The Extra Who Shouldn't Exist
Chapter 79 : Arrogance and brilliance

Chapter 79: Chapter 79 : Arrogance and brilliance

The sky was clear, the sun high—perfect for a fight.

The time for the fifth duel came.

The air shimmered with tension as Alistar’s voice echoed across the training grounds.

"First-year student Elaria Moonshade Lareth’Thalas versus second-year Cedric Ashford."

A hush fell.

From the elven crowd, proud cheers rang out for Elaria.

Cedric received no applause—only disapproving whispers and outright scoffs.

Because of his face, which the elves deemed even beneath that of the humans.

"Beastkin? How crude."

"Letting that mongrel fight Lady Elaria?"

Cedric, standing tall and relaxed at the opposite end of the platform, simply smirked. His black hair ruffled in the breeze, yellow eyes gleaming.

The greatsword on his back glinted in the light.

"Begin!"

With a flick of her fingers, Elaria nocked an arrow infused with nature mana.

"Return to the earth from whence you came," she intoned, loosing the arrow.

It spiraled forward, growing thorns mid-air.

Cedric snorted.

"You gonna quote tree poetry all day, or actually fight me, junior?"

He casually batted the arrow aside with a burst of wind from his palm.

"Typical beastkin. No elegance, no honor—just brute force," Elaria snapped, already drawing her next shot.

"I don’t know whether to pity you or leash you."

Cedric bared his teeth in a grin.

"I’m already tamed, sweetheart. Just not by you."

Thwip! Thwip!

Two more arrows flew. One exploded into vines, the other carried a razor-thin edge of water mana.

Cedric dodged the first and let the second slice across his arm.

He looked down at the cut, unimpressed.

"You done tickling me?"

They clashed.

Elaria charged, drawing her rapier, the blade wreathed in flowing water and green light.

"Your kind has no place here, mutt!"

"My kind? You mean winners?

And one of them right now is gonna beat you to a pulp."

He stepped into her strike—earth mana flaring from under his feet, strengthening his stance.

Their blades met.

The clash sent a shockwave through the arena.

"You rely on brute strength—nothing more!" she hissed, slashing low.

Cedric sidestepped, retaliating with a knee to her stomach.

His knee connected, slamming into her midsection and knocking the wind out of her lungs.

"And you rely on smugness and leaf tricks," he shot back. "Guess we all have our thing."

Meanwhile...

Alex cupped his hands and yelled:

"Yes! Hit her again, right on that loud mouth of hers! Break her smug face, mr.fluffy eared senior!"

The elven crowd turned slowly, their stares like sharpened daggers.

Alex, realizing he was just slightly outnumbered—by 20 or 40—cleared his throat, pointed casually to the boy next to him and said:

"He said it."

Ethan, standing beside him still recovering, didn’t even blink—just turned his head with the weight of a hundred generations of noble disappointment.

"I hope big sis Alicia at least breaks that loud mouth of yours," he muttered.

Alex shuddred at the thought.

The crowd’s attention quickly returned to the duel.

---

Elaria was breathing harder now, her elegant movements starting to falter.

"You think just because you’re one rank stronger, that means you’re better?" she spat.

Cedric’s voice was calm—almost amused.

"No. I think I’m better because I’m beating the crap out of you."

He slammed his palm on the ground—an eruption of earth magic exploded beneath her feet, throwing her off-balance.

Thud!

She hit the ground, rolled, and barely blocked his follow-up slash.

"I won’t lose... to a mongrel! Not here!" she growled, vines and water lashing out in a final desperate strike.

But Cedric swung his greatsword in a full arc—the air split, tearing through her elemental attack.

CRACK!

The force knocked her off her feet, sending her skidding across the platform.

On her knees, coughing blood, she gripped the ground.

Her mana flickered like a dying ember.

Still—she raised her head, pride burning in her eyes.

"I... am a high elf, far superior to the likes of you. I will not yield..."

Cedric walked over, resting his massive blade against his shoulder.

"Then stay down with dignity."

She glared up at him, teeth clenched.

"...Bastard."

With one final attack Cedric knocked her out.

Then he chuckled.

"You fought well—for a spoiled elven princess who talks too much."

With that, Cedric walked away. The duel ended.

The elves hurriedly ran to support their princess.

Alistar watched the duel, arms folded behind his back. Alicia von Crestvale stood beside him, a half-smile playing on her lips.

"She’s talented," Alicia said, nodding toward the arena. "Quick, focused... good elemental control and weapon mastery."

Alistar gave a small nod.

"If she learns to temper her pride, she’ll go far."

Alicia smirked.

"Well, she is an elf."

Alistar exhaled faintly.

"Unfortunately, that explains a lot."

They both turned toward the platform. It was time for the next duel.

---

Maria Lunehart vs. Phil Rhys

Class 1-A (First Year) vs. Class 2-A (Second Year)

Advance (Low)-Rank vs. Expert (Mid)-Rank

The arena shimmered under the radiance of holy light.

Maria Lunehart stepped forward, her hair flowing behind her like moonlight woven into silk.

In her hands, a slender staff gleamed, etched with the sigil of the Sacred Flame. As she entered the stage, she paused and bowed respectfully toward her opponent.

