The Extra's Rise

'This is like a zombie apocalypse... when did the genre change?' I thought as I channeled Purelight, its divine energy purifying the miasma infecting three citizens. The corruption receded from their eyes and skin, their humanity returning as the forced zombification reversed.

They bowed in gratitude before hurrying into a nearby shelter, their movements still unsteady from the ordeal. Another small victory in what was becoming an overwhelming battle.

'Arthur, your friends are in danger,' Luna's presence pulsed with urgency in my mind.

I pursed my lips, already aware of what that meant. Bishop Lyra would be at the hotel by now, confronting my classmates with power beyond their comprehension. Unlike the weaker Bishop Vale I'd faced in Redmond, Lyra was one of the Covenant's true elites—a prodigy groomed to become their next Pope.

Even with more allies this time, the question remained: could I win against someone who had already achieved a Spear Heart when I hadn't even mastered Sword Resonance?

'Doubt is not something you should entertain,' Luna chided, her mental voice cutting through my hesitation. 'And you need to hurry... your friends are in real danger.'

That gave me pause. According to the original narrative, Class A would be overwhelmed but ultimately spared, as Lyra merely toyed with them before my arrival. The fact that Luna sensed genuine danger meant something had changed from the story I knew.

This wasn't the novel anymore—this was reality, with real stakes and real consequences.

"Rose," I said, wrapping an arm around her waist without explanation.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn't resist as I gathered mana for a leap that would cover the distance to the hotel in seconds. The moment my feet left the ground, I heard it—a thunderous roar echoing across the city, followed by abrupt silence.

'Ian!' The recognition was immediate as I spotted the ephemeral silhouette of a dragon materialized briefly before dissipating into nothingness. His ultimate technique, summoning the spectral form of his ancestral dragon bloodline, had failed.

"A dragon, yet so weak," a sweet voice carried through the night air with unnatural clarity, sending involuntary chills down my spine as we landed outside the shattered entrance of the Crystalline Haven.

My blood ran cold at the sight that greeted us. The lobby had been transformed into a battlefield—or more accurately, a slaughterhouse. My classmates lay scattered across the devastated space, each displaying signs of overwhelming defeat.

Ian knelt in a pool of his own blood, spectral dragon energy still fading from around his collapsed form. Jin and Ren had been thrown against a wall with enough force to crack the reinforced structure. Seraphina's ice constructs lay melted around her unconscious body. Rachel's Purelight had dimmed to almost nothing as she struggled to maintain consciousness. Cecilia, despite her notorious stubbornness, could barely lift her head, blood streaming from her eyes and ears. Clara lay completely motionless, only the slight rise and fall of her chest indicating she still lived.

And at the center of it all stood Lucifer, his perfect form now a study in desperate resistance, blood streaming from his overused God's Eyes as he prepared for one final stand.

"Rose, take care of them," I said, my voice steady despite the fury building within me.

Erebus's Bone Armour materialized with unusual intensity, crimson plates interlocking over my skin as I channeled more Deepdark than I typically risked. The calcified structure glowed with ominous purpose, responding to my heightened emotional state.

Before I could engage, Lucifer launched his desperate final attack. His sword sang through the air, enhanced aura resonating across its edge as he executed the ultimate movement of his Grade 6 art. White and black mana swirled around the blade, complemented by the six elemental affinities he had mastered, all converging in a perfect strike that represented the pinnacle of his current capabilities.

"Not too shabby," Lyra commented with casual indifference, meeting his attack with a simple thrust of her spear.

The disparity in power became painfully evident. Lucifer's enhanced aura shattered on contact, his body hurling backward from the impact. Yet I noticed something others might have missed—Lyra's spear had been pushed back slightly, despite her not bothering to use her own Grade 6 art against him.

'How arrogant!' The thought blazed through my mind as I activated God Flash.

My own blade, wreathed in concentrated Purelight, closed the distance in an instant. The attack was perfectly timed to exploit the millisecond opening created by Lucifer's final effort—a continuation of his assault that Lyra couldn't have anticipated from a new combatant.

The Purelight edge sliced through space, aimed precisely at the junction between Lyra's neck and shoulder, a killing blow by any standard measure.

For the first time, surprise flickered across her features—not fear, but genuine interest as she recognized the technique for what it was. Her reaction defied normal perception, spear shaft angling to intercept my blade with such speed that the air between us distorted from displaced energy.

The collision sent shockwaves throughout what remained of the lobby, the final windows shattering as pure energy dissipated outward. I maintained my footing, enhanced Bone Armour absorbing enough of the impact to keep me from being thrown backward like my classmates.

"Well, well," Lyra's eyes gleamed with newfound excitement as she studied me. "You must be Arthur Nightingale. Jack mentioned you were interesting, but he failed to mention just how interesting."

I didn't respond to the bait, instead taking the momentary pause to assess the battlefield more thoroughly. Rose had already moved to Rachel's side, her Paradox Gift active as she attempted to reverse the worst of the injuries. Lucifer was struggling back to his feet, stubborn determination written across his bloodied features despite the obvious futility of further resistance.

"I suppose introductions are in order," Lyra continued, twirling her spear with playful grace that belied its deadly precision. "Bishop Lyra of the Umbravale Covenant, future Pope and architect of tonight's entertainment."

She glanced around at my fallen classmates with casual disinterest. "Your friends put up an admirable effort, especially the Windward boy. Such talent, such potential—wasted on the wrong side of history."

The Spear Heart in her chest pulsed, its rhythmic vibrations sending ripples through the ambient mana. Each pulse represented mastery beyond anything I had achieved—the perfect synchronization between wielder and weapon that transformed technique into transcendence.

I fell into a defensive stance, Evolvis held in perfect form as I gathered my focus. Against an opponent of this caliber, a single mistake would mean death—not just for me, but for everyone in this room.

"Let's see if you live up to your reputation," Lyra said, her childlike smile widening to unnatural proportions as astral energy began to coalesce around her spear. "Show me."