The Extra's Reincarnation

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you're stronger than him in every conceivable way,"

"If you'd faced him at full strength, without any interference from me or anyone else, you still would have won. I believe that completely."

Kaelen's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by Julian's sudden intensity.

"That's... generous of you to say, but—"

"It's not generosity; it's observation,"

"I've seen enough to know talent when I see it. The academy recognized it too—that's why you're here. But more importantly, you need to recognize it in yourself."

"Don't let anyone else dictate what you can or cannot do. Not Marcel, not the professors, not even Francine."

A thoughtful silence settled between them as Kaelen processed Julian's words.

The distant sounds of celebration continued beyond the curtain, but in this small space, something significant was shifting.

Finally, Kaelen's expression softened into a smile. He extended his hand toward Julian.

"Thank you for that. I think I needed to hear it." His grip was firm as Julian clasped his hand.

"I'd like it if we could be friends, Julian. Real friends, not just classmates."

Julian returned the smile, feeling an unexpected warmth at the gesture.

This wasn't part of his plan—becoming friends with the protagonist—but somehow, it felt right.

"I don't mind that at all," he replied honestly.

As their handshake ended, the curtain rustled again, and Elenore peeked in, her golden eyes bright with excitement.

"There you are, Kaelen! Professor Bourne is asking for both flag-bearers to come to the main hall for the official ceremony." She noticed Julian's improved demeanor and beamed. "You're looking better already! Will you be joining us for the celebration dinner tonight?"

Julian hesitated, his instinct to decline warring with his new commitment to friendship. Before he could answer, Kaelen spoke up.

"He'll be there. I'll make sure of it."

"Perfect!" Elenore clapped her hands together. "The dining hall is preparing a special feast for the entire team. Seven o'clock sharp!"

***

As celebrations continued in the main hall of Aethel Academy, a different scene unfolded in the shadows beneath the school.

Deep in the labyrinthine underground passages that few students knew existed, a chamber had been converted into something resembling a throne room.

Torches cast eerie, shadows across stone walls etched with ancient runes and at the center of the chamber sat an ornate chair carved from black volcanic glass, its surface absorbing rather than reflecting the torchlight.

Upon this throne sat a tall imposing figure made more menacing by the play of shadows across his sharp features.

His dark hair fell to his shoulders in an unruly mane, contrasting with the perfectly tailored black uniform that hugged his muscular frame.

Marcel Dorn trembled visibly, his head bowed so low it nearly touched the stone floor.

"I trusted you with one task," Marvin's voice cut through the silence like a blade, each word precisely measured.

"One simple task."

Marcel's shoulders tensed further, but he didn't dare raise his head. "Marvin, I—"

"Silence." The single word carried such weight that Marcel flinched as if struck. "I don't recall giving you permission to speak."

[Marvin Fawn, 2nd Year - Title: Top 5 Strongest Students In The Academy - Affiliation: ???]

Marvin rose from his throne, He circled Marcel slowly, like a wolf considering its prey.

"Do you understand what your failure has cost us?" he asked, his voice deceptively soft now.

"The Capture the Flag match was more than a mere school tradition. It was an opportunity to demonstrate our dominance, to reinforce the natural hierarchy that should exist within this academy."

He stopped directly behind Marcel, leaning down until his lips were mere inches from the kneeling student's ear.

"Instead, you've made us look weak. Made me look weak."

Marcel's breathing quickened, sweat beading on his forehead despite the chamber's chill.

"It wasn't... I couldn't have anticipated..."

Marvin's hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of Marcel's hair and yanking his head back sharply.

"You couldn't have anticipated what? Being outmatched by first-years? Is that the excuse you're offering me?"

Pain lanced through Marcel's scalp as Marvin tightened his grip.

"It was that new student—Julian Uzziel," Marcel gasped, desperate to explain.

"He's not normal. Even my familiar was terrified of him."

Marvin released Marcel's hair with a contemptuous flick, sending him sprawling forward onto the cold stone floor.

"One student. You're telling me your entire strategy was undone by a single first-year?"

"Not just him," Marcel said quickly, pushing himself back into a kneeling position.

"That swordsman too—Kaelen. His techniques were far beyond what any first-year should know."

Marvin's eyes narrowed as he returned to his obsidian throne, settling into it with predatory grace.

"Interesting. But irrelevant to the fact that you failed."

"Please, Marvin," Marcel's voice cracked slightly. "I know I disappointed you, but I can make it right. My reputation among the second-years is still intact—they respect me, follow me. I can still be useful to you, to the cause."