"Senior Phil," she said warmly, "it’s an honor to duel with you."

Phil, tall and sharp-eyed vampire, nodded with a rare flicker of amusement.

"Such manners. I like that," he said, brushing his dark coat back with one hand. His crimson eyes gleamed faintly—cool, calculating, and unreadable.

"But don’t think courtesy will make me go easy on you."

Maria smiled gently.

"It won’t. But I’ll give you everything I have."

Alistar signaled the start.

The arena burst into light.

"Sanctus Ignis!"

Maria’s holy flame surged outward in a spiraling wave, golden fire laced with light-elemental mana.

It roared across the platform, radiant and pure, illuminating every shadow.

"Lumen Purifica."

Chains of radiant fire lashed toward Phil, each glowing with runes meant to cleanse and bind.

But Phil Rhys raised a hand, and runes of his own began etching themselves into the air—sleek, geometric, and blood-red.

"Runic Sequence: Absorption Grid."

The symbols spun, interlocking midair. As Maria’s chains struck them, the radiant light dimmed and fizzled out, as if devoured by the air itself.

Maria’s eyes narrowed. She wasn’t surprised.

Phil was a specialist in rune arts. Every movement was precise. Every spell, a calculated rebuttal.

Phil tapped his fingers in the air again.

"Runic Sequence: Temporal Buffer."

A shimmering wall of vibrating mana formed between them—transparent yet pulsing with restrained force.

Maria didn’t hesitate.

"Sacred Lance!"

A spear of holy fire formed and shot forward with searing speed, tearing through the mist with divine intent.

Phil’s buffer warped the space around the lance, slowing it. Then his next rune activated—

"Blood Pulse: Rejection."

A crimson wave of energy, sharp and metallic, rippled out from beneath his feet. The holy lance collided—and was shattered in a blink.

The crowd winced. Some shielded their eyes.

Maria stood her ground, surprised.

She whispered another incantation under her breath, and wings of light burst from her back.

She soared upward, magic swirling, her presence radiant like a descending saint.

"Cleansing Storm!"

Dozens of tiny flame-laced orbs of holy light formed around her like stars, rotating and locking onto Phil. She raised her hand, and they descended.

Phil’s lips curled slightly.

"Runic Sequence: Deflection Array."

An array of mirrored runes shimmered around him. The holy orbs struck—sparking explosions of light—but none broke through. His shield held.

Maria’s flight wavered. Her mana was draining quickly—purification magic demanded immense control and spirit.

Phil moved.

In one smooth step, he was directly below her.

"Blood Art: Crimson Lash."

A whip-like strike made of condensed blood mana shot from his palm, wrapping around her ankle mid-air and yanking her downward with brutal force.

BOOM!

Maria crashed onto the arena floor, the impact shaking the ground. Her radiant wings flickered, then shattered into feathers of light.

She coughed, pushing herself up.

But Phil was already moving.

"Runic Sequence: Suppression Cage."

Four glowing sigils appeared around her, forming a glowing cube of layered kinetic runes. The very space around her felt heavy.

Maria raised a trembling hand.

"Eternal Light: Solar Benediction!"

Her body blazed in golden flame. The cage cracked.

A pillar of divine fire erupted upward—her last stand, a blast of purification that forced Phil to slide back half a step, his coat whipping from the blast.

But that was all.

The light dimmed.

Maria collapsed to one knee, breathing hard, mana nearly spent.

Phil stepped forward, calm and impassive.

"You were brilliant," he said. "But brilliance burns out when pressed by order and precision."

He extended one hand, conjuring a sphere of blood mana that pulsed with dark, rhythmic energy.

Maria didn’t flinch. She looked up and smiled, weary but proud.

"I did my best."

Phil let the orb fade.

"You did. And that’s something you should definitely be proud of.

At your time, I didn’t even last 30 seconds against my senior."

A proud smirk came to Maria’s face.

Phil turned away as Alistar announced the result:

Winner: Phil Rhys

The crowd applauded—less for the result, more for the beauty of the battle. Holy flames and arcane runes. Purity and logic. Light and blood.

Maria was helped off the platform by her classmates. Though she had lost, there was no shame in her eyes.

Alistar leaned forward, stroking his chin.

"She’s definitely one of the best talents we have. I can see why she places in the top ten, leaving the other saint candidates in the dust," he murmured.

Alicia Crestvale nodded.

"She’ll shine brighter with more training."

"She will," Alistar replied.

---

Meanwhile...

Alex leaned forward, eyes locked—not on Maria, but on Phil.

More specifically, on the glowing rune symbols Phil traced in the air mid-fight.

"Damn... that was so freaking cool."

The way Phil’s fingers danced, inscribing glowing glyphs that warped the battle—it looked effortless. Precise. Powerful.

Rune arts... seeing them in the game was one thing, but in real life? It hits different.

Phil wasn’t just countering spells—he was rewriting them.

And the best part? With runes, you can even use elements you don’t have an affinity for...

Alex’s eyes narrowed.

It’s not just cool. It’s one of the most broken tools if you know how to use it.

Though learning them was very difficult.

He nodded to himself, jaw set.

"I need to learn that," he muttered. "No—I will."

-------------

A/N:-

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