Aurevia sat quietly at Alaric's bedside, the flickering lamplight casting long shadows across the small room.
Her hands rested neatly in her lap, but inside her chest, a storm of memories raged — sharp and bitter, like shards of ice cutting through flesh.
Aurevia Elenaris Lysanthir.
Crown Princess of the Glacial Kingdom of Lysanthir.
Heir to the Frostheart Throne.
Once, those names had meant something.
Her people had lived beneath eternal snows, in a land carved from ancient glaciers and crowned by shimmering auroras.
Lysanthir was a realm of solemn, untouched beauty — ruled by a bloodline blessed by Thalara, the Goddess of Tides and Echoes.
Those of the Lysanthir family carried the divine blood of the ancient waters, deep and steady as the glaciers themselves.
Aurevia had been raised amidst a court of icy splendor, where duty and grace were stitched into every breath she took. She had been trained in the divine arts, court etiquette, the delicate dance of politics, and the subtle manipulation of aura.
From an early age, she had shown talent — not overwhelmingly brilliant, but steady and enduring, like a winter flame that never faltered. Her path had been clear:
One day, she would rule.
But fate is rarely kind to those born under high banners.
The rebellion came not from foreign enemies, but from within.
Dissatisfied nobles, envious merchants, ambitious generals — they whispered in the dark, weaving tales of ending the old ways.
They spoke of tearing down the "cold-blooded royalty" who, they claimed, hoarded divine blessings while the common folk starved through brutal winters.
The rebellion was swift. Brutal. Unforgiving.
The Frost Palace, heart of her kingdom, fell within a week.
She watched her parents die — poisoned by those they trusted most. Her younger brother vanished amidst the chaos, presumed dead, though she had never seen the body.
The sacred relic of their kingdom, the Heart of Winter, was stolen and paraded like a trophy through the blood-slicked streets.
In the madness, a handful of loyal knights smuggled her away. Wounded, desperate, bound by oaths stronger than iron, they cloaked the princess in common rags, dyed her brilliant silver hair a dull brown, and led her through frozen forests and shattered villages.
They were hunted like animals.
One by one, her protectors fell — cut down by bounty hunters, betrayed by frightened villagers, or simply succumbing to their wounds.
Aurevia ran until her legs gave out, until her once-pristine aura splintered under exhaustion and despair.
When they finally caught her, it was not rebel soldiers who seized her, but slave traders — scavengers of fallen kingdoms, drawn by the scent of ruin.
She fought. Gods, she fought.
But what chance did a half-starved, wounded girl have against seasoned mercenaries?
By the time she was dragged into the filthy border markets, her divine gifts had all but withered. Her energy center was fractured; her once-glorious aura now flickered like a dying ember.
Her captors noticed her unnatural beauty — a tragic, otherworldly beauty that even grime and rough treatment could not fully conceal. It sealed her fate.
She was marked for the pleasure houses, a rare prize in the eyes of those who would never imagine she had once worn a crown.
Her body had remained untouched even through captivity — not by mercy, but by greed. Virgins fetched a higher price.
She was taken across borders into the neighboring Kingdom of Velmora, to the city of Veldroth — the second-largest city after the capital. There, she was given a week. If no buyer came, her fate would be sealed forever.
She had already resigned herself to it.
Until Alaric.
Until the boy with sunlit hair and bright amber eyes appeared, hand in hand with fate.
At first, she thought it a cruel trick — some old monster wearing a child's face, a game of pretense to lure those already broken.
But when she heard him speak — heard the innocence in his voice, saw the pure light in his gaze — she realized the impossible.
He was truly a child. Barely five years old.
And more than that: he was a Blessed One. His aura was too radiant, too pure to be anything less. His golden hair and amber eyes left little doubt —
A child marked by Elyssira, Goddess of Radiance, Life, and Renewal herself.
When he healed her — when that warmth, pure and boundless, surged through her shattered veins — Aurevia wept.
She wept for the first time since Lysanthir fell.
It felt like a miracle.
And with it came something she had thought lost: hope.
Hope that one day she might reclaim what had been stolen from her. Hope that vengeance, once cold and distant, might now burn warm and near.
But even then, even in the wildest corners of her dreams, she could not have imagined what followed.
Within hours, her body, which had once been hollowed by suffering, now thrummed with life. Her broken energy center was not merely repaired —
it was reforged, stronger than it had ever been. She advanced all the way to the peak of [Rank-3]— something that should have taken decades of arduous cultivation for someone starting from nothing.
