The Extra's Rise-Chapter 489: Honorary Elder (1)

The day started like most others in Mount Hua: quiet skies, clean wind, and the faint scent of tea and sword oil. Deceptive peace, which in our world, was merely the breath between battles.

Then came the thunder—not from the sky, but from the ground.

Metal boots. Synchronized. Unhurried. Like they owned the mountain.

I stepped outside just in time to see them arrive: twelve imperial knights in burnished white armor, crested with golden filigree that shimmered under the late-morning sun. Their helmets gleamed like mirrors, and their weapons—unpowered, for now—rested at their sides like sleeping beasts.

At their head marched a man I recognized immediately, because you don’t forget the kind of face that comes with a body count.

Sir Darius Von Halbrecht. Commander of the Imperial Knights. High Immortal-rank. Taller than most men, broader than all, and carrying the kind of aura that made the very air around him hum like a live wire. His sword—unusual for someone from the Empire—was sheathed at his hip in a case of matte aethersteel.

Behind me, Cecilia had already joined me on the stone steps. Rose was there too, walking up with a half-eaten rice bun in one hand and a deep frown already forming.

The knights stopped a few meters away. Not a step closer.

Sir Darius removed his helmet with one gauntleted hand and tucked it beneath his arm. A fresh scar ran across his forehead—evidence of the ongoing vampire conflict that had already claimed three border cities.

"Princess Cecilia Slatemark. Lady Rose Springshaper," he said, his voice the verbal equivalent of a cold morning blade. "I come bearing the words of His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Quinn Slatemark, First of His Name."

One of the knights stepped forward, extending a small golden scroll cylinder. Darius didn’t take it. He never needed to. His words carried the weight of the Empire.

"You are hereby commanded to return to the capital city of Avalon with immediate effect. The vampire armies have broken through the Eastern defensive line. This decree is issued for your safety, and to preserve imperial continuity as the war intensifies."

Rose scoffed before I could. "Imperial continuity? You’re evacuating us like we’re fragile eggs in a war basket while the bloodsuckers tear apart the countryside."

Cecilia didn’t scoff. She stepped forward, shoulders squared.

"I am the Crown Princess of the Empire," she said coolly. "You don’t command me. My father does. And he wouldn’t send you—you—without cause."

Sir Darius’s gaze didn’t flicker. "Your father’s seal is on the decree. He sends his love. And his orders. The Vampire Monarch himself led the assault on Greenfall yesterday. The death toll..." He paused, the slightest tremor in his voice. "We cannot risk you, Your Highness."

"This is ridiculous," Rose snapped. "You think pulling us away from Arthur—away from this—is the answer? What good is continuity if there’s nothing left to return to?"

I exhaled, stepping between them just as I saw Rose’s knuckles tightening.

"Stop," I said, calm but firm. "Don’t fight this. Not here."

Cecilia’s eyes darted to mine. I saw the rebellion there—hot, sharp, and deeply personal. But I also saw the trust.

Seraphina appeared at the edge of the courtyard, her midnight-blue robes billowing slightly in the mountain breeze. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of the imperial entourage, then widened when she realized their purpose. Silver threads woven into her collar and sleeves caught the sunlight—protection against vampire influence.

"Arthur," she whispered, just loud enough for me to hear. "Is this what I think it is?"

I nodded almost imperceptibly. "Imperial evacuation. Non-negotiable."

Seraphina’s hand found mine, hidden in the folds of our robes. Her fingers were cool, but they tightened around mine with surprising strength. We’d known this day might come, but knowing and facing were entirely different creatures.

I placed my other hand on Cecilia’s shoulder.

"You’ll be back," I said, "and you’ll be stronger. But not if you fight your own people now."

Rose looked like she was going to throw the scroll case at someone, but even she hesitated when I nodded at her.

"You know I hate this," she muttered. "Those vampires are tearing through our lands, and we’re running."

"You and me both," I said. "But you know they wouldn’t come unless the threat was real."

Cecilia turned back to Sir Darius and finally spoke, this time like the princess she was born to be.

"Then we obey," she said tightly. "But know this. If anything happens to him while I’m gone—" she paused, eyes locking onto Darius’s like missiles locking a target, "—I’ll hold the Empire responsible."

He gave a shallow nod. "Understood."

The two women turned to me.

Rose walked up first, flicked her rice bun into the bushes, and threw her arms around me. "Try not to be a hero, idiot," she whispered. "Those vampires don’t play fair."

I grinned. "No promises."

Then came Cecilia. No words. Just the press of her forehead against mine, hands on my cheeks, breath shaky but eyes steady.

"I’ll come back," she said. "No matter what."

"I’ll be here," I said. "I always am."

