The Extra's Rise - Chapter 92

Chapter 92: Homecoming (8) Chapter 92: Homecoming (8) After dinner, the air in the apartment softened into something more relaxed, though traces of the earlier tension still lingered faintly in the corners of the room.

Rachel and Cecilia, despite their usual verbal sparring, had toned it down during the meal, and now both seemed ready to leave.

Rachel was the first to stand, smoothing out her skirt and offering a warm smile.

“Thank you for the dinner, Ms.

Nightingale,” she said, bowing politely to my mother, who waved it off with a laugh.

“Oh, please, dear, you’re welcome anytime,” my mother replied.

“It was lovely having you here.” Cecilia, naturally, stood in a far less formal fashion, stretching her arms above her head as if she’d just completed some arduous task.

“Yes, yes, thank you for the food,” she said with a lazy grin.

“Not bad for a home-cooked meal, really.” “You’re lucky my mother is so gracious,” I said dryly, earning a chuckle from my dad and a mock glare from Cecilia.

“Well,” Rachel said, turning to me, “I suppose we should get going.” “Yeah, it’s late,” I said, walking them to the door.

Aria, who had spent most of the evening starstruck, hovered nearby, waving enthusiastically at Rachel and Cecilia like a fan seeing their favorite idols.

Rachel turned to me with a radiant smile that was so warm it almost made me forget how easily she could put a Light spell through someone’s chest.

“Take care, Arthur,” she said softly.

Then, without hesitation, she stepped forward and hugged me.

It wasn’t the first time Rachel had hugged me, but it still caught me off guard.

Her arms wrapped around me gently, and for a moment, I caught the faint scent of lilies.

“Thank you for today,” she whispered, her voice sincere, before stepping back.

I nodded, unable to find words that didn’t feel clumsy or inadequate.

Then, it was Cecilia’s turn.

She stepped forward with her usual smirk, though there was a softness in her eyes that made me hesitate.

Her hug was different-quicker, sharper, as if she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the gesture but had decided to go through with it anyway.

And then she leaned in, her breath brushing against my ear.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

I froze, my mind racing.

Sorry?

For what?

For the teasing?

For the chaos she seemed to bring wherever she went?

For something else entirely?

Before I could even process the word, she pulled back, her expression unreadable.

There was no trace of the apology in her face-just the same playful smirk as before.

“Don’t get too used to it,” she said, flicking my forehead lightly with a finger before stepping past me.

Rachel gave Cecilia a curious glance as they left together, but if Cecilia clarified her words, I didn’t hear it.

The door closed behind them with a soft click, leaving me standing there in silence.

“Arthur, are you okay?” my mother called from the living room.

“Yeah,” I said, though my voice sounded distant even to me.

Cecilia’s whispered apology replayed in my mind, looping like a song stuck on repeat.

There was no explanation, no context-just that single word.

Sorry.

And for the first time in a long time, I found myself genuinely confused by her.

‘Interesting,’ Luna mused in my head, her voice thick with amusement.

‘She’s a puzzle you can’t solve yet, isn’t she?’ I didn’t respond.

I just stared at the door, feeling like I’d just been handed a riddle with no answer.

__________________________________________________________________________________ “Aria and I have been invited to the Creighton estate for a New Year’s Party,” I said over breakfast, trying to keep my tone casual as I buttered a piece of toast.

My father, reading the news on his sleek holo-pad, looked up with a smile.

“The Creighton estate?

That’s impressive.

You both should go, no question about it.” He turned to my mother, who was sipping her coffee, and added, “I’ll book the tickets.” “Thank you,” I replied, unable to keep the small smile off my face.

The thought of spending New Year’s at a place like the Creighton estate was a little intimidating, but also…

exciting.

“You’ll need something nice to wear,” my mother said, eyeing me critically.

“Aria too.

I don’t want the Nightingale family looking shabby at a gathering like that.” “I’ll make sure we’re presentable,” I promised, though I made a mental note to drag Aria shopping later.

She’d hate it, but it was necessary.

Knowing her, she’d probably try to show up in jeans.

The morning passed quietly, the invitation settled, until the doorbell rang just after lunch.

When I answered, I was met with a delivery drone, its sleek silver body hovering at eye level.

It scanned me with a brief hum, then extended a compartment from its side.

“Delivery for Arthur Nightingale,” it announced in a monotone voice.

I accepted the package, my curiosity piqued.

It was long and slim, encased in a matte black container with intricate runes etched along its surface.

‘Luna?’ I asked silently, and she hummed in my mind.

‘Open it.

I sense something…

significant.’ I brought the package inside, setting it carefully on the living room table.

My parents watched as I lifted the lid, revealing a sword unlike anything I’d ever seen.

The blade shimmered with an iridescent glow, its surface shifting subtly as if it couldn’t decide on a single color.

The hilt was elegant, wrapped in dark leather with accents of gleaming silver.

Runes spiraled up the blade, pulsing faintly with mana, and it radiated a quiet, formidable power.

It wasn’t just a weapon-it was art.

“It’s from the Headmaster,” I said, my voice a little shaky as I picked up the blade.

It was surprisingly light, the balance perfect in my hand.

My father stood, staring at the sword with wide eyes.

“Arthur…

is that an Ancient-grade artifact?” “Yes,” I said simply.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then my mother gasped.

“An Ancient-grade sword?

Those are worth more than most mansions!

How did you even…?” “She sent it as a reward for helping defeat the demon,” I explained, setting the sword back down gently.

My father ran a hand through his hair, his expression torn between disbelief and pride.

“Arthur, do you have any idea what this means?

An Ancient-grade artifact…

They’re priceless.

They don’t just give these out.” I nodded.

I understood well enough.

An artifact like this wasn’t just valuable-it was legendary.

Even nations struggled to acquire Ancient-grade weapons.

For one to end up in my hands felt surreal.

“What’s it called?” Aria asked, leaning in to get a closer look at the blade.

“Evolis,” I said, brushing my fingers over the runes.

The name resonated in the air, like the sword itself was resonating with the name.

Evolis.

A blade for all elements, meant to adapt and evolve, just like the wielder.

My parents exchanged a glance, my mother’s expression softening.

“Be careful with it,” she said gently.

“Something that powerful can draw attention.” “I will,” I promised, feeling the weight of their concern, but also their trust.

As I placed the sword back in its case, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of determination.

Evolis wasn’t just a weapon.

It was a symbol of how far I’d come-and how far I still had to go.