The Extra's Rise

I looked up at Luna's face as her golden eyes glowed faintly, healing light spilling over me. Her hands rested with a feather's gentleness against my chest and forehead.

A lap pillow.

That familiar, almost embarrassing softness brought back memories. I found myself smiling.

"Do you remember," I asked, my voice low, "when we first bonded?"

Her gaze flickered down to me. The warmth in it softened, amusement mixing with affection. "Of course."

"You gave me a lap pillow back then too," I said, grin tugging at my lips.

"Yes," she answered, lips curling upward. "And you wondered who in the world had taught a qilin about lap pillows."

"I did," I agreed immediately, chuckling.

"Well, nobody taught me," she said with a small shrug. "I just… saw it happen once. It looked comfortable, so I tried it. You were the first person I ever gave one to."

"Very bold for a first time," I said, grinning up at her.

Her golden eyes met my azure ones without wavering. That calm, radiant look—it was the same look that had steadied me countless times.

Luna was my anchor. My first ray of hope. The reason I hadn't collapsed when the weight of despair and darkness threatened to bury me whole. She was why I could even imagine standing against Lucifer, why I had clawed my way to Radiant-rank instead of rotting in despair.

And yet, when I looked at her now, I realized it was mutual.

"You've been an exceptional contractor, Nightingale," Luna whispered, closing her eyes as she patted my head, a small smile softening her refined features. "Meeting you was… my own ray of hope."

Right.

She was my hope.

I was her hope.

Both of us, bound together, fighting against the same inevitable tide. I had needed someone to give me strength to spit in the face of fate. She had needed a contractor who could break fate itself—and not suffer the end Julius had. In the end, both of us had found what we were searching for.

"I'd forgotten how it felt," I said as I shifted in her lap, settling in more comfortably. Her cheeks tinged pink.

"Well, giving you a lap pillow when I looked five years old would've been… weird," she pointed out.

I barked out a laugh. "Weird, huh? I thought to you, human intimacy was just rabbits snuggling together."

Luna's face flushed red instantly. She scratched at her cheek and averted her gaze. "That is not the case… entirely."

I blinked. My smile grew sly. My eyes narrowed.

"Pervert qilin."

Her face went scarlet. "Shut up and reach mid Radiant-rank already!" she snapped, pushing my face away with her palm.

"Wait—don't—" I began, but too late.

I shifted slightly, one hand brushing her bare shoulder. At the same time, Valeria stirred from dormancy inside my body. A sharp surge of strength pulsed through me, uncontrolled.

There was a blur of motion, a startled yelp—

And suddenly, Luna was sprawled on top of me.

'Fuck,' I thought, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. 'Valeria.'

'Apologies, Master,' Valeria's cool voice echoed telepathically. 'I reactivated earlier than expected and… accidentally boosted your strength.'

I blinked. Then blinked again.

Luna's weight pressed against me, her hair falling like a curtain of amethyst around my face. My brain stalled.

'What kind of romance-fantasy situation is this?' I thought flatly, staring at her.

Her face was close. Very close.

"Arthur," Luna said, voice caught between fluster and warning. "Don't pull me in."

"I won't," I said quickly, my arm instinctively circling her waist. "I'm just holding you."

I grinned up at her despite myself. "Why? Were you planning to do something with a man who has five fiancées? The same fiancées you once told not to worry about?"

Her ethereal face turned redder than I'd ever seen it, as red as a tomato. Apparently, being a thousand-year-old qilin didn't make you immune to teasing.

Before she could snap back, a cough echoed through the cavern.

"Ahem. Would the two of you like to get a room, or shall we resume training?"

Both of us froze.

Tiamat stood with her arms crossed, crimson eyes glinting like twin lanterns of amusement. Her smile was wide enough to reveal a trace of fang.

Luna squeaked—an actual squeak—and shoved off my chest. But my arm didn't let go of her waist. Instead, she ended up even closer, our noses brushing.

"Stay still a bit," I whispered as she squirmed. My arms tightened, hugging her against me.

Her resistance faltered. Her breath warmed my collarbone.

"Thank you for everything, Luna," I murmured. My voice came out rougher than I intended, because I meant it with all of me.

She stilled.

"You're my first friend," I said softly. "My first hope. The one I tell everything, the one who knows everything. The one who chose me. For that… I can never thank you enough."

Luna's golden eyes softened. She leaned her head against my chest, listening to my heartbeat. "You too, Arthur. Thank you for being the best contractor I could have ever asked for."

Our noses were almost touching. Her eyes closed as she whispered again. "Thank you."

I whispered her name back. "Luna."

And then we simply stayed like that. Her head rested against me. My arms held her. The bond between us hummed warm and steady, without words or magic. Just presence.

That presence stretched. A while became a long while. I could have held her there forever.

Until I realized she had stopped moving entirely.

"Luna?" I asked, tilting my head down.

No response.

I checked her breathing. Soft. Even. Gentle.

She had fallen asleep.

"She was in the middle of training when you stormed in," Tiamat said from her perch, voice dry with fondness. "Then she had to heal you. It drained more than she admits. She's exhausted."

I let out a quiet sigh and carefully adjusted my grip. "Where's her room?"

Tiamat pointed with a flicker of mana toward one of the arched crystalline corridors. "There."

"Thank you," I said. I shifted, sliding my arms beneath Luna's knees and back. Then I rose smoothly, cradling her against me in a princess carry. Her head nestled against my shoulder, soft hair brushing my cheek.

I turned to leave.

"Arthur," Tiamat's voice called after me.

I paused, glancing back.

Her crimson eyes were not amused now. They were steady. Old. Heavy. "Don't hurt Luna. That child has suffered enough already."

I nodded without hesitation. "I won't."

"Good." Tiamat's gaze softened, though her tone stayed firm. "The last thing I want is to see her sad. Remember that, boy."

"Yes, Great Guardian," I said.

I continued down the crystalline hallway, Luna light in my arms despite the thousand years she carried. My steps were silent in the vast dragon lair.

But her words stayed with me.

Hurt Luna?

Absurd.

Luna was as important to me as my parents, my sister, Stella, and my fiancées. She was my family. She was my bond. She was my hope.

I would never hurt her.