The Extra is a Genius!?-Chapter 186: Lightning and Ice

The training room still buzzed faintly from the last spell cast. Noel wiped the sweat from his brow, his breathing steady but sharp. Daemar stood nearby, arms crossed as always, though his eyes gleamed with something between approval and calculation.

"You’ve gotten the basics down," Daemar said. "Time for the next step."

Noel straightened. "What is it this time?"

Daemar raised his hand, gathering mana quickly. A thin bolt of lightning burst outward and struck a nearby dummy—then suddenly arced sideways, splitting into three new flashes that hit additional targets. The air sizzled with static.

"Chain Flash," he said calmly. "You hit one, and the current jumps to others within range. Up to three additional targets if you time the release right."

Noel’s eyebrows lifted. "So it’s a crowd control spell."

"Exactly. But it requires perfect timing. If you don’t release it on contact, the chain dies. And if your mana balance is uneven, the arc won’t split correctly."

Noel cracked his knuckles. "Let me try."

He extended his hand and gathered lightning mana. It was faster now—he had improved. The familiar surge filled his veins, wild and sharp, but he didn’t fight it. He guided it forward, shaped it into a single bolt, and hurled it toward the first dummy.

The strike hit dead on—but no chain.

The bolt fizzled into the target and stopped.

Noel clicked his tongue. "Too soon."

Daemar’s voice echoed behind him. "No hesitation. But no rush either. Feel when it makes contact—then let go."

Noel nodded once. Tried again.

This time the spell burst from his hand, but the chain fired too early—missing the nearby targets completely.

Noel’s jaw tightened. ’Okay... last try.’

He focused deeper, feeling the mana in his chest, letting it pulse outward through his arm. The bolt formed, shivering in his grip, waiting. He launched it.

Impact.

And then—release.

The main bolt struck the center dummy and instantly branched off. Arcs of lightning shot out left and right, cracking into the surrounding targets with sharp bangs of impact.

Smoke rose. All four targets were scorched.

Noel exhaled, lowering his hand slowly. The static tingled along his arm.

Daemar gave the faintest nod. "Good."

Noel smirked. "That’s more like it."

Two weeks had passed since the day Noel mastered Chain Flash.

In that time, he hadn’t slowed down. If anything, he’d grown sharper—more precise with every spell. Others in the class had improved, but Noel was clearly accelerating faster than anyone expected.

Except Selene.

She was the other constant.

While others struggled to stabilize their mana or refine control, Selene von Iskandar moved like someone born into magic. Focused. Unflinching. Cold, but not arrogant. She said little, but made every cast count.

And today, Daemar had decided it was time.

He stood before the assembled class in the arena, the sky above muted by the high enchantments that sealed the space. Students lined the edges in a wide circle, whispering to one another.

Two names carried weight here.

"Noel Thorne. Selene von Iskandar," Daemar called out, voice firm and absolute. "Step forward."

The murmurs died instantly.

Noel approached from the left, clad in reinforced training leathers, Revenant Fang strapped to his back, electricity still crackling faintly around his fingers. Selene stepped in from the opposite end—hair short, dark blue under the artificial light, her cyan eyes calm. She held a long wand sculpted from ice-blue crystal: the same one she had claimed after defeating the wyvern. Her posture was perfect. Effortless.

Both stopped in front of him without a word.

"You’ve been chosen because you’re the best in this class. The difference between you might be smaller than you think," Daemar said. "That’s what this match is for."

He pulled two thin bands from his pocket—silver bracelets inscribed with defensive glyphs.

"These are impact wards. If either of you takes a hit strong enough to be considered decisive, the bracelet will activate and block the strike. That person will be considered defeated."

Noel took his without hesitation and strapped it to his wrist. Selene did the same, not taking her eyes off him.

"No ’lethal’ force," Daemar continued. "But you may use anything else—fire, ice, lightning, gravity, weapons, traps. Just don’t disappoint me."

