An Unordinary Extra

"How annoying," I muttered, scowling at my phone as the notification blared across the screen. The email from Mythos Academy informed me, in no uncertain terms, that I was to keep my Rank 1 status and wasn't required to return to the Academy for mid-years.

I tossed the phone onto the desk with a sigh. "Well, I guess that settles it. No need to go back. Might as well head to the East again."

Scratching the back of my head, I scrolled through my contacts and tapped Seraphina's name. Her name always felt a little too formal on the screen, like something carved in stone. But then again, so was she—quiet and steady, unshakable as a mountain, with occasional glimpses of warmth that made the peaks all the more radiant.

"Hello, Arthur," came her voice when she picked up. Stoic, as always, but I caught the faintest tremor in her tone, like a ripple across the surface of still water.

I couldn't help but smile. "Hey, Sera," I said, leaning back in my chair. "How's it going?"

There was a slight pause on the other end. "Fine," she replied. "Are you calling about something specific?"

"Yeah," I said, cutting straight to the point. "I'm thinking of heading to the Mount Hua sect. Are you going to be there?"

"I'll be there until the twentieth," she replied, her voice as composed as ever. "After that, I'll return to Mythos Academy."

"Ah, so I might actually catch you then," I said. "No point going back to the Academy for me, anyway. They've already told me I can skip the mid-years and take the theory exams online. Something about already being Rank 1."

The silence that followed wasn't exactly awkward—it was more thoughtful, as though she was turning over my words in her mind like a rare stone.

"Congratulations," she said eventually, her tone betraying a faint hint of amusement. "I suppose it's no surprise, given your rank."

"Well," I said with a shrug, even though she couldn't see it, "I'm not exactly going to have much competition, am I? Not when I'm the only Ascendant-ranker in the class."

There was another pause, and I wondered if I'd accidentally sounded arrogant. But before I could backpedal, she spoke again.

"You'll be in the East soon, then?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said. "Looking forward to seeing you."

"I'll see you there, Arthur," she said softly before ending the call.

I set the phone down and let out a long breath. Seraphina always had that effect on me—calming and grounding, like a deep, steady heartbeat. But there was something else there, too, something fleeting and delicate, like the first bloom of spring breaking through the snow.

Whatever it was, I couldn't wait to see it again.

Unbeknownst to me, the ripple effect of my decisions was already spreading, touching lives in ways I hadn't foreseen.

"So you're leaving," Rachel said, her voice tinged with a pout that could have melted a glacier. Her arms were wrapped tightly around me, her golden hair brushing against my chin as she burrowed into my chest.

"Rach," I said gently, "I'll call you, and I'll see you soon. It's not forever."

But my words did little to soothe her. "You're leaving," she repeated, as though the sentence was some profound revelation, as though her sharp mind, capable of unraveling the intricacies of seven-circle magic, had been reduced to a single, looping thought.

I sighed, smiling despite myself, and placed a hand on her head. "You'll be fine, Rachel. In fact, you'll do something incredible while I'm gone. I know you will."

She looked up at me then, her sapphire eyes narrowing with a mixture of irritation and hurt. "Don't patronise me," she scowled, but her voice lacked its usual fire. There was vulnerability there, buried beneath her teasing charm. "Go on, then. Since you clearly don't care."

I chuckled softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "Rachel, if I didn't care, I wouldn't be making plans to call you every day. You're brilliant, you're strong, and you know I'm proud of you."

Her scowl softened, replaced by a reluctant smile. "You're insufferable," she muttered, stepping back and crossing her arms. "But I'll forgive you this time. Go save the world or whatever it is you're doing. Just don't forget to call."

"Wouldn't dream of it," I said, raising my hand in a mock salute.

Rachel rolled her eyes but smiled, her usual radiance returning.

"Go on, then, before I decide to keep you here by force."

I gave her one last nod before turning to leave, her presence lingering like the warmth of a sunbeam. As I stepped out, I couldn't shake the thought: Rachel, Cecilia, Seraphina—each of them was growing in their own way, and each was determined to stand beside me.

The thought wasn't a weight; it was a promise. One I intended to keep.

That promise carried me through the next few days of preparation, through packing and planning, through one last round of goodbyes. And then, finally, through the familiar surge of spatial displacement as I used the spatial gate to get to Mount Hua and Seraphina's insignia to get inside.

Soon enough, I found myself at the gates of Mount Hua, the grand sect rising like a crown of emerald and stone atop the rugged cliffs. The journey here had been seamless, courtesy of the insignia Seraphina had gifted me three years ago. It felt like a lifetime had passed since I last walked these paths, but the landscape remained unchanged, as timeless as the wind-carved rock itself.

The same, yet not. The world around me felt different now, sharper, clearer—etched in lines of mana I could see and almost touch. Scaling the Wall had shifted something fundamental in me. No longer did the towering presence of the Elders carry the same weight. Once, their mana rank alone would have pressed upon me like an unseen hand, forcing me to bow my head out of sheer instinct. Now? 

None of them could do that anymore. 

As I passed the Elders, I couldn't help but scan them, their auras flickering like torches in my mind's eye. Strong, yes, but not insurmountable. Not anymore. 

'None of them,' I thought, my lips curling into a small, private smile. That strange, heady sense of invulnerability lingered—though not unchecked. I wasn't fool enough to believe I could take on a peak Ascendant-ranker who had battle experience unlike Nolan in a fair fight, not yet. Not without fully mastering my abilities. But even so, the gulf between us had narrowed. That alone was intoxicating.

"Arthur."

The familiar voice broke through my thoughts, and I turned to see a figure descending the mountain path toward me. Clad in the traditional robes of the sect, he moved with a grace that belied the quiet force coiled within him. His presence was like a sword, sharp and unyielding.

Master Li.

Even now, after everything I had achieved, I felt a flicker of inferiority in his presence. The man was a legend in his own right, standing so far above me that the thought of bridging the gap felt almost laughable. Almost.

"You've grown stronger again," he said, his voice calm but carrying a faint trace of approval.

I inclined my head slightly, acknowledging his words. "Not enough to match you, Master."

He studied me for a moment, his keen eyes taking in every detail as though he could see the shifts in my mana, the subtle changes in my stance. "Strength is a measure of many things, Arthur. Do not be so quick to compare yourself to others. Your growth is your own, and it is remarkable."

Despite the humility in his tone, I could feel the vast chasm that still separated us. Even with my newfound power, Master Li remained untouchable—a mountain peak wreathed in clouds, unreachable until I climbed higher, much higher. High Ascendant-rank? Perhaps. Peak Ascendant-rank? Likely. Until then, the gap was a reminder of how far I still had to go.

"Come," Master Li said, turning on his heel. "You've come here to train, have you not? Let us see what this new strength of yours can do."

I followed without hesitation, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at my lips. Training under Master Li was no small thing—it was a trial, a crucible. But I had come to Mount Hua for exactly this. To refine, to master, to rise further still. 

And, perhaps, to take another step toward the summit.