The Cursed Extra: Bloodline of Sacrifice - Chapter 91

Chapter 91: The Weight of Chains

“What is family?”

The thought drifted in his mind.

Lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, Ed—Caspian Arcwright.

Was family the people you were born to?

The ones who shared your blood?

If so, why did they break him?

Why did they carve into his flesh and shatter his bones as if he were something less than human?

If family was supposed to love you, then why did they watch as he begged for mercy and found none?

Or was family something else?

Something you found, something you built?

The ones who stood by you not because they had to, but because they wanted to.

He thought of Vynesaa, of Zareth, of the people who had become something close to home.

People who had given him a place where he was more than just a forgotten son of a noble house.

But could he really say he belonged?

He turned on his side, eyes unfocused as the past clawed at him.

The old Caspian had died in that house.

The weak boy who clung to hope, who wanted to be accepted, who longed for a kindness that never came—he had been beaten, broken, and discarded.

They had buried him beneath their cruelty, and what rose from that grave was not the same person.

Ed sat up, running a hand through his hair, his breath uneven.

He had promised that boy something.

That if he ever got a chance, He would make them pay. Not with empty rage, not with reckless vengeance, but with something greater.

With the kind of justice the world had denied him.

And yet, now they were coming for him.

Calling him back as if he were some misplaced possession.

As if the scars had healed and he should simply return, as if he could look those murderers in the eyes and pretend they weren’t the ones who crushed him.

His hands clenched into fists.

Going back there would be like living with the very people who killed him.

He swung his legs off the bed and stood.

The dim light of the room cast his reflection in the mirror across from him.

He looked at himself. Not just at his face, but at the hollows beneath his eyes.

Could he stand in that house and pretend he belonged? Could he sit at their table and eat with the same hands that had once chained him?

Could he look Eleana in the eye and tell her nothing had changed?

No.

He exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening.

He would not go back. Not to that house. Not to those people. Not to that life.

He had already died once. He would not crawl back into his own grave.

“I am not going back there.”

Ed sat on the edge of his bed.

His mind raced through the possibilities, each one a dead end.

Where could he go?

His options were limited.

The Arcwright estate was out of the question—going back was never an option.

Redmond? Equally impossible.

The very people who once smiled in his presence had conspired to have him killed. He had seen their noble house mark in Lupivore’s memory.

That betrayal had been seared into his soul. He would rather rot than place himself in their grasp.

The Elven Palace?

Aeloria had already informed the Arcwrights of his presence. By tomorrow, they would be here. There was no safety here anymore.

It had only been an illusion—a fleeting reprieve before the noose tightened around his neck.

Then where?

He was in the world of a novel he had once read.

Think.

The protagonist—where would he be right now?

Reyes Duchy.

The school, living a life akin to hell. That was where the real protagonist suffered, biding his time in silent torment.

Reyes Duchy…

Something stirred in his mind. Bloodmoon hummed faintly, as if recalling something lost in time.

{Reyes Duchy… I feel like…}

The connection was there, just out of reach. Then, like lightning splitting the sky, a name surfaced in his mind.

Valtira.

The Lightning Queen.

His heartbeat quickened.

{Child, do you truly not remember? Fuck your mentality.}

Bloodmoon’s voice was sharper than usual, carrying an almost amused exasperation.

“What do you mean?” Ed muttered, his fingers clenching into the sheets.

{You were beaten by her, child. When you visited the church.}

A distant, long-buried memory resurfaced—a much younger Caspian, sitted on a chair taking slaps.

Ed exhaled.

“Oh…” A small smirk played at his lips. “Then that’s my next stop.”

.

Everything was set.

Ed let out a slow breath, his fingers tightening around the small black device in his hand.

_________

Gravity Flights

Number of tickets: 1

Passenger name: Ed

Flight timing and date: 8:00 AM, 23rd Feb 2031.

_________

His eyes lingered on the date.

February 23rd.

The birthday of the real Ed.

A bitter chuckle escaped his lips. “How ironic.”

For a moment, his mind drifted back—not to this world, not to Caspian Arcwright’s twisted past, but to the life he had left behind.

His real life.

Memories surfaced unbidden.

The scent of home-cooked meals, the warmth of his mother’s embrace, the quiet presence of his father sitting by the window, lost in a book.

The simple, mundane moments that once felt endless, now reduced to fragments, slipping through.

I wonder how they’re doing.

He clenched his jaw, exhaling slowly.

I hope they’re okay. I hope… they’re happy.

But he knew better.

A part of him whispered that they must have searched for him, grieved for him, cried over the empty space he left behind.

He had disappeared without a trace, leaving them.

His chest tightened.

I’m sorry for not being a good son.

He shut his eyes for a moment, swallowing down the emotions threatening to rise.

But the guilt gnawed at him, a deep, unshakable ache.

I miss you, Mom.

He allowed himself that moment of weakness, that fleeting second where he was not Ed, not Caspian Arcwright, not the person running from his past—just a son who had lost his family.

His fingers hovered over the screen before locking the phone with a click.

No. Focus.

The Arcwright family was coming for him. He couldn’t afford to hesitate.

He turned toward the packed bags by the door, each item carefully stored within his void space.

He had spent years in this kingdom, forging bonds, learning its ways, and for the first time, he had found something close to a home.

But that peace was an illusion. The moment Arcwright learned of his existence, it had shattered.

He had to leave.

Where? That had been the question haunting him all night.

Reyes Duchy.

That was where the protagonist was.