Is It Wrong for an Extra to Steal the Protagonist's Harem?-Chapter 47: Moral Stain

Wednesday Morning. 06:00 Hours. The North Gate.

The morning mist still clung to the cobblestones as the freshman class gathered at the North Gate. The air was thick with tension, excitement, and the smell of cheap coffee.

Dozens of carriages were lined up, ready to transport us to the Whispering Forest.

I stood near the Group 11 designated spot, checking my inventory one last time.

[Inventory:]

Obsidian Shortsword

3x Low-Grade Healing Potions

1x Smoke Bomb

Mana Stabilizer Pills

"You’re early," Martin yawned, walking up to me. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink. "I was up all night vomiting. I think I have dungeon phobia."

"You’ll be fine, Martin," I said, adjusting my glove. "Just stand behind Emily and try not to scream."

"Heh. Easy for you to say, Mr. ’I-Kissed-A-Duke’s-Daughter’."

I smirked. The rumors had spread fast. Half the students were looking at me with awe, the other half with disgust. I loved it.

"Alex Edelhart."

A voice cut through the morning chatter. It wasn’t Martin. It was deeper, self-righteous, and annoying.

I turned around.

Standing there was Ren Montclair.

The Protagonist.

He was wearing light leather armor over his uniform, a simple iron sword strapped to his back. His messy black hair fluttered in the wind, and his eyes—those generic, justice-filled brown eyes—were glaring at me.

Behind him stood Lena Brook, his childhood friend (and secret Royal Guard). She had her hand resting on the pommel of her rapier, eyeing me like a threat.

"Can I help you, Ren?" I asked, keeping my voice bored.

Ren didn’t waste time on pleasantries. He stepped into my personal space, radiating ’Main Character’ energy.

"I saw what you did yesterday," Ren said, his voice low. "In the arena. With Ariana."

"I would hope so," I replied smoothly. "The whole school saw it. It was a televised match."

"You humiliated her," Ren accused, his fists clenching at his sides. "You used dirty tricks. You threw dirt in her eyes. And then... you forced yourself on her."

"Forced?" I raised an eyebrow. "I kissed her to stop her from blowing us both up. It was a tactical silence. Would you have preferred I let her detonate a C-Rank explosion in my face?"

"You could have disarmed her differently!" Ren snapped. "You didn’t have to... to violate her dignity like that. A gentleman doesn’t treat a lady that way."

Ah. There it was. The White Knight Syndrome.

Ren had likely been eyeing Ariana as a potential harem member. Seeing me, the "mob character," put my hands (and lips) all over her must have triggered his territorial instincts.

I scoffed.

"A gentleman?" I took a step forward, matching his intensity. "Ren, she used a Neuro-Toxin Scroll. She tried to melt my nervous system. If I hadn’t countered, I’d be a vegetable right now."

"That’s..." Ren faltered. He didn’t know about the toxin. "That doesn’t justify sexual harassment!"

"It justifies survival," I cut him off.

I leaned in, dropping my voice so only he could hear.

"But let’s be honest, Ren. You’re not mad about the dirt. You’re not mad about the explosion."

I smirked, a cruel, mocking twist of my lips.

"You’re mad because I tasted her first."

Ren’s eyes widened. His face flushed with anger.

"You bastard..."

"Admit it," I whispered. "You wanted to be the one to ’tame’ the fiery noble girl, didn’t you? You wanted to beat her in a fair duel, earn her respect, and have her blush at you. That’s your script."

I poked him in the chest.

"But I flipped the script. I broke her. I made her yield. And when I kissed her... she didn’t bite me. She froze."

"Shut up!" Ren grabbed my collar.

Clang.

Lena half-drew her sword behind him. Martin shrieked and hid behind a carriage.

I didn’t move. I looked down at Ren’s hand on my collar.

"Touching a noble heir?" I asked calmly. "That’s grounds for expulsion, Scholarship Student."

Ren froze. He glared at me, his jaw working. He wanted to punch me. I could see the ’Justice Punch’ charging up.

But he couldn’t. Not here. Not before the Expedition.

He slowly released my collar, smoothing it down with aggressive force.

"Stay away from her," Ren warned, his voice shaking with suppressed rage. "If you try anything like that in the Dungeon... if you try to take advantage of her or anyone else... I won’t hold back."

"Is that a threat?"

"It’s a promise."

Ren turned around, signaling Lena to follow.

"Come on, Lena. The air here stinks."

As he walked away, trying to look cool and heroic, I called out to his back.

"Ren!"

He paused, looking over his shoulder.

I smiled—a bright, dazzling, toxic smile.

"She tasted like strawberries, by the way."

Ren stumbled. He actually tripped over his own feet. He recovered quickly, but his ears were burning red. He didn’t look back again, storming off toward his group.

[System Notification: Rivalry Established.] [Ren Montclair (Protagonist) views you as a ’Moral Stain’.] [Ren’s Jealousy: High.] [Lust Points: +50 (For asserting dominance over the Alpha).]

"Heh."

I dusted off my collar.

"Moral high ground," I muttered to myself. "It’s easy to stand on the high ground when you haven’t had to crawl through the mud yet."

"A-Alex..." Martin peeked out from behind the carriage. "Did you just antagonize the Top Student of the Knight Department?"

"He started it," I shrugged.

****

The carriage ride to the Whispering Forest was an exercise in awkward silence.

The interior was cramped, smelling of old leather and Martin’s nervous sweat. Opposite me sat Emily Frost, the Ice Princess herself. She had her eyes closed, arms crossed, radiating an aura that dropped the cabin temperature by a solid five degrees.

Next to her sat Martin Luke, my "teammate." He was staring at Emily with puppy-dog eyes, looking like he wanted to say something but was terrified she might freeze his tongue off.

"So..." Martin squeaked, breaking the silence. "Lady Emily... do you have a plan for the formation? Since you’re the strongest, maybe you should take the rear? I can scout ahead!"

Emily opened one eye. It was like looking into a glacier.

"You?" she asked, her voice flat. "Scout?"

"Y-Yes!" Martin puffed out his chest. "I have Wind Magic! I can run fast!"

"If you run fast, you’ll die fast," Emily stated coldly. "The Whispering Forest is filled with Ambush Spiders and Root Stranglers. Speed triggers their hunting reflex."

She closed her eye again.

"Alex takes point. You take the middle. I take the rear."

Martin blinked. "Alex? But... he’s..."

He glanced at me. I was currently inspecting the sharpness of my obsidian blade, ignoring them.

"He has high sensitivity," Emily said, not elaborating.

"But Lady Emily!" Martin protested, clearly jealous that the ’trash’ was being given the leader role. "He’s an F-Rank! If we encounter a beast, he’ll be dead weight! I should lead!"

"Martin," I interjected, sheathing my sword. "Do you know what the primary diet of a Whispering Forest Goblin is?"

"Huh?" Martin looked confused. "Meat?"

"No. It’s Mana-rich moss," I corrected smoothly. "However, during mating season—which is right now—they crave protein to build nests. Specifically, soft, loud protein."

I leaned forward, grinning.

"If you run ahead shouting like an idiot, you’re not scouting. You’re catering."

Martin paled. He shut his mouth and sat back.

Emily’s lip twitched. A micro-expression. Amusement?

"We’re here," she announced.