The Extra is a Genius!?
Chapter 87: Extra Lessons

Chapter 87: Chapter 87: Extra Lessons

The sky over Valor was gray, and the wind carried a bite that hinted at snow.

Noel walked through the academy halls as if nothing had changed. No sign of the night before lingered in his eyes, no tension in his shoulders. Just another normal day.

He knocked twice on the door of Lereus’s office.

"Come in," came the familiar, smooth voice.

Noel stepped inside.

As always, the office was immaculately clean. Books in perfect rows. Scrolls aligned by color. Incense burning faintly in the corner.

Lereus stood near the desk, arranging something in a wooden tray. His appearance, as usual, was flawless.

Hair neatly combed. Robes are perfectly pressed. Not a single crest on the fabric. And those eyes—icy blue, calm, precise. Watching everything.

"Ah, Noel. Good timing," Lereus said without turning. "I brought coffee today. Thought you might enjoy it."

Noel kept his expression flat, only giving the faintest nod. "I’d love a cup."

Lereus gestured to a steaming silver pot and poured two cups with practiced elegance.

Noel took his cup without hesitation, but his other hand moved subtly into his cloak. From the inner pocket, he pulled a small green vial—just a few drops left inside.

He uncorked it with his thumb and added a slow, careful splash to the dark liquid.

Lereus tilted his head.

"What’s that?"

"A juice I picked up the other day. Strange combo, but it works surprisingly well with coffee," Noel replied casually, swirling the cup once before taking a sip.

Lereus gave a soft chuckle and sat down across from him. "You students and your strange habits."

Noel took another sip, eyes calm, posture relaxed.

’Smile all you want, bastard. Hehehe.’

The hours slipped by beneath the quiet rhythm of routine.

Noel moved like clockwork—sorting scrolls, aligning inked diagrams, organizing stacks of dry parchment by elemental category. On the surface, it was just another ordinary day. His posture remained casual, his voice collected when he spoke, never revealing the tension brewing beneath.

At one point, Lereus poured himself a fresh cup of coffee and leaned back slightly in his chair, watching Noel for a moment longer than usual.

"Do you like the coffee?" he asked, his voice light, almost pleasant.

Noel turned, cup in hand, and gave a nod. "Yeah. It’s delicious, professor. Where did you buy it?"

"A small vendor near the southern market," Lereus replied, his tone smooth and unhurried. "He roasts everything on-site. No fancy enchantments. Just fire and timing."

"Old-fashioned," Noel said, offering a faint smile. "I like that."

Lereus nodded, sipping slowly.

And then, silence settled in again.

But Noel could feel it—something was wrong.

It started as a subtle warmth in his chest, not from the drink, but from somewhere deeper. His heartbeat grew slow, heavy. Each breath felt slightly off, like the air wasn’t feeding his lungs the way it should.

Then came the pressure. A crawling sensation in his blood. Not sharp—no. It was patient. Spreading.

His hands tightened slightly over a bundle of scrolls.

’Okay... now his blood is inside me. Shit, this is disgusting.’

Lereus’s blood was flowing through his veins now. Noel could feel it.

Not in pain. Not in fire.

In pressure. In weight.

In the wrongness.

Lereus walked past him, calm and composed, adjusting a shelf as if nothing in the world was out of place.

Noel saw his own reflection in the window—his posture steady, face unreadable.

He said nothing.

Neither did Lereus.

’Every second I’m near him, it spreads.’

The last bell rang. Students flooded out of classrooms, laughter and idle chatter filling the corridors of the academy.

Noel had returned to his dorm briefly, just enough to grab his cloak—the same one from the night before. He pulled the hood over his head as he stepped into the courtyard.

Then it started.

At first, he thought it was fatigue. A strange weight in his limbs. But within seconds, it became clear.

His legs moved.

Not at his command.

One step. Then another. Then faster.

Noel’s breath caught. He tried to stop, to resist, to dig his heels in.

Nothing.

His body pushed forward, like a puppet following invisible strings. His hand even adjusted the cloak to better cover his face—not him doing it.

’Okay... this is bad.’

He crossed the outer gate, heart pounding. The guards didn’t stop him—they didn’t even look twice.

Of course not.

He was just a student on his way out. Just another evening walk.

But he wasn’t walking.

He was being taken.

Down the side streets. Past the last row of vendor stalls. Into the edge of the slums.

And there—waiting exactly where he’d been last night—stood Lereus.

Hair perfect. Robes immaculate. Hands folded behind his back. And that ever-present smile etched onto his face like a sculpted mask.

