The Extra's Rise - Chapter 532

Chapter 532: Shadow (3)
I did feel guilty about what I was doing.

Arthur had made it clear that he planned to spend significant time at home over the coming months—a deliberate effort to make up for the worry he’d caused us during his extended absences. First, there had been those eleven months when he’d vanished to the Northern border without warning, leaving us to wonder if he was alive or dead.

Then came his involvement in the Eastern continent’s war, another period of sleepless nights and unanswered questions for our family.

So my sudden enthusiasm for social activities, my increased requests to spend time with friends from Slatemark Academy, was directly undermining his intentions. I knew this, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

The alternative—sitting at home while he unconsciously demonstrated his superiority in every casual conversation—felt infinitely worse.

That’s how I found myself at Meridian Café in Avalon’s upscale commercial district, surrounded by the familiar chaos of teenage conversation and the aroma of synthetically-enhanced coffee blends. The establishment’s holographic menu flickered softly above each table, and the climate control system maintained perfect temperature despite the afternoon crowds.

The group that had assembled represented a cross-section of Slatemark’s social hierarchy: commoners who had earned their places through sheer determination, and noble children whose presence was expected rather than surprising.

Elena Voss sat across from me, her auburn hair catching the filtered light from the café’s smart-glass windows that automatically adjusted for optimal ambiance. The daughter of a successful tech-merchant family, she possessed the kind of practical intelligence that made her invaluable during group projects and the sort of steady friendship that didn’t fluctuate with academic rankings.

Beside her, Marcus Chen was methodically working through what appeared to be his third lab-grown pastry, his commoner background evident in his appreciation for food that others took for granted in Avalon’s abundance.

“I still can’t believe Professor Valdez assigned a fifteen-page analysis on theoretical mana applications,” Elena groaned, rubbing her temples. “As if we don’t have enough to worry about with the practical exams coming up.”

“At least you’re not struggling with Advanced Combat Theory,” Marcus muttered, crumbs falling from his pastry. “I swear Baron Aldrich designs those scenarios specifically to make commoners feel inadequate.”

Lydia Ashworth, the Earl’s daughter, adjusted her posture with the unconscious elegance that came from years of deportment training. “Baron Aldrich is actually quite fair. He simply expects everyone to think tactically, regardless of background.”

Her voice carried that particular cadence of nobility—measured, precise, never hurried. “Though I admit his methods can be… intense.”

“Easy for you to say,” James Blackwood interjected, his dark eyes reflecting the glow from his personal device’s screen. “Your family’s been studying military strategy for generations. Some of us are learning this from scratch.”

The Viscount’s son had a way of making observations that sounded both bitter and resigned. Not angry, exactly, but aware of the advantages others possessed through birthright alone.

“That’s not entirely true,” Elena defended, her merchant pragmatism showing. “My family’s background actually helps with logistics and resource management aspects. Different perspectives have their advantages.”

I found myself nodding along, grateful for the familiar rhythm of academic complaints. These conversations were comfortable, normal—the kind of discussion that reminded me why I valued these friendships despite the constant pressure we all faced at Slatemark.

“Speaking of advantages,” Marcus continued, “did anyone else notice how Countess Meredith’s daughter somehow knew exactly which practical scenarios would be on the mid-term?”

“Information networks,” James replied knowingly. “Noble families maintain extensive intelligence gathering. It’s not technically cheating if the information is publicly available through the right channels.”

“Right channels that require connections we don’t have,” Elena pointed out with mild frustration.

“Welcome to the real world,” Lydia said, though not unkindly. “Networking is as important as studying. More important, in many cases.”

The conversation meandered through familiar territory—complaints about professors, upcoming assignments, the social dynamics that made academy life both enriching and exhausting. It was the kind of discussion that made me feel normal, like just another student struggling with the same challenges as everyone else.

Then Marcus, scrolling through his news feed while eating, suddenly straightened in his seat.

“Oh wow, did you guys see this?” He turned his smart-tablet toward the group, the holographic display casting blue light across his face. “There’s breaking news about the Eastern Coalition’s formal announcement.”

And just like that, the conversation shifted to the topic that seemed to dominate every social gathering these days.

