The Extra's Rise-Chapter 104: Rank 2

Returning to Avalon, I found myself barricaded in my room, surrounded by an impressive fortress of books, scrolls, and digital holo-screens. The content of my studies was dense—dark mana theory, necromantic binding processes, mana circuitry, and something called "soul stabilization matrices," which sounded more like the title of a sci-fi thriller than a spell formula. Every sentence I read felt like it was written by someone who hated the concept of simplicity.

'Why is this so convoluted?' I thought, running a hand through my hair. My current understanding of spells and mana was like a child trying to build a spaceship out of wooden blocks—hopelessly outmatched. Even Lucent Harmony, my greatest asset, could barely scratch the surface of these theories.

Still, there was no choice but to press on. The skull Alastor had entrusted to me wasn't just an artifact; it was a key to the future, and understanding it was crucial if I wanted to stand a chance in the coming months. As daunting as the task was, it also stoked the fires of my ambition. But for every hour spent grappling with the mysteries of necromancy, I made sure to carve out moments for my family.

Winter break passed in a strange rhythm: mornings buried in books, afternoons spent sparring with Aria or joining my father for guild meetings, and evenings enjoying my mother's cooking. These small pockets of normalcy were precious, but the looming return to Mythos Academy was always there in the back of my mind, like a deadline I could never escape.

Eventually, the day came when I had to leave. Standing by the door of our penthouse apartment, Aria looked at me with crossed arms and a faint pout.

"Try not to get into too much trouble, okay? You attract drama like a moth to a mana lamp," she said, half-teasing.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I replied, ruffling her hair.

"Don't mess up," my father said simply, though there was warmth behind the gruffness of his voice.

My mother pulled me into a tight hug. "Don't forget to write, Arthur. Or call. Or send a hologram. Honestly, just send anything so I know you're alive."

"I'll try," I said, and her frown told me she saw right through the lie.

With that, I boarded the sleek, silver hyperloop train to Mythos Academy. The journey felt oddly calming, the hum of the magnetic tracks a comforting backdrop as I stared out at the futuristic cityscapes giving way to untamed forests and shimmering lakes.

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Once I reached the Academy, stepping through its grand gates was like slipping into another world. Mythos was as awe-inspiring as ever: tall, shining spires that seemed to pierce the heavens, advanced holographic displays showcasing upcoming tournaments, and students milling about with the quiet hum of competitive energy in the air.

My dorm room greeted me like an old friend, the same stark, efficient design I had left behind. After unpacking my things and ensuring the skull Alastor had entrusted me with was securely stored in a heavily warded container, I took a deep breath. Home away from home.

The next day, I met Rose Springshaper outside one of the Academy's sprawling training arenas. She was as vibrant as ever, her long auburn hair cascading in waves and her green eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. "Arthur!" she called out, waving.

"Rose," I greeted, smiling faintly. "Back from the Tower, I see?"

She nodded, practically bouncing on her feet. "Yeah, sorry I couldn't visit during the break. I was training under an Elder at the Tower of Magic. They had me working on advanced spell amplification techniques—really cool stuff, though exhausting."

"Spell amplification, huh? Sounds like it suits you," I said, and she beamed.

"I'll show you some of it later! But enough about me—how was your break?"

"Productive," I replied vaguely. There was no point mentioning the skull or necromantic studies; those were conversations best left for more private settings.

We caught up for a while, discussing everything from upcoming class evaluations to the latest gossip about Class 1-A. Rose, as always, was a whirlwind of positivity, and I found myself oddly grateful for her company. She had a way of making even the most stressful topics seem manageable.

Finally, it was time to enter the classroom. The familiar sight of Class 1-A greeted me as I stepped through the door: rows of desks arranged in perfect symmetry, the faint hum of mana-powered lights overhead, and a palpable tension in the air as students filed in.

Lucifer was already seated, his emerald-green eyes scanning a thick book on advanced battle tactics. Ren sat in his usual corner, stoic as ever, while Jin was quietly sharpening a blade with practiced precision. Rachel waved at me with a warm smile, and Cecilia smirked from her seat, her crimson eyes glinting with mischief. Seraphina, as usual, sat with an air of quiet dignity, her silver hair catching the light.

