CHAPTER 41: DEPARTURE

The morning air felt strangely sharp, as if it knew things were about to change.

Alaric stood in the courtyard of his three-story mansion, gazing at the cracked stone tiles with unreadable calm. The house was already in the process of being sold—documents sealed, contacts made, gold secured.

He didn’t need the money per se, but neither did he enjoy waste. The mansion had served its purpose, and now it would serve someone else. A quiet end to a quiet Chapter.

They weren’t leaving immediately. There were still three days left, and in those three days, Alaric had things to do.

The most important was Virellen.

She stood barefoot on the scorched, wind-blasted earth before the destroyed mountain—a desolate landmark several thousand kilometers from the mansion, near the ragged edge of what remained of the Core Forest. This place had become their training ground, sacred and scarred.

Her gauntlets gleamed faintly in the early light, earth-attributed aura crackling around her like a restless heartbeat. Her breath came in harsh, quick bursts. Blood trickled from her lip.

"Again,"

Alaric said, voice flat, divine energy already swirling behind his eyes.

She didn’t hesitate. The moment he supplied her with a fresh surge of growth authority, her body snapped forward, throwing a punch into the air with enough force to fracture the surrounding terrain. Her knuckles tore open from the shockwave alone.

BOOM.

The sound rang out like thunder trapped in bone.

Behind her, the rest of the girls watched in silence. Serineth sat with her legs crossed, shadow magic coiled lazily around her fingertips.

Cellione twirled a flame between two fingers with idle grace. Aurevia, arms folded, leaned against a shattered boulder, her icy-blue aura muted, but alert.

"She’s really going at it,"

Cellione murmured.

"She wants to catch up,"

Aurevia said quietly.

"We all do. But she’s the one under the most pressure right now."

"She’s going to break through,"

Serineth said. "I can feel it."

"She better," Cellione chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Master’s not going easy on her."

Alaric stood like a statue. Cold. Still. But not distant. He was there—fully present, feeding Virellen steady streams of divine power, his expression never changing, not even when she collapsed to her knees.

"I can’t,"

She panted, aura sputtering.

"Yes, you can,"

Alaric said simply.

"Stand."

She stood. Again. And again. Each time broken, each time repaired.

This wasn’t just training. It was war. Inside her. Around her.

Even the earth trembled from it.

He was guiding her toward her next rank with force, with patience, and with unwavering pressure. He knew the risks. He accepted them.

The skies overhead stayed gray. No sun. No wind. Just the steady crackle of aura, the raw grating of growth, and the wide, obliterated field where warriors carved themselves anew.

*****

✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢

✶ I Reincarnated as an Extra ✶

✧ in a Reverse Harem World ✧

⊱ Eternal_Void_ ⊰

✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢

*****

On the second day, Virellen broke through.

It happened quietly.

In the dead of night, Alaric stood behind her, one hand on her back, divine current channeling into her bones like liquid gold. Her aura—a deep, earthen brown—flared and then twisted into something denser, richer.

"I... I did it?"

She whispered.

"You did,"

Alaric confirmed.

Her body trembled from the aftermath. But her eyes... they were lit with awe.

"I didn’t think I could grow this fast,"

She murmured.

"Authority of Growth,"

Alaric said softly.

"It accelerates potential, not effort."

She looked over her shoulder at him, the hint of a grin on her lips.

"Still feels like cheating."

He didn’t answer. Just gave a faint nod.

On the third night, they left.

There was no fanfare. No crowds. No final farewell.

The mansion—three stories tall, with a courtyard now stripped of all but the bare essentials—stood quiet, looming like an old guardian watching its wards depart.

The deal had been finalized. It no longer belonged to them.

Only silence remained.

They moved through the night like shadows. Magic lights dimmed.

Aurevia adjusted her sword across her back, eyes scanning the path ahead.

"Feels weird,"

She whispered.

Cellione nodded.

"Like we’re leaving behind a part of ourselves."

"Good,"

Serineth said.

"That means we grew."

Virellen, now ranked three, flexed her gauntlets, a grin stretching across her face.

"I’m ready. Whatever the capital throws at us—I’m ready."

They arrived at the cliff’s edge, the place where they last saw the golden serpent dragon.

Lysaurel.

She waited, coiled in stillness, golden scales reflecting starlight. Her head dipped the moment Alaric appeared.

"You’re not coming with us,"

He said.

"I will carry my duty faithfully, Master,"

She replied. Her voice echoed with grace, but also with solemnity.

"This land needs a guardian. And I... I have no wish to fly beyond what is mine to protect."

"You may roam if you wish,"

Alaric said.

"Just return when you feel the pull. It will take time before I return."

Lysaurel gave a slow blink, a gesture of understanding.

"Then I will wait until the sky calls me back to your side."

The wind picked up.

One by one, the girls stepped forward, offering small nods or whispered goodbyes. Cellione even touched the dragon’s warm scale.

"Stay safe, lizard,"

She said, smirking.

"I am a dragon, not a lizard,"

Lysaurel responded dryly.

"Close enough."

Then they departed.

No one in the city knew they’d left.

Not a soul saw them take flight—divine energy cloaking them as Alaric led the way, the girls close behind, quiet as ghosts.

The stars above blinked in silence.

The capital awaited.

And with it, a thousand new threads yet to be woven.

-To Be Continued