The Extra's Rise

Chapter 47 Luminarc City

Fall break arrived like an inevitability.

No grand send-off, no emotional farewells—just the slow trickle of students filtering out of Mythos Academy, each heading to their own destinations. Some were going home, some were off to private training grounds, and some, like me, were about to step into a whole different world.

Rachel had insisted—in that effortless, noble way of hers—that she would handle all travel arrangements. I hadn't even seen the bill. Probably for the best. The cost of teleporting off Mythos Academy's private island wasn't for those who checked their bank statements.

And just like that, in less than a minute, I found myself stepping out of a warp hub in the Northern continent, an ultra-modern facility with sleek walls, automated transport routes, and travelers moving with well-practiced efficiency.

Rachel, completely unfazed by any of it, glanced at her phone and gestured for me to follow.

"Come on," she said. "We have another transfer."

I followed, wondering—not for the first time—what exactly I'd gotten myself into.

The flight to Luminarc was smooth, expensive, and fast. At least, I assumed it was expensive. When the seats reclined into full beds, when the attendants greeted Rachel by name, and when the in-flight system asked if I wanted my personal climate adjusted, I knew better than to ask.

Rachel, for her part, was perfectly at ease.

She sipped her coffee, looking out the window as if the bustling world below was just another passing detail.

"Do you travel like this often?" I asked, trying not to sound too much like a commoner staring at a palace.

She blinked, then smiled. "Only when it's necessary."

Right. Necessary.

I let it slide.

It wasn't long before Luminarc came into view.

The capital of the Creighton family.

A city of progress and power, built not just for spellcasters but by spellcasters, with tech seamlessly fused with mana, creating an environment that thrived on both science and magic. Towering structures of reinforced steel and crystal stretched toward the sky, air transit routes weaving effortlessly between skyscrapers. The entire city buzzed with movement, from automated transports on the streets below to drones zipping through the air, delivering packages, managing traffic, or scanning the city for security.

Unlike Mythos Academy's controlled environment, Luminarc was alive.

And at the heart of it all stood the Creighton estate.

The moment we stepped off the private airship, a sleek, self-driving vehicle was already waiting. Rachel barely acknowledged the driver as we were ushered inside. The car took off smoothly, navigating the immaculate streets, past corporate towers with Creighton insignias, digital holograms advertising the latest mana-tech advancements, and elite spellcaster academies that fed directly into the Creighton ranks.

"Welcome to my home," Rachel said, a small smirk playing on her lips.

The Creighton estate was not a house.

It was a city within a city.

High-tech security drones patrolled the perimeter, scanning everything that entered. The estate itself was massive—designed with both functionality and elegance in mind. Unlike the Slatemark Empire's opulent, almost theatrical grandeur, the Creighton estate radiated efficiency.

A fortress of steel, glass, and reinforced alloys, built for re

She started leading the way again, but now I was very aware of where we were headed.

Alastor Creighton.

Archmage. Master of circle magic. One of the strongest individuals on the continent.

I swallowed.

"Where exactly are we meeting him?"

Rachel gestured upward.

I followed her gaze and saw, just barely visible above the trees, a spire.

Not just a building.

A monument.

A tower that scraped the sky, its structure reinforced with cutting-edge magic-tech.

"His observatory," Rachel said simply. "Come on, I'll take you."

As we approached, the sheer scale of the tower became clear. It wasn't just tall, it was a research hub, a place where theories were tested, magic-tech was developed, and the future of spellcasting was written.

Rachel took the lead, guiding me up a high-speed elevator that shot toward the top.

At last, we reached the final platform, stepping onto a wide balcony that overlooked the entire estate.

And waiting for us, standing with an air of absolute control, was Alastor Creighton.

Tall. Silver-haired. Eyes that burned with restrained power, as if he could see through everything with a single glance.

When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of experience, authority, and something deeper—raw intellect.

"Rachel," he said, his gaze settling on me. "It seems you've brought me someone very interesting."