The Extra's Rise-Chapter 395: Vryndall (9)
One moment I was facing certain death, Lyra's spear descending toward my heart—the next, I stood in a vast field of yellow carnations stretching toward the horizon, swaying gently under a warm breeze. The transition was seamless, the battlefield vanishing without warning or transition.
The sensory detail was overwhelming. Not the half-formed impressions of a dream or vision, but perfect replication of reality. I could feel the earth yielding slightly beneath my feet, smell the sweet perfume of thousands of blooms, hear the rustle of petals brushing against each other in the wind. Sunlight warmed my skin with the precise intensity of mid-afternoon.
Crouching, I brushed my fingers over a nearby flower, feeling the soft petals between my fingertips. The texture was exquisite—each minute ridge and velvet surface rendered with impossible precision. I placed my palm against the bark of a solitary tree, finding it properly rough and irregular, exactly as real bark should feel.
'Is this... a mindscape?' I wondered, turning slowly to survey my surroundings. This level of detail and sensory perfection required power beyond anything I'd encountered. Only a Radiant-ranker or higher—or perhaps something else entirely—could create such a perfect replication of reality within consciousness.
"Finally, we meet," a voice echoed, now distinct and coming from just behind me. No longer formless laughter, but articulated words carrying deliberate meaning.
I turned slowly, feeling a strange anticipation build within me—as if some part of me had been waiting for this moment since I first awakened in this world.
Standing among the carnations was a young man my age, with my height, my build, wearing casual clothing that somehow seemed both modern and timeless. His features were mine, yet subtly different—more refined, more assured, belonging to this world in a way I never truly had.
Shock rolled through me in waves, my body trembling as if every cell rebelled against what my eyes were seeing. It was impossible, yet undeniable.
"Nice to meet you, transmigrator," he said, azure eyes—so similar to mine yet infinitely deeper—locking onto my gaze with serene confidence.
It was Arthur Nightingale—the original Arthur, the one whose life I had stepped into, whose body I now inhabited. Not dead, not gone, but somehow preserved or existing in this impossible space between thought and reality.
'How?' The question ricocheted through my mind, crystallizing countless late-night wonderings into a single moment of confrontation. I had entertained every possibility—that I was in a loop of some kind, that I was Arthur with altered memories, that I had somehow merged with him upon arrival. But facing him now, separate and distinct, I knew the truth.
I had truly transmigrated, replaced another soul in its rightful vessel. And now that displaced soul stood before me, seemingly untroubled by my usurpation of its existence.
"What... what am I?" The words escaped before I could control them, barely audible even in this silent realm.
He shook his head, a faint, wry smile touching his lips—my lips, yet expressive in ways I'd never seen in mirrors. "Too early for that," he said, his voice resonating with quiet authority. "You're too weak to understand. But I can help you, since your current self isn't capable of touching even Resonance."
In a single fluid motion that defied perception, he closed the distance between us, moving not as a human moves but as thought itself—instantaneous, without transition. His hand rose with graceful precision, fingers pressing gently against my forehead.
The touch was both cool and warm, physical yet somehow more than physical—a connection that transcended the limitations of flesh.
"Leave it to me, transmigrator," he murmured, his voice quiet but firm, carrying a weight that enveloped my consciousness like an ocean drawing in a single drop of water.
Darkness swept over me, absolute and consuming. Not the darkness of unconsciousness or sleep, but something more profound—a void of perfect emptiness that somehow contained infinite potential.
And then, silence.
____________________________________
The moment Original Arthur took control, the atmosphere in the ruined hotel lobby shifted. His eyes snapped open, now blazing with an azure light that had never been seen in them before. The wounds that had wracked his body moments ago seemed inconsequential as he rose to his feet with fluid grace.
Lyra paused mid-strike, her spear hovering inches from where his heart should have been. Something had changed—the prey had transformed in an instant. Her head tilted slightly, curiosity replacing the boredom that had dominated her expression.
"What's this?" she asked, taking an instinctive step backward. "A second wind? Or something more interesting?"
Arthur smiled, but it wasn't the smile his classmates recognized. This expression carried absolute confidence bordering on arrogance—the look of someone who knew precisely what they were capable of and found their opponent wanting.
New novel 𝓬hapters are published on freёwebnoѵel.com.
"Bishop Lyra," he said, his voice carrying a newfound resonance that filled the shattered lobby. "Self-proclaimed future Pope of the Umbravale Covenant." He chuckled, the sound echoing strangely. "How unfortunate for you to find yourself on the wrong side of history."
The fallen Class A students watched in bewildered silence. Something had fundamentally changed about their classmate—his posture, his voice, the very way he occupied space seemed different. Even Lucifer, despite his injuries, sensed the transformation and forced himself to focus through blood-clouded vision.
Lyra's expression darkened slightly. "Bold words from someone who was dying moments ago." She spun her spear, astral energy swirling around its tip. "Let's see if they're your last."
She launched forward with blinding speed, her spear a blur of lethal intent. The attack that had overwhelmed Lucifer's perfect technique now targeted Arthur's seemingly unprotected form.
What happened next defied explanation.
Arthur moved with impossible precision, his body flowing around the strike as if he'd known exactly where it would be. Not dodging—that would imply reaction—but simply occupying the space the attack wasn't. Evolvis, still clutched in his hand, began to emit a soft, pulsing light that matched the rhythm of his heartbeat.
