The Extra's Rise-Chapter 495: Lumiaren City (1)

"Hoo," I exhaled, pushing my damp hair back with the kind of dramatic flair normally reserved for shampoo commercials or seasoned war heroes—which, in this case, I technically was. Below me, sprawled in an undignified mess of limbs and ash-stained robes, lay the corpse of a Vampire Elder. Well, formerly. Now he was just a pile of expensive clothing and bad decisions.

First one since Lazarus.

Seraphina landed beside me with the grace of someone who had grown up dodging arrows, expectations, and traditional elven etiquette. Her sword dripped with black blood, and her eyes—ice blue, sharp as shattered glass—immediately flicked to the bite mark just beneath my jaw.

"He tried," I said, already anticipating the accusation. "Didn’t get far. Miasma’s gone, burned it out with Purelight."

That seemed to satisfy her for a half-second, which was about as long as Seraphina ever allowed herself to be satisfied before concern reloaded itself like a well-oiled crossbow.

"He was an Elder, Arthur," she said quietly. "A real one. Not a third-rate blood junkie in a fancy cape. You just—"

"Killed him," I said, grinning. "He was weaker than Lazarus anyway."

Her mouth opened, presumably to chastise me. Unfortunately for her, I scooped her up mid-thought. Princess carry. Classic. Effective. And terribly enjoyable, judging by the red tint now bleeding into her elven ears.

She made a sound that might have been the beginning of a protest or the dying squeak of a flustered half-elf.

"We deserve a break," I declared, ignoring her embarrassment entirely as I adjusted my hold and gave the side of her waist a quick squeeze.

She squirmed. It was adorable.

Eventually, she gave in—like always—and wrapped her arms around my neck, settling her head against my chest. I carried her in no particular direction except ’away from battle’ and ’toward smug victory.’ It was a good path.

"We’re getting deployed," she murmured after a moment. "Another city."

"You didn’t tell me," I said, raising an eyebrow.

"I wanted to wait. Until this mission was over." Her voice lowered. "And... Sun will be there."

That name. A name with the weight of unwanted family dinners and constant comparisons. Sun Zenith. Her older adopted brother. Four years her senior and built like a monument to elven arrogance. Less talented than Seraphina, but more widely recognized because Seraphina hadn’t bloomed yet unlike him.

Seraphina looked down as she said it. Her fingers clutched the fabric of my jacket a little tighter.

"At least he won’t be there long," she added. Quiet. Too quiet.

I stopped walking.

"Look at me," I said. She didn’t. So I just held her tighter. "You’re not someone who should be afraid of someone like him. You’re Seraphina of Mount Hua. The girl who killed a vampire priest without blinking. He doesn’t scare you. Not anymore."

She looked up then. Her voice, when it came, was small and cracked. "Thank you, my prince."

I chuckled. "That’s a dangerous nickname to give me. I might start demanding crowns."

She nuzzled in closer, refusing to look at anyone or anything else, and I took the long path back to camp just below the base of the Mount Hua Sect. The soldiers saluted. Some smirked. Others just looked confused.

Before we reached the gates, Seraphina slid out of my arms, feet touching ground with practiced grace and visible embarrassment.

"I can walk, you know," she muttered, glancing at the crowd.

"But you’re a princess," I offered helpfully. "This is what you deserve."

She glared. I grinned.

We both knew I was going to do it again.

"Arthur. Sera." The voice belonged to Master Li, who strolled up to us with all the urgency of a man who’d seen one too many world-ending catastrophes and was unimpressed by this one. He wore the look of a man balancing the paperwork of a sect, a war, and a generation of emotionally repressed prodigies—not necessarily in that order. With Mo Zenith away fighting at the frontlines against vampires, Master Li had been left in charge of Mount Hua. Deputy Sect Leader, full-time grumbler, part-time babysitter.

"We’re back," I said, trying for cheerful and mostly managing blood-soaked and battle-hardened. "Killed a Vampire Elder."

Li didn’t flinch. Didn’t raise a brow. Didn’t even make a sound of impressed inhalation.

"I figured," he said, waving one hand like I’d just reported I’d picked up groceries. "If it had been a tougher one, you’d have retreated. You wouldn’t risk Seraphina."

Which was true. Painfully, obviously true. The sort of truth that didn’t need to be said but Li said it anyway because that was his entire personality: wisdom, flat tone, the occasional metaphor, and hair that never moved.

I nodded slightly, suppressing the urge to say something sarcastic. Li wasn’t wrong, and besides, I had Luna for that. The qilin in my head was better than any scout or radar—she could assess danger levels with alarming precision and occasional smugness.

Li turned to business. "You’re being redeployed. New city. Not frontlines—too quiet for that now. We’ve reclaimed ground, so we’re moving Sun somewhere his brand of drama is more useful."

Seraphina’s eyes flicked toward him, her face still as calm as moonlight. But Li had known her since she was small enough to hide behind his robes and tug at his sleeves for extra sweets. He didn’t need expressions to read her. He just knew.

