The Extra's Rise-Chapter 392: Vryndall (6)

"Anyway, the Cardinal's zombification is impressive," Jack observed, leaning over the balcony's edge. Below, formerly ordinary citizens shambled through the streets, their humanity erased by forbidden magic.

"Of course it is," Lyra said, pride evident in her voice. "I was surprised my little brother wanted to participate in this though... do you hate Mythos Academy so much?"

"I'm not participating," Jack replied firmly. "I can't disclose my identity after all, unlike you."

"Just do the same thing I did," Lyra suggested, prompting Jack's expression to twist with dismay.

The Disaster at the Conference of Young Lords and Ladies remained infamous throughout the Northern continent. The annual gathering of prominent heirs had turned into a slaughter when the Covenant attacked, with Lyra—herself from a noble lineage—revealed as a traitor who had facilitated the massacre.

Half the attending children of the Northern continent's elite families had perished that day, leading to dramatically increased security measures across all continents, including mandatory miasma screening for nobility.

"Do you know how much trouble I got in for that?" Jack snapped, recalling the aftermath. His own association with the Order had remained hidden thanks to the Heavenly Demon's soul he possessed, but many of his allies had been discovered and executed.

"Hehe," Lyra giggled without apparent concern for the consequences of her actions.

Suddenly, she turned her head, eyes narrowing as her smile widened with predatory interest.

"He's the one who beat you, right?" she asked casually, focusing on something in the distance.

"Tie," Jack corrected sharply, though Lyra didn't acknowledge the distinction.

"Well, this big sis will go beat him up then," she announced, her voice lilting with anticipation.

"I'm leaving, Lyra," Jack said, turning away. "I can't be caught up in this."

"Of course, scaredy cat," she replied as a spear materialized in her hand. The weapon pulsed with miasma, its heartbeat-like rhythm matching her own excitement as she spun it playfully. "Go."

Jack disappeared into the shadows without further comment, leaving Lyra alone on the observation platform. Her smile widened to unnatural proportions as she surveyed the Crystalline Haven hotel in the distance, where a particular group of Mythos Academy students had gathered.

"Time to introduce myself," she whispered, gripping her spear tighter as she launched herself into the night sky.

__________________________________

Inside the Crystalline Haven's grand lobby, Lucifer Windward had taken charge of the situation with characteristic efficiency. The Class A students had naturally gravitated together when the attack began, their combat training overriding panic.

"The hotel's defensive barriers are holding for now," Lucifer reported, his emerald eyes scanning the assembled group. "But they won't last indefinitely against concentrated assault."

Cecilia stood nearby, her crimson eyes narrowed with calculation as she monitored the hotel's perimeter through a tactical display. "Two breaches detected in the eastern wing," she announced. "Security forces are responding, but they're overwhelmed."

"Where's Arthur?" Rachel asked, her normally serene expression tight with concern as she scanned the group. "And Rose?"

"They went to the botanical gardens," Seraphina replied, her silver hair immaculately styled despite the chaos. "I received a message from Rose earlier confirming their plans."

Jin Ashbluff's expression remained carefully neutral, though his posture had shifted to combat readiness. "The communications blackout suggests a Miasma Net. They won't be able to contact us."

Ren nodded in agreement, his perpetually analyzing gaze focused on the tactical displays. "Classic Covenant strategy. Isolate before overwhelming."

Ian looked up from the ancient text he'd been consulting. "The zombification process they're using isn't standard necromancy. It's corrupted—forcing conversion while the hosts remain alive."

Clara Lopez paced nervously, her hands occasionally glowing with elemental energy that betrayed her agitation. "Shouldn't we be doing something? People are dying out there!"

"We are doing something," Lucifer replied calmly. "We're consolidating our position and gathering intelligence. Rushing out blindly would only create more casualties."

His measured response reflected his training under the Windward family's military doctrine—assess, plan, then act with overwhelming force. Despite his relative youth, Lucifer carried himself with the authority of someone who had been preparing for leadership his entire life.

The hotel's emergency lighting cast everything in a pale blue glow, occasionally flickering as distant explosions tested the building's structural integrity. Through the reinforced windows, they could see the spreading chaos—fires burning unchecked in several districts, citizens fleeing or falling to the advancing revenants, and sporadic magical combat as defenders engaged the Covenant forces.

"We should establish contact with the professors," Cecilia suggested. "Their experience would be valuable in—"

Her words cut off as the grand chandelier above them exploded in a shower of crystal fragments. Everyone reacted instantly, defensive abilities activating as they scattered to avoid the falling debris.

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Where the chandelier had hung moments before, a figure now hovered—a young woman with platinum blonde hair and eyes of absolute darkness. Her black robes bore the distinctive crimson sigils of the Umbravale Covenant's inner circle, and the spear in her hand pulsed with malevolent energy.

"Well, well, well," she said, her voice disconcertingly cheerful. "The famous Class A of Mythos Academy. How disappointing to find you hiding in here while your city burns."

Lucifer stepped forward, his posture shifting subtly as he assessed the threat. Emerald energy began to coalesce around him—his signature wind element responding to his heightened alertness.

"Identify yourself," he demanded, his voice carrying the unmistakable authority of the Windward bloodline.

The woman's smile widened unnaturally. "So polite! I'm Lyra, Bishop of the Umbravale Covenant and future Pope." She spun her spear playfully, the weapon leaving trails of darkness in its wake. "And you must be Lucifer Windward, the so-called prodigy of the North."

Lucifer's eyes narrowed slightly—the only indication that her words had registered. "Bishop at your age is impressive," he acknowledged coolly. "Though your choice of allegiance is regrettable."

Without waiting for a response, Lucifer launched directly into the first movement of his Grade 6 art Myth of the Northern Peak: Winter's Ascent. The temperature in the lobby plummeted instantly as a swirling vortex of wind and ice materialized around him. The technique was beautiful in its deadly precision—condensed ice particles forming microscopic blades that rotated at impossible speeds, creating a defensive barrier and offensive capability simultaneously.

Lyra's eyes widened with genuine interest. "A Grade 6 art from someone so young with such power? The rumors weren't exaggerated, at least."

She responded with casual ease, her spear pulsing once before she thrust it forward. The space between them distorted as astral energy—the evolution beyond enhanced aura—manifested around her weapon. Unlike the enhanced aura of Integration-rankers, astral energy possessed a reality-warping quality that made it appear both solid and ethereal simultaneously.