The Extra is a Genius!?
Chapter 72: Lines Shifted [300PS - bounus]

Chapter 72: Chapter 72: Lines Shifted [300PS Chapter bounus]

The morning air was crisp, and the main courtyard buzzed with energy.

Students gathered in clusters around the wide arc of the announcement pillar—an obsidian column etched with thin golden veins, humming softly with enchantment. At the center, the academy’s crest spun slowly above a shimmering scroll of mana-bound script.

The official list of the twenty students selected for the S-Class Dormitories.

Elyra approached with the same controlled calm she wore like armor.

She already knew most of the names. Had seen the preliminary list a week ago. There were no surprises expected here.

This was a formality for her.

Reinforcement.

Still, she read every name—because habits like hers didn’t break easily, she needs to have everything verified and it needs to be perfect.

First, Selene von Iskandar.

Second, Clara de Nivaria.

Third, Laziel Varn.

Fourth, Marcus

’All of this name’s are normal to be here, specially if they count potencial and how they helped in the last incident.’

The list continued.

Seraphina of Valor.

Dior of Valor.

’The two heir siblings.’

She kept going, eyes sharp, not even blinking.

Garron Bale.

Lady Myriel von Astralis.

Elyra von Estermont.

Her name.

She kept reading.

And then—

She stopped.

One line above the final name.

"Jareth Velroin."

Her brow furrowed, almost imperceptibly.

That name hadn’t been there before.

And one name was missing.

A very specific one.

She looked back up the list again, quickly, but with complete precision.

He wasn’t there.

Noel Thorne.

Gone.

’That’s not right, what just happened, there’s is going something wrong with this?’

She stepped back slightly.

The students around her were murmuring—most excited, some indifferent. No one else had noticed the change.

But she had.

And her mind was already moving.

Fast, too fast maybe.

Because she knew the list beforehand, and there had been a change at the last moment.

Elyra stepped back from the announcement pillar, hands folded behind her back.

The noise around her blurred into background static—students congratulating one another, friends pulling friends into impromptu celebrations, and the usual nobles commenting on who shouldn’t have made it.

None of that mattered for her now.

She turned on her heel and walked calmly away from the crowd.

’Noel’s name was on the preliminary list. I checked it myself, even showed and said it to him.’

’Jareth Velroin was never there, and never had been, something is wrong here.’

She passed the western fountain and took the side path toward the academic wing, ignoring a greeting from one of the lower-ranked council aides.

Her pace didn’t change.

But her mind was racing.

’Did something happen? Did he get himself removed? Or was this a move from someone else? Did he plan this? He doesn’t like sharing his plans, so it’s a possibility.’

She checked the library first.

Noel wasn’t there.

She checked the sparring yard—not today, it was too late but she had to be sure.

Not the dormitory lounge either.

’Where do you go when you don’t want to be found, but don’t want to be hiding?’

Only one place came to mind.

’The place I told you.’

The old council room.

Their unofficial meeting point.

The old council room was exactly as they had left it.

Dim light filtered through narrow stained-glass windows, casting muted reds and silvers across the stone walls. Dust motes floated in the air, undisturbed by traffic—because no one came here anymore.

Except them.

And this time, he was already there.

Noel stood by the window, back to the door, one hand resting against the sill, the other tucked in his coat pocket.

Elyra didn’t announce herself, she didn’t had to.

She stepped in, letting the door close behind her with a soft click.

He didn’t turn.

Didn’t need to, he knew the only possibilty of who could it be.

"You’re early," he said.

Elyra crossed the room with even steps.

"You’re not on the S Class list."

That got him to turn.

His eyes met hers, unreadable but not hostile.

She spoke again, softer this time.

"Are you alright?"

Noel looked at her for a moment, then nodded once.

"Physically? Yeah."

He turned back to the window.

"Mentally? I’m a bit irritated. But that’s normal."

Elyra leaned against the old desk near him, arms crossed.

"What happened?"

He told her everything.

The ambush.

The retaliation.

The visit to the infirmary.

The conversation with Nicolas.

The punishment.

When he finished, silence settled between them for several seconds.

