The Extra's Reincarnation-Chapter 130

Haah!

I gasped, my eyes flying open as I jerked upright.

"Where am I?"

The sterile white ceiling of an unfamiliar room swam into focus on me.

I still remembered the lingering images from that strange penalty.

I didn't understand what it was, but I still couldn't help but think of that betrayal.

"You're awake," a soft voice said beside me.

I turned my head, wincing at the dull throb that accompanied the movement.

Principal Kiera sat in a chair next to my bed, her crimson eyes watching me with a mixture of concern and something else I couldn't quite identify.

Guilt, perhaps?

It took me a moment to realize I was in the academy infirmary.

The antiseptic smell, the pristine sheets, the privacy curtains partially drawn around my bed—all of it screamed medical facility.

"What happened?" I asked, though I knew perfectly well.

Kiera's shoulders slumped slightly, her usual perfect posture giving way to something more human.

"I made a terrible mistake, Julian. One I deeply regret."

She leaned forward, clasping her hands together tightly.

"I was caught up in my own hatred and greed for knowledge. I saw you as a means to an end rather than as a student under my care."

Her admission surprised me. I hadn't expected such forthright remorse.

"You tried to enter my... mind?"

I framed it as a question, though I was certain of what she'd done.

"Your soul world," she corrected, her voice barely above a whisper.

"A violation I have no excuse for. My curiosity got the better of me, and I... I'm deeply sorry."

I sat up straighter, pulling the thin infirmary blanket around myself.

"Why? What were you looking for?"

Kiera sighed, a sound heavy with weariness.

"Information about how you broke Ziverard's barrier all those years ago. That knowledge is... dangerous in the wrong hands."

"How so?" I pressed, genuinely curious now.

"If any mage were to discover how to break Ziverard's barrier, it would bring the world closer to finding a group that calls themselves the World Organization,"

She explained, her eyes focused on some distant point beyond the infirmary walls.

"The World Organization?" I echoed, playing ignorant despite knowing exactly what she meant.

She nodded gravely. "There's ancient coding in those barriers. They have formulas we haven't been able to decipher for many centuries. If someone were to get their hands on any magical coding from Ziverard, it would not only give them an idea of the whereabouts of the World Organization but assist them greatly in finding traces similar to that code."

"Why is that important?"

"Because we believe someone in the World Organization possesses knowledge equivalent to Ziverard Zagata himself."

I stared at Kiera, momentarily stunned by her revelation.

"I'm truly sorry, Julian," she said softly. "I tried to access your memories without permission. And afterward..." she hesitated, her composure faltering slightly. "I even attempted to wipe your memory of our encounter. But something about you... my magic simply couldn't take hold."

She clasped her hands together tightly, knuckles whitening. "I believe you deserve to know what I did, even if it means you'll never trust me again."

I remained silent for a moment, processing everything. The World Organization. Ziverard's barrier. My apparent immunity to memory alteration.

It was a lot to take in, even for someone who already knew most of it.

"The World Organization," I finally said, keeping my voice neutral.

"What exactly are they?"

Kiera seemed relieved by my question rather than outright rejection.

"They're ancient, perhaps as old as magic itself. Few know of their existence outside academic circles and the highest levels of government."

I nodded slowly, letting her believe she was educating me.

In truth, I knew far more than she realized.

The World Organization was one of the central mysteries of the original novel—a group that had split themselves across the seven continents, each faction guarding one of the seven world relics gifted by the Tree of Grace.

These relics were powers beyond human comprehension, crafted by the God of Smithing named Odd—a being described in ancient texts as a giant dwarf twice the size of a normal giant with a flowing white beard.

Each relic contained power that could reshape continents if wielded properly, but they also had the potential in themselves to end the world if the wrong person gained possession of just a single relic.

What had always fascinated me about how these, was how under control the World Organization was able to remain hidden so effectively.

Despite being the most wanted group across all kingdoms, they operated with near-perfect secrecy.

