The Cursed Extra: Bloodline of Sacrifice-Chapter 150: Madman Gamble
"That's the plan for tomorrow's match," Caspian said.
The members of Team Z sat in a quiet corner of the academy grounds, going over their strategy one last time.
The atmosphere was tense but focused.
Each of them knew the importance of this match—losing wasn't an option if they wanted to advance beyond the group stage.
Vera sat at the edge of the group, nodding.
Caspian's eyes flickered toward him for a brief second before returning to the discussion.
The plan was set. All that was left was execution.
---
[POV: Vera ]
Late at night, in a dimly lit corridor, Vera stood face-to-face with a group of boys from Team Saga.
Their leader, a tall, broad-shouldered student named Xieran, crossed his arms, watching Vera with suspicion. "You said you had something important?"
Vera smirked, "I'll give you all the weaknesses of Team Z and their plan for tomorrow."
Xieran's eyes narrowed ,After a pause he said.
"Why betray your team?"
Vera sighed, shaking his head.
"Let's be real. Our team isn't strong enough to win the tournament. We barely managed a victory against Team Void. And do you really think we can take down Darian's or Oliver's team in the later stages? No chance."
He took a step closer. "But there's still a way to make it through—individually."
xieran raised a brow. "Go on."
"The top eliminators from the group stage still have a chance to advance, even if their team doesn't make it." Vera explained. "If I can rack up more eliminations, I can secure my own future. So, I want something in return."
The tension in the corridor thickened.
Xieran's expression darkened. "And what exactly do you want?"
Vera smirked. "Let me eliminate at least two of your teammates before you take the win. That way, I increase my ranking."
Xieran's jaw clenched. "And what stops you from betraying us after you get your eliminations?"
Vera shrugged. "Simple. I'm selling this information to other teams too. If I lie, someone else will expose me. My plan is to secure my own survival, not get caught in unnecessary fights."
Xieran studied him carefully. "You sound way too confident for someone switching sides."
"That's because I'm playing to win," Vera replied smoothly.
A pause.
Then Xieran let out a low chuckle. "Fine. But first, transfer 2000 points to me—insurance."
Vera scoffed. "You've got that backward. You send me 2000 points. If you don't, I'll just take this offer to another team."
Xieran's expression twisted in frustration. "You little—" He grabbed Vera's collar.
Vera didn't flinch. Instead, he calmly pushed Kieran's hands away. "Relax. You'll get the points back—after I get my eliminations. But if I don't get these 2 elimination, those 2000 points are mine"
Xieran's hands curled into fists. His teammates murmured among themselves.
Finally, after a long pause, Kieran exhaled sharply. "Fine. But if you screw us over, I'll make sure you regret it."
Vera smiled, stepping back. "Smart choice."
A smirk lingered on his face.
---
[Match Day, 5:00 PM]
The artificial battlefield stretched out before them.
"Today's match—Team Z versus Team Saga!"
On one side of the field, Team Z
On the opposite end, xieran and Team Saga stood ready.
The tension was palpable.
Then, a voice rang through the stadium.
"Are you ready?"
Caspian exhaled slowly.
"Yes."
"Then begin!"
Chaos erupted.
Caspian exploded forward.
He wasn't waiting. He wan't watching this time.
His target? The closest enemy.
A man with dual dagger barely had time to react before Caspian was on him. The sword came crashing down, a brutal strike meant to split him open—
Blocked.
A second opponent had interfered, catching the attack with a fire made spear.
Caspian's eyes narrowed. Fast.
Too fast.
They weren't hesitating. They weren't testing the waters.
They were already adapting.
He twisted his blade, forcing them back, but another attack came from the side.
A third enemy was already moving, his dagger aimed straight for Caspian's ribs.
Caspian grinned.
Perfect.
His hand shot out, grabbing the dagger mid-strike.
The assassin's eyes widened—too late.
Caspian yanked him forward and slammed his knee into his gut, sending him crashing backward.
One down.
But something was wrong.
Lyrius unleashed his gravity field.
Rafael, their strongest opponent, should've struggled. Should've slowed down.
Instead—
He adjusted.
His footwork shifted before the field fully activated. His body moved before the pressure locked in.
Caspian's jaw tightened.
How?
A battle wasn't this simple. You reacted to your opponent. You felt them out.
But Team Saga wasn't reacting.
They already knew.
Clever bastards.
He didn't waste time thinking about it.
He pushed forward, because that's what a fight was.
Not sitting back. Not waiting.
You take the first step.
Caspian barely had a moment to breathe before something unexpected happened.
Vera wasn't staying back.
He wasn't firing arrows.
He was fighting.
What the fuck was he doing?
Caspian saw him dodge into close combat, daggers flashing as he moved through the battlefield.
He wasn't just covering their team—he was engaging.
That wasn't the plan.
Caspian didn't have time to ask questions.
If Vera wanted to fight up close—fine.
Caspian wasn't here to think. He was here to win.
And winning meant making them fear you.
He turned his full focus on the axe wielder in front of him.
The man hesitated.
Caspian charged.
Got it. When Kairos awakens or when others are fighting, the POV will switch to them—Caspian won't be standing around analyzing everything.
