Chapter 1: The Extra Who Should Have Died
Aren Valerius Arcanveil woke up to pain.
Not the dull ache of exhaustion, nor the fading discomfort of a bad dream—but a sharp, suffocating pressure that crushed his chest and burned his lungs with every breath he took.
I'm alive?
That was the first thought that surfaced in his mind, followed immediately by confusion.
The ceiling above him was carved from ancient stone, etched with glowing runes that flickered unstably. Cracks spread across it like spiderwebs, dust raining down with each distant explosion. The air smelled of burning mana and shattered barriers.
This was not Earth.
And it definitely wasn't a hospital.
Aren groaned and forced his body to move. His limbs responded—smoothly, powerfully. Too smoothly. His body felt young, light, and trained, completely unlike the overworked body he remembered from his previous life.
He raised his hands.
They were slender, pale, and steady, with faint calluses along the fingers and palm. A noble's hands—one trained in etiquette, magic, and the sword.
Then memory surged forward.
Not foreign memories.
Not fragments.
But recognition.
An empire upheld by seven ducal families.
A royal academy that gathered the world's greatest talents.
A chosen protagonist blessed by fate itself.
And countless nameless extras who existed only to die in the background.
Aren's heart skipped a beat.
No way…
This world.
He knew this world.
Because he had read it.
Crown of the Seven Arcanes.
A long-running fantasy novel he had finished in his previous life.
And this place—
His eyes widened slightly.
Royal Academy. West Wing.
His blood ran cold.
In the original novel, this wing collapsed during a mana resonance incident. Several unnamed students died before the protagonist arrived to save the day.
One of those deaths…
…was Aren Valerius Arcanveil.
A noble from a ducal family's minor line.
No dialogue.
No description.
Dead before the story truly began.
"So this is how it feels," Aren muttered hoarsely. "To be born just to die."
Before panic could take hold, a translucent blue screen appeared before his eyes.
[World Convergence System Initializing…]
Aren froze—not in shock, but in grim acceptance.
Of course there's a system.
But unlike the flashy, overbearing systems he had read about, this one was quiet. Minimal. Almost cold.
Name: Aren Valerius Arcanveil
Status: Canon-Deceased (Extra)
Affiliation: Ducal House Arcanveil
Plot Position: Resolved Variable
Resolved variable.
Dead.
"So the world already considers me finished," Aren said softly.
The ground shook violently. A section of the ceiling collapsed only a few meters away, stone exploding into dust and debris.
If he stayed here any longer, he would die—again.
[Critical Plot Event Detected]
Event: Academy Mana Collapse
Survival Probability: 12%
"Twelve percent?" Aren scoffed weakly. "You're generous."
But he didn't hesitate.
He remembered the novel.
The protagonist would escape through the central hall, fighting his way out dramatically.
Aren turned in the opposite direction.
Toward a narrow maintenance corridor half-buried beneath rubble—an area never mentioned, because no important character ever went there.
Perfect.
As he ran, another realization surfaced.
Mana flowed through his body—dense, responsive, obedient. At the same time, his muscles carried refined strength, trained not for brute force but precision.
Magic and sword.
Together.
In this world, that combination was taboo.
Aren slowed, eyes narrowing.
"So that's the reason," he whispered.
[Unique Authority Detected]
Skill: Dual Path Sovereignty
State: Active (Stable)
No explanation.
But he understood.
Magic normally eroded the body.
Sword cultivation dulled mana sensitivity.
Yet within him, mana strengthened muscle, and sword intent stabilized the soul.
A contradiction.
An impossibility.
Aren smiled faintly.
"I was never meant to exist, was I?"
The corridor shook violently behind him. Fire and mana surged through the academy halls as instructors finally intervened.
This was the moment Aren was supposed to die.
Instead, he stepped into the open courtyard, blending into the chaos of fleeing students.
In the distance, he saw him.
The protagonist.
Radiant. Confident. Untouched by fear.
Exactly as written.
Their eyes did not meet.
They were not meant to.
[Canon Death Avoided]
Plot Engagement Increased]
No reward.
No celebration.
Just confirmation.
Aren exhaled slowly.
He had survived.
But survival was only the beginning.
Because now, fate would have to account for something it never planned for—
An extra who refused his ending.
Aren Valerius Arcanveil clenched his fist.
"Let's see how this story handles a rival."