The Extra is a Genius!?
Chapter 91: Aftermath II

Chapter 91: Chapter 91: Aftermath II

’I better get a damn dragon out of this.’

The egg sat in Noel’s lap like an ordinary object. No glowing symbols. No ancient runes. No mystical hum. Just a smooth shell, deep blue in color, threaded with lighter veins that seemed to pulse faintly under the light. Cold to the touch. Heavier than it looked.

It didn’t feel like a blessing.

Noel turned it slowly with his good hand, watching the surface shimmer slightly as it caught the light from the nearby window. His other arm was still tightly bandaged and aching with every movement. Breathing wasn’t exactly comfortable either—his ribs complained with every inhale. But he was alive.

Barely.

His thoughts were interrupted by the soft creak of a door opening.

"Looks like you’re awake."

Noel turned his head slightly. The director, Nicolas Von Aldros, stepped into the room, tall and imposing even in a simple black coat. Elena followed just behind him, her expression a mixture of relief and worry.

"You look better than I expected," Nicolas said. "How are you feeling?"

"I’ve been better," Noel muttered.

Nicolas folded his arms. "You know reckless behavior usually has consequences, right? I told you before—you can come to me when something like this happens."

Noel gave a small, tired shrug. "I would’ve liked to. But I was already under Lereus’s control by then. I think... he mixed his blood into the coffee I drank. That’s how he got inside."

"I see..." Nicolas’ tone grew heavier. Then he glanced at Elena. "Miss Lestaria, would you mind giving us a moment?"

Elena hesitated. "Of course. I’ll wait outside. Let me know if you need anything, Noel."

Noel lifted his uninjured hand weakly in farewell as she left the room.

Once the door closed, Nicolas moved toward the window, standing there with his back half-turned to Noel.

"Honestly," he said, "I don’t know how you keep getting yourself into these things. First the banquet incident... now this. A demon hiding under our noses for over a decade, in Valor I mean."

He glanced over his shoulder.

"The rumors I heard about you when I arrived—some came from your brothers, by the way—don’t seem to match the boy I see. I’m starting to think you’ve either got a curse on you... or you’re drawn to trouble like a moth to flame."

Noel let out a dry breath. "Call it intuition."

Nicolas chuckled, then his voice turned serious again. "I didn’t come here just to scold you. First... thank you. Because of you, we were able to save every student. The civilians... that’s another matter. We didn’t find any trace of them."

A pause. Then:

"Noel, I’ll be having an audience with the king."

Noel blinked. "The father of Dior and Seraphina?"

Nicolas nodded. "King Alveron IV. This situation has... far wider implications than just one rogue demon. You see, a truce still stands between the human continent and the demon realm of Velmora. After the war fifty years ago, they’ve been paying reparations in blood and gold."

"There was a war?" Noel asked, eyebrows raised.

"You probably haven’t reached that part of your history class," Nicolas said, eyes glinting. "But yes. And it was brutal."

A flicker of bitterness crossed his face.

"That’s where my hatred for demons comes from, if you hadn’t guessed."

Noel offered a half-nod. "It shows."

They both went quiet for a moment.

Nicolas stepped closer to the bed. "Let’s get to the point. I know you, Noel. You’re not the type to sit still after something like this. So I won’t ask you to stop digging—but I will ask you to share what you find."

Noel hesitated. Then nodded. "Fair enough. I did find something... Lereus wasn’t acting alone. He mentioned others. A group, working in the shadows. I don’t know how many they are—or what they want—but they’re dangerous."

Nicolas absorbed that silently, then gave a slow nod.

"Good. I’ll relay that to His Majesty. For now... rest. And study. Exams are coming."

Noel gave a long, tired sigh. "Is there any chance I could skip those? I did just save the academy."

A ghost of a smile tugged at the director’s lips. "No."

And just like that, he vanished on the spot—leaving behind a faint ripple of mana in the air.

Noel stared at the space where he’d been.

’Of course. Typical.’

Then he turned his eyes back to the egg.

The door creaked open a moment later.

