The Cursed Extra: Bloodline of Sacrifice-Chapter 125: Towards Academy
The crowd roared with applause as the top three candidates stood on the podium —
Caspian in second place, Vynesaa in first, and Lyrius in third.
His gaze kept shifting — not toward the crowd or the cameras — but toward Lyrius.
He stood rigid, barely holding himself together.
"Now... Welcome our Chief Guests — King Thalodir Atticus and Queen Elizabeth Atticus!"
The crowd erupted again.
The King and Queen approached, flanked by royal guards.
Thalodir carried himself like a conqueror — powerful, commanding.
The Queen followed a few steps behind, her presence colder — composed yet distant.
Her silken dress trailed behind her.
When they reached the podium, the King barely acknowledged Lyrius, thrusting the third-place award into his hands.
"Great performance"
Lyrius took it, his fingers curling tightly around the medal.
Then king awarded us and after that moved on.
As Elizabeth turned to leave, Lyrius muttered under his breath:
"You've forgotten me... haven't you?"
The words were barely audible over the noise — but Caspian heard them. So did Vynesaa.
The Queen froze mid-step. Slowly, she turned back, her brow furrowing.
"Excuse me?" she asked softly.
Lyrius raised his head. His eyes locked onto hers — cold.
"You don't remember, do you?" Lyrius said, his voice tightening. "The boy you abandoned. The child you left to rot in the streets while you played queen."
A cold silence followed.
The Queen's smile faltered. Her posture stiffened, but she held her composure.
"You must be mistaken..." she said carefully, her voice quieter now.
But Lyrius's glare hardened. His grip on the medal trembled.
"Mistaken?" he spat. "You didn't even bother to look for me." His voice cracked. "You married a king and forgot your own son."
For a moment, the Queen said nothing.
"What's your name?" she asked quietly.
"Lyrius Ryder."
She blinked — her face pale.
"...Your father's name?"
Lyrius's expression twisted with rage. He forced the words out through gritted teeth.
"Gashin Ryder."
The Queen's breath hitched.
Her eyes widened, her lips parting slightly as though she wanted to speak but couldn't find the words.
"No..." she whispered. "No, that's... that's impossible."
"Impossible?" Lyrius hissed. His fingers dug into the medal so tightly"You left us with nothing. My father died still believing you'd come back. I... I had to eat rats just to survive."
The Queen's face — once serene and unshaken — cracked like fragile glass. Her mask of royalty crumbled, leaving behind a woman who looked suddenly... small.
"I..." her voice faltered. "I didn't know..."
Lyrius scoffed.
"You didn't want to know."
The Queen swallowed hard.
For a moment, she simply stood there — vulnerable in a way no one in the audience could see.
Only Caspian and Vynesaa were close enough to witness the truth written across her face — regret, disbelief, and something else...
Fear.
Finally, she reached into her sleeve and drew a small black card.
"Take this." Her voice barely held steady. "Show this to the guards if you want to meet me."
She placed the card on top of Lyrius's medal.
"I'll be waiting."
Her gaze lingered a second longer before she turned and walked away, her steps less graceful than before.
Caspian watched her leave, then shifted his gaze to Lyrius.
The boy's expression didn't soften — not even slightly. His fingers hovered above the card like it was some kind of curse.
For a long moment, Lyrius stood still — shoulders trembling, teeth clenched.
Then, without warning, he flung the card off the podium.
It fluttered in the wind before landing in the dirt below.
"I don't need her pity," Lyrius muttered.
But Caspian saw the truth — the slight tremor in his hand, the way his gaze lingered on that card even after he turned away.
He wanted to believe her.
But some wounds cut too deep.
.
The plane hummed steadily as it soared above the clouds.
The academy has provided him— sleek leather seats, spacious aisles, and crystal-clear windows offering a view of the endless sky.
But none of that mattered to Caspian right now.
"I'm saying this for the last time — will you just leave me alone?" Caspian snapped.
Darian — sprawled in the seat next to him — barely reacted. His smug grin only widened.
"What's the problem, huh?" Darian leaned closer. "Still mad about that match?"
Caspian exhaled slowly.
"I'm warning you," Caspian muttered, voice low. "Just stop talking."
"Caspian, deal with him." Oliver's voice chimed in from the row behind. "He's been like this since we boarded or it might be because he lose to me and you."
Darian twisted in his seat, glaring over his shoulder.
"Who, me? Lose to you? In your dreams."
"You didn't just lose," Oliver shot back, lazily resting his chin on his fist. "You barely lasted a minute before I put you down."
"You didn't put me down! You Asshole" Darian barked.
Caspian pinched the bridge of his nose. "Gods above…" he muttered.
His patience — already thin — was unraveling.
Behind them, Lyrius was fast asleep.
His arms were folded tightly across his chest, head leaning against the window.
Calenthir sat quietly beside him, reading a thin book with a focused expression. Every few minutes, her gaze flickered toward Lyrius — a brief look of concern she quickly masked.
Two rows ahead, Fianna and Vynesaa were deep in conversation.
Caspian couldn't hear what they were saying, but Vynesaa's expression shifted rapidly — one moment serious, the next unusually animated.
That's rare... Caspian thought.
He knew Vynesaa well enough to recognize her pride wouldn't let her warm up to just anyone.
Yet here she was, laughing softly at something Fianna said.
Strange.
'They weren't this type of friends in novel i guess'
"Oi." Darian's voice snapped Caspian back to the present.
"What?" Caspian growled.
"You know…" Darian smirked, "For someone who came second, you sure look miserable."
"And for someone who came fourth, you sure talk a lot," Caspian shot back.
Darian blinked, momentarily stunned. Then he barked out a laugh.
"Fair point!" He grinned like an idiot.
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For a moment, Caspian thought that was the end of it.
But no.
"Anyway…" Darian shifted closer again. "What's up with you and Vynesaa, huh?"
Caspian's gaze turned sharp.
"What?" Darian feigned innocence. "You're telling me she didn't like you? Come on, man — she practically stabbed you with love."
"She stabbed me because she wanted to win."
"Yeah, yeah — sure." Darian grinned wider. "But it's always the crazy ones who—"
"Shut up." Caspian's voice dropped.
"Or what?" Darian chuckled. "You gonna stab me too?"
"Maybe I should."
Darian's grin faltered.
"That's enough."
The calm yet firm voice belonged to Oliver.
He was still slouched in his seat, but his sharp gaze locked onto Darian like a blade.
"Quit being a moron," Oliver said flatly.
For a second, Darian looked ready to argue.
"Fine," Darian muttered, finally leaning back. "Whatever."
Caspian exhaled deeply, closing his eyes.
Finally… silence.
Hours passed, and the mood inside the plane shifted.
The loud chatter had faded, replaced by soft murmurs and the occasional snore.
The academy's towering spires finally came into view through the windows — distant yet unmistakable.
"We're almost there," Caspian muttered under his breath.
The entrance exam was over.
But something told him...
The real fight was only just beginning.