The Cursed Extra: Bloodline of Sacrifice - Chapter 163

Chapter 163: The Weight You Can’t See
(POV: Fianna)

The arena was quiet this late into the evening.

Fianna stood alone in the center, her palms open, eyes closed.

Her breath came slow.

To create my zone, she thought, I need absolute control over my mana—every flicker, every motion. Every element has to bend to me.

A faint, shimmering ring of red bloomed around her feet—a delicate halo of fire beginning to form.

Good, she noted. Now, amplify the fire aspect.

The flame flickered upward in a spiral, only to dim a second later.

She clicked her tongue. “No… Still too soft.”

Fianna opened her eyes slowly. There was no frustration on her face, only calm scrutiny—as if she was solving a difficult puzzle rather than failing a spell. Her training outfit was soaked with sweat, but she didn’t notice.

Her focus was a hundred miles deep.

She looked toward her right hand—her dominant casting hand. She rotated it slowly, fingers curling and uncurling.

“I need more aggression in the core…” she murmured. “Too much control. I’m strangling it before it even breathes.”

She sat down, cross-legged, on the marble floor of the stadium.

The mana here was dense—easier to shape.

Her gaze drifted upward to the distant ceiling.

Team Gasia, she thought. Next round. If they corner me, I’ll be forced to go full flame burst—but if I do that, my zone collapses before I even hit half its range. I need a better middle ground.

The thoughts should’ve stayed on the battlefield. But slowly… uninvited…

Her mind wandered.

To someone else.

At first, she didn’t even realize she was thinking of him—just an image flashing past.

Then it deepened.

Fianna noticed the way irritation flickered on his face while shopping at the mall; she thought it was cute how he tried to hide it.

And that stupid way he always says “hm” instead of giving a proper answer.

Why am I thinking about him right now… Fianna blinked, staring ahead. Her breath had slowed. She wasn’t focused on the flames anymore.

A soft silence stretched between her and her thoughts.

She reached into her bag and pulled out her communicator. Her notifications were flooded—some praise for her training progression, some rumors about upcoming matches.

Then Fianna’s thoughts wandered to the fact that someone had torn his clothes and trashed his room, which is why he went to the mall.

First year students wouldn’t do that—not without someone older pulling the strings. It’s too coordinated.

Fianna’s eyes narrowed.

She stood up slowly, brushing the sweat from her neck, her calm demeanor slowly morphing into something more steeled.

Caspian has a brother, she thought. Jaxar. The ‘noble’ golden child of the Arcwright family. And —Eirak. They were both second-years, arrogant as hell.

Her jaw tightened.

So they’re not done. They followed him here too. And now they’re playing games.

The fire around her began to swirl again—slow, graceful, but deeper in hue. A darker red. Controlled this time, not frenzied.

Fianna picked up her towel and slung it over her shoulder.

“Forget the zone for now,” she muttered. “First… Let’s do something about those two.”

‘He has to know,’ Fianna thought as she made her way through the quiet hallway. He’s not dumb. If even I can figure out Eirak and Jaxar are behind this, then there’s no way Caspian hasn’t.

Her fists were stuffed into her pockets, shoulders slightly hunched.

So then… why isn’t he doing anything?

A breeze slipped through the corridor’s window, ruffling a few loose strands of her hair.

It was already evening—the academy’s usual evening hush settling in.

She passed a couple of students in passing, nodding at them, but her thoughts didn’t break their rhythm.

I’ve seen what he can do. That focus in his eyes when he fights. He could take them both if he wanted to. Even Jaxar.

She paused in front of her dorm room and pushed the door open.

The lights were still off.

Maybe he’s just holding back…

She dropped her training bag onto her bed and sighed.

Then—

“Ohhhh wow,” came a voice behind her. “You finally made it back. What’d you do, go take a nap in the lava pit?”

Fianna looked over her shoulder and saw Seraphina leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, hair tied back in a messy bun. Her usual lopsided grin was in full form.

Fianna smirked. “At least I don’t scream when my fire zone fizzles.”

“Low blow,” Seraphina said, strolling in. “I screamed with style. There’s a difference.”

Fianna chuckled and pulled out a cold bottle of water from her storage ring. She took a long sip before sitting down on the edge of her bed.

Then, after a moment, she looked up at her friend.

“Hey, Seraphina.”

“Hmm?”

Fianna looked down at the bottle, rolling it between her palms. “Say… someone beat you up almost daily. A long time ago. And now you’re strong—strong enough to fight back. What would you do?”

Seraphina blinked. She stepped further into the room and leaned her back against the wall.

“Depends,” she said slowly. “Are they still bothering me now?”

Fianna nodded. “Yeah.”

Seraphina tilted her head, thoughtful. “Then I’d want to get even, probably. But… that’s the easy answer.”

Fianna raised an eyebrow. “And the hard one?”

“The hard one,” Seraphina said, tapping her foot against the floor, “is admitting that maybe… even with power, some people still feel stuck. Like… they’re allowed to be angry but not act on it. Like the moment they do, they’ll just prove everyone else right.”

Fianna frowned slightly.

Seraphina shrugged. “You can be strong and still be scared.”

There was a long silence.

Fianna leaned back on her hands. “So you’re saying that person is scared of he isn’t fighting back?”

“I’m saying… maybe he’s alone or weak inside,” Seraphina said gently.

Fianna’s expression softened.

“But he’s not weak,” Fianna said under her breath.

“I know,” Seraphina said. “But even strong people need someone to stand with them, yeah?”

Fianna didn’t say anything.

She stared at the ceiling for a long moment. The shadows from the window danced across the wall. Slowly, a quiet resolve settled into her chest. Not out of pity. Not out of guilt.

But out of understanding.

He’s not staying quiet because he’s scared. He’s staying quiet because he’s carrying more than I can see.

She stood up.

“Where are you going?” Seraphina asked.

Fianna gave her a small smile. “Just need to check on something.”

She didn’t say what.

But in her mind, she already knew.

Caspian might be strong enough to handle things alone.

But maybe…

…he didn’t have to.