Elyra’s expression didn’t change. But her voice came colder than usual:

"They attacked you. And you were the one punished, you did nothing wrong."

Noel didn’t answer.

Because she already knew the answer.

Elyra didn’t sit like she was tired.

She sat like she was planning something.

Crossed one leg over the other, rested her hands on her knee, and studied Noel in silence.

Then said:

"We lost a vote."

Noel gave a short, dry huff.

"Yeah. Thanks for the reminder."

"But nothing we can’t recover." Her tone didn’t shift.

"It’s just a piece. I always get what I want—one way or another."

Noel arched an eyebrow.

"Reassuring."

Elyra met his gaze.

"You’re not out of the game. Just moved to another part of the board."

"Poetic."

Because she wasn’t wrong.

After a moment, she continued:

"The second and final debate is coming. Soon, It will be before the elections."

Noel leaned against the windowsill again.

"I assume you’re not suggesting we just clap politely this time."

Elyra’s smile was slight, but sharp.

"I’ve known Dior since we were children."

Pause.

"The public version of him is clean. Noble and measured, like the image we are seeing in the academy."

She leaned in, voice lower now.

"But the real Dior?" She made a pause and took a serious look. "His pride is wrapped in silk. Insecure beneath the title. Dangerous because he hates being second to anyone—especially to her sister."

Noel nodded once.

"So we show that side to the academy."

Elyra smiled without mirth.

"We don’t have to lie. Just let him talk long enough without the mask."

"What’s the plan?"

"We bait him. Subtly. In the next debate that is."

She tapped a finger lightly against the desk.

"But to pull it off, we’ll need someone who can hit his pride in just the right place—publicly, but without stepping out of line."

She looked at Noel.

Long.

Intentionally.

He rolled his eyes.

"Of course."

Noel didn’t say anything for a moment.

Just crossed his arms and looked at Elyra like someone waiting for the second half of a joke.

"You want me to poke the royal heir in front of half the academy."

Elyra’s expression didn’t shift.

"Not poke. Strategically agitate."

He blinked.

"That’s worse."

She leaned forward slightly, fingers steepled under her chin.

"Dior’s weakness isn’t in losing arguments. It’s in being questioned, challenged especially in public. He does like being questioned, he doesn’t like when things aren’t going his way."

"If we ask him something that hits just close enough to expose the crack—he’ll try to maintain control."

A pause.

"But he’s never had to do it in front of someone who isn’t afraid of him."

Noel gave a half-smile.

"Lucky for you, I’m not afraid of anyone. Just annoyed by most."

She smiled faintly at that.

Then pulled a folded sheet from her coat—names of students selected to submit questions for the debate.

She pointed to one.

"Selene."

"She’s respected. Cold and she’s considered the biggest genius in our generation, she’s almost at Adept despite she’s still in the first year like us. Has no interest in either candidate... publicly."

Noel nodded.

"If we can convince her to ask the right question—"

"We don’t need a question," Elyra interrupted, voice calm.

"We need a statement disguised as a question. One that brushes up against Dior’s ego and lets it bleed."

She handed him a small parchment with a rough draft written on it.

He scanned it.

It was sharp.

Neutral on the surface, but with just enough bite to make someone like Dior feel cornered.

Noel smirked.

"You really never miss, do you?"

"I make sure I don’t."

Elyra leaned back again, folding the list and placing it neatly beside her.

Noel stared at the parchment in his hand for another second before slipping it into his coat pocket.

He didn’t say yes.

But he didn’t have to.

They both understood what that meant.

Elyra stood, brushing imaginary dust off her coat.

"We’ll speak with Selene soon. She’ll agree—if it makes sense to her."

"I’ll handle it."

Elyra gave him a look.

"No improvisations this time. You need to be careful, we need to control the situation."

Noel glanced at her, then toward the door.

"I prefer control too."

"Especially when we’re this close to shaking the board."

She smirked, but didn’t argue.

"Good. I’d hate to see you ruin your reputation for competence."

Noel stopped at the threshold.

’If we are going to expose the bastard, it is better to be perfect. You will see soon, I’m going to change this world outcome little by little.’