The Extra's Reincarnation-Chapter 112 : Return

[Julian's POV]

[Hidden Quest Completed: Fulfill Princess Aziel's Innermost Desire. Reward: 1000 SP]

[The Story Has Been Adjusted…]

The glowing blue text hovered in my vision, seeming to mock me with its cheerful announcement.

"No, no, no..." I muttered, running a hand through my damp hair as I stared at the notification.

"Not again."

The system's message burned into my mind with an almost physical pain.

I'd done it again—changed something fundamental in the story's progression. Just like ten years ago with Eurus, I'd unwittingly altered the narrative once more.

"What have I done?"

In the original novel, Princess Aziel was supposed to be a distant, untouchable figure—a perfect, porcelain doll who would eventually marry Prince Modan as part of a strategic alliance.

As one of the main heroines of The Hero Who Saves The World From Ruin, she had arguably one of the most life-changing arcs throughout the novel as she didn't want to abide by the wishes of her father and ended up trying to run away once again from her marriage.

Her rebellion against the arranged marriage was supposed to be a crucial moment that would shake the foundations of the two kingdoms.

I remembered reading those chapters, how she would flee on the night before her wedding, escaping through secret passages known only to the royal family.

How she would seek sanctuary in the Temple of Eurus, where the priests would hide her out of respect for her genuine devotion to their goddess.

How Prince Modan, enraged by this perceived slight, would declare war on Elandria, accusing them of breaking their sacred covenant.

And then Kaelen… the true protagonist of this world would enter the picture.

Of course, to my memory, he did eventually stop that war with some help and save Princess Aziel.

That was how the story was supposed to unfold during the later arcs. Aziel would be the fifth and last heroine to join Kaelen's harem.

I just hope I didn't make any drastic change that would turn this world upside down.

***

[Location: Kael, Blackhearts Hideout]

The continent of Kael stretched vast and beneath the crimson glow of the first moon.

It was said among scholars that this was where the first moon rose—a seemingly harmless detail that concealed a terrible truth.

For the elders of forgotten civilizations had passed down information that Kael was not merely the birthplace of the lunar cycle, but the graveyard of the first world.

Blanchfleur, Kael's main kingdom.

In this verdant capital, every detail and structure seemed born from an impossible dream.

Towering spires and glimmering streets stretched out under the watchful glow of the first moon.

Every 1000 years a Saintess is born within Blanchfleur's walls, a vessel of divine power said to mimic the very essence of Grace, the Tree of Beginnings. This power, known as Grace's Blessing, is not merely magic; it is a force of pure, untainted light, a reflection of creation itself.

Unlike magic, which can be manipulated and replicated through study and practice, Grace's Blessing is unique to the Saintess, an innate gift that cannot be stolen or imitated.

Somewhere far out of the Blanchfleur Kingdom lays beneath a place far below the roots of the ancient trees and the forgotten ruins of civilizations that had risen and fallen before recorded history.

Within this place lay network of caverns that seemed to breathe with malevolent life.

The walls in this place were accompanied with veins of strange minerals that emitted a sickly phosphorescence, providing just enough light to navigate by, but never enough to banish the shadows that seemed to move of their own accord.

At the heart of this labyrinth, behind doors of blackened metal inscribed with runes that would drive a scholar mad should they attempt to decode them, lay the inner sanctum of the Blackhearts.

The chamber was vast, its ceiling lost in darkness despite the dozen braziers that burned with unnatural blue flame around its perimeter.

At its center stood a massive round table carved from a single slab of obsidian so dark it seemed to devour light rather than reflect it.

The surface was polished to mirror-like perfection, yet instead of showing the faces of those who gazed upon it, it revealed only mists and occasional glimpses of distant places and unknown faces.

Around this table sat six figures, each a silhouette of power and menace, each representing a position of the Blackhearts' hierarchy.

The High Commanders, as they were known, were feared throughout all seven continents, though few knew their faces and fewer still dared to speak their names.

"Kyran has not returned from Elandria, we must consider him lost."

[Malakar, 1st High Commander Of The Blackhearts]

He sat at the head of the obsidian table. His presence dominated the chamber with a cold authority that was both silent and absolute. He was the first to speak.

"The old lady spoke of his fate as if it were sealed before we even sent him."

[Vexis Vespera, 2nd High Commander Of The Blackhearts]

She leaned forward slightly, her feline grace and mocking undertone evident even in the shadows.

"The boy was destined to encounter 'the fool,'" she said, her words laced with amusement.

"Those royal bastards have strength," he admitted begrudgingly. "Ventus alone is stronger than ten captains. Kyran didn't stand a chance."

[Zoltar, 3rd High Commander Of The Blackhearts]

"You know how she is," he said with a sly grin. "Her predictions are never wrong."

[Paul, 4th High Commander Of The Blackhearts]

He shrugged with indifference. He was the smallest of the group, but possessed a cunning smile that made him just as lethal.

[Harkan, 5th High Commander Of The Blackhearts]

He tapped his fingers rhythmically on the table's surface.

"Kyran always wanted to prove himself. Pity he chose such an... ambitious target." His tone was lighthearted, almost jesting.

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[Orvant, 6th High Commander Of The Blackhearts]

He chuckled softly under his breath. His voice was smooth, with an edge that hinted at cruelty.

"He let his pride get in the way. He should have known better."

THUD!

"Kyran was just another mere twig within the branch,"

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by the Commanding General who stood at the entrance to their chamber like a specter looming over a battlefield.

[Throne, Commanding General Of All Vice Leaders]

"A new candidate will fulfill his role. A promising recruit from the Aurean Kingdom."

Step…Step…Step…

The room fell silent as a figure stepped into view under Throne's direction.

The boy couldn't have been more than sixteen years old, yet there was something unsettling about him—a scar ran along his neck like a grim necklace marking him for death or greatness.

"Make him feel welcomed," Throne ordered without room for dissent.

A shared glance among the commanders conveyed what words did not: this new member would either rise to meet their expectations or fall as Kyran had.