They turned and walked toward the waiting vessel. The Imperial flagship floated just above the summit, humming with the quiet power of levitation engines capable of taking it to hypersonic speed. Its ramp extended with soft hydraulic hiss. I noticed the hull was scored with burn marks and what looked suspiciously like claw marks—evidence of recent skirmishes with airborne vampire nobles.

They didn’t look back.

And neither did Darius.

I stood there until the flagship vanished into the clouds.

The wind returned.

And just like that, the mountain was emptier.

Again.

Seraphina’s grip on my hand hadn’t loosened. If anything, it had tightened, her knuckles white with tension. I glanced at her, really looking for the first time since the imperial knights had arrived. Her face was composed, as always, but there was a shadow in her eyes that I recognized all too well.

"You’re worried about something else," I said quietly as we turned back toward the inner courtyard. "What is it?"

She hesitated, which wasn’t like her at all. Seraphina had always been direct to the point of bluntness, a trait that had gotten her into trouble with the elders more times than either of us could count.

"Uncle Li," she finally said, her voice barely audible above the rustle of pine needles beneath our feet. "He was on the Eastern Island when the vampires attacked. The evacuation alert came through, but he hasn’t reported in."

I stopped walking. Li Zenith. My master. Seraphina’s uncle.

I took her other hand in mine. "If anyone could survive, it’s him."

We walked in companionable silence toward the South Peak, where the old peach trees grew. It had always been our place—first as children stealing away from lessons, then as teenagers avoiding responsibilities, and now as adults seeking moments of peace in an increasingly chaotic world.

I climbed up first, finding our familiar perch among the gnarled branches. Seraphina followed, settling beside me with practiced ease. From here, we could see the entirety of Mount Hua, its five peaks stretching toward the heavens like fingers of a massive hand reaching for the sky. In the far distance, a column of black smoke rose where Eastbridge Town had stood just last week—another casualty in the vampire’s relentless advance.

"Do you think we’ll win this war?" she asked suddenly, her eyes fixed on the distant smoke.

I didn’t pretend to misunderstand. The vampire invasion. The fall of the Eastern territories. The mounting casualties.

"I think," I said carefully, "that victory and defeat aren’t as simple as they used to be. This isn’t like the sect wars of old. The Vampire Monarch isn’t just fighting for territory—he’s fighting to remake the world in his image."

"That’s not an answer," she chided.

"No," I admitted. "But it’s the truth. I don’t know if we’ll win. But I know we’ll fight."

Seraphina leaned her head against my shoulder, a rare display of vulnerability. "If Uncle Li didn’t make it..."

"He made it," I insisted, more forcefully than necessary. "He’s probably complaining about the quality of tea on whatever rescue vessel picked him up, and lecturing everyone about proper vampire-killing techniques."

As if summoned by my words, a cry went up from the main courtyard below. We both turned to see a junior disciple racing toward the South Peak, his face flushed with exertion.

"Your Highness! Sir Arthur!" he called, his voice carrying on the mountain air. "He’s back! Master Li has returned!"

We descended from the tree in a blur of movement, racing back toward the main gate. Sure enough, there he was—Li Zenith, the Lightning Dagon of Mount Hua, looking battered but very much alive. His right arm was in a makeshift sling, and a nasty bite wound ran from his temple to his jaw, but his eyes were clear and alert as ever.

Seraphina broke protocol completely, rushing forward to embrace her uncle with uncharacteristic abandon. "We thought—" she began, but couldn’t finish.

"It takes more than a few bloodsucking nobles to keep me from my niece," Li said gruffly, his good arm wrapping around her briefly before he gently disengaged. His eyes found mine over Seraphina’s shoulder. "Arthur."

I bowed formally. "Master. It’s good to see you returned safely."

Li snorted. "Save the formalities for the other elders. I taught you better than that."

I straightened with a smile. "You look terrible."

"What happened?" Seraphina asked, stepping back to examine his injuries more carefully. "The island—"

"Is gone," Li said, his expression darkening.

"And your injuries?" I asked, noting the way he favored his left side.

"A parting gift from one of Vampire Ancestors. Caught me as I was boarding the last vessel." He shrugged, then winced at the movement. "Nothing that won’t heal. The bite’s clean—no infection."

The sect’s healers arrived then, insisting on taking Li to the medical pavilion despite his protests. Seraphina went with them, throwing me a look over her shoulder that promised we’d continue our conversation later.

Hours later, after Li had been properly treated and fed, the three of us sat in his quarters. Seraphina poured tea with practiced movements, the ritual bringing a semblance of normalcy to an increasingly abnormal day.

"The princesses and princes have been evacuated," I informed Li, who nodded as if he’d expected nothing less.

Li set down his teacup with deliberate care.

"Arthur, you must fight for Mount Hua as an Honorary Elder."