"You're quite skilled," he commented casually, as if they were sparring in a practice hall rather than fighting to the death. "But you rely too heavily on your astral energy advantage. Crude, but effective against those who don't understand its nature."
His words carried no taunt, just clinical assessment. He raised Evolvis, the blade now humming with energy that seemed different from his usual techniques. The enhanced aura surrounding it wasn't just stronger—it was qualitatively different, more defined, more coherent.
"Let me show you what this body is truly capable of," Arthur said.
With perfect fluidity, he stepped forward and executed a strike that seemed deceptively simple. No flashy movements, no shouted techniques, just pure swordplay distilled to its essence. The blade moved with such perfect intent that it seemed to draw a line of inevitability through space.
Lyra's eyes widened as she brought her spear up to block. The collision sent shockwaves throughout the ruined lobby, but unlike previous exchanges, she was the one driven backward. Her boots skidded across marble as she fought to maintain balance, genuine shock registering on her face for the first time.
"Impossible," she whispered, looking at Arthur with new intensity. "You're at Integration-rank. How—"
"Sword Resonance," Rose breathed from her position beside the injured students, recognizing what was happening before anyone else. "He's achieved Resonance."
Indeed, Evolvis now hummed with perfect harmony, the blade no longer just a tool but a true extension of Arthur's will and intent. The Aspect wall that had frustrated him for so long had been shattered in an instant, the seemingly insurmountable barrier between technique and transcendence overcome through Original Arthur's intervention.
Instead of the wildly fluctuating enhanced aura that characterized his previous attempts, every mote of energy now moved with purpose, creating a synchronized whole that amplified power exponentially rather than incrementally.
Lyra recovered quickly, her surprise giving way to genuine combat focus. "Interesting," she admitted, her childish affect dropping as she adjusted her stance. "Very interesting indeed."
She launched into her Grade 6 spear art, astral energy warping reality around her weapon as she executed a series of thrusts so fast they seemed to happen simultaneously. The attack had overwhelmed all eight Class A students working in perfect coordination—a display of power befitting an Ascendant-ranker.
Arthur met it with serene confidence, Evolvis moving in patterns that seemed to anticipate each strike before it materialized. Where the transmigrated Arthur had struggled against overwhelming force, Original Arthur flowed through the battle with natural ease, maximizing the body's capabilities in ways its current inhabitant had never discovered.
"You're fighting as if you expect me to react," he observed, calmly redirecting a thrust that would have pierced his heart. "But Resonance isn't about reaction—it's about unity of purpose between wielder and weapon."
To demonstrate, he executed a counter that carried both Purelight and Deepdark simultaneously—not struggling to balance the opposing forces as before, but harmonizing them through perfect Resonance. The energies no longer fought each other but complemented, creating an effect that sliced through Lyra's astral defense like a hot knife through butter.
Blood spattered across the marble floor as the attack caught her across the shoulder, the first significant injury she had sustained. Her eyes widened, more in fascination than pain.
"A mere Integration-ranker..." she murmured, reassessing her opponent entirely.
The battle escalated as Lyra abandoned all pretense of toying with her prey. Her Spear Heart pulsed with increased intensity, astral energy distorting space around them as she committed fully to the fight. The casual sadism that had characterized her earlier attacks was replaced by methodical lethality.
Yet for each escalation in her technique, Arthur had an answer. He moved through her attacks with preternatural awareness, Evolvis responding to his intent before conscious thought could form. More than once, Lucifer caught himself holding his breath as Arthur executed maneuvers that should have been impossible for anyone below Ascendant-rank.
The lobby began to disintegrate around them, the remaining support structures crumbling under the pressure of their exchange. Rose created a protective barrier around the injured students, her Paradox Gift straining to its limits as she reversed the most immediate structural collapses.
"How?" Cecilia managed to ask through bloodied lips, watching as Arthur countered techniques that had effortlessly overwhelmed their combined efforts. "How is he doing this?"
No one had an answer. Even Lucifer, whose God's Eyes allowed him to perceive details others missed, could only shake his head in bewilderment.
The battle reached its climax when Arthur executed a perfect thrust that bypassed Lyra's defense entirely, Evolvis glowing with harmonized energy as it aimed directly for her heart. For the first time, genuine fear flashed across her features as she realized she couldn't dodge or block in time.
"Enough!" a thunderous voice commanded as a wall of pure miasma materialized between them, absorbing Arthur's strike at the last possible moment.
A tall figure stepped through a rift in space—a man in ornate robes bearing the highest sigils of the Umbravale Covenant. Unlike Lyra's youthful appearance, he carried the weight of centuries in his gaunt features and eyes of absolute darkness.
"Cardinal Moros," Lyra acknowledged, relief briefly visible before she mastered her expression.
The Cardinal didn't spare her a glance, his attention fixed entirely on Arthur. "Interesting," he murmured, his voice carrying unnatural harmonics. "Very interesting indeed."
Arthur lowered Evolvis, the Resonance still humming through the blade but his posture shifting to cautious assessment. Even with his newfound mastery, he recognized the difference in their power. The Cardinal existed in a realm beyond even Lyra's capabilities—an Immortal-ranker.
