The Extra is a Genius!?
Chapter 200: The Hidden Twin

Chapter 200: Chapter 200: The Hidden Twin

The ink glowed faintly as it settled into the page, the words forming like breath on cold glass.

We traveled the world together...

Noel leaned back in the chair, fingers still resting on the edge of the parchment. His emerald eyes narrowed slightly.

’Why is everything more complicated than it needs to be...’

He exhaled slowly. The flame orb above him flickered with his breath.

’The history everyone knows is wrong... He wasn’t alone like Charlotte just read to me a few moments ago. He had someone with him—and I learn that from the very first damn line.’

He ran a hand through his hair and leaned forward again, eyes scanning the freshly formed sentence with growing tension. His fingertips hovered near the paper, as if touching it might make it vanish.

The page continued to write.

We helped everyone, him and I, though people only ever paid attention to him.

It never bothered me. In fact, I liked being unnoticed. My brother enjoyed the attention, and I enjoyed his happiness. After all, we only had each other in this world.

Noel blinked.

’Looks like the helping part checks out, just like the books...’

But the tone was different. Personal. Honest. Not the glorified epic passed down in polished religious texts. This was someone who had lived it—not worshipped it.

He kept reading.

He could heal the sick, bless the fields, purify poison. To the people, he was a god. A perfect, gentle god. But to me, he was my brother. My twin.

People began to worship him. Temples rose in his name. A faith was born.

He slew monsters across all the continents. Even the far islands—he reached them too.

They called him a savior. I simply called him Elarin.

Noel stared at that last sentence.

’Well... not much different from the public records on this page, I guess.’

’Only difference is... they erased this second person. This narrator. Whoever the hell he is. Just wiped him off the map and gave all the credit to Elarin.’

He leaned back again, the chair groaning faintly. The flickering flame cast shadows across his face.

And the page continued, word by word, refusing to stop.

We made a peaceful world.

The monsters that remained were manageable. The other races learned to awaken their Mana Cores.

Thanks to that, they could protect themselves without needing our help.

Life became easy. Elarin was now a god to all—a man who had earned the unwavering faith of the world.

And I was always by his side.

Noel kept reading, eyes narrowed, his breath shallow.

Even after peace came, we never stopped learning. We never stopped refining mana.

You could say we were obsessed.

We discovered that the Mana Core could be improved—not just grown stronger, but... changed. Cultivated.

Trained and nourished, like a living thing.

He gave a small nod.

’Okay... nothing strange so far. Just like what Charlotte mentioned. All of this lines up with what’s taught.’

He flipped to the next part. The flame hovering over the desk crackled slightly as the diary reacted to the mana in the air, new words pressing into the parchment like confessions.

My brother reached what we called the Mana Code—the final stage of mana.

That day, something changed in him.

He began saying strange things: "This is the truth." "I have to change this."

After that day, Elarin—changed. Nothing was like before. He stopped answering my questions. He avoided me.

We were no longer together.

He didn’t speak to me. I was at Archmage rank still stuck there, too. So I made a decision.

I would reach Mana Code on my own.

But Elarin kept changing.

He started doing and saying things that didn’t make sense.

And one day... he changed completely.

He was no longer my kind brother—the one who helped everyone and dreamed of a better world.

Noel sat frozen for a few seconds, eyes locked on the page.

’Oh come on, system, really?’

He pushed the chair back slightly, the legs scraping the floor.

’Always leaving me hanging. This is bullshit.’

He rubbed his temples.

’Alright... calm down. Let’s think this through.’

’If I put the pieces together... Elarin eventually fought the Hollow One. That must mean he fought whoever wrote this diary.’

’But I still don’t know why.’

’All I’ve got is: he reached Mana Code... and then lost his damn mind.’

’So now the question is—does reaching the final stage of mana do something to your mind? If Elarin was that strong... how did he even die?’

’Gods. So many questions. So few damn answers.’

He leaned forward again, closing the diary gently. The flame dimmed, sensing the moment.

And then—

"NOEL!!!"

A scream cut through the silence, sharp and sudden.

He stood immediately, turning toward the source of the voice.

’Looks like she found a way out. Good. Time to go. I’m not staying here any longer than I have to.’

The flame above the table flickered once, then vanished as Noel dispelled it with a gesture. He stuffed the diary back into his Dimensional Pouch and rose to his feet in one fluid motion.

"Charlotte?" he called, voice bouncing off shelves and stone. "Where are you?"

No response.

The library remained still, bathed in moonlight and long shadows. He took a few steps forward, then raised his voice.

"Charlotte!?"

Still nothing. He frowned.

’Great. She screams like she found something, and now she vanishes?’

His boots echoed softly as he moved deeper into the labyrinth of books. He passed ancient scrolls, maps of forgotten lands, magical treatises and bestiaries locked behind reinforced glass. The silence returned, almost pressing against his ears.

’Maybe she’s playing around... wouldn’t be the first time.’

Another corridor opened to his left. He turned sharply.

Then—movement.

Something leapt out from the dark.

"—!"

A pink blur. A flash of light hair and amber eyes.

"Shit—!"

Noel stumbled back, instinctively trying to balance himself, but his foot caught the edge of a rug. He fell hard on his back, the wind knocked out of him—and something soft and warm landed right on top of him with a thud.

"Ow—what the hell—?"

When his vision refocused, he saw her.

Charlotte.

Her long pink hair spilled over his chest and shoulders, a cascade of silk glowing in the moonlight. Her body was flush against his, legs tangled with his, palms pressed to his chest from the fall. Her Sancta Veil was still disabled—amber eyes wide with surprise, breath close enough to brush his skin.

Their eyes locked—emerald and gold.

Neither of them said a word.

Noel felt his heart beat once. Twice. A third time, harder than it should.

Charlotte didn’t move away.

Instead, she began to lean in, slowly, as if time had stretched to give her this one fragile moment. Her lips parted slightly. Her hands trembled—but didn’t pull back.

And then—

She kissed him.

Her lips met his in silence.

It wasn’t rushed.

It wasn’t timid.

It was gentle at first—hesitant, like the flutter of wings testing the air. The kind of kiss that asked permission with every breath.

Her lips moved softly against his, uncertain but hopeful, warm and real. The world around them—books, stone, moonlight—seemed to vanish beneath the weight of that contact.

Noel’s eyes widened at the first touch. But he didn’t pull away.

Charlotte’s hands tightened slightly over his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. She pressed closer, heart pounding fast enough for him to feel it through her. Her body trembled above his—only slightly, but enough to betray that this moment meant something to her.

Noel remained still, caught between shock and the strange warmth pooling in his stomach.

Her scent—lavender and parchment—wrapped around him. Her breath mingled with his. And her mouth, no longer hesitant, deepened the kiss with aching slowness.

For a second, he allowed himself to close his eyes. To stop thinking.

To feel.

Her lips moved with more certainty now, tilting her head slightly, guiding him along. It wasn’t perfect—she never had done this before. But it didn’t matter.

It felt... honest.

A soft sound escaped her throat. Not a moan, not a word—just breath, caught between nerves and desire.

And then, slowly, she pulled away.

Her forehead rested lightly against his, and her breath came in shallow waves. Her cheeks were flushed pink, eyes hazy but focused. Her hands remained on his chest. She was still straddling him, legs on either side, pink hair falling around them like a curtain that shut out the world.

She didn’t move right away. Didn’t smile. Just... looked at him.

And then she said, voice low and breathless:

"Looks like I won’t need eleven months after all."