gave her a flat look. "That's not how pain works."

"Pain is subjective, Art," she countered, stepping closer, her smirk widening. "And I like to think I have a higher tolerance than most."

I sighed. This was going to be a nightmare.

"Fine. We start now."

I explained the process carefully, because if she messed this up, the Academy wouldn't need to arrest us—she'd cripple herself long before they found out.

The concept was simple, in theory: force the body into overloading its mana circuits, break them down at a controlled pace, and force them to rebuild stronger.

In practice?

It felt like setting yourself on fire and hoping you came out the other side still breathing.

Cecilia, naturally, was thrilled.

"Oh, I love this already," she murmured as she began channeling mana through her circuits, following my instructions with an almost unnerving level of precision.

At first, it was slow, her body adapting to the strain, her breathing even. But then—

She pushed harder.

Her crimson aura flared violently, swirling around her like a storm barely contained within human form.

And that was when I realized—

She was learning this faster than I had.

I had spent hours gradually pushing myself, my body barely keeping up, the process a constant battle of willpower and self-preservation.

Cecilia?

She was embracing it.

She was forcing herself to adapt at a speed that should have been impossible.

My stomach twisted slightly.

She was already this strong—and once she hit high Silver-rank, she'd reach Rachel's level outright.

This wasn't just raw talent.

This was someone who had been playing below their level, waiting for an excuse to accelerate.

I clenched my fists.

I needed to move faster.

I had planned to go after the Beast Will during winter break—after I had built my strength further, secured my footing, and ensured I was fully prepared.

But if Cecilia and other geniuses were going to skyrocket like this, then my timeline needed to change.

Fall break.

I needed to get the Beast Will during fall break.

Before everyone outpaced me completely.

Before I became irrelevant in Class A.

Before I was just another stepping stone in someone else's story.

After I finished teaching Cecilia, I went through the same grueling training myself, forcing my mana circuits to strain, crack, and rebuild.

It was a brutal process, but I could already feel the difference—mana flowing smoother, denser, more controlled.

I should reach high Silver-rank before the midterms.

If I could do that, then my ranking in Class A wouldn't just be a placeholder—I could actually contend for a higher seat.

By the time we staggered out of the training hall, the effects of exhaustion creeping in, the Academy's artificial lighting had already dimmed to signify the late hour.

As we made our way back to the dorms, Cecilia hummed thoughtfully beside me before flicking her wrist, tapping her spatial ring.

A sleek black I.D. card materialized between her fingers.

She held it out, tilting her head.

"This training deserves some reward," she said casually.

I blinked. "What?"

"I had a five-star adventurer license made for you."

I stared at the card, feeling the weight of what that meant before carefully taking it from her hands.

"I think it'll be useful," Cecilia continued, watching my reaction with undisguised amusement. "Consider it payment for your little training session."

I turned the card over in my hands. "…Thank you."

I had meant it, for exactly three seconds—

Until Cecilia covered her mouth with a laugh, her crimson eyes gleaming with delight.

"Aww, are you happy?" she teased.

Any goodwill I had felt toward her instantly evaporated.

I sighed. "I hate you."

She winked. "No, you don't."

I resisted the urge to throw the I.D. back at her.

________________________________________________________________________________

We gathered in the training hall with all first years, waiting for the instructors to arrive. The hum of quiet conversations filled the air—most of them about rumors of the upcoming midterms.

Then, the doors swung open, and Instructor Nero walked in, his usual calm but authoritative presence settling the room instantly.

"Attention, first years."

The murmuring died down immediately.

"As you know, midterms are approaching. However, before that, the Academy has arranged a practical evaluation—one designed to prepare you for real-world survival scenarios with all sections."

A few students shifted, their expressions mildly intrigued.

Nero's grey eyes scanned the room.

"You will be dropped onto an uninhabited island and expected to survive for one week."

A noticeable pause.

"You will not be ranked based on this test. It is not a competition, but an exercise in experience-building. However, make no mistake—your performance will be closely observed."

"The environment will be harsh. You will be expected to forage for food, construct shelter, and defend yourselves against mana beasts."

I barely stopped myself from sighing. Of course it wouldn't be just normal survival.

Lucifer, sitting a few feet away, looked unbothered, while Ian grinned like this was the best news he'd heard all week.

Rachel, however, furrowed her brows. "No groups?"

Nero tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering through his eyes.

"That," he said, "will be up to you."

Cecilia laughed softly under her breath.

I had a very bad feeling about this.