The Cursed Extra: Bloodline of Sacrifice - Chapter 154

Chapter 154: A Lesson in Patience
The mall was bustling.

It wasn’t just students from the academy—there were nobles, merchants, and commoners, all moving about, their lives intertwining in the grand sprawl of the city.

Caspian leaned against a railing on the upper floor, looking down at the vast expanse of stores and cafes below.

A group of young nobles laughed over wine at an outdoor lounge, and merchant….

He wasn’t particularly interested in any of it.

He was still standing in a mall.

Waiting.

He sighed, rubbing his temple.

Then he saw it.

Fianna stepped out of the dressing room.

And Caspian froze.

The black dress.

The barely-there, sheer silk, scandalous excuse of a dress.

Fianna had a smirk on her lips as she placed a hand on her hip, tilting her head slightly. “So?”

Caspian exhaled, slow and steady. His jaw clenched.

His mind was blank for half a second before his instincts kicked in.

This was a trap.

He had dealt with assassins, schemers, and liars. But none of them—none—had prepared him for this.

Fianna was waiting for a reaction.

A slip.

An expression.

Caspian’s eyes swept over the dress once, clinical and quick, before he looked away. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

Fianna’s smirk widened. “Is that all?”

Caspian ignored her. He turned, walking toward the next store.

Fianna followed, pleased.

She hadn’t won.

But she had made him react.

And that was enough.

.

After Fianna finally stopped playing around, Caspian managed to move on to what he actually came here for—clothes.

He grabbed a few shirts, some plain and some more refined, along with trousers and boots.

As they walked through the mall, the conversation drifted.

“Why don’t you buy more expensive clothes?” Fianna asked, eyeing his choices. “You’re a noble.”

“I don’t see the point,” Caspian replied. “As long as it fits and lasts, it’s enough.”

Fianna gave him a look. “You do know that people judge by appearance, right?”

“I do.”

“So?”

Caspian glanced at her. “If someone underestimates me because of what I wear, that’s their mistake, not mine.”

Fianna paused, then laughed softly.

They continued walking, passing a magical artifact store. Inside, a noble boy was trying to impress a girl by overpaying for an necklace.

Fianna shook her head. “Pathetic.”

“Why?” Caspian asked.

“He’s buying her attention.”

Caspian raised an eyebrow. ‘Isn’t that what she was doing earlier with that dress?’

Is that so caspian said.

Fianna stopped. Then turned to look at him.

Caspian met her gaze, completely unreadable.

Then, he walked ahead, leaving her standing there.

A second later, she followed, a small smirk on her lips.

.

Caspian shut the door behind him and locked it.

He exhaled, rolling his shoulders.

His room still smelled faintly of the cheap paint those two bastards had used to vandalize it.

He had cleaned up most of the mess, but faint stains of obscenities still lingered on the edges of his walls and furniture.

He’d deal with them later.

Right now, there was something else to do.

From his bag, he pulled out a set of small, silver orbs—miniature surveillance artifacts. They weren’t advanced, but they did the job. He set them up in each corner of the room, carefully adjusting their angles.

Once done, he activated them, linking them to his personal device.

Then, he installed a trigger system.

If anyone entered his room without his permission, his phone would vibrate.

Let’s see who tries it next.

With that done, he placed his phone on the nightstand, cracked his neck, and lay down.

Tomorrow was going to be annoying.

—

[Training Grounds – 6:00 AM]

The sun had barely started to rise, casting a dim orange glow across the academy’s vast training fields.

Caspian stood in the middle of the grounds, watching his “teammates.”

They weren’t a team.

They were just a group of individuals who happened to fight together.

And that needed to change.

“Why the hell should I be at support?” Vera’s voice rang out, frustration clear. “I also want to eliminate people! If we don’t make it past group matches, it’ll be you front-liners getting selected, not me.”

Caspian didn’t respond immediately. He just turned to Vera and tilted his head slightly.

“Your weapon?” he asked.

“Archery,” Vera replied. “And air magic.”

Caspian nodded. “And its main use in battle?”

“To provide support,” Vera said.

Wrong answer.

Caspian grabbed Vera’s collar and pulled him close.

“So fucker, support what you’re capable of first. Then do whatever the hell else you want.” His voice was cold, steady. “listen to me , and I’ll make sure you qualify. If you want to be selfish, then prove you’re worth it.”

He shoved Vera back, making him stumble.

Vera clenched his fists but didn’t say anything.

Caspian didn’t care about his pride.

He turned his gaze to Kairos next.

And walked straight towards him.

Kairos stiffened slightly as Caspian closed the distance.

“What the hell is your problem?” Caspian asked. “Are you a little girl with emotional issues?”

Kairos’ eyes darkened. “Shut up.”

