The Extra is a Genius!?
Chapter 107: Family Introductions (50GT Bonus - )

Chapter 107: Chapter 107: Family Introductions (50GT Bonus Chapter)

"Father, this is the boy I like."

Noel blinked.

’What?’

He turned to Elyra in disbelief, but she just stood there calmly, a slight smile on her face like she hadn’t just thrown him to the wolves.

Her father’s eyes narrowed, his broad figure frozen for a second. Then, he let out a sigh—half annoyed, half relieved—and pulled Elyra into a tight hug.

"It’s about time you brought someone home."

While Elyra’s face was buried against her father’s chest, unable to see anything, the man raised one thick arm behind her back and pointed two fingers at Noel... then slowly dragged them across his own neck.

Noel kept a straight face, though a small twitch betrayed him.

’Really? That’s what you open with? Not "he’s a friend," or "he helped me"? No. Just—that.’

The man finally released his daughter and stepped back, his expression shifting into a practiced calm.

"You must be tired after your journey."

"We are, father," Elyra replied sweetly. "I’ll show Noel to his room. We’ll meet you for lunch?"

"Very well," he said.

Noel followed Elyra toward the garden path, leaving the butler and her father to carry her luggage—royalty, apparently, did not believe in packing light.

The garden was enormous—larger than some of the parks Noel had seen in the capital. Carefully trimmed hedges stretched in perfect symmetry, fountains gurgled with crystal-clear water, and flower beds bloomed in waves of color. Birds chirped from the high branches above, and the air smelled faintly of lavender and mountain mist.

Noir ran ahead, weaving between marble statues and golden-barked trees, clearly enjoying herself.

"So..." Noel said after a while, hands in his coat pockets. "That’s what you went with? That was your opening line?"

Elyra didn’t even turn to look at him. "Why would I lie to my father?"

"Oh, I don’t know," he muttered. "Maybe because he made a gesture like he was going to behead me."

Elyra glanced back with a smile. "He’s always like that. Don’t take it personally."

’Yeah, easy for you to say. You’re not the one he marked for death.’

"And by the way," she added, pausing as she looked him up and down, "where’s your luggage? Don’t tell me you came all this way without a change of clothes."

"Look." Noel reached into his pocket and pulled out the small pouch Balthor had sold him. "Dimensional storage. Got it in Valon."

"Nice. That’ll come in handy."

They reached the marble steps of the main estate—an imposing structure of cream stone and stained-glass windows tall as trees. A pair of golden doors swung open as they approached.

Elyra guided him through a few quiet hallways, then stopped at a finely carved door.

"This will be your room. It’s already prepared. Get cleaned up, and be ready to repeat what you told me—but this time, to my father."

Noel sighed. "Yeah... figured that was coming."

The room Noel entered was absurd.

It was nearly as large as the training hall back at the academy. A king-sized canopy bed sat in the center, wrapped in silk curtains. The walls were lined with polished wood and bookshelves, and three closets stood ready—already stocked with formal and casual wear in various shades of blue, black, and gray.

The bathroom was bigger than his dorm room. Gold-trimmed mirrors, a sunken bathtub, magical water temperature controls, and even a row of scented oils.

Noel peeled off his travel clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the weight of the journey.

’Alright. Act normal. Don’t mess this up.’

After the shower, he pulled on one of the noble outfits from the closet: navy jacket, silver buttons, dark pants. He checked himself in the mirror once, twice... then sighed.

’Well. Let’s get this over with.’

The dining hall was a cathedral of wealth.

Sunlight poured through arched windows of blue and gold stained glass, casting soft light over a table long enough to host twenty nobles with ease. Black polished marble reflected the chandelier above, while servants moved like ghosts, placing silver trays with flawless precision.

Noel walked in with a composed expression, the tailored navy suit fitting him perfectly. His steps echoed faintly as he crossed the hall, meeting Elyra’s eyes just briefly. She was already seated, poised as always, with Noir curled beneath her chair like a silk-colored shadow.

Across from them sat the head of the house: Lord Caeron von Estermont.

Tall. Broad. His dark red formal jacket was edged with golden embroidery depicting the crest of the Estermont lineage—an eagle with wings unfurled over a mountain. His black hair was swept back with silver streaks at the temples, and his short beard was razor-clean. At his side, resting casually against the chair, was a ceremonial blade—though its edge was clearly no mere decoration.

The man stood as Noel approached.

"Welcome to Estermont," he said, his voice deep and measured. "I am Lord Caeron. I understand you are... the one who’s captured my daughter’s interest."

Noel bowed respectfully. "It’s an honor to meet you, Lord Caeron. My name is Noel Thorne."

Lord Caeron raised an eyebrow, then gestured to the seat across from him.

"Sit, Mister Thorne. Let’s eat."

They began the meal in silence. Silverware chimed softly as the first course—a fine arrangement of smoked venison with lemon-dressed greens—was served. The tension across the table was not overt, but it hung heavy. Noel could feel the weight of the Lord’s gaze every time he moved.

After a few quiet bites, Caeron finally spoke again, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

"Tell me, Mister Thorne... where did you and Elyra meet?"

Noel dabbed his mouth with a napkin, then answered with quiet confidence.

"She approached me in the academy library."

Caeron tilted his head slightly, his fingers steepled. "She approached you?"

"Yes, my Lord. I was researching alone when she sat beside me and began asking questions."

He glanced at Elyra. She met his look with a serene smile, almost proud.

Caeron remained silent for a long moment, then gave a small grunt.

"Hm. That does sound like her."

The second course arrived—roasted duck breast glazed in plum wine, accompanied by golden root vegetables.

Lord Caeron cut his meat slowly, deliberately, like a man used to controlling every detail around him.

"And what did she ask you?" he said, not looking up.

Noel kept his tone steady. "About the rumors. About who I was. She said she had a feeling I wasn’t what people said I was."

The lord stopped cutting for a second.

"Did she now?" He finally looked up, fixing Noel with those sharp, evaluating eyes. "And what are you, Mister Thorne? If not what the rumors claim?"

Noel met the gaze without blinking.

"A survivor you can say. Someone trying to make a difference. Even if quietly."

A flicker—barely visible—passed across Caeron’s expression. Approval? Doubt? Amusement? It was hard to tell.

"I see," the man said at last, returning to his meal. "You speak like someone older than you appear."

"I’ve lived more than I look," Noel said simply.

The table fell into a brief silence again. Noir shifted beneath Elyra’s chair and let out a soft huff, prompting her to reach down and gently stroke her fur.

Lord Caeron leaned back slightly. "You plan to stay long in Estermont?"

"A few days if it’s fine. Then I’ll head north to Iskandar."

"To the snow."

"Yes. There’s something I need to retrieve there."

Caeron set down his fork and leaned forward. "Be warned, boy. I don’t care if Elyra likes you. If you hurt her, even by accident..."

"Understood," Noel said firmly.

Elyra, watching them both, sighed lightly. "Father, please..."

Caeron finally leaned back again and let out a slow breath.

"Very well. For now... let’s finish this meal."

Noel picked up his glass of water, lifting it slightly.

’Alright. here goes nothing.’