The Extra's Reincarnation-Chapter 156: First Year Combat Ring

The sunset painted Kiera Devereaux's office in shades of amber and gold, casting long shadows across the polished mahogany of her desk.

She stood at the tall windows overlooking the academy grounds, her silhouette sharp against the dying light.

From this vantage point, she could see students traversing the courtyard below, their voices a distant murmur on the evening breeze.

"This semesters looking a lot more promising than ever,"

She sighed watching students practice their spells on the ground.

As the newly appointed principal she needed to be prepared for what's to come, exams, excursions, lessons, and tournaments.

A principal like herself couldn't afford to disappoint her academy in her first year.

_Knock…knock…knock…_

A soft knock at the door broke her contemplation.

"Come in," she called without turning.

The door opened with a familiar creak, and Professor Riggs Bourne stepped inside, his weathered face grave beneath his neatly trimmed silver beard.

"Have you heard the news?" he asked, closing the door behind him.

Kiera's lips curved into a subtle smile, though her eyes remained fixed on the scene below.

"About Julian Uzziel and his extraordinary display in Professor Sinclair's class today? Of course."

Riggs moved further into the room, settling into one of the high-backed chairs facing Kiera's desk.

"Hmph, even in your office you managed to find out? Sinclair reported it directly to the faculty council less than an hour ago."

"Vivienne was quite shaken," Kiera remarked, finally turning to face her colleague.

"She claimed to have seen over a dozen high-tier spirits surrounding him, including Nyctos itself."

"You don't seem surprised," Riggs observed, studying her carefully.

Kiera returned to her desk, picking up a thin file bound in blue leather.

"I'm not. Julian Uzziel has always been exceptional."

"I see…. so you've been keeping tabs on him this entire time," Riggs said.

It wasn't a question.

"How could I not?"

Kiera settled into her chair, placing the file precisely in the center of her desk.

"He's going to become the most wanted student on campus. It would be foolish of me to remain uninformed about his capabilities."

Riggs stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"What fascinates me is how he conceals his talents. His entrance exam results weren't impressive but not extraordinary, yet you allowed him to secure admission without drawing undue attention."

"Yet he solved the Zagata Theorem almost casually,"

"And now this business with the spirits."

"As so it seems, even though he appears to want to live a peaceful life," Riggs mused.

"A peaceful life?" Kiera's laugh was soft and without humor.

"At Aethel Academy? I doubt that's possible, regardless of his intentions. Not with the kind of potential he possesses."

"I agree, especially with so many exceptional students vying for recognition this year. The competition for that coveted 'spot' at the top will force even the most reluctant talents to give their all, both academically and in combat."

As the two were about to conclude their conversation, Professor Bourne had something that lingered on his mind.

It was something he needed to hear what Kiera thought of it.

Riggs leaned back in his chair, his expression growing distant.

"There's something else I've been considering lately. Have you ever heard of the Trinity Prophecy?"

Kiera's eyebrow arched with interest.

"From the Golden Age? I thought most scholars dismissed it as metaphorical rather than predictive."

"Most do," Riggs acknowledged, his fingers drumming thoughtfully against the armrest.

"But recent events have me revisiting those ancient texts. The prophecy speaks of three figures who appear within a single generation—the Deceiver, who brings the world to its end; the Hero, born of light, who liberates the world from that end; and the Catalyst, who brings them all together."

Kiera's eyes narrowed slightly.

"And you believe this generation of talent might fulfill this prophecy?"

"I'm merely noting the extraordinary confluence of talent we're witnessing," Riggs said carefully.

"In all my years teaching, I've never seen such potential concentrated in one cohort. Julian Uzziel's innate talent, Kaelen's unprecedented sword techniques, Francine's tactical prowess, Franz's limitless powers... the list goes on."

He leaned forward, his voice dropping lower.

"What if they're not just exceptional students, Kiera? What if they're pieces of something larger—something foretold centuries ago?"

Kiera rose from her desk, returning to the window where the last rays of sunlight were disappearing beyond the horizon.

"It sounds outrageous when you put it that way," she admitted, her reflection in the glass betraying a hint of fascination.

