Extra To Protagonist-Chapter 48: Loss

When Merlin woke, the first thing he noticed was the faint sound of something sizzling in the kitchen.

His eyes flickered open, unfocused for a moment as he stared at the ceiling. Soft light filtered through the curtains, casting shifting patterns against the walls. His body ached—not from exhaustion, but from something more insidious. A tension that never truly faded, an awareness that never dulled.

He exhaled, pressing a hand against his face.

'So he's still here.'

Merlin sighed and rolled out of bed, methodically moving through his morning routine. His uniform was neatly pressed, the Star Power Academy emblem stitched cleanly onto the chest of his navy blazer. He adjusted his collar, smoothing out any imperfections before stepping into the common area.

The scent of something… edible? drifted toward him.

Nathan stood by the stove, sleeves rolled up, humming to himself as he flipped something in a pan. He moved with casual ease, like he belonged there. Like he had any right to make himself at home.

Merlin watched for a moment before speaking.

"…What are you doing?"

Nathan glanced over his shoulder with an easy grin. "Making breakfast. Obviously."

Merlin's gaze flickered toward the stove, then back to Nathan. "Since when can you cook?"

Nathan scoffed, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. "Excuse you, I'm not completely useless." He gestured toward the plates on the counter. "I kept it simple so I wouldn't burn your kitchen down—eggs and toast. Even you can't complain about that."

Merlin didn't respond, but he did grab a plate.

Nathan slid into the seat across from him, already digging in. "Victoria left early. Told me to remind you not to be late."

Merlin took a bite of toast. "I wasn't planning to be."

Nathan smirked. "Yeah, yeah. Perfect student and all."

Merlin ignored him.

Breakfast passed without much conversation—Nathan occasionally filling the silence with half-hearted complaints about morning classes, Merlin answering in single-word responses. It was familiar. Unchanging.

By the time they finished, Nathan stretched with a satisfied sigh. "Alright, ready to go?"

Merlin grabbed his bag. "We'll take a taxi."

Nathan raised a brow. "What, too lazy to take the train?"

Merlin didn't acknowledge the comment, already heading toward the door.

"Oi, wait for me!" Nathan scrambled after him.

—

The taxi ride was uneventful. The city blurred past the window, towering skyscrapers and digital billboards flickering with advertisements. The morning rush had already begun, the streets filled with pedestrians and vehicles moving in their orchestrated chaos.

Nathan leaned back, watching the city roll by. "Man, I always forget how big this place is."

Merlin didn't look at him.

"You live here."

"Yeah, but I don't pay attention to it," Nathan shot back. He tilted his head, expression turning vaguely thoughtful. "You ever think about how much Lunar it takes to keep a city like this running?"

Merlin didn't answer. He had thought about it before, but the mechanics of the economy weren't his concern.

His focus was elsewhere.

The academy. The people within it. The story he had been thrown into.

The system's error last night still lingered in the back of his mind, an unresolved thread that tugged at him. But for now, it could wait.

The taxi pulled up to Star Power Academy, and they stepped out, passing through the academy gates into the familiar energy of the campus.

Students milled about in small groups, some engaged in idle conversation, others already practicing their magic in the designated training areas.

Nathan stretched, adjusting his bag. "Alright, time to survive another day."

Merlin didn't respond. He just walked forward.

—

The academy corridors were as busy as ever, filled with students chatting, hurrying to class, or showing off their affinities in controlled bursts of magic.

Nathan walked beside Merlin with an easy stride. "Applied Combat Magic first thing in the morning? Rough start."

Merlin didn't bother answering.

Applied Combat Magic was one of the most important courses at the Academy—one of the few that actually mattered. It wasn't about theory. It was about survival. Real combat, real applications.

The training hall was already filled with students when they arrived. The facility itself was state-of-the-art—polished floors embedded with magical circuits, reinforced walls designed to withstand high-impact spells, and an array of automated training dummies standing by.

Among the gathered students, familiar faces stood out.

Seraphina, standing with her usual composed air, arms crossed as she observed the others. Dorian, leaning against the far wall, crimson eyes half-lidded in disinterest. Elara, standing apart, silver hair falling perfectly into place.

At the front of the room, Vivienne waited, her ever-present warm smile in place.

"Alright, settle down!" she called, clapping her hands together. "I know it's early, but that just means we get to wake up with some sparring."

A few students groaned. Nathan included.