"Ah, my dear assistant," he said, voice dripping with mock delight. "What a pleasant surprise."

Noel said nothing. His body slowed, stopped a few steps away.

Lereus tilted his head slightly, eyes gleaming.

"I think I’ve figured out who our little cockroach was."

He took a single step forward, shadows clinging to his feet like mist.

"Let’s enjoy some after-school activities, shall we?"

The shack looked exactly as it had the night before—rotting wood, crooked boards nailed over the windows, the faint glow of enchanted lanterns bleeding through the cracks.

Lereus didn’t knock. He simply waved his hand, and the door creaked open with a slow, heavy groan.

Noel stepped in, his movements still guided by that invisible pull.

The stench hit immediately—blood, sweat, and rotting wood. It was worse than before. The air was thick, humid with decay and something else beneath it.

And there they were.

Seven students, now.

All of them conscious—but barely.

Hanging from chains along the far wall, their heads slumped forward, eyes vacant or swollen shut. Blood stained their clothes. Mana-sealing cuffs clamped around their wrists. The elven girl—Elena’s friend—was still there, suspended in the exact same spot as last night.

Alive.

Barely.

’So that’s what he meant. One per night.’

Lereus stepped inside behind him, walking casually, hands behind his back like a noble giving a tour of his private gallery.

"You know," he began, voice pleasant as ever, "you’re quite interesting."

He turned, facing Noel directly.

"You were on my list too. Barely. Just a name. Just an extra."

He grinned, teeth white, too sharp.

"But you’re more than that now. Aren’t you?"

He leaned in slightly, as if sharing a secret.

"You’re clever. You hide it well. And you don’t scream like the others."

He chuckled—a low, amused sound.

"I like you more than Laziel. I suppose I’ll hang him up next to the rest soon. Side by side with his little friends. Hahahaha."

Lereus took slow steps across the room, his boots tapping softly against the warped floorboards. He moved past the chained students one by one, eyes gliding over their faces like a butcher inspecting cuts of meat.

He paused in front of the elf girl.

Her body twitched weakly. Dried blood clung to her wrists and neck. She didn’t even raise her head.

Lereus placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face gently.

"Hmm... no, not two nights in a row," he murmured.

He let her drop and moved on.

Then stopped.

In front of a human boy—young, brown-haired, no visible injuries yet. His eyes were wide open, unfocused, lips trembling with silent fear.

"This one," Lereus said, voice light and casual. "Yes. I think today... we’ll go with you."

He reached out and traced the boy’s cheek with a single claw.

The student whimpered, but couldn’t move.

Lereus smiled.

"So much fresher when they know what’s coming."

Noel remained still, his heart pounding beneath the surface.

’Seems like it’s finally kicking in... right on time.’

The grip controlling his body loosened—just slightly, but enough.

Noel exhaled slowly, the sound lost beneath the creaking wood and Lereus’s amused humming.

He slid his hand into his pants pocket, fingers closing around the red vial—warm, thick, and slightly sticky to the touch. The liquid inside moved sluggishly, like syrup infused with something darker.

He pulled it out slowly, keeping it hidden under the edge of his cloak.

Lereus had his back turned, still toying with the human boy’s fear.

Noel popped the cork with his thumb.

The smell hit him like iron and ash.

He didn’t hesitate.

He drank.

The liquid burned down his throat like acid laced with lightning. His lungs tightened. His heart stopped—then slammed back to life with a single deafening thud.

The world tilted.

The air rippled.

Then came the voice.

[Revenant Fang – Trait Activated]

Increases clarity under life-threatening pressure.

Evolves under extreme stress.

Noel’s vision sharpened—edges became clearer, shadows more defined. Time slowed, just slightly.

His muscles snapped back under his control.

’I’ve got two minutes. At most.’

The vial hit his tongue like molten metal.

Noel didn’t flinch.

The burn spread instantly—through his throat, his chest, his limbs—like fire crawling beneath his skin. His vision pulsed, sharpened, narrowed.

Every sound became louder.

Every heartbeat—clearer.

Lereus was still speaking, back turned.

Noel moved.

Revenant Fang slid into his hand with one smooth motion, the blade’s weight like an extension of his will.

He dashed forward, cloak billowing behind him.

No hesitation.

No warning.

Only precision.

Only purpose.

The distance between them vanished.

He raised the blade—angled for the neck, clean, silent, deadly.

One strike.

All or nothing.

The edge of Revenant Fang stopped—

Just centimeters from Lereus’s throat.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.