The Extra Who Stole the Hero's System
Chapter 25: A Promise

Chapter 25: A Promise

THIRD PERSON POV

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Evelina lay on the cold stone floor of the training hall, her body aching, her mana core utterly exhausted.

The raw scream of frustration had torn from her throat, echoing in the vast, empty space. "It’s not enough! I’m not good enough! I need to be stronger! I need to be the best! I need to do it! I need to become the first Sapphire’s Mage Knight! It needs to be me!" Her voice was hoarse, thick with tears and a profound sense of inadequacy.

Her eyes, red-rimmed and desperate, fell upon the small, dark vial of the Knight’s Trial Elixir resting on the stone ledge. It glowed with an unsettling green colour, a silent, tempting promise of power, of an edge, of the strength she so desperately craved. Kai’s warning, his insistence that she destroy it, creeped faintly in her mind. His exact words—a bad feeling, corrupted mana signature, do not consume.

But what was at stake? Her future. Her family’s legacy. Her very purpose. She knew the risks of using a high-level consumable artifact without proper mana core tempering. It could damage the mana core beyond any alchemical repairs, leaving a practitioner crippled, unable to wield mana ever again. The thought was terrifying, a fate worse than death for an aspiring Mage Knight. Yet, the Academy Entrance Exam was unforgiving. It demanded perfection, demanded strength. And she felt so utterly, hopelessly weak.

A memory, soft and old, then clear and painful, bloomed in her mind, pulling her back in time. A moment of her childhood.

She was eight years old, a whirlwind of bright blue hair and youthful energy. The sun streamed through the arched windows of Lord Sapphire’s study, illuminating the dust motes that filled the air. Her father, stern and imposing, sat behind his massive desk, a thick tome open before him. Beside her, fidgeting on a much smaller chair, was Prudee. Her blood brother. Six years old, with hair the same vibrant blue as hers, and eyes that sparkled with an irrepressible curiosity.

"...and so, during the Great War of Unification, the once-vassal states of Liberal, Eudenia, and Calvados waged a righteous rebellion against the tyrannical Tumedia Empire," Lord Sapphire said, his voice even and measured, reading from a history scroll. "It was a conflict that spanned decades, finally freeing our lands from the Tumedian yoke, and forging the Kingdom of Ostina as we know it today."

Prudee, however, was not listening to the lesson. He was a boy of action, not dusty scrolls. "Father," he interrupted, bouncing slightly in his seat, "was that when Saint Sapphire made the first battle move? The one that rallied everyone?"

Lord Sapphire paused, a faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaping him. "Indeed, Prudee. Our early patriarch, Saint Sapphire, used his brilliant strategic mind as an advisor to the Duke of Calvados. His cunning plan for the first decisive battle, a daring maneuver at the Battle of Vildrel Plains, was indeed the spark that ignited the full rebellion, rallying the other states to join the cause for freedom. It was a pivotal moment, more than three hundred years ago."

Evelina remembered how Prudee’s eyes would light up at the mention of battles and heroes. He didn’t like the family lessons, the endless scrolls of history, the complex theories of mana and magic. As the heir to the Sapphire family’s vast scholarly archives, which were essential to keeping the Kingdom of Ostina at the forefront of magical and scientific endeavor, he was expected to absorb it all. But Prudee’s heart yearned for the clang of steel, for the thrill of the fight. He wanted to be an aspiring Sword Knight, to protect, to defend, to stand on the front lines, not to be confined to dusty libraries like their father.

Every afternoon, after the lessons ended, Prudee would burst from the study, always full of suppressed energy, and rush straight to Evelina. She would always be waiting, usually in the sun-dappled gardens, a book momentarily forgotten in her lap. He would greet her with a huge, breathless hug, his small arms wrapping tightly around her.

"Evelina! I’m free!" he would shout, his eyes sparkling. "Let’s play."

Their game was always the same: Knights and Queen. Prudee would wield a sturdy, make-shift wooden sword, carved by the manor’s carpenter, its hilt worn smooth from countless battles. Evelina would play the queen, regal and serene, while the other children of fellow estate owners, invited for playdates, would grudgingly play as the enemy troops. The game always followed a familiar script: Prudee, the valiant knight, would bravely face down the hordes of ’enemies,’ his wooden sword a blur of motion, defending his queen with fierce determination.

The climax was always the same. Evelina would be on the ground, usually on her knees, pretending to be captured or in distress. Prudee, having ’defeated’ all the enemy troops, would rush to her side, his small chest heaving with exertion, his face flushed with triumph. He would stretch out his hand, his eyes shining with pure, innocent devotion.

"To my last breath, my lady," he would declare, his voice small but earnest, "I will forever protect you."

Evelina would take his hand, a wide, trusting smile on her face, and he would pull her to her feet, her knight, her best friend, her protector.

The memory partially faded, leaving Evelina back in the cold, silent training hall. The tears, which had momentarily ceased, now streamed freely down her face. Prudee. Her brave, kind brother. He had promised to protect her. He had wanted to be a Sword Knight. But he was gone.

She reached out, her hand trembling, and picked up the Knight’s Trial Elixir.

"I should have been the one to tell you that," she sobbed, her voice raw with grief and regret, her fingers tightening around the vial. "I should have been the one to protect you." Her body shook with the force of her tears, the promise of a little boy echoing in the empty hall, a promise she had never been able to return. "It should have been me."