Elena stepped in carefully, closing it behind her.

"He was quiet for a while," she said, her voice low. "Did the director leave already?"

Noel gave a faint nod, raising his good hand. "He vanished. Literally. Just poof."

Elena blinked. "What?"

"I’m serious. One moment he was here, the next—gone."

She took a few steps closer, then paused. Her eyes drifted toward the edge of the bed.

"Wait... why do you have a blue egg next to you?"

Noel looked down at it, then back up. "I woke up and it was just there. Right beside me."

Elena narrowed her eyes. "Right... and you don’t find that the slightest bit concerning?"

"I’m trying not to," Noel muttered.

She gave him a long look, then sighed and pulled a chair close. "Alright."

Noel leaned his head back against the pillow. ’I swear, if this egg hatches into something I have to feed, clean, or train...’

The egg sat silently beside him. Its shell shimmered faintly with a cyan hue.

Elena didn’t say anything for a moment. She just sat there, her eyes lingering on the egg, then shifting back to Noel.

Her voice was soft. "Noel... are you going to keep ending up in these kinds of situations?"

He glanced at her sideways. "Probably. I won’t lie to you."

She hesitated, then asked quietly, "Why do you do everything alone?"

Noel exhaled through his nose, then turned his head to stare at the ceiling again.

"I don’t know," he muttered. "It’s just... always been like that."

’In my last life and this one.’

"I guess I’m just used to it."

Elena frowned. "You know... there are people who’d stand by you. Who want to help you. Like Elyra. Or me."

Noel blinked. He didn’t look at her, but the silence said enough.

"...I see," he finally said. "Thanks. I mean it."

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, faint but warm. "You’ve been more talkative lately. And the past few days too. Did something happen?"

Noel’s eyes drifted to the side as his mind replayed a certain moment—

The rooftop. The cold night air. Elyra’s voice whispering his name before kissing him.

’Yeah... something happened.’

He shook his head lightly. "Sort of."

A swirl of blue light formed a circular sigil on the marble floor.

When it faded, Director Nicolas Von Aldros stood in a wide throne hall of white stone and obsidian veins. Vast stained-glass windows cast multicolored beams across the floor. At the far end, seated on a throne of dark steel wrapped in red silk, was King Alveron IV of Valor.

He was a man carved from power.

Broad-shouldered and tall even while seated, his frame radiated strength more than regality.

Long blond hair was tied behind his head with a crimson ribbon, not a single strand out of place.

His eyes—deep red, glowing faintly—met Nicolas with a calm that never looked away, never blinked for long.

"Alveron," Nicolas said, voice sharp. "This can’t happen again."

The king’s gaze didn’t shift. "I take it the demon at your academy has been dealt with?"

Nicolas stepped forward, his tone gaining heat.

"A demon infiltrated us. He spent over a decade studying at Ivory Spiral, gaining knowledge and building credentials—just so he could later enter the Imperial Academy of Valor. And he succeeded. Students were kidnapped. Tortured. Civilians are dead. Most of the students were sixteen."

He pointed sharply. "Children will carry trauma for the rest of their lives. And you’re asking if it’s been dealt with?"

Alveron’s tone remained composed. "Nicolas, there are more demons among us than you realize. Most live quietly. Peacefully. Not all of them are enemies."

"That’s not the point!" Nicolas snapped. "This wasn’t a peaceful citizen—this was an attack. An act of war. There are dead, Alveron."

"I understand your anger," the king replied, his voice still calm. "I will speak with the King of Velmora. I promise you that."

Nicolas stared at him, unmoving.

"...No. Listen to me, Alveron. You’re my friend. Like a brother to me. But you’re being too soft. I won’t need to remind you what happened to your father in the war, do I?."

A long silence.

Then, without another word, Nicolas vanished in a ripple of light.

King Alveron remained on his throne, alone.

He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees.

"...Demons, huh."

His voice dropped, bitter and cold.

"I may not show it like you do, Nicolas. But I loathe them even more than you."

A beat.

"I’m a king. I have an image to maintain."