The Extra's Rise -
Chapter 652 - 652: A Father's Lesson (1)
Alastor's smile remained warm and paternal as he gazed at Arthur, the young man he'd come to regard as a son. But then, as if a switch had been flipped somewhere deep in his mind, something shifted in his expression. The warmth didn't disappear entirely, but it took on a different quality—like sunlight glinting off the edge of a blade.
"Now then," Alastor said, his voice maintaining that same casual, conversational tone, "shall we talk about why my lovely daughter was searching for people to make cages?"
The temperature in the room seemed to plummet. Alastor's lips curved into what could generously be called a smile, but his deep blue eyes were far, far from smiling. They held the kind of cold, calculating intensity that had made him one of the most feared rulers in the world—the look that reminded anyone who saw it exactly why the Creighton family had never fallen to outside threats during his reign.
Arthur shuddered involuntarily at the sight, a single thought flashing through his mind: 'Like father, like daughter.'
"Alastor," Arthur began carefully, his voice slightly higher than usual, "I can explain—"
"Oh, I'm certain you can," Alastor interrupted, still using that terrifyingly pleasant tone. "Because you see, Arthur, when reports reached me that my pure, lovely daughter—the future Saintess of the world, mind you—was making inquiries about custom cage construction, I was naturally... concerned."
He stood slowly, each movement deliberate and controlled, like a predator rising to its full height. Arthur found himself taking an unconscious step backward.
"At first," Alastor continued, beginning to pace with the fluid grace of someone who had spent decades moving through political minefields, "I thought perhaps it was for her phoenix. Aurelis can be quite spirited, after all, and Rachel has always been thorough in her preparations."
Arthur's mouth went dry as dust.
"But then," Alastor's voice dropped to a dangerous rumble, "I learned about the specifications she was requesting. Human-sized, Arthur. Specifically designed for a young man of your exact measurements. With reinforced restraints and anti-magic wards."
Alastor wasn't faking his anger—this was genuine paternal fury mixed with the cold calculation of a king who had just learned that his precious daughter was developing... problematic tendencies. The realization that Rachel—his pure, lovely daughter who was destined to become the future Saintess—had been researching methods of imprisonment was genuinely horrifying to him.
Especially because it wasn't for her phoenix. A Divine Beast like Aurelis didn't need to be caged, and more importantly, shouldn't be caged. No, these specifications had been for Arthur.
And Rachel definitely had those tendencies. All because of Arthur Nightingale.
Of course, Alastor wasn't stupid enough to actually kill the young man. His daughter would never forgive him if he did that, and besides, Arthur was far too important to the world's future to eliminate over personal grievances. The boy had already proven instrumental in preventing one apocalyptic scenario, and given the way fate seemed to swirl around him, he'd likely be crucial in preventing several more.
But teaching him a lesson? Well, that couldn't hurt. In fact, it was probably overdue.
"Bond with the artifact," Alastor said, his voice dropping to a low, commanding tone that brooked no argument. "Then we should train together. I want to see exactly how far you've come."
Arthur looked between Alastor's dangerous expression and the magnificent exosuit lying in its case, clearly recognizing that this had just shifted from a gift-giving ceremony to something far more ominous.
"Right now?" Arthur asked, though he was already moving toward the case.
"Right now," Alastor confirmed, his smile taking on a distinctly predatory quality. "After all, what good is Ancient-grade armor if you don't know how to use it properly?"
Arthur approached the exosuit with a mixture of reverence and growing trepidation. Even setting aside Alastor's current mood, bonding with an Ancient-grade artifact was serious business. These weren't simple magical items that anyone could pick up and use—they required a deep connection between the artifact and its wielder, a melding of magical signatures that could take hours or even days to achieve properly.
He placed his hands on the armor's surface, feeling the cool smoothness of the mythril alloy beneath his palms. The moment his skin made contact, something extraordinary happened.
The armor responded instantly.
Magical circuits that had been dormant suddenly blazed to life, running through the material like veins of liquid starlight. The exosuit's surface rippled and flowed, reshaping itself to perfectly match Arthur's proportions. The neural interface activated with a gentle hum, and Arthur felt the artifact's consciousness brush against his own—not invasive, but welcoming, like greeting an old friend.
Within moments, the bonding process was complete. The armor had accepted him as readily as if it had been waiting for him specifically, which, Arthur realized with a start, it probably had been.
Alastor watched this display with a mixture of satisfaction and resignation. He'd expected this, of course. Arthur's talent was extraordinary. Still, seeing an Ancient-grade artifact accept someone so readily was always impressive, even when you were expecting it.
"Excellent," Alastor said, though his tone suggested this was anything but excellent for Arthur's immediate future. "The armor recognizes you as its rightful wielder. Now, shall we see how well you can use it?"
Arthur looked down at himself, marveling at how natural the exosuit felt. It was like wearing a second skin—he could barely tell he had it on, yet he could sense the incredible power thrumming just beneath the surface.
"I suppose I don't have much choice in the matter," Arthur said, recognizing the futility of trying to talk his way out of whatever Alastor had planned.
"No," Alastor agreed cheerfully, "you really don't. Come along then."
They made their way through the estate toward the training grounds, Alastor maintaining that same unsettling combination of paternal warmth and barely contained menace. Arthur found himself desperately trying to think of ways to explain Rachel's behavior that might mollify an angry father, but kept coming up short.
'How exactly do you tell a king that his daughter has yandere tendencies without making the situation worse?'
The training grounds came into view—a large, open area surrounded by protective barriers and equipped with various practice dummies, target ranges, and sparring circles. It was designed to handle serious magical combat, which Arthur was beginning to suspect he was going to need.
"You know," Alastor said conversationally as they entered the training area, "I've been curious about your development ever since the Lucifer incident. Reports of your capabilities have been... impressive."
He began removing his outer jacket with careful, deliberate movements. "But reports can be misleading. Sometimes a father simply needs to see things for himself."
Arthur watched with growing alarm as Alastor's magical aura began to manifest around him—not the overwhelming presence of someone trying to intimidate, but the controlled, focused energy of a master preparing for serious combat.
"Alastor," Arthur tried one more time, "about Rachel and the cages—"
"Oh, we'll discuss that afterwards," Alastor said with a smile that was all teeth. "Assuming you're still conscious, of course."
The King of the Northern Continent held his hands behind his back, his silver hair catching the afternoon light as his deep blue eyes fixed on Arthur with the intensity of a hunting falcon.
"Now then, my boy," he said, his voice carrying the authority of someone who had conquered nations and faced down legendary monsters, "show me what you've learned."
Arthur looked at the man who had been a mentor and father figure, now preparing to beat several kinds of sense into him, and sighed deeply.
'This is what I get for dating a yandere princess.'
He activated the exosuit's combat systems and prepared himself for what was undoubtedly going to be a very educational afternoon.
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