The Cursed Extra: Bloodline of Sacrifice

Caspian was kept away from functions, celebrations, and council meetings.

While his siblings basked in the glory of the Arkwright name, he remained locked away, hidden like a shameful secret.

His world was confined to his cold, dark room, where he sat day after day, nursing his wounds and his ever-growing sense of despair.

Even the servants avoided him.

They rarely spoke to him, treating him as though he were invisible.

Meals were delivered in silence, and his requests for aid or companionship were ignored.

As Ed sifted through these memories, the weight of Caspian'sexistence bore down on him.

He now understood why this body was so fragile-it wasn't just the relentless beatings.

It was years of neglect, malnutrition, and isolation that had chipped away at its strength.

The irony was not lost on Ed.

In the story he had read, the Arkwright family was portrayed as a beacon of power and dominance, their name feared and respected across the kingdom.

But behind the gilded walls of their estate, there was nothing but rot.

The realization sent a chill down his spine:

"I'm stuck in the body of the most despised member of the Arkwright family." Ed muttered.

He glanced at his reflection in the cracked mirror on the far wall.

The boy staring back at him looked so delicate, so utterly out of place in this brutal household.

His silvery-white hair and crimson red eyes were like a beacon of difference-a mark that set him apart from the rest of his family and made him a target of their hatred.

Caspian had no allies, no protectors, and no future.

Ed clenched his fists, anger bubbling in his chest.

"No wonder he ended up like this," he muttered bitterly.

But then a spark of determination flared within him.

He wasn't truly Caspian-not in spirit.

He wasn't bound by the same fears orsame fears or weaknesses that had crushed the boy's soul.

He was Ed, and Ed had knowledge of what was to come.

He knew the story's plot, its twists, and its power dynamics.

If he played his cards right, perhaps he could turn this seemingly hopeless situation into an opportunity.

But first, he would have to survive. And in this house of torment, survival was no small feat.

.

Caspian sat on the edge of his small, creaky bed, staring at the faint light filtering through the narrow window of his room.

The morning had come too soon, and his body still ached from the previous day's torment.

He could barely move without feeling the bruises his brothers has left.

"I will fuck them," Caspian muttered.

This was his life—a cycle of pain, isolation, and silent endurance.

Just as his thoughts began to spiral suddenly.

A faint flicker caught his eye, and before he could blink, a glowing blue screen materialized in front of him, suspended in the air.

___________________

•Name: Caspian Arkwright

•Race: Human

•Age: 9

•Level: 4

•Rank: E

~Elements: Fire Awakened

~Resonation: 3%- {63%}

------

{Attributes}

~Strength: 4 (F)

~Agility: 6 (E-)

~Endurance: 3 (F)

~Mana: 1 (F)

~Intelligence: 55 (C)

~Luck: 0

-----

*{Bloodline: Locked}

*{Blessing: Locked}

__________________

Caspian froze, his heart pounding in his chest.

His eyes darted over the glowing text, reading and rereading the words as if they might change under his scrutiny.

'What is this?' he thought.

Is this... some kind of system?

The concept wasn't entirely foreign to him—Ed had read enough novels and played enough games in his past life to recognize the structure.

But experiencing it firsthand was something else entirely.

"But I think there is some mistakes with number, " he muttered.

"How the hell, I am supposed to Survive when my almost every stat is E Rank." Caspian muttered while laughing on his fucked up life.

"And what fuck Luck Zero," Caspian now shouting.

Then His gaze lingered on the words "Bloodline" and "Blessing," both marked as locked.

A surge of frustration bubbled within him.

He didn't need the screen to tell him he was weak or that his bloodline and blessing were inaccessible.

He had lived with those realities every day.

But the fact that this screen had appeared at all—it was something new, something different.

A glimmer of hope stirred in his chest.

"Maybe... just maybe, this is something I can use."

Before he could delve further into the implication—

Knock-Knock

The screen flickered and vanished just as quickly as it had appeared, leaving him staring at the empty space it once occupied.

"Young Master Caspian," a voice called gently from the other side.

"Please wake up. Your fiancée is coming to visit today. You must prepare quickly."