He stepped back.

Noel and Selene faced each other in the center of the arena.

Neither bowed. Neither smiled.

Just a nod.

Mutual recognition.

Across the field, students watched in total silence. They knew exactly what was about to happen.

The moment Daemar gave the signal, Noel moved.

"Fire Arc!"

A blade of flame carved through the air, scorching a path toward Selene. Even before it landed, he followed with his left hand.

"Voltage Needle!"

A thin bolt of lightning shot ahead, straight and precise. A double-layered assault—pressure and speed.

Selene’s wand rose like a reflex.

"Frost Wall."

A crystalline barrier of ice erupted before her, thick and transparent. The Fire Arc struck first, melting a line through the top layer. The Voltage Needle slammed in a breath later—but twisted off target at the last moment.

Noel narrowed his eyes. ’That wasn’t a miscast.’

Selene flicked her wrist again.

"Gravitational Hold."

The air around her warped. A wave of force pressed outward, heavy and disorienting. It didn’t slam into Noel—it dragged him down, skewing his momentum and pulling on his limbs like invisible weights.

His boots hit the floor harder than expected. The spell wasn’t just pressure—it was control.

He powered through it.

"Ignition Surge!"

Revenant Fang ignited along the blade, heat pulsing outward. Fire wrapped the steel in flickering orange tongues as Noel charged forward, resisting the gravitational pull.

Selene didn’t flinch.

She stepped sideways—light-footed, then whispered again:

"Ice Spike."

Three sharp spires burst from the floor at an angle, aiming for Noel’s flank. He twisted mid-run, ducking the first and slashing through the second. The third grazed his leg, tearing a shallow line in the leather of his pants.

He grimaced but didn’t stop. The fire in his blade roared as he swung in a wide arc.

Selene muttered fast, low.

"Gravity Pulse."

A shockwave of dense force rippled out from her, knocking Noel slightly off balance. His swing went wide, carving fire through the air but missing its mark.

She spun her wand overhead.

"Ice Dagger."

A shard of blue energy shaped into a spear shot forward. Noel barely raised his sword in time to block it—crack—the impact sent a shock through his wrist.

He skidded back and narrowed his stance.

Selene landed a few meters away, eyes locked on him, breathing calm.

Noel inhaled deeply, then smiled. frёeωebɳovel.com

’She’s better than I expected.’

"Chain Flash."

Lightning roared from his hand. It struck a summoned ice wall—but on impact, the current branched.

One arc snapped toward Selene’s left. Another toward her right.

Selene answered instantly.

"Frost Step."

A burst of mist exploded beneath her boots and she slid backward along a trail of ice, avoiding both arcs by a hair’s width.

She stopped, wand pointed down.

Noel dashed sideways, fire and lightning circling around his body like restless wolves.

The duel had truly begun.

The ground beneath her feet was slick with frost. Thin trails of ice followed each movement she made—precise, calculated, efficient.

Across the field, Noel was in constant motion. He didn’t pause. He didn’t overthink. His body and spells flowed together like instinct.

Selene narrowed her eyes. ’He’s unpredictable. Fast. But reckless.’

She didn’t let the thought distract her. Her wand rose again.

"Ice Spike."

A cluster of jagged spears erupted from the ground beneath him. Noel reacted quickly, jumping to avoid the first row—but she was already casting the follow-up.

"Gravitational Pull."

Mana surged, and a field of pressure snapped into existence above Noel, yanking him back down. He hit the ground harder than expected, stumbling forward just as another spike fired from the floor.

He rolled, barely dodging the hit.

From the edges of the arena, she could hear students gasp. She ignored them. All that mattered was the rhythm. Control the pace. Stay ahead.

Noel retaliated with a shout.

"Flare Trap!"

She didn’t see the sigil immediately—but she had anticipated it. She stepped to the side without hesitation, letting the burst of flame erupt behind her.