A cold smile spread across Marvin's face.

"Your popularity does have its uses. The students look up to you, don't they? The charismatic Marcel Dorn, beloved captain of the second-years."

"Yes, exactly," Marcel said eagerly, sensing a potential path to redemption.

"I've been cultivating those relationships carefully, just as you instructed. Building trust, identifying potential recruits."

Marvin steepled his fingers, studying Marcel with calculating eyes.

"You desire to ascend within our ranks, don't you? To stand among the elite of the resistance rather than merely serving it?"

Marcel swallowed hard, knowing his ambition was no secret to Marvin.

"I want to be where I can do the most good for our cause."

"Yet here you are, having failed at the simplest of tasks." Marvin's tone was contemplative now, almost gentle, which somehow made it more terrifying.

"I should eliminate you from our organization entirely. Make an example of you."

Marcel blanched.

"Marvin, please—"

"However," Marvin continued as if Marcel hadn't spoken, "I've invested too much time in your development to discard you over a single failure, however embarrassing."

He leaned forward, his eyes boring into Marcel's.

"Consider this mercy, Marcel. Not kindness…mercy. And it comes with conditions."

Relief washed over Marcel's face, quickly followed by determination. He bowed his head in supplication.

"Anything. Just tell me what I need to do to make this right."

Marvin's smile widened a fraction.

"Is there anything I can do to redeem myself in your eyes, Marvin?"

"There is something you can do, Marcel… something of great importance to our cause."

Marcel looked up, hope kindling in his eyes.

"Anything, Marvin. I'll do whatever it takes."

Marvin rose from his obsidian throne, descending the three shallow steps.

"For when the Day of Summoning approaches,"

"For our ritual to succeed, we need vessels—students with exceptional mana qualities. Sharpness. Potency. Reserve. The kind of power that can withstand the strain of channeling otherworldly energies."

Marcel nodded eagerly.

"I understand."

"Do you?" Marvin stopped directly before him.

"This isn't just recruitment, Marcel. These students will be sacrifices in the truest sense. Their bodies will become conduits and their souls will be fuel used for the barrier's collapse."

A flicker of unease crossed Marcel's face, but he masked it quickly. "How many do we need?"

"Thirteen," Marvin replied. "The number of completion. The number of rebirth."

Marcel considered this, mentally cataloging potential candidates among the student body. Despite the gravity of what Marvin was asking, he felt a surge of confidence. This was something he could do—something he excelled at. Identifying talent, gauging potential, winning trust—these were his strengths.

"This will be simple," Marcel said, straightening his shoulders. "I already have several prospects in mind. Students with exceptional mana profiles who feel overlooked or underappreciated by the academy's hierarchy."

Marvin's eyebrow arched slightly. "Simple? You believe gathering thirteen sacrificial lambs for ritual slaughter is simple?"

"I didn't mean—" Marcel began, but Marvin waved away his protest.

"I understand your meaning. Your social talents are not in question, despite your recent... combat shortcomings." Marvin's lips curled into a cold smile. "Just ensure they have the necessary mana qualities. The ritual cannot sustain itself otherwise."

"I'll do everything I can to help you, Marvin," Marcel vowed, relieved to have a clear path to redemption. "I won't fail you again."

"See that you don't." Marvin turned away, then paused as if remembering something. "There is one more matter to discuss."

Marcel waited, sensing that whatever came next would be equally important.

"I intend to run for Student Council President," Marvin said, his tone casual as if discussing the weather.

"Either this year or the next, depending on how certain... variables align."

Marcel's eyes widened slightly with surprise, but he quickly composed his expression.

The Student Council Presidency was the highest position of student authority at Aethel Academy—a role that would give Marvin unprecedented access to academy resources and influence over school policies.

"The Student Council..." Marcel breathed, immediately understanding the strategic value of such a position.

"That would be... perfect for our cause."

Marvin nodded, pleased by Marcel's quick comprehension.

"Indeed. The President has unrestricted access to all areas of the academy, including the restricted archives in the East Wing. They can authorize after-hours activities without faculty supervision, redirect funds as needed for 'special projects,' and—most importantly—influence which students receive certain opportunities."

"You would have the power to shape the entire academy,"

"Precisely,"

"With that position, our preparations could advance tenfold. Although The current President, Javier Aurues, is close to graduating. I'm sure he'll run as president once again which creates an opportunity we cannot afford to miss."

Marcel nodded emphatically.

"I'll do everything I can to support your campaign, Marvin. With my connections among the student body, we can secure votes from multiple factions."