Caspian ignored him.

“You’re hesitating. You don’t fight properly. And for what? Because you killed a maid?” Caspian’s voice was cutting, emotionless.

Kairos flinched, his body tensing.

Caspian leaned in slightly. His voice dropped lower.

“Let me make this simple, young fucker.” His tone was quiet. “In the future, if you don’t do anything—if you don’t kill when it’s necessary—it won’t be just one maid dying. It’ll be you. And your people.”

Kairos’ breathing was sharp, uneven.

After a brief pause—

“Guilt doesn’t change the past. It only makes you weaker in the present.” He stepped back. “So either learn to deal with it or die with it. Your choice.”

‘Thanks bloodmoon for telling me this quote at right time’ Caspian thought.

{And now make them look more pathetic} Bloodmoon replied.

‘It’s fine now’ Caspian replied.

Kairos’ hands were trembling slightly.

Vera looked away.

Caspian exhaled.

This team was pathetic.

But if he had to drag them to victory, then so be it.

….

[POV: Vynesaa El’leather]

The arena stretched before them, an expansive field enclosed by towering walls.

Above, a shimmering barrier with magical energy, ensuring no one could escape or interfere.

Vynesaa cracked her knuckles, rolling her shoulders as she took in the battlefield.

Her team of five stood in formation, facing off against another team of equal numbers.

Five vs five.

Her team—

Fianna – Fireborn with phoenix flames.

Seraphina – A mermaid-born with control over water and ice.

Lyria – A storm wielder, her magic unpredictable, like a brewing tempest.

Naomi – A shadow-dancer, silent but lethal.

Herself, Vynesaa – Nature’s force incarnate.

Their opponents were no pushovers.

Lrren – A brute of a man, wielding a colossal warhammer, his sheer strength a threat.

Iris – A wind mage, her agility and ranged attacks making her difficult to pin down.

Reyson – A swordsman with enchanted steel, skilled and calculated.

Tanya – A defensive fighter, her gauntlets enhancing her counterattacks.

Luther – A poison magic user.

The announcer’s voice echoed through the arena.

“Begin!”

The moment the signal was given, the battlefield exploded into action.

Lrren charged like a rampaging beast, his warhammer raised high.

Vynesaa barely twitched her fingers—roots burst from the ground, twisting toward his feet.

But he anticipated it.

With a heavy swing, his hammer shattered the vines mid-air, sending debris flying. His momentum remained unstopped.

“Tch.”

Vynesaa sidestepped just as the hammer crashed down where she stood, the ground splintering under its weight.

A second slower, and she would’ve been crushed.

Meanwhile—

Fianna and Iris clashed above.

Fianna’s phoenix fire shot forward like a roaring dragon, the sheer heat distorting the air.

But Iris was faster.

She twisted mid-air, her wind magic forming a protective current, guiding the flames away.

She retaliated with a sharp gust, aiming to knock Fianna off balance.

Instead of dodging, Fianna grinned.

She embraced the wind, letting it carry her before twisting her body—redirecting her flames mid-flight.

A streak of fire grazed Iris’ shoulder, making her hiss in pain.

A small win.

Seraphina engaged Reyson, water and ice clashing against steel.

Each time his sword came close, she twisted her body like flowing water, evading with minimal movement. Her fingers flicked, and shards of ice formed in the air, sharp as daggers.

Reyson, however, was relentless.

His sword cut through the ice, the sheer force behind his strikes forcing Seraphina to remain on the defensive.

Vynesaa noticed.

She stomped her foot—vines shot forward, wrapping around Reyson’s ankle.

He barely had time to react before Seraphina capitalized on the opening—a frozen whip lashed forward, slamming against his chest and sending him skidding back.

A temporary advantage.

Luther, the poison mage, lurked at the back.

His fingers moved in intricate patterns, shadows forming at his fingertips.

A spell was building.

Naomi saw it.

She moved without a sound, slipping between skirmishes like a ghost.

Shadows coiled around her form, rendering her presence almost invisible.

Then—

A dagger to the throat.

Luther’s eyes widened in shock as Naomi’s blade pressed against his skin.

“Concede,” she whispered.

He froze.

The spell dissipated.

4 vs. 5.

[Luther Eliminated]

With Luther eliminated, the tide began shifting.

But their opponents weren’t backing down.

Lrren still fought with monstrous strength, each swing of his warhammer forcing Vynesaa back.

Reyson and Tanya worked together, overwhelming Seraphina with their combined strikes.

Iris, despite her injury, fought aggressively, using bursts of wind to keep Fianna at bay.

For a moment—

The match seemed even.

But Vynesaa knew better.

This was their rhythm.

A battle wasn’t won by brute strength alone. It was won by control.

She smirked.

Time to end it….