The Cursed Extra: Bloodline of Sacrifice - Chapter 77

Chapter 77: Banquet Scene – The Whispered Judgement

Arianna stretched as she got up.

“I’ll be back in a bit. My family will throw a fit if I don’t at least say hello.”

Ed gave a short nod. “Go ahead.”

She ruffled his hair in passing, muttering something about not getting into trouble before walking away.

And just like that, he was alone.

He leaned back slightly in his chair, resting one arm on the table.

The music flowed through the hall, elegant and rhythmic.

Ed knew the atmosphere well.

It was the kind of place where everything was calculated—every word, every glance, every interaction had meaning.

And then, right on schedule, the whispers started.

It began in the usual way. Soft, just on the edges of hearing.

“A human? Sitting among us?”

“Elven blood runs in this hall, and yet here he is, polluting the air.”

Ed barely blinked. Predictable.

These kinds of comments didn’t bother him.

He had expected them.

Knew they would come the moment he stepped into this hall.

But then the whispers grew sharper.

“How desperate must he be? Clinging to a place where he isn’t wanted.”

“Abandoned by humans. Tolerated by elves. He has no place in either world.”

A noblewoman’s voice, laced with quiet amusement:

“I heard even his mother threw him away. Imagine birthing a son only to discard him like trash.”

Ed’s fingers tapped lightly against the table. His expression didn’t change.

He wasn’t suffocating—he was just annoyed.

These whispers weren’t cutting—they were pathetic.

He had heard worse. Lived through worse.

What was this? Some kind of attempt to provoke him?

He exhaled quietly, rolling his shoulders back. Let them talk.

Their words weren’t weapons.

Then—

“What’s worse? Being abandoned? Or being replaced?”

Something in the tone caught his attention.

Ed’s gaze flickered slightly to the side.

A group of noblemen stood nearby, sipping wine with lazy amusement.

Their eyes weren’t even on him, as if he was barely worth addressing directly.

“It’s not as if she died,” one of them said casually. “She simply left him. And had another son. A proper one.”

“Truly,” another mused. “What does that say about him?”

‘What the bullshit they are spouting’ ed thought.

Ed glanced at his cold drink glass.

But they were annoying, and he felt an overwhelming urge to punch them in the face for spreading such a malicious rumor.

Not worth it.

If he lashed out now, they would win.

So instead, he smiled slightly to himself. They were getting desperate.

Then—

A soft voice cut through the murmurs.

“Would you dance with me?”

Ed turned his head.

A young elven girl stood beside him.

Around his age—fifteen or sixteen—with golden hair braided over one shoulder.

She was dressed elegantly, the kind of noble attire that suggested she belonged to a powerful family.

She smiled sweetly, tilting her head. “I’ve been watching you for a while, and I’d love to share a dance.”

The hall grew quiet.

Nobles turned their attention subtly, interest flickering in their gazes.

Ed knew exactly what this was.

This wasn’t about a dance.

This was about forcing him into a situation he couldn’t escape from.

If he agreed, he’d be entertaining them.

A spectacle, dancing with an elven noble and then by mistake girl will fall.

But If he refused, it would be worse.

His rejection wouldn’t just be personal—it would be insulting.

Ed leaned back slightly, his gaze meeting hers.

He knew the game.

But still, he wasn’t playing tonight.

So he gave a short, direct response.

“Sorry! I am not feeling well.”

The girl’s smile didn’t falter, but something shifted in her expression.

A hush settled over the banquet hall.

Ed’s refusal still hung in the air, clear and deliberate.

For a brief moment, nothing happened.

The elven girl remained in place, her polite smile never wavering.

But Ed could see the flicker of something behind her eyes—something calculated.

Then—she let out a soft, almost musical laugh.

“Oh,” she said, tilting her head slightly, voice carrying just enough for nearby nobles to overhear. “I suppose humans don’t understand basic courtesy.”

A murmur rippled through the gathered nobility.

Ed remained seated, unmoving.

He knew exactly where this was going.

And then—

A second voice, sharper, heavier with authority.

“How strange.”

Ed didn’t react immediately.

He had felt this coming before it even happened.

Still, when he looked up, his gaze met a tall, regal elven woman—the girl’s mother.

Her presence commanded immediate attention.

She was beautiful, but in a way that held no warmth.

Her crimson eyes swept over Ed with subtle disdain, as if she were inspecting something beneath her notice.

She let the silence linger just long enough before speaking again, ensuring all eyes were on her.

“A human… refusing my daughter?” Her voice carried the kind of quiet amusement that dripped with condescension. “How rare.”

The murmurs returned, stronger now.

“He rejected her?”

“How arrogant.”

“He doesn’t know his place.”

Ed stayed silent. He wasn’t going to fall into the trap.

But the noblewoman wasn’t done.

She placed a delicate hand against her chest, feigning mild distress. “Did he truly speak to you so disrespectfully, my dear?”

The girl lowered her gaze, her expression crafted to perfection—embarrassed, hesitant, as if she was struggling to answer.

“I… I must have misheard,” she murmured softly, just loud enough to be overheard. “I thought I was being polite…”

The murmurs swelled.

It was a well-practiced maneuver.

A slow, subtle twisting of the situation until the facts no longer mattered—only the perception did.

And the perception was this: Ed had insulted an elven noblewoman’s daughter in front of the entire gathering.

Ed didn’t move. Didn’t react.

He could feel the weight of every gaze on him.

He could already hear how this would spread—how the rumors would take on lives of their own.

This wasn’t about a dance.

It was about isolating him. About making a point.

Because in their eyes, he was an anomaly that shouldn’t exist.

If he argued, he’d be seen as an insolent human.

If he remained silent, it would be taken as an admission of guilt.

The elven noblewoman exhaled softly, shaking her head.

“This is why—” she began, her voice gentle but firm, “—there are places for humans, and there are places for nobles.”

The words weren’t loud.

But the meaning behind them was razor-sharp.

The banquet hall had gone entirely still, the weight of judgment settling over him like an iron cage.

And then—

A voice, smooth and unmistakable, cut through the tension.

“Would you dance with me?”

The entire room turned.

Vynesaa stood there, poised, her lavender eyes meeting Ed’s with a calm, unreadable expression.

And just like that—the entire power dynamic shifted.