The Extra's Rise-Chapter 97: New Year’s Party V

The air in the Creighton estate buzzed with an electric sort of tension, like the calm before an explosion of fireworks. The chatter, polite laughter, and clinking glasses filled the space like a background symphony to the main event that hadn't quite begun yet. Goosebumps prickled across my skin, a reaction I didn't quite understand, until Luna's voice flared to life in my mind.

'Arthur, something big is happening. Be on guard.'

I didn't need her to tell me twice. The energy in the room shifted, almost imperceptibly, like a gust of wind that made no sound but carried a weight that pressed against your chest. My heart began to race. Surely no one would be reckless enough to attack the Creighton estate, of all places? Even with King Alastor away, there were enough mages here to reduce an invading force to ash within seconds.

But I was wrong. They weren't intruders.

The entire room turned toward the entrance as a ripple of recognition spread among the gathered students. Expressions brightened, softened, or stiffened depending on whose gaze fell on whom. My own breath caught as I saw who had arrived. These weren't just powerful figures—they were legends. The absolute peak of humanity's might. And they had come not as warriors or rulers but simply as parents.

Alastor Creighton, the King of Creighton and a 9-circle mage, led the group. Dressed in a sleek navy-blue suit, he somehow managed to exude both warmth and authority. His presence was commanding but never oppressive, like the glow of a roaring hearth on a cold winter's night.

Beside him stood Arden Windward, the Dark King of the North and Lucifer's father. If Alastor was the fire, Arden was the shadow it cast—sharp, cold, and deliberate. His black suit mirrored his reputation, a blend of understated elegance and lethal precision. His eyes were so piercing that I found myself standing a little straighter, as though he could read the deepest parts of my mind.

Marcus Viserion, the King of the South and Ian's father, was the next to enter. His presence was vibrant, his bright suit reflecting Ian's flamboyance, though the aura he carried was anything but lighthearted. He practically hummed with restrained power, like a storm waiting for permission to break.

Finally, there was Quinn Slatemark, Emperor of the Slatemark Empire and the third 9-circle mage in the world. Despite being considered the weakest of the three, Quinn carried himself with an air of calm precision that made it clear he had nothing to prove. As Emperor of the greatest power on Earth, his influence alone was staggering, but it was his quiet, calculated gaze that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

The room felt smaller with these men in it, their combined presence like a gravitational pull that demanded attention. Even the ever-lively Ian grew silent as their eyes swept over the room.

It was Alastor who finally broke the silence, his voice warm yet imbued with authority. "Happy New Year, everyone."

The response was almost automatic—a chorus of greetings from everyone present, though mine was somewhat delayed as my mind scrambled to process the situation. I was standing in a room with the four most powerful leaders in the world. For some, this was family. For me? This was a dream teetering dangerously close to a nightmare.

Arden's sharp gaze flicked toward Alastor as he spoke. "So, this is the one you've been training, Alastor?" He was walking toward me now, and my stomach did an impressive backflip. I barely had time to react before Alastor placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

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"This is Arthur Nightingale," Alastor said with a small smile, his words deliberate. "Quite special, wouldn't you agree?"

I bowed deeply, trying to keep my nerves from spilling into my voice. "I greet the King of Creighton and the Dark King of the North, Your Majesties."

"None of that," Arden said, his voice lighter than I expected, though his eyes remained sharp. "At ease. There's no need for all that etiquette right now."

Before I could respond, Alastor gave my shoulder a pat, his words cutting through my thoughts like a blade. "Arthur is more special than some of our own children."

My heart skipped several beats, and I could feel the eyes of the other rulers weighing me like I was a particularly rare artifact up for auction. Marcus Viserion's eyes narrowed, his expression shifting to one of quiet curiosity as though he were trying to peer through my very soul. Quinn, however, remained as stoic and unreadable as ever, his icy demeanor unchanged.

"Special, indeed," Marcus said finally, his tone thoughtful as his gaze lingered on me. "Alastor doesn't give out praise lightly."

I managed a respectful nod. "I'm honored by your words, Your Majesty, but I still have a long way to go."

"Humility is good," Quinn finally spoke, his voice as precise and cold as his movements. "But don't let it snuff out your ambition."

"Wise words," Arden agreed, nodding. "Ambition tempered with humility can take you far. I'll be keeping an eye on you, Arthur."

He gave my shoulder a squeeze before turning back to the rest of the room. The other rulers followed suit, joining the party as seamlessly as if they weren't the most intimidating group of individuals I'd ever encountered.

'Humans truly are terrifying,' Luna whispered in my mind, her voice tinged with something between admiration and unease. 'For so many of them to have reached Radiant-rank after Julius paved the way... It's remarkable.'

'How do they compare to Julius?' I asked, unable to resist the question. My curiosity about the legendary founder of the Slatemark Empire had only grown since Luna had become my companion.

'They wouldn't stand a chance,' she said simply. 'Even united, they could not bring him down. Julius was high Radiant-rank. They... are not.'

Her words left a heavy weight in my chest as I tried to imagine a power so vast that even these titans couldn't hope to challenge it. Julius Slatemark's name had become the stuff of myth, but hearing Luna's first-hand account only made his legend seem more impossibly distant.

"Arthur?" Rachel's voice pulled me back to the present, her gentle tone cutting through the storm of my thoughts. She stood beside me, her golden hair glowing softly under the chandelier's light. "Are you okay? You looked a bit lost."

I smiled at her, shaking off the weight of Luna's revelations. "Just thinking about the future," I said.

Rachel nodded, her smile warm and understanding. "Well, it's almost a new year. Anything's possible, right?"

"Right," I agreed, feeling a small spark of determination reignite within me. "Anything's possible."

As the party continued, the tension in the room began to ease, replaced by laughter, chatter, and the occasional debate among the students and their parents. But in the back of my mind, Luna's words lingered. Julius, the Wall, the Radiant-rank—these were all challenges far beyond my reach now.

For now, all I could do was focus on building my foundation. The rest would come in time.