I'm an Extra, so What?
Chapter 76 - 76: The Main Character's Harem?

It wasn't long before another knock came at the door.

Nike let out a deep sigh, rubbing her forehead as exhaustion began to weigh on her again.

"Come in," she called out.

The door creaked open slowly, revealing a figure.

With her hands gently clasped in front of her and a warm smile on her face, the Saintess herself, Elysia, stepped inside.

"Hello," she said softly. "I hope I'm not intruding."

Nike's head lifted slowly, but the moment her eyes recognized who it was, her entire body jolted awake with alarm.

She stumbled over her words as she stood up too fast.

"S-Saintess!? It's… it's an honor for you to visit! May I ask why?"

Elysia approached the bedside, her expression remaining the same.

"I've chosen to visit each injured and sick student personally… to offer them a prayer."

"I see…" Nike managed a small, respectful smile, trying to calm her racing thoughts.

Elysia then reached down and gently took the hand in hers.

She began to whisper something under her breath—soft, ancient words not audible to the human ear.

A subtle light pulsed from her hand, glowing faintly for a brief second before fading.

"The prayer is complete," she said, letting go of the hand and bowing her head slightly.

"Thank you for allowing me."

Nike quickly waved her hands, flustered.

"No, no—by all means. Thank you."

Elysia nodded and turned to leave.

But just as she took her first step away from the bed—

Grab.

"Huh?" she glanced back, a little startled.

Arthur's hand had reached out and grabbed her wrist.

His eyes had snapped open, and he was now breathing heavily, sweat clinging to his brow.

In one frantic motion, he sat upright, tearing off the bandages and medical equipment as his wide, dazed eyes locked onto the first thing he saw—her.

"You're… better than the Second Princess," he muttered, dazed and disoriented, the words tumbling from his mouth without thought.

"???"

Both women stood in stunned confusion, metaphorical question marks practically hovering over their heads.

Nike was the first to snap out of it—and then it hit her.

Her childhood friend… was grabbing the Saintess.

The Saintess, chosen by the Goddess herself. The symbol of holiness revered by millions.

Her eyes widened in horror.

"Arthur, are you crazy!?" Nike shouted, hurrying over and slapping his hand away.

"Do you even realize who you just touched!?"

"What—?" Arthur trailed off…

Elysia flinched slightly at the sudden motion but quickly raised a hand, trying to de-escalate. "Wa—"

But Arthur cut her off.

"You!" he pointed at his childhood friend, his voice raw with anger.

"I defended you earlier! Took a beating for you and ended up like this! And this is how you repay me? By slapping my hand!?"

"…" Nike's breath hitched.

Her hand trembled at her side, and for a moment, it looked like she would shout back.

But then her lips pressed into a tight line.

She bit down on her words, knowing anything she said right now would only make it worse.

Still, her heart ached—deeply.

Not from guilt.

But from pain.

Pain she had felt countless times before.

Once again, her childhood friend was looking at another woman.

Lusting, obsessed—never even seeing her.

'Why is he always like this?' Nike thought, bitterly, for the hundredth time since they'd entered the Academy.

Before things could spiral further, the tension crackling in the air—

Elysia raised both her hands gently, her voice as soft as silk.

"Please," she said. "Both of you. Calm yourselves. The air is thick with negativity."

Her words cut through the rising storm like a breeze—

Both Arthur and Nike turned their eyes to her.

Seeing their attention return to her, Elysia continued, her tone gentle but firm.

"If there's bad blood between you two, then speak honestly. Yelling will not bring healing—only more pain."

Silence.

The room fell still.

Arthur and Nike looked away from each other.

Then, slowly—almost reluctantly—they turned back, eyes meeting.

Both opened their mouths to speak… but no words came.

Elysia gently placed a hand on Nike's shoulder, her touch grounding.

"Why don't you go first?" she said softly, guiding the conversation with delicate care.

Nike trembled.

Her lips quivered.

Tears threatened to spill.

"…Why?" Nike muttered. "Why must you want a harem? Why can't you be satisfied with me?"

Her voice cracked with each word.

"Ever since we were children… I was the only one who stayed by your side."

Nike's fingers curled into fists.

"So tell me… why? Why do you need a harem? Is it because I'm not enough?"

She looked down at herself, her expression lost—searching for something.

For anything to explain what she lacked.

Then her gaze rose again, raw and exposed.

"Tell me!"

"Calm down," Elysia said gently, her hand still on Nike's shoulder.

"You've spoken your truth. That's enough."

Nike exhaled shakily, swallowing down the rest of her storm.

Arthur finally spoke up, his voice low, but firm—with a fire just beneath the surface.

"You don't understand, Nike…" His hands clenched tightly.

"I'm fated to have a harem. I'm the hero this world needs!"

His tone rose—frantic, almost feverish.

"I won't abandon you," he continued, eyes wild.

"You belong to me, after all!"

Niked flinched.

Even Elysia flinched at those words.

Her expression turned somber, a shadow of disappointment flickering in her holy gaze.

'They aren't even married,' she thought, 'and yet he speaks as if she's his possession…'

Before she could intervene—

Arthur kept rambling.

"All these beautiful women… they should belong to me! Every. Single. One! I can give them a future! I can treat them perfectly! I'll be famous, rich, respected… everything! Just—trust me!"

He grasped his childhood friend's hands, cupping them tightly in his.

"Just believe in me! Stay with me—just a little longer—and you'll see! You'll see! I swear it! Just give me a chance, just one chance, and I'll prove it! I just need more time! More time! Something's watching over me! Something greater! Something divine! It's choosing me!"

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