"Having the Princess of Mount Hua command the city," he added gently, "makes more sense."

She nodded. Of course she did. The perfect disciple, always carrying the weight of a thousand expectations with her back as straight as her blade. But there was a flicker—just a flicker—of hesitation in her eyes. Li caught it. Didn’t say anything, just reached out and ruffled her silver hair like she was still that little girl trying to memorize every scroll in the sect library before bedtime.

She didn’t resist. She closed her eyes for a moment and let him.

It wasn’t much. But it was more than enough.

"Which city?" I asked, already mentally mapping the reclaimed territories in my head.

"Lumiaren," Li replied. "It’s—"

"The jewel of the Eastern Province," Seraphina finished softly.

That explained the hesitation. Lumiaren wasn’t just any city—it was a cultural landmark.

Li nodded. "You leave at dawn. Get some rest. Both of you." His eyes lingered on the bite mark on my neck. "And have that looked at, Arthur. Vampire Elder venom is nothing to play with, even with your... unique constitution."

With that, he turned and strode back toward the main hall, his robes billowing behind him despite the complete absence of wind. I was convinced he’d mastered some secret technique solely for dramatic exits.

"Come on," I said, nudging Seraphina gently. "Let’s get cleaned up."

The residential area of Mount Hua reserved for honored disciples and important guests was a stark contrast to the battlefield we’d left behind. Seraphina, as the Princess of Mount Hua and daughter of Sect Leader Mo Zenith, was naturally given one of the finest guest pavilions—a beautifully constructed building with curved eaves and moonstone inlays that caught the evening light. My quarters were adjacent to hers, separated by an ornate garden with a small koi pond—close enough to respond if needed, but with propriety firmly maintained.

The servants had already prepared everything: fresh robes laid out, steaming baths drawn, and medicinal herbs set beside porcelain bowls for treating battle wounds. The luxury felt almost jarring after weeks of field tents and hasty camps.

I sank into the cedar-scented bath in my chambers, letting the hot water soothe muscles that had been tensed for combat for too long. The bite wound on my neck stung when it touched the water, but I could feel it healing already—another quirk of my "unique constitution," as Li put it. By morning, it would be nothing more than a faint mark.

After bathing, I changed into the clean robes provided and examined my reflection in the polished bronze mirror. I looked less like a warrior and more like what I supposedly was—an honored disciple of Mount Hua, though I suspected most disciples didn’t have quite so many scars.

A soft knock at my door drew my attention.

"Enter," I called, expecting perhaps a servant with evening tea.

Instead, Seraphina stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind her. She had bathed as well, her silver hair still damp at the ends, falling loose around her shoulders. She wore simple sleeping robes of pale blue silk, elegant but understated. Without her armor and with her hair down, she looked younger, more vulnerable. Less like the legendary half-elven warrior princess and more like the girl who still sometimes had nightmares about her childhood in the sect.

"I thought you would be resting," I said, surprised to see her in my quarters.

"I tried," she replied, her voice soft. Her eyes met mine briefly before sliding away. "But I want to spend time with you."

I understood immediately. The formality of separate chambers meant nothing on nights like these—nights when the weight of tomorrow pressed too heavily to bear alone.

We sat in silence for a while, sipping tea and listening to the gentle sounds of night settling over Mount Hua—distant chimes from the meditation pavilion, the soft splash of koi in the garden pond, the whisper of wind through ancient pines.

Eventually, Seraphina set down her empty cup and rose, moving to the window. The moonlight silvered her hair and caught the delicate elven features of her profile. She looked ethereal, untouchable—and yet I could see the weariness in the line of her shoulders, the vulnerability in her clasped hands.

We sat in silence, just sipping tea before it was time. Seraphina got up to leave, but I grabbed her hand.

"Stay with me," I asked. Her cheeks reddened slightly as she nodded.

The bed in my chambers was large enough for two with room to spare—another luxury of Mount Hua hospitality compared to our usual field accommodations. I took one side, and after a moment’s hesitation, Seraphina slipped beneath the covers on the other, maintaining a careful distance between us.

But in the darkness, that distance gradually disappeared. As if drawn by some inevitable gravity, she moved closer until her head rested against my shoulder, her arm draped lightly across my chest.

I wrapped my arm around her, feeling the tension in her muscles gradually release as she settled against me. Her silver hair spilled across my chest, cool and soft as moonlight.

"Do you think I can do it?" she whispered. "Command Lumiaren, I mean. It’s... it’s not just any city."

"I think," I said, tracing slow circles on her back, "that you could command the sun to change its course and it would seriously consider the request."

That earned me a soft laugh—a rare and precious sound.

"You’re ridiculous," she murmured, but she pressed closer.

"And yet completely correct."

We lay in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds our breathing and the distant murmur of the camp settling down for the night. Gradually, I felt Seraphina’s body grow heavier against mine as sleep began to claim her.