The Extra's Rise - Chapter 388

Chapter 388: Vryndall (2)
The Crystalline Haven’s grand ballroom lived up to its name—a circular space where faceted surfaces caught and amplified the magical lighting, creating an atmosphere of refined splendor. Circular tables accommodated ten students each, with the professors seated at a slightly elevated table that overlooked the room.

I found myself directed to the Class A table, where Lucifer Windward already sat with perfect posture, his aristocratic features set in their habitual expression of polite interest. He acknowledged my arrival with a slight nod.

“Arthur,” he said, his voice carrying that peculiar mix of genuine warmth and instinctive competitiveness. “I trust you’ve prepared adequately for whatever challenge awaits us here.”

“As much as possible without knowing the specifics,” I replied, taking the seat beside him.

Lucifer’s emerald eyes studied me with uncomfortable perception. “You seem… preoccupied. More so than usual.”

Before I could formulate a response, Ren Kagu dropped into the chair opposite me, his perpetually calculating gaze sweeping over us both.

“Discussing strategy already?” he asked, reaching for the crystal water goblet at his place setting. “Or just the usual measuring contest between Rank One and Rank Two?”

“I prefer to think of it as mutual professional respect,” Lucifer replied smoothly.

Ren snorted. “Call it what you want. The rest of us are just waiting to see which of you slips up first.”

“Such cynicism from our esteemed Rank Three,” came Cecilia’s voice as she approached, crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. “One might almost suspect jealousy.”

Ren’s expression remained neutral, but I caught the slight tightening of his fingers around his goblet. Cecilia’s barbs always managed to find their mark with surgical precision.

“Princess,” he acknowledged with exaggerated politeness. “Stunning as always. Is that dress new, or merely newly altered to better emphasize your… political assets?”

Rachel appeared before Cecilia could respond, placing a restraining hand on the princess’s arm while fixing Ren with a glacial stare. “Perhaps we could maintain decorum for at least the duration of the first course?”

“Dreadfully dull, but I suppose there’s merit in tradition,” Cecilia conceded, allowing Rachel to guide her to a seat—strategically positioned on my other side.

Seraphina arrived next, silver hair elegantly styled in a complex arrangement that somehow managed to look both effortless and meticulously planned. She acknowledged each of us with a precise nod before taking the seat beside Ren.

“The northern light suits you,” I commented, a smile gracing my lips.

“Thank you,” Seraphina replied, the faintest hint of color touching her pale cheeks. “The Eastern continent has nothing comparable to Vryndall’s illumination.”

Rose slipped into the seat beside Seraphina, her arrival as unobtrusive as always. While the others commanded attention through force of personality or status, Rose’s quiet presence was easily overlooked—a misconception that often proved costly to those who underestimated her.

“You’ve been exploring already?” I asked, noting the small notebook she tucked away as she sat.

She nodded, a warm smile lighting her features. “The hotel has the most fascinating architecture. I’ve been sketching some of the junction points.”

“Of course you have,” Cecilia said, though her tone lacked its usual edge when addressing Rose. “Ever the diligent scholar.”

Jin Ashbluff arrived with his typical calculated timing—late enough to make an entrance but not so late as to appear disrespectful. His royal upbringing was evident in every movement, from the precise angle of his bow to the professors to the carefully calibrated smile he offered our table.

“My apologies for the delay,” he said, taking the seat beside Rose.

Ian Viserion slid into the next available chair, his fiery red hair messy despite the formal setting. His perpetually distracted air contrasted sharply with Jin’s calculated presence.

“Did I miss anything important?” he asked, glancing up from what appeared to be mid-sentence reading.

“Only the usual posturing,” Ren replied dryly. “You’re just in time for the formal commencement of hostilities.”

The final member of Class A arrived last—Clara Lopez, her appearance suggesting she’d only just woken from her bus journey nap. Despite her obvious haste in dressing, she carried herself with the determined dignity that had earned her place among us.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, sliding into the last chair. “Alarm didn’t go off.”

“More likely you slept through it,” Cecilia observed, though not unkindly.

Clara shrugged, neither confirming nor denying.

Before the conversation could continue, servers appeared with the first course—crystallized ice wines, smoked leviathan from the Frozen Seas, and delicate pastries that glowed with shifting colors. The meal was clearly designed to impress, a reminder of the Northern continent’s wealth and sophistication.

As we ate, the conversation shifted to speculation about our upcoming assignments. Lucifer maintained his usual reserved demeanor, offering measured opinions when asked but otherwise observing. Ren, by contrast, seemed determined to analyze every possibility, constructing elaborate scenarios for each potential task.

“Individual assignments would be logical,” he was saying, gesturing with his fork. “We’ve already done a lot of team-based assignments. The next step would be demonstrating self-sufficiency in unfamiliar territory.”

“I agree,” Seraphina said, her tone measured. “Though I suspect the tasks will be structured to encourage some degree of cooperation despite being individually assigned.”

“Hoping to be paired with someone specific?” Cecilia asked innocently, though her knowing smile suggested otherwise.

Seraphina’s expression remained perfectly controlled. “Merely stating the obvious tactical advantage of complementary skill sets.”

As dessert was served—frozen cloudberry soufflés that melted into warm compote upon contact with the spoon—Professor Nero rose to address the gathered students.

“Welcome to Vryndall,” he began, his commanding voice instantly silencing all conversation. “Tomorrow marks the beginning of your first practical evaluation for this semester. Unlike previous years, where we emphasized team dynamics, this evaluation will focus on individual capability and adaptability.”

A murmur of interest rippled through the ballroom. Individual assignments were unusual for field trips, especially in potentially dangerous locations like Vryndall.

“Each of you will receive a task specifically tailored to your abilities and developmental needs,” Nero continued. “These assignments will test not only your technical skills but your judgment and decision-making under pressure.”

His gray eyes swept across the room, lingering briefly on our table.

“Class A students, given your advanced capabilities, your tasks will involve higher risk factors and greater autonomy. You will be operating without direct supervision, though you will be required to check in at designated intervals.”

Cecilia straightened in her seat, a predatory smile playing at her lips. “Finally, a chance to operate without constraints.”

“Don’t get too excited,” Jin murmured. “Higher risk means higher potential for failure as well.”

“The specific details of your assignments will be transmitted to your personal devices at dawn,” Nero concluded. “You will have two days to complete your tasks. I suggest you use tonight to rest and prepare accordingly.”

As the formal portion of the evening concluded and students began to mingle, Rose appeared at my side, her expression thoughtful.

“What do you think they’ll assign us?” she asked, her voice pitched low enough that only I could hear.

“Something challenging,” I replied. “Probably involving our areas of specialty, but with unexpected elements to test our adaptability.”

She nodded, considering this. “Would you…” she hesitated, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “After we complete our first day’s tasks tomorrow, would you be willing to accompany me to the botanical gardens in the northwest district? They have night-blooming spectral lilies that I’ve been wanting to see.”

The invitation was presented casually, but I recognized the careful consideration behind it. Rose, unlike the others, rarely demanded time or attention. Her requests were gentle, thoughtful, and infrequent—which made them all the more difficult to refuse.

“I’d like that,” I found myself saying, despite my reservations about making any plans in a city destined for destruction.

Her smile in response was radiant, genuine pleasure lighting her features. “Wonderful. It’s supposed to be quite beautiful,” she added, a hint of color touching her cheeks.