"But I cannot completely dismiss it either."

She turned back to face him.

"This generation is certainly exceptional. The idea that one of our students might be the Deceiver, another the Hero, and a third the Catalyst..." she trailed off, considering the implications.

"It would explain much about their extraordinary abilities."

"The question then becomes," Riggs said gravely, "which is which?"

Kiera stared out the window for a long moment, her reflection in the darkening glass betraying nothing of her thoughts. When she finally turned back to Riggs, her expression was carefully neutral.

"Let's save this conversation for another time," she said, her tone making it clear the subject was closed. "The Trinity Prophecy is interesting academic speculation, but we have more immediate concerns with the new semester."

Riggs chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that filled the office.

"As you wish, Principal Nyx. Though I must say, you're the only one who knows who I truly am... and what I've seen."

Kiera rolled her eyes, settling back behind her desk.

"I'm already busy enough running this academy, Ex Principal. Even if I could entertain your prophecies, I'd prefer my control to be in many places at once rather than focused on predictions."

"That line of thinking will be the death of you one day," Riggs said, rising from his chair with a slight groan.

"Trying to control everything instead of preparing for what's coming."

"If that were true, I would have died long ago," Kiera replied dryly.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have reports to review before tomorrow."

Riggs nodded, making his way to the door.

He paused with his hand on the handle, looking back at her with an unreadable expression.

Without another word, he stepped out, closing the door softly behind him.

***

[Julian's POV]

I was dreaming of something pleasant when the world suddenly became very loud and very bright.

"Julian! Get up already!"

Something heavy landed on my chest, forcing the air from my lungs.

I cracked one eye open to see Rean's face hovering inches from mine, his usually neat hair sticking up at odd angles.

"Five more minutes," I groaned, attempting to roll over and bury my face in my pillow.

"No way," Tylo's voice came from somewhere to my right.

"We've already let you sleep through breakfast. If you don't get up now, you'll miss the first-year combat ring fight."

"First-year combat ring?" I mumbled, forcing myself into a seated position as my brain slowly caught up with their words.

"That's today?"

"Yes, that's today," Tylo said, his exasperation evident as he threw my uniform at me.

"And it's already past nine. They're going to be selecting participants soon."

I groaned, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

Friday already.

The week had flown by in a blur of classes, assignments, and dodging Professor Sinclair's persistent attempts to make me her apprentice.

Today marked our first official week on Aethel's campus, and with it came one of the academy's many traditions.

The first-year combat ring.

"Why are you guys so excited anyway?" I asked, reluctantly swinging my legs over the side of the bed.

"It's not like either of you are planning to volunteer."

Rean's laugh bounced off the walls of our cramped dorm room.

"Are you kidding? It's not about participating—it's about watching! The combat ring is where you see who's actually worth something in our year."

"Plus," Tylo added, tossing me a towel, "you never know who might get called out. What if someone challenges you?"

"Why would anyone challenge me? I'm the most boring first-year in existence."

I snorted at that thought, who could possibly have some one sided beef against me anyway?

As I shuffled to the bathroom, my mind drifted to what I knew about today's event.

The first-year combat ring wasn't just another sparring class—it was a tradition that served as the initial sorting mechanism for our cohort.

Upper-year students would be watching closely, identifying potential recruits for their clubs and factions.

More importantly, I knew exactly how this day was supposed to unfold in the original storyline.

Kaelen would be challenged by Uzan Modan Jr., the half-dwarven prince whose massive frame belied his incredible speed and strength.

Their battle would be the highlight of the day—a clash that would establish both as forces to be reckoned with among the first-years.

"Hurry up!" Rean called through the bathroom door. "We want good seats!"

I quickly finished washing up and changed into my uniform leaving it slightly disheveled.

The less attention I drew to myself, the better.

-You're being awfully cautious today.

"I have to be," I muttered under my breath.

"I don't want to be picked."

In the original novel, the first-year combat ring had been pivotal in establishing the power hierarchy.

It was where alliances began to form, where rivals identified each other, where the seeds of future conflicts were planted.

And I needed to be nowhere near the center of it.