She countered instantly.

"Ice Shard."

The projectile screamed toward him, but he parried it with Revenant Fang, redirecting it into the dirt.

Selene’s lips tightened.

He was using everything—fire, lightning, ice, swordplay—and it was working. But it also meant he was stretching himself thin.

She had to exploit that.

Another step forward.

"Ice Step."

Frost formed instantly beneath her, propelling her across the ground like a blur. She reached his blind spot just as he turned.

She swung her wand upward.

"Gravity Hold."

Noel’s body froze for half a second—his limbs locking under the invisible pressure. Just long enough.

"Ice Lance!"

A long spear of jagged ice formed and shot toward his chest.

Noel twisted, forcing a partial dodge. The spear grazed his side and shattered, pushing him back.

He grimaced, but didn’t fall.

’Still standing,’ she thought. ’Of course he is.’

The burn of fire flared up around his sword again.

She slid backward, spacing herself.

Both of them were sweating now. Breathing harder. Their spells were sharper, faster—but neither could land a clean, decisive blow.

And yet, Selene could feel it.

Noel wasn’t just testing her.

He was trying to overcome her.

And that meant she couldn’t hold back.

The arena floor was scarred with burns and frost, cracked by pressure spells and shallow craters. Around the edge, the students watched in tense silence—no one cheering, no one speaking. Eyes wide. Breaths held.

Daemar stood with arms crossed, eyes locked on the two figures in the center.

Noel’s stance was lower now. He gripped Revenant Fang tightly, flames licking along the edge of the blade. Sparks of lightning flickered at his fingertips. Blood stained his sleeve where an ice shard had grazed him.

Across from him, Selene held her wand upright. Her expression hadn’t changed, but her shoulders had tightened. Her breath came in short bursts. Her mana still flared strong—too strong to be her last cast.

Daemar narrowed his gaze. ’She’s preparing it.’

Noel didn’t wait.

"Dark Sun."

He raised his hand. Mana spiraled instantly, fire and pressure condensing in a black sphere. But even with his focus, the spell took time—too much.

Selene didn’t give him the chance.

Her wand glowed with a pale blue light that began to pulse—slow at first, then faster, like a heartbeat.

She whispered, cold and clear:

"Frostfall Requiem."

Daemar’s eyes widened slightly.

The air died.

In an instant, a wave of mana burst outward from Selene’s body—silent, smooth, absolute. A pulse of glacial energy expanded in every direction, visible as a ring of pure frost spinning from her like ripples on still water.

Then it struck.

A storm of white descended without warning. Wind and snow and something sharper—needles of ice so fine they were almost invisible—rushed toward Noel.

There was no time for him to move. Not even to shield.

Daemar raised his hand.

"Arcane Seal."

A dome of golden light wrapped around Noel just as the full force of Frostfall Requiem hit. The storm battered the barrier with a roar of cold fury. The temperature in the arena dropped several degrees in an instant. Students gasped and stepped back.

Inside the dome, Noel remained frozen in place, eyes wide—not from fear, but from sheer awe at the force that had nearly struck him.

Selene stood unmoving, her wand lowered, steam rising from the ground around her. Her shoulders trembled slightly.

Daemar let the silence linger a few seconds before lowering his hand.

The barrier vanished.

He took one step forward.

"Match over," he said, voice deep and final. "Winner: Selene von Iskandar."

The students erupted in applause.

Selene lowered her head slightly in acknowledgment, then turned toward Noel.

He hadn’t moved yet.

Then—he smiled.

"Yeah," he muttered. "That would’ve killed me."

Selene didn’t respond with words, but the faintest flicker of a smile touched the corner of her mouth.

Daemar approached them both, tone firm again.

"You fought like real mages today, but I think I said no lethal magic. And now," he looked at Selene with something close to respect, "I expect both of you to surpass me one day. Don’t waste this potential."

Neither of them answered.

They were too busy catching their breath.

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