Let's continue the fight.
...
(POV: Lyrius)
Something is wrong.
Gravity manipulation was absolute. You didn't just adjust to it instantly.
But Rafael?
He moved like he knew it was coming.
Lyrius scowled. They should've struggled more.
His pulse quickened as he adjusted his approach.
Instead of brute force, he would layer his control.
A single field wasn't enough. But multiple shifts?
Let's see them adapt to this.
He clenched his fist—
Gravity pulsed outward.
The battlefield twisted.
Rafael leaped forward to attack Caspian, but his movement staggered mid-air.
Lyrius smirked.
Got you.
Instead of one gravitational pull, he layered three.
One pressing from above. One yanking from the side. One shifting unpredictably.
Even the best fighter couldn't adapt instantly.
Rafael's landing was off-balance.
Caspian took full advantage—his sword lashed out, carving a deep gash across Rafael's side.
[Two Capsule left Rafael]
But before they could press the advantage—
The battlefield shifted again.
---
(POV: Calenthir)
Calenthir vanished.
Her portals flickered across the battlefield—quick bursts, sharp angles.
She wasn't fighting head-on. She was slicing through gaps.
A dagger appeared in her hand. She flicked her wrist—
Steel met flesh.
A clean cut across an opponent's arm, forcing him to drop his weapon.
Another portal—she was gone.
Reappeared behind another.
Blade to throat—he barely dodged.
The fight was going well. Too well.
That's when she saw it.
Vera wasn't shooting.
He was fighting up close.
Why?
---
(POV: Vera)
Vera moved through the fight like a shadow.
His daggers flashed, cutting through defenses, his air magic subtly pushing opponents off-balance.
But he wasn't aiming to kill.
He was playing his own game.
This wasn't about Team Z. This wasn't about Team Saga.
It was about him.
He would get his eliminations. He would climb the rankings.
And then?
He would choose who actually won.
For now, he fought like hell—because the best way to stay hidden was to fight like you belonged.
---
(POV: Kairos)
Kairos' hands were clenched.
His breathing was slow. Controlled.
But the moment he locked eyes with Ciroth Haines—
His heart stopped.
Why was he here?
Ciroth smirked.
"You still hesitating, Kairos?" His voice was mocking, cruel. "What's wrong? Scared you'll kill someone again?"
Kairos' grip on his sword tightened.
He couldn't look away. He couldn't move.
Not again.
....
(POV: Caspian)
The moment the match started, Caspian felt it.
Something was wrong.
Not a major flaw.
Not a disastrous mistake.
Just… something.
He couldn't put it into words.
It was like fighting a mirror. Every move his team made—Team Saga was already adjusting.
They weren't reacting like fighters who had just been hit with gravity shifts or portal traps.
They weren't caught off guard, weren't second-guessing themselves.
They were moving with confidence. Precision.
As if they knew.
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But there was no time to dwell on it—because Rafael was already attacking.
Twin blades flashed.
Caspian's sword rose to meet them.
Clang. Sparks flew as he deflected the first strike. Pivot.
A second blade came from below—Caspian twisted his wrist, catching it mid-swing.
Fast.
Too fast.
Not unnatural—Rafael wasn't moving beyond human limits. But his timing was too perfect.
Every feint, every clash—Rafael wasn't fighting blindly.
He was predicting.
Caspian's forearm burned where a blade had slipped past his defense. Not deep.
Rafael smirked. "Slower than I thought, Caspian."
He didn't reply. He didn't need to.
Words meant nothing.
Only the fight mattered.
The match had only started minutes ago, and already, Caspian was shifting gears.
The plan? Forget it.
If the enemy already knew what they were supposed to do—then stop doing it.
Caspian was never the type to cling to structure.
He thrived in the chaos.
So he broke the rhythm.
Instead of deflecting, he let Rafael's next strike get closer—too close.
Instead of backing away, he pushed forward.
A madman's gamble.
Blades scraped across his armor—pain flared—but in return, Caspian's elbow slammed into Rafael's gut.
Direct hit.
The force sent Rafael stumbling—a crack formed in his capsule.
Caspian exhaled.
That's better.
He didn't need a plan.
He just needed to win.
---
(POV: Kairos)
Kairos' breath was unsteady.
Not from exhaustion. From hesitation.
His fingers twitched, but the air around him was… slow.
He wasn't moving wrong—but he wasn't moving like he used to.
Because every time he did—
Every time the wind responded to him—
He remembered.
A scream.
A body hitting the ground.
A maid who never got back up.
His magic had killed someone.
Even if it was an accident.
Even if no one had blamed him.
Kairos blamed himself.
And that hesitation—that fear—was what made him weak.
Ciroth, the bastard from his past, grinned at him from across the battlefield.
"You still trembling, Kairos?" His voice was sharp, mocking. "Can't use that wind anymore? What a shame. You were the duchy's prodigy, weren't you?"
Kairos clenched his fists.
But he didn't move.
Because even now—
Even here—
The air around him felt like blood.
And he couldn't bring himself to wield it.
Not yet.
Not while he was still chained to the past.
