The Extra's Rise-Chapter 370: Winter Break (10)

Reika stood at the threshold of the guild office, her heart quickening despite her outwardly composed demeanor. Arthur sat behind the Guildmaster's desk, completely absorbed in his work alongside Kali. The soft glow of the office lighting framed him against Avalon's nightscape, highlighting the determined set of his jaw as he processed document after document.

So high. So untouchable.

She had known about Arthur Nightingale before he saved her, of course. Even in the isolated circles she had inhabited, his name had traveled—a prodigy, a rising talent, unusually resourceful for someone so young. But those stories hadn't captured the full measure of him. How could mere words convey the unwavering determination she had witnessed firsthand, or the quiet strength that seemed to radiate from him even in moments of apparent relaxation like this one?

"Elias sent me in," she said, keeping her voice level despite the warmth spreading through her chest. "He mentioned you were finally addressing guild matters and thought I might want to see you." She couldn't help emphasizing 'finally' ever so slightly.

"In other words, he thought I should get all my scoldings in one convenient evening," Arthur observed with that wry smile that always made her breath catch.

Reika allowed her smile to widen just a fraction, not trusting herself with more. "I would never presume to scold the Guildmaster."

"She wouldn't need to," Kali interjected. "I've covered all possible reprimands thoroughly."

"I'm sure you have," Reika replied, admiring Kali's straightforward manner. How simple it must be, she thought, to express irritation so openly without fear of revealing deeper emotions.

Standing before him now, Reika felt the familiar cascade of memories that his presence always triggered. She had been nothing but a failed experiment of the Red Chalice Cult—a vessel they had tried to fill with power through methods too barbaric to contemplate. She had escaped, but the trauma had fractured her memories, leaving only fragments of her former self.

She'd believed herself free until they found her again, threatening the foster family who had shown her nothing but kindness. She had been prepared to surrender herself to protect them when Arthur appeared—a boy barely sixteen, yet carrying himself with a determination that defied his age.

"You have a choice," he had told her that day, his voice unwavering even as Cult operatives closed in. "You can join Ouroboros, and I'll give you the power and resources to get your revenge. Or you can walk away, and I'll still protect you and your family. The choice is entirely yours."

No one had ever offered her choices before. She had been a subject, an experiment, a weapon—never a person with agency. In that moment, standing amid the ruins of the life she'd tried to build, something vital had shifted within her.

Then came Bishop Vale, the one who experimented on her before and was back to retrieve the Cult's "valuable asset." She had watched, stunned, as Arthur pushed himself beyond any reasonable limit, employing techniques that clearly strained his body to its breaking point, all to keep his promise to protect her.

The image was burned into her memory: Arthur standing bloodied but unbowed, his mana nearly depleted, facing an enemy who should have crushed him effortlessly. Not for glory or power or some grand cause—but because he had given his word to a girl he barely knew.

How could she not love him after that?

"Would you like to sit?" Arthur's voice pulled her from her reverie, gesturing to the chair beside him.

Reika took the offered seat, careful to maintain a respectful distance despite the longing to be closer. As Kali continued sorting through her documents, Reika gathered her courage. She had rehearsed this conversation countless times, weighing each word, anticipating his responses, preparing for rejection.

"I've been considering my position within Ouroboros," she began carefully.

Arthur's gaze sharpened with interest. "Are you unhappy with your current role?"

"No," she said quickly. "It's not that at all. I've been..." She paused, searching for the right words. "I've been reflecting on what I truly want."

Kali glanced up briefly, then tactfully focused back on her tablet, though Reika suspected she was still listening.

"When you saved me from the Cult," Reika continued, her voice steady despite her racing heart, "you offered me power for revenge. But that's not what I want anymore."

She watched Arthur's expression, searching for any hint of disappointment or confusion. Finding none, she pressed on.

"I want to be your sword, Arthur."

The words hung in the air between them. She saw surprise flicker across his features, quickly replaced by thoughtful consideration.

"My sword," he repeated, testing the phrase.

"Yes." Her voice grew more confident. "Not just a member of Ouroboros, but an extension of your will. Someone you can deploy with absolute confidence for the most sensitive operations." She leaned forward slightly, her violet eyes never leaving his. "Someone dedicated to your cause above all else."

What she couldn't say—what burned in her chest unspoken—was that being his sword was the closest she could allow herself to be to him. She wasn't worthy of more, not with her fractured past and uncertain future. But she could be useful. She could protect him, support his vision, fight his battles. It was a form of love she could offer without burdening him with expectations he couldn't—shouldn't—fulfill.

"May I ask why?" Arthur's voice was gentle, curious rather than dismissive.

Reika took a breath. "Because you saved me when you had no obligation to do so. Because you risked your life against Bishop Vale when any rational person would have retreated." She kept her tone even, professional, though her heart raced. "And because I believe in what you're trying to accomplish."

She didn't add: Because I love you in ways I have no right to express. Because serving you gives purpose to a life that was never meant to be my own. Because standing in your light is the closest thing to belonging I've ever known.

Arthur studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. She resisted the urge to look away from the intensity of his gaze, forcing herself to remain still under his scrutiny.

"Being my 'sword' would mean facing danger," he said finally. "Potentially confronting elements of the Red Chalice Cult again."

"I'm aware."

"And it's what you truly want? Not because you feel indebted, but because it aligns with your own goals?"

"Yes," she answered without hesitation. "It's what I want."

Another moment of silence stretched between them before Arthur nodded. "Then I accept your offer, Reika." His expression softened slightly. "Though I hope you understand that a good sword must occasionally question the hand that wields it. Blind loyalty isn't what Ouroboros—or I—need."

Relief washed through her, followed by quiet determination. "I understand. I won't hesitate to speak my mind when necessary."

The tension that had been building in her shoulders eased somewhat. This was enough. This had to be enough.

"Now," Arthur said, "tell me about your studies. Elias mentioned you've been excelling at the Tower of Magic."

The shift to a lighter topic allowed Reika to breathe more freely. "The instructors have been supportive, despite my... unusual background." She couldn't help the note of pride that crept into her voice. "My usage of my Gift have advanced considerably in the past few months."

It had been a grueling process—hours spent in isolation chambers, practicing her Gift. But she had persevered, driven by a determination that surprised even her.

"And the transfer application?" Arthur asked. "Any news?"

The question made her heart flutter unexpectedly. He had remembered. Of course he had remembered—Arthur Nightingale rarely forgot details—but the fact that he cared enough to ask sent a warm current through her chest.

"I've been accepted," she said, unable to completely mask her satisfaction. "Fourth-year placement at Slatemark Academy, beginning next semester."

"That's excellent news," Arthur replied, genuine pleasure in his voice. "Congratulations, Reika. You've earned it."

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"Your recommendation helped," she acknowledged.

"I merely opened a door. You walked through it on your own merit."

His praise meant more than he could possibly know. After a lifetime of being valued only for what others had done to her, being recognized for her own achievements felt like a gift beyond measure. She allowed herself a moment to savor it, storing the memory carefully alongside her other precious moments with him.

Kali glanced between them with an expression Reika couldn't quite interpret before returning to her work with renewed concentration. The Vice Guildmaster was perceptive—perhaps too perceptive for comfort.

Reika straightened slightly, remembering the other purpose of her visit. "There's something else you should know," she said, her tone shifting to something more formal. "Someone from Redmond City has arrived seeking to join Ouroboros. They specifically asked for you by name."