The prevailing theory—one confirmed in the final saga of the original story—was that the relics themselves generated a protective field that prevented anyone from getting too close unless specifically invited.

Of course, I was already deep into the story before my death, but I'm very sure the leader was known as the Cursed Immortal named Jargon, a being who had witnessed the rise and fall of countless civilizations.

He had very little appearances in the novel but was basically foreshadowed to have a bigger role towards the end.

All I know is that he was on par with Saint Alonso and The strongest swordsman of this world.

Though I couldn't help but wonder if the World Organization were protecting the relics from misuse, or hoarding power for some other purpose?

Even by the story's end, this remained somewhat unclear.

Of course, I couldn't share any of this with Kiera.

"I see," I said instead. "But… how weren't you able to decipher the pieces I broke years ago though?"

Kiera's crimson eyes clouded with frustration as she leaned back in her chair.

"That's precisely the problem, Julian. When you touched that barrier, something extraordinary happened. The barrier didn't just break—it vanished completely. The coding, the magical signatures, the very essence of Ziverard's work... it all disappeared without a trace."

She rubbed her temples, a gesture that made her seem more human than the intimidating principal I'd first encountered.

"Normally, when a magical barrier is broken, fragments remain. Residual energy signatures. Traces of the original spell matrix. Something for scholars to study. But with you..." Her voice trailed off as she shook her head in disbelief.

"Nothing remained. It was as if the barrier had never existed at all."

"At first, I thought perhaps it was a fluke. A once-in-a-millennium convergence of factors that would never repeat."

"And when I attempted to enter your soul world earlier today, I encountered resistance unlike anything I've ever experienced in all my years of soul arts practice."

Soul world. The term sent a chill down my spine. I knew what it was, of course—the inner sanctuary of consciousness where a person's true self resided. A manifestation of one's personality, desires, and ideal form. Many advanced mages could create a representation of their inner selves, but few could actually enter the soul world of another.

"Your soul is extraordinarily powerful, Julian," Kiera continued.

"Most people, when subjected to soul arts, simply yield. Their defenses are minimal at best. But you..."

"...Your soul ejected me with such force that I was physically thrown backward. I've never encountered such a defensive mechanism before."

I remained silent, processing this information. I'd never actually seen my own soul world—I'd been too preoccupied with the strange vision of the past to notice my surroundings during Kiera's invasion.

I'd always assumed I didn't have a proper soul world, given my unusual circumstances as a reincarnated being. Clearly, I was wrong.

Should I tell her about the vision I'd seen? About the king and the demon and the betrayal? No, that would only raise more questions—questions I wasn't prepared to answer.

Better to play along for now, to let her believe her explanation was sufficient.

"I'm sorry, but I don't remember anything about my soul world," I said carefully.

"When you... did whatever you did, everything just went dark for me."

Visit freёnovelkiss.com for the 𝑏est n𝘰vel reading experience.

"If I didn't meet you in your soul world," she said slowly, "then who was the child I encountered there?"

I blinked, genuinely confused.

"Child? What child?"

"A young boy with white hair and blue eyes," she explained, watching me carefully.

"He appeared to be about five years old. I assumed it was a manifestation of your younger self, but..."

That's strangely odd… though I've known all my life I had white hair and blue eyes from birth but to think my soul had features of my appearance threw me off completely.

"I don't know what to tell you," I said honestly. "I have no memory of any child in my consciousness."

Kiera seemed to struggle with this information, her usual composure momentarily fracturing as she processed what I'd said.

Finally, she sighed, the sound of heavy with resignation.

I wondered if it was a fragment of my past self, but that wouldn't be it.

Perhaps it might've been a representation of my true nature that even I wasn't aware of?

"I suppose there are mysteries even I cannot unravel," she admitted. "At least, not without causing further harm."

"I would like to keep in touch with you, Julian, if you're amenable. Not for any ulterior purpose… But to make amends for my violation of policy. Perhaps I can assist you with your studies, or provide guidance when needed."

"That's not necessary," I replied, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders.

"I appreciate the gesture, but I'm fine on my own."