Vivienne ignored them. "Before we start, let's go over the basics again. Combat magic isn't just about power—it's about efficiency, control, and timing. If you can't land a hit or defend yourself, it doesn't matter how strong you are."

Her gaze swept the room before settling on Merlin. "We'll start with basic mana reinforcement drills. Merlin, demonstrate."

Merlin didn't hesitate.

He raised his arm, and silver-blue mana flared to life around him, coating his limbs in a seamless layer of reinforcement. Smooth. Controlled. No excess, no flickering.

Vivienne's eyes glinted with approval. "Good. Nathan, you too."

Nathan grinned, stepping forward as his own bright azure mana wrapped around him.

Vivienne turned back to the rest of the class. "See? It's not impossible. I expect you all to reach at least this level by the end of the session."

As the students partnered up, Vivienne turned back to Merlin. "You'll be sparring with me today."

Silence settled over the room. A few students exchanged glances.

Nathan blinked. "Wait, what?"

Seraphina raised an eyebrow. Even Dorian looked vaguely interested.

Vivienne tilted her head, smiling. "It's been a while since I've seen you fight seriously. I want to assess your progress firsthand."

There was no real reason to refuse.

Merlin simply nodded.

Vivienne's smile widened. "Good. Everyone else, continue your drills. Merlin, center stage."

Nathan gave Merlin a look that said good luck, but Merlin ignored him, stepping forward.

Vivienne loosened her stance, rolling her shoulders. "No affinities. Just reinforcement. Understood?"

Merlin nodded.

Vivienne smiled.

"Begin."

She vanished.

'Fast.'

Merlin barely shifted to the side before her fist grazed past him, the air bending around her strike.

She was already moving again. Relentless.

A kick—he blocked, but the impact rattled through his bones. He countered instantly, striking for her ribs, but she tilted—just slightly—enough to slip past it.

Merlin adjusted. Analyzing, adapting.

But so was she.

Her next attack slipped through his guard—her palm striking his ribs in a precise, controlled hit.

Merlin exhaled sharply but didn't stagger.

Vivienne tilted her head. "Not bad. But you're still too rigid."

Merlin didn't respond. He had already moved.

A sharp twist, a feint, then—contact.

His strike landed, but Vivienne absorbed the impact effortlessly, countering before he could press the advantage.

The exchange continued, a brutal back-and-forth of reinforced blows—each one precise, refined, and lethal in intent.

Then—

Vivienne stepped in. Too close.

Merlin's eyes widened as her reinforced palm stopped just inches from his throat.

Vivienne grinned. "Checkmate."

The training hall was silent.

Then, she stepped back, nodding. "You've improved. But you're still predictable."

Merlin exhaled, lowering his stance.

"Alright," Vivienne said, turning to the rest of the class. "Next pair."

Merlin barely heard her.

He was already replaying the fight in his head. Analyzing the entire fight in his mind.

The murmurs in the training hall grew louder as the tension slowly faded.

Students whispered among themselves, casting sideways glances at Merlin. Some looked impressed. Others… pitying.

Merlin clenched his jaw, ignoring them.

His body ached. His breath came unevenly. But that wasn't what bothered him.

Updated from freewёbnoνel.com.

It was the simple, irrefutable fact—he lost.

Vivienne watched him carefully, arms crossed. "You don't fight like someone used to losing," she mused.

Merlin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, forcing himself to meet her gaze. "I didn't lose in a while."

Vivienne smirked. "Well, you just did."

A few chuckles rippled through the watching students.

Merlin's fingers curled at his sides. He wasn't used to this. He wasn't used to failing.

Nathan stepped up, hands in his pockets. "Damn, man. She wiped the floor with you."

Merlin shot him a look. "I noticed."

Nathan grinned. "I mean, I knew she was gonna win, but I thought you'd last a little longer."

Merlin exhaled sharply. His mind was still running through the fight—where he misstepped, where he hesitated.

He hated how easily she read him.

He hated how slow he felt.

He hated that she barely tried.

Vivienne studied him for a moment longer, then shook her head. "You're talented. No question about that."

Merlin frowned. "But?"

"But," she continued, "you're too rigid. Too controlled."

He frowned deeper. "That's a flaw?"

Vivienne smirked. "It is when you rely on calculation over instinct. You're always trying to predict your opponent, to break them down into patterns."

Merlin didn't deny it. That was how he fought.

"And it works," he said.

Vivienne lifted a brow. "Does it?"

Merlin inhaled slowly. He knew the answer.

If he had been fighting anyone else, maybe.