Her aura was now so pure, so dense, that she was confident she could even rival ordinary [Rank-4] . Her mana veins, once riddled with fractures, had been restored and strengthened beyond the limits of her bloodline.
In the world of Elarion, purity of aura and the sturdiness of one's mana veins determined a cultivator's true strength.
A pure aura meant greater efficiency, greater power; a single strike could carry the weight of ten. But pure aura was a double-edged blessing — without veins strong enough to bear it, even a minor technique could rupture the body from within. Death was not rare among the reckless.
Likewise, those born with strong veins but unable to cultivate pure aura found their growth stunted, forever stuck at middling strength.
Aurevia understood this better than most. And so, as she felt the harmony between her aura and veins — flawless, seamless — she trembled. Not in fear, but in awe.
It was a miracle beyond miracles.
And now, she finally understood why Alaric had warned them: if his secret were ever revealed, it could ignite a war — a thousand factions would tear apart kingdoms and empires alike just to claim him.
She glanced at the other two girls Alaric had purchased alongside her. From the look in their eyes — wide, stunned, humbled — she knew they, too, had understood the enormity of what had been given to them.
Without a word, each vowed silently to guard his secret with their lives.
No promises were spoken aloud.
None were needed.
Instead, they simply stayed by Alaric's side, watching over him through the night as he slept, his breathing soft and steady.
There was food enough in the small house. Hunger was not their concern. Only him.
For the first time since she had been driven from her home, Aurevia felt the stirring of something fragile and precious in her chest:
Loyalty. Hope. A cause worth living for.
And she swore to herself — she would not lose it again.
*****
✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢
✶ I Reincarnated as an Extra ✶
✧ in a Reverse Harem World ✧
⊱ Eternal_Void_ ⊰
✢═─༻༺═✢═─༻༺═✢
*****
Alaric, who had been asleep, finally woke up a whole day later. As he opened his eyes, he saw that all the girls had fallen asleep around him. He didn't want to disturb them, but even his slight movement woke up Aurevia, whose senses had grown far sharper — she was now a full-fledged [Rank-3], on the verge of stepping into [Rank-4]. In fact, calling her a half-step [Rank-4] wouldn't be wrong.
At [Rank-4], true transcendence occurs. A person breaks past human limitations, stepping into the realm of superhumans. [Rank-4] individuals can float above the ground and possess strength equal to ten peak [Rank-3]s combined. The power disparity between the two ranks was like heaven and earth — a single [Rank-4] could wipe out a count-level city in Velmora within an hour without much difficulty.
Aurevia, seeing that Alaric was awake, gave him a gentle smile and greeted him softly,
"Good morning, Master."
Alaric nodded and gestured for her to stay quiet so the others wouldn't wake. Understanding, Aurevia laid her head back down, smiling warmly at him.
Alaric said nothing, focusing inward instead. His mind felt unusually clear — as if he had never been exhausted in the first place.Mostly thanks to his soul trait.
But the most astonishing was the change in his Divine Energy: it had significantly increased.
Previously, he had tried many ways to grow it but failed. Yet now, after completely exhausting himself, it had expanded by a large margin.
Not only had the quantity increased, but the quality had also improved. His Divine Energy felt purer, stronger, more sacred —
as if it had ascended to an entirely new level, just like how aura and Mana would when someone ranked up.
He also noticed another change: the "threads" connecting him to the girls, previously thin like hair, were now as thick as wires.
The thickest was Aurevia's, followed by Callione's, then Serineth's. Alaric reasoned that the thickness must correlate to their loyalty, which had clearly deepened after what had happened.
These wires undulated from his Divine Heart Core, allowing him to channel far more divine energy through them than before — a considerable improvement.
As Alaric was quietly checking these changes, the other two girls began to stir awake. They greeted him the same way Aurevia had. Like yesterday, they ate breakfast together, but the mood was visibly lighter.
The girls chatted among themselves, sharing stories from their lives while Alaric had been unconscious.
Alaric, quietly pleased, didn't show it outwardly.
After breakfast, Alaric called them over much like the day before. This time, it was Callione's turn.
When told to sit in front of Alaric like Aurevia had, she seemed excited — though she tried, and failed, to hide it.