As I took my seat, I couldn't help but feel the weight of the coming semester. Between reconstructing the Arch Lich, preparing for the Sovereign's Tournament, and navigating the increasingly complex dynamics of my classmates, one thing was certain—this year was going to be anything but ordinary.

Professor Nero strode into the classroom with the kind of authority that demanded immediate silence. His imposing figure, clad in his signature black and crimson robes, was accentuated by the quiet hum of mana that always seemed to surround him. He carried himself with the confidence of a man who had seen and done far more than the rest of us could imagine. Every time Nero entered the room, it felt like the air grew heavier, as though his sheer presence added gravity to the space.

"Good morning, Class 1-A," he said, his voice calm but laced with an undercurrent of steel. "I trust you all enjoyed your winter break."

A murmur of acknowledgment rippled through the room, though no one dared to speak too loudly. Nero's gaze swept over us, his sharp, silver eyes pausing on each student for a brief moment, as though he were assessing our worth with a single glance.

"We begin the second semester with the release of your updated rankings," he announced, his voice slicing through the air like a blade. "These rankings are based on your performance during the first semester evaluations, your practical abilities, and the insights provided by your instructors."

The room tensed. Even Lucifer looked up from his book, his emerald eyes gleaming with interest. Rankings in Class 1-A weren't just numbers; they were statements of power, potential, and prestige. And in a class filled with prodigies and royalty, the rankings held significant weight.

Nero produced a sleek, holographic tablet and tapped on it. A large display materialized at the front of the room, projecting the rankings for all to see.

1. Lucifer Windward

2. Arthur Nightingale

3. Ren Kagu

4. Rachel Creighton

5. Cecilia Slatemark

6. Jin Ashbluff

7. Seraphina Zenith

8. Ian Viserion

I stared at my name in second place, a mix of emotions swirling within me. Relief, pride, and a faint tinge of frustration. I had expected this. Lucifer, as the undeniable prodigy of our generation, was still the pinnacle of talent in this class. But to be second meant I was closer to him than anyone else.

"Lucifer retains his position as Rank 1," Nero said, his tone neutral but carrying a weight that underscored the significance of the rank. "His performance remains unparalleled, his strength unrivaled."

Lucifer leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk playing on his lips. He didn't need to gloat; his confidence spoke for itself.

"Arthur Nightingale, Rank 2," Nero continued, his gaze settling on me. "Your strategic acumen and rapid improvement have earned you this spot. But remember, the gap between first and second is still vast. Do not grow complacent."

I nodded, meeting his gaze. "I understand, Professor."

Ren, in third place, remained expressionless, though his violet eyes flickered with what I could only assume was quiet determination. He was a fierce competitor, and I knew he wouldn't take being ranked below me lightly.

"Rachel Creighton, Rank 4," Nero said. "Your consistent performance and adaptability are commendable."

Rachel smiled softly, though I caught a flicker of disappointment in her golden eyes. She had hoped to climb higher.

"Cecilia Slatemark, Rank 5," Nero continued, his tone sharp. "Your abilities remain impressive, but your unpredictability is both your greatest strength and your greatest weakness. Focus."

Cecilia's crimson eyes gleamed with amusement. "Noted, Professor."

"Jin Ashbluff, Rank 6," Nero said, his gaze moving to the stoic swordsman. "Your mastery of the blade is exceptional, but you lack versatility. Broaden your skill set."

Jin gave a curt nod, his face as impassive as ever.

"Seraphina Zenith, Rank 7," Nero said, his voice softening slightly. "Your potential remains untapped. I expect more from you in the coming months."

Seraphina's silver eyes flickered, but she said nothing, her expression unreadable.

"And finally, Ian Viserion, Rank 8," Nero concluded. "Your performance has been steady, but in a class of prodigies, steadiness is not enough. Step up, or be left behind."

Ian, ever the optimist, grinned and saluted Nero. "I'll do my best, Professor."

With the rankings announced, Nero turned off the holographic display and clasped his hands behind his back. "These rankings are not fixed. They can and will change based on your performance in the upcoming evaluations and tournaments. Remember, Mythos Academy rewards excellence but tolerates no stagnation. You are the elite, and I expect nothing less than your very best."