The Cursed Extra: Bloodline of Sacrifice - Chapter 94

Chapter 94: The Cycle of Strength

“Hey.”

A voice snapped Caspian out of his thoughts.

He turned, eyes settling on a boy with shaggy blond hair and sharp green eyes, standing by the door.

“Are you new here?” the boy asked.

“Yes,” Caspian replied simply.

The boy grinned and extended a hand. “Marco.”

Caspian took the handshake, “Caspian.”

A sudden cheer erupted from outside, followed by loud, mocking voices.

“Woooooo!”

“Yeah! Beat that idiot to the ground!”

Marco sighed, rubbing his temples. “Oh, I hate them. They never have anything better to do. Always fighting over stupid things.”

“Who?” Caspian asked.

Marco tilted his head. “Come see for yourself.”

Caspian followed him out of the room, down the hallway.

As they neared the edge of the second-floor balcony, overlooking the ground floor, Caspian’s eyes narrowed.

The sight below—

A circle of students had gathered, their faces alight with excitement, watching two boys brawl in the open space.

And in the middle of it—

Caspian smirked. “Lyrius… If I’m not wrong.”

His eyes locked onto a boy with wild black hair and deep brown eyes, his face streaked with sweat and dirt.

The protagonist of this world.

Lyrius stood his ground, his breathing heavy, his fists clenched.

But the fight was anything but fair.

His opponent, a broad-shouldered noble boy.

Smack!

A punch connected with Lyrius’ face, snapping his head to the side.

“You commoner bastard. Your mother’s a whore who left you!”

Smack!

“Don’t ever show your face around Calenthir again, you trash!”

Smack!

——

[POV: Lyrius]

Pain.

It wasn’t unfamiliar.

The moment the first punch landed, Lyrius knew how this would go. He had been through it before.

But something inside him shifted.

As his opponent swung again, Lyrius’ mind sharpened.

“I understand it now,” he said.

He saw the pattern.

Right.

Right again.

Fake right… then left.

Lyrius dodged, his instincts screaming.

His body was slow, but his mind was faster.

He crouched low, scooping a handful of sand from the floor and flinging it into the noble’s face.

“Argh!” The boy flinched, blinded for a moment.

Without hesitation, Lyrius moved.

His foot swept forward, striking at the noble’s legs, shifting his center of mass.

THUD!

The boy crashed to the ground, stunned.

Lyrius wasted no time. He jumped on him, pinning him down.

And then—

SMACK!

A punch to the jaw.

SMACK!

Another to the nose.

SMACK!

Lyrius’ fists moved on their own. He didn’t care anymore.

Didn’t care if they called him a commoner.

Didn’t care if they mocked his past.

They had been hitting him for years.

And now—

He was hitting back.

SMACK!

SMACK!

SMACK!

“Leave me!” The noble screamed.

Lyrius didn’t stop.

“HELP ME!”

Then—

THUD!

A sudden force knocked Lyrius sideways.

He hit the ground hard, pain flaring through his ribs.

One of the noble’s friends had jumped in.

And before Lyrius could react—

They all pounced.

SMACK!

A fist drove into his stomach.

SMACK!

A kick slammed into his ribs.

Lyrius curled inward, gasping for air.

“It’s cheating,” his mind whispered.

But of course, they didn’t care.

SMACK!

‘Bastards… it hurts.’

SMACK!

‘Why? I didn’t even say anything to them.’

SMACK!

‘No… that’s exactly why they’re hitting me.’

SMACK!

“Because I exist.”

The words came like a whisper in his mind. A bitter, cruel realization sinking deep into his bones.

The noble above him sneered. “You whore’s child.”

Lyrius barely heard it.

His body ached. His vision blurred.

Something inside him crumbled.

His hands, once clenched into fists, loosened.

His breath, once burning with defiance, slowed.

Maybe it’s easier if I just stop resisting.

Maybe they were right.

Maybe he really was worthless.

SMACK!

Pain.

It was everywhere.

A dull ache in his ribs.

A sharp sting on his cheek.

A throbbing, pounding sensation in his head that made the world blur.

But the worst pain wasn’t physical.

It was the weight pressing down on his chest.

The suffocating feeling of helplessness.

SMACK!

Another fist crashed into his face, forcing his head to the side.

Blood filled his mouth.

The metallic taste mixed with the bitterness swelling inside him.

‘What have I done?’

‘Why does it always have to be me?’

Lyrius didn’t beg. He never did.

Because begging never changed anything.

‘I didn’t ask for this life.’

‘I didn’t ask to be born like this.’

SMACK!

His vision darkened.

‘Is it because my mother left me? Is it because my father was too much of a coward to raise me?’

No.

No, that wasn’t it.

That was just an excuse.

This world—this whole damned world—was rotten to the core.

And it had chosen him to be its victim.

SMACK!

Lyrius’ fingers twitched. A weak, pitiful movement.

But in his mind, something stronger stirred.

‘I swear…’

‘One day this whole damn world, all of you no matter who you are will pay for this.’

The faces of his attackers blurred together. They were nothing but nameless insects.

He wouldn’t remember their names.

Because one day, they would be begging to remember his.

As the next hit landed, his mind sank into darkness.

And in that void, a cold fire began to burn.

———

[POV: Caspian]

Caspian watched from the second floor, arms crossed.

His crimson eyes traced the scene below—Lyrius on the ground, curled up, taking every hit with gritted teeth.

His attackers sneering, kicking, laughing.

It wasn’t a fight anymore. It was a lesson.

And Caspian understood it well.

“That’s rough.”

But he didn’t move.

It wasn’t his problem.

Stepping in now? It wasn’t worth it.

That beating Lyrius was taking—it would shape him.

Pain had a way of carving a man into something else. Something stronger. Something colder.

“Character development.”

Caspian smirked at his own thought.

Some might call him heartless. Maybe he was. But he had read enough stories, seen enough people, to know one simple truth:

Suffering creates monsters.

And right now, Lyrius was being forged into something dangerous.

Caspian turned away.

He had other things to do.

As he walked back to his room, the echoes of fists striking flesh faded into the distance.

And somewhere in the darkness of unconsciousness, Lyrius’ world shifted forever.