The Extra's Rise-Chapter 486: Kagu Family (1)

The return to the Kagu family residence wasn’t dramatic. No trumpets. No sweeping declarations. Just the soft thrum of landing gear and the quiet creak of pressure-stabilized doors opening after hours of high-altitude silence. I stepped onto the sleek polished stone of the private landing bay, the kind that hummed slightly when you walked across it, as if annoyed to be stepped on by mortals.

I wasn’t alone. Jin Ashbluff, Ian Viserion, Aria Gu, and Ava Peng filed out behind me, all looking like they’d just been introduced to the concept of existential dread. Because, in fairness, they had. Being evacuated from the Southern Sea Sun Palace by a compact evac-plane—because the larger crafts had been prioritized for less terrifyingly competent people—does that to you. It had enough space for five, barely, and enough tension to make breathing optional.

Vampires.

They weren’t just a problem on the Eastern continent. They were the problem. Demons were worse, sure, but demons at least didn’t pretend to be civil. Vampires wore politeness like a murderer’s glove. They’d ended the Eastern continent’s Golden Age with all the grace of a guillotine wrapped in velvet. Even the Radiant Dragon couldn’t stop the fall entirely. Once, we’d stood above the other continents like a well-dressed older sibling pretending not to gloat. Now? Now we were holding on with gritted teeth and scorched earth.

At the center of it all stood the Vampire Monarch. Not just a name, a bloody full-stop in the history books. Mid Radiant-rank. A walking apocalypse. Only one man stood in his way—Martial King Magnus Draykar, a mid Radiant-rank human who’d turned dodging extinction into a daily routine. If he lost, the East wouldn’t be a warzone. It would be a warning label.

"Ren!"

My father’s voice snapped through the evening haze like a well-thrown punch. I looked up to see him striding toward me, his expression caught somewhere between relief and battle-readiness. He had the same sharp violet eyes and bone-white hair as me, though thankfully without the strange side effects of the God’s Eyes. That little genetic lottery ticket had been mine alone.

He was the second-strongest in the family, right behind the family matriarch—my aunt—who was currently throwing hands with horrors in the Southern Sea Sun Palace. Which told you everything you needed to know about our bloodline.

"Come," he said, looking over all of us, "You need rest."

That was rich coming from a man who’d once trained for forty-eight hours straight just to "feel the rhythm of the fist." Still, we nodded. No arguments. Ava and Aria moved like their souls were still waiting to catch the next flight home. Jin and Ian were in better shape, being from the Western and Southern continents respectively, but even they looked like they were chewing on the global implications.

Because this wasn’t just our problem. This was a warning flare to the whole world. Miasmic species didn’t believe in borders. They believed in chaos, and that belief was catching.

We followed behind my father, down the crystal-lit hallway. Light panels inlaid with ancient sigils glowed a faint, reassuring blue. Mana dampeners purred in the walls. The whole house smelled like lavender and lightning. Comforting. Familiar. Fragile.

"Ren?"

I turned, and there she was. My little sister. Violet-eyed and porcelain-faced, looking up at me with a mix of curiosity and worry. Her twin brother stood beside her, one hand gripping the edge of the doorframe like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be here. They were named Hee and Min—more traditional names, selected by my mother in a brief act of rebellion against our usual family habit of picking names that sounded like they came with a power rating.

"Hee, Min," my father said with a sigh, "I told you to go to your room. Where’s your mother?"

Before either of them could fabricate an answer—and they were quite good at it—I heard the hurried steps of someone who’d just realized their genetically gifted children were unsupervised near traumatized evacuees.

"Honestly—Hee, Min!" my mother gasped as she swept into the hall. She scooped them both up with the efficiency of someone who’d done this a thousand times. Her long emerald green hair trailed behind her like a cape, golden eyes glowing faintly with suppressed stress. She was beautiful. Graceful. Unshaken. A storm in the shape of a mother.

None of her features had made it into us kids. The Kagu bloodline tended to win genetic arguments by showing up early and loud, and mine had declared victory before I was even born.

"Sorry about that," she muttered to my father, cradling the twins. He simply shook his head.

"They’re fine," he said, his voice softening slightly. "They’ve been worried."

