The Cursed Extra: Bloodline of Sacrifice - Chapter 93

Chapter 93: The Reyes Duchy Hostel

Ed followed the guard through the grand palace gardens.

The scent of grass and flowers filled the air, illuminated by the golden hues of the evening sun.

At the center of the vast green field sat Valtira Reyes, the Lightning Queen.

Her silver-white hair shimmered in the dimming light, her sharp gray eyes locked onto a conversation with an assistant beside her.

She radiated presence—controlled, poised, utterly unfazed by the world around her.

But the moment she glanced in Ed’s direction, something flickered in her gaze.

Shock. Recognition.

She stood up. “You can go now,” she said, dismissing her assistant.

Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, she gestured toward Ed. “Come here.”

Ed approached.

He made sure his expression carried just the right balance—lost, uncertain, vulnerable.

As he stopped a few feet from her, Bloodmoon materialized in his hand.

A silent message.

Valtira’s sharp eyes traced the blade.

A slow inhale.

A slight shift in posture. And then—understanding.

“Oh,” she murmured. “So you’re that boy.”

Ed gave a small nod. “Hmm.”

Her gaze swept over him, assessing. “What brings you here?”

“I’m looking for a place to stay.”

“You don’t have a home?” There was no mockery in her voice, only curiosity.

Ed remained silent for a moment.

He lowered his gaze slightly, just enough to look hesitant—as if it was difficult to admit.

Then, he gave a small nod.

Valtira studied him, then turned toward her assistant. “His name?”

The assistant quickly pulled up her device.

After few seconds—

“Caspian Arcwright. Youngest son of the Arcwright family. Date of birth: January 11, 2016. He was reported missing—”

“Enough,” Valtira interrupted.

Her gaze returned to Ed, unreadable.

She already knew who he was.

After their first encounter— she has researched about him.

The Arcwright family.

Caspian was the youngest son, born into privilege but cast aside.

A boy whose existence was erased from records, whose family never even filed a serious search effort when he disappeared.

And now, here he stood.

Ed met her gaze, playing the part well. “You once said you wanted to make up for beating me that day,” he said, his voice steady, calculated. “Now, I have a request—I need a place to stay.”

Valtira raised an eyebrow. “And you think I’d help you?”

“You’re not that kind of person, i know you are very kind” Ed said simply.

That made her pause.

Kindness. A foolish trait in her world.

She wasn’t soft—not in the way people assumed. But she had a rule: she did not ignore those who sought her out.

And this boy—Caspian Arcwright.

Valtira exhaled. “Provide him a room at the academy’s hostel,” she said to her assistant.

Ed kept his expression steady, but inwardly, he smirked.

Plan successful.

“If you ever have a problem,” Valtira added, her voice calm but firm, “you can come to me.”

Ed nodded. “Thank you.”

Valtira watched him a moment longer before turning away.

But even as she walked off, something about this boy unsettled her.

Not in a dangerous way.

But because she had a feeling—he wasn’t just lost.

He was searching for something.

She stopped suddenly and turned back.

“You are an Arcwright. If someone found out that you are here, that might be a problem,” Valtira said.

Ed’s expression didn’t change. “No one will find out because no one knows me. And no one is searching for me.”

Those words struck something deep in Valtira’s heart. A dull ache.

As the assistant led Ed toward the boys’ dormitory, Valtira sent a message to her assistant.

<Keep him in check>

Valtira’s words were simple, but the meaning was clear.

She wasn’t fully convinced about Caspian Arcwright.

A noble outcast appearing at her doorstep with nowhere to go—she had seen enough deception in her life to remain cautious.

But there was also something unsettling about him. His presence, his demeanor… and most of all, his words.

“No one will find out because no one knows me, and no one is searching for me.”

That sentence lingered in her mind longer than it should have.

The boys’ dormitory was a towering structure built with sturdy stone, exuding an air of discipline and endurance.

Unlike noble estates filled with luxury, this place was practical.

It had long hallways lined with doors, each leading to shared rooms meant for three students.

This dorm housed those without families or those who came from distant territories to study.

It was a melting pot—nobles who weren’t wealthy enough to have private estates in the city, commoners who had fought their way up through raw talent, and orphans with nowhere else to go.

Of course, this mixture meant one thing: conflict.

Noble students saw commoners as stepping stones.

The commoners, in return, despised the arrogance of the nobility.

Bullying wasn’t just common—it was expected. Power dictated everything.

If you were weak, you suffered. If you were strong, you thrived.

And all of them had the same goal:

To enter one of the great academies.

.

Ed lay on his bed, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. The room had three beds, a simple wooden table, and a single window that barely let the evening light seep through.

It wasn’t luxurious, but it was enough.

“Aah… everything is settled for now.”

The Academy.

The world’s academies were divided into two categories—

Firstly National-Level Academies

These academies were race-specific and existed in every major nation.

In the human continent, there were three national academies—each competing to produce the strongest warriors, mages, and tacticians.

The elves, mermaids ,vampires, and other races had their own national academies as well.

While these institutions were prestigious, they were still limited to their own race.

But for those who truly sought the pinnacle—there was a higher goal.

International-Level Academies

Unlike the national academies, the two international academies accepted students from all races.

They were the true proving grounds, where only the best of the best competed.

Every year, 1,000,000 candidates took the entrance exams. From them, only the top 10,000 were selected.

The top 5,000 students earned a place in the First International Academy, the most elite institution in the world.

The next 5,000 were placed in the Second International Academy, still an incredible achievement, but a step below the top.

Only those who possessed martial bloodlines were even allowed to take the exam.

Bloodline power determined everything. Talent alone was never enough.

And this school? It was merely a training ground for noble families to prepare their contenders for the entrance exam.

Those who failed to qualify for international academies would be placed in national academies.

And those who failed even that? They were discarded—forced into mediocrity while others ascended.

It was a brutal system.

And Ed was about to step right into it.