Sitting cross-legged, she waited eagerly. Alaric got straight to the point. He offered her two options:
Keep the magic circle she had already built and layer the next one atop it.
Break the existing one and create a new foundation from scratch.
Without hesitation, Callione chose to break it and start anew.
Given how close the circle was to her heart, she had to proceed carefully — a single mistake could be fatal. Once the delicate task was complete, Alaric warned her that he was about to begin.
Both closed their eyes.
The path of a mage differed fundamentally from that of a warrior.
Warriors using an aura cultivation technique to sence the dormant mana within them and then circulating it around the body to increase it slowly.
They can also absorbed mana through herbs, pills, and natural treasures, cultivating it internally and circulating aura throughout their bodies. Thus improving their Rank faster.
Mages, on the other hand, pulled Mana directly from the atmosphere by rotting their magic circles around their heart , storing it in their magic circles. They used their blood vessels to circulate mana, not separate mana veins like warriors.
For a mage, building a magic circle was far more complicated.
The [1st-Circle] required memorizing and engraving nine complex runes.
2nd circle: 18 runes.
3rd circle: 36 runes.
But to build the [4th-Circle], a different approach was required. First they had to break all the magic circle at once and compress all the mana into a single point until it became like small ball.
The Mana Runes on the other hand had to be engraved on the surface of the heart. And the ball of mana which is known as Mana Core, placing it inside the heart.
It acted like a second heart but for mana — a second heart made entirely of mana that merged Mana into their bloodstream.
This allowed mana to flow more freely and efficiently, greatly improving lifespan, spell speed, and strength.
Many mages also engraved an elemental rune into their Mana Core to specialize their magic, making their mana heart more complete.
By doing so one has more advantages like more efficient in controlling that espacific element that was engraved as a rune in the Mana Core within the heart.
However, this was a risky, permanent decision; changing it later meant shattering the core, usually leading to death.
Building a magic circle alone for the first time was nearly impossible without guidance.
Fortunately, Callione had already experienced it once and was confident she could manage this time.
***
Once Callione finished dismantling her previous circle, Alaric slowly channeled divine energy through the thickened wire connecting them.
He was cautious: unlike Aurevia, who as a [Rank-3] could absorb large amounts of aura quickly, Callione was more fragile.
Forming mana runes was painstaking work.
Unlike warriors who could move mana by instinct, mages had to painstakingly engrave each rune. It normally took months to complete a single one.
However, with Alaric supplying extremely pure and abundant mana, Callione found the task shockingly easy.
At first, she felt a warm and sacred sensation, which gradually dulled — just as Aurevia had warned.
Nobody told Alaric yet, but while he slept, the girls had decided on their hierarchy: Aurevia was the "big sister," Callione the second, and Serineth the third, based on the order of their slave sealings.
Not lingering on those thoughts, Callione focused on her task.
She carefully drew Mana into a circle around her heart, then connected a second circle — forming a structure like a doughnut.
This ring system would act as a canvas for her mana runes.
Using Alaric's Divine Energy which was now creating extremelypure Mana, she began engraving the first rune. To her astonishment, it took minutes rather than months.
Quickly, she engraved the second, third, fourth... until she finished all nine necessary for a complete [1st-Circle] mage.
When she was done, Callione realized she had jumped from a [Late-1st-Circle] mage to a [Peak-1st-Circle] mage in just a few hours — a height she hadn't reached even after years of hard work.
Just as she was basking in the achievement, the divine energy supply suddenly stopped.
Confused, she opened her eyes.
Alaric smiled and explained that rushing her growth too quickly would harm her foundation. Aurevia had been a special case because she was already [Rank-3].
Callione nodded in understanding.
***
They all freshened up afterward. Seeing them, Serineth and Aurevia got up to prepare food.
Alaric, feeling more energetic than yesterday thanks to his improved Divine Energy, walked over to the table.
Seeing only simple bread, he felt a twinge of guilt. They had been eating so simply ever since they arrived.
He decided he would soon buy some proper ingredients for real meals.
As Cellione wasn't back yet, Alaric told the two girls to sit and talk while they waited.
He turned to Serineth and asked if she wanted to become a warrior or a mage.
Both paths were open to her, and he was willing to help her grow rapidly in whichever she chose.
Serineth fell into deep thought at his question.
Seeing this, Alaric told her gently,
"Take your time. I'll wait."
Hearing that, Serineth lifted her head and looked at Alaric...
-To Be Continued