My mother’s eyes swept over me and my fellow evacuees, her gaze lingering on our disheveled appearance and the shadows under our eyes. Without a word, she shifted both twins to one arm—a feat of strength that would have been impressive if I hadn’t seen her bench-press a small car during family training—and tapped her comm unit.

"Karis, have the guest suites prepared," she instructed. "And send a med-scan team to the east wing. Priority level three."

Level three meant "They’re not actively bleeding out, but check for everything else." I almost smiled at the familiar protocol. The Kagu family didn’t do anything by halves, especially not hospitality layered with medical paranoia.

My father—Kem Kagu, the Iron Fist, though he hated the epithet—gestured for us to continue following him. "You’ll all have quarters in the east wing," he explained. "Security is tighter there, and it connects directly to the underground shelters if necessary."

"Are we expecting an attack?" Ian asked, his Southern accent thickening with concern. The Viserion family controlled significant military assets in the Southern continent, and Ian had been raised to think in terms of strategic vulnerabilities.

My father’s expression didn’t change. "We’re expecting everything and assuming nothing. Standard procedure when vampires are involved."

He led us into a spacious common room, its high ceiling dotted with softly glowing orbs that adjusted their brightness based on occupants’ preferences. The walls were lined with bookshelves—real paper books, not data-screens—and comfortable seating arranged in a loose circle. At the center, a holographic display currently showed a three-dimensional map of the Eastern continent, red markers indicating areas of confirmed vampire activity.

There were far too many red markers.

"Sit," my father said, gesturing to the seating. "Eat something. Talk if you need to. But rest. All of you look like you’re about to collapse."

As if on cue, service drones glided in, bearing trays of food and drinks. Nothing elaborate—simple, nutrient-dense options designed to replenish depleted mana reserves and stabilize blood sugar. The Kagu household might look luxurious, but at its core, it was a military installation with better interior decorating.

We settled into the seats, the exhaustion finally catching up with us now that we were somewhere genuinely safe. For several minutes, no one spoke. We just ate, drank, and stared at nothing in particular, our minds still processing everything we’d witnessed.

Ava was the first to break the silence. "My family," she began, her voice wavering slightly. "Has there been any word from the Peng compound?"

My father’s expression softened fractionally. "The main compound is secure. Your mother activated the ancestral arrays as soon as the attacks began. Last report indicated minimal casualties among your immediate family."

Ava’s shoulders slumped with visible relief. The Peng family was one of the Five Great Houses of the East, with considerable resources and ancient defensive systems. If any family could weather this storm, it was theirs.

"And the Gu family?" Aria asked, her usual brash confidence subdued.

A shadow crossed my father’s face. "Fighting. The coastal estates were hit hard, but your father has rallied significant forces in the northern territories."

Aria nodded, absorbing the news with the stoicism her family was known for. The Gu were warriors first and politicians second, and they would be on the front lines until the last of them fell.

"What about Starcrest Academy?" I asked, the question that had been burning in all our minds. Our school. Our home for the past three years.

"Gone," my father said simply. "The vampires took it within hours. We don’t know why they targeted it specifically, but they wanted it intact. They’re using it as some kind of operational base now."

The news hit like a physical blow. Starcrest wasn’t just a school—it was a symbol of Eastern prosperity, of our cultural commitment to cultivating the next generation of power. Its fall meant more than just the loss of a building.

Jin, who had been silent until now, cleared his throat. "And the Southern Sea Sun Palace? What of those who stayed behind to fight?"

"The battle continues," my father replied.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Aunt Selene was the strongest member of our family, a low Radiant-ranker whose power had earned her the title "Twilight Ice Sovereign." If anyone could survive that hellscape, it was her.

"You should all get some rest now," my father said, rising to his feet. His knuckles bore the faint, silver-white scars of countless battles—badges of honor in a family that valued power above all else. "Your rooms have been prepared. Each has a secure comm unit if you need to contact family members, and the house AI will provide any assistance you require."

We stood, the movement sluggish with fatigue. As servants appeared to guide each person to their assigned quarters, my father placed a hand on my shoulder. His palm was calloused, hard from decades of transforming his body into a weapon more lethal than any blade.

"Sleep well, Ren," he said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "We’ll talk more tomorrow."