“I still can’t believe your brother actually did it,” said Lydia, her noble bearing evident in every carefully modulated syllable. The Earl’s daughter had a way of making even casual observations sound like pronouncements. “Defeating a Vice-Captain of the Imperial Knights? At Integration-rank?”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, the familiar knot forming in my stomach. “It was just a sparring match.”

“Just a sparring match?” Marcus nearly choked on his pastry, setting down his smart-tablet where live news feeds continued scrolling. “Aria, that Vice-Captain was peak Ascendant-rank. Do you understand what that means?”

He leaned forward, crumbs still clinging to his shirt. “Your brother fought someone who could probably level half this district and won.”

“Did you see the announcement from the Eastern Continent?” Lydia produced her latest-model phone, its holographic display projecting a three-dimensional news interface. “They’re officially awarding him the Order of the Crimson Dawn.”

The hologram rotated slowly, showing official seals and ceremonial imagery. “The vote was unanimous through their blockchain-verified council system. That makes it three civilian honors from three different continents.”

“Three?” Marcus looked genuinely confused, setting down his pastry to pay closer attention.

“The Medal for Merit from our own Slatemark Empire,” Elena counted off on her fingers, clearly having researched this extensively. “The Star of Valor from the Northern Continent for his work against the Shadow Seekers.”

“And now the Order of the Crimson Dawn from the Eastern Coalition,” Lydia continued, “for delaying that Vampire Ancestor and saving Princess Seraphina Zenith during the war.”

“That’s unprecedented for someone his age,” James observed with genuine admiration. “My grandfather has two such medals, and he’s considered one of the most distinguished diplomats of his generation.”

I found myself caught between pride and discomfort again. These were my friends, people I genuinely cared about, and their admiration for Arthur was both justified and sincere. Yet hearing them discuss my brother with such reverence created a peculiar distance.

It was as if they were talking about a legendary figure rather than the person who had ruffled my hair that morning.

“Speaking of Princess Seraphina,” Elena said with barely contained excitement, “the relationship confirmations are everywhere now.”

Marcus looked up from his tablet, suddenly alert. “Wait, what? What relationship confirmations?”

“You haven’t been following the story?” Lydia raised an eyebrow in genuine surprise. “It’s been the biggest news cycle in months.”

She manipulated her holographic display, pulling up what appeared to be a comprehensive news compilation. “Arthur Nightingale is officially confirmed to be romantically involved with three princesses and a marquis’s daughter.”

“Four people?” Marcus nearly dropped his pastry. “He’s dating four of the most powerful women on multiple continents simultaneously?”

“Princess Rachel Creighton of the Northern Continent,” Elena listed with the precision of someone who had been following every development. “Princess Cecilia Slatemark of our own Empire here on the Central Continent.”

“Princess Seraphina Zenith of the Eastern Continent,” Lydia added, “and Lady Rose Springshaper, daughter of Marquis Springshaper right here in the Slatemark Empire.”

James leaned back in his chair, his political mind clearly working through implications. “And they all know about each other. The diplomatic ramifications alone are staggering.”

He gestured with his device, which displayed what looked like complex relationship charts. “He’s essentially created a romantic alliance network that spans three continents and includes four of the most politically significant unmarried women in the known world.”

“How does that even work?” Elena wondered aloud, her practical nature showing. “I mean, logistically speaking, how do you maintain relationships with four women of such high status?”

“Very carefully, I imagine,” Lydia replied with dry humor. “Though from what I understand, it’s not entirely uncommon among the highest levels of nobility. Power marriages often involve complex arrangements.”

“But these aren’t arranged marriages,” Marcus pointed out, still looking stunned. “The reports say these are genuine romantic relationships. He actually convinced three princesses and a marquis’s daughter to share him willingly.”

“Which is either incredibly romantic or completely insane,” Elena added with a laugh. “I can’t decide which.”

The conversation continued, but I found myself retreating internally. This wasn’t just idle gossip—Arthur’s romantic life had become a matter of international interest, with political analysts debating the implications of his choices and news networks tracking his movements between continents.

“Aria,” Elena turned her attention to me with bright curiosity. “What’s it actually like? Having a brother who’s basically become the most eligible bachelor in recorded history?”

The question caught me off guard, as it always did. How could I explain that Arthur still left his dishes in the sink sometimes? That he hummed off-key while practicing sword forms in our garden? That he remained fundamentally the same caring older brother, even as the world began treating him like a mythical figure?