Extra is the Heir of Life and Death

Chapter 222 222: Show me everything

I woke up falling.

One moment there was white, then black, then the echo of a name—Vespera—still reverberating through whatever part of me existed between breath and heartbeat.

The next moment my chair tipped backward.

There was a sharp crack as wood smacked against the floor, a jolt that tore the air from my lungs, and I hit the ground hard enough that the world blurred around the edges.

For a second I lay there staring at the ceiling of my room, chest heaving, heart hammering like it was trying to escape my ribs.

Then the memories hit.

Not gently.

Not in fragments.

They came rushing back in a single, merciless wave.

The staircase.

The hall of black chandeliers and blue fire.

The crying statue collapsing into a woman of flesh and indifference.

The doorway dissolving.

The chained fragment the size of a star.

The weight of something that could erase civilizations pulsing quietly inside me.

Vespera.

Goddess of Life and Death.

The awareness that I had once chosen to seal something incomprehensible inside my own body.

The understanding that what I had seen—what had nearly broken my mind with its scale—was not even 0.00000001% of Him.

I sucked in a breath that felt too small for my lungs.

The ceiling above me was familiar. Wooden beams. Soft lamplight. The faint crack along the plaster near the corner where I had once misjudged a throw of energy during training. Ordinary. Real.

But I did not feel ordinary.

I felt… vast.

Something inside me shifted.

It wasn't pain. It wasn't pleasure. It was pressure changing, like the moment before a storm breaks, when the air becomes too heavy and then suddenly lightens.

Deep in my chest—deeper than bone, deeper than muscle—something clicked.

Not physically.

Spiritually.

A lock turning.

I rolled onto my side slowly, palms pressing against the floor. The wood beneath my fingers felt sharper, more defined. Every grain. Every splinter. My senses were clearer, as though someone had scrubbed a layer of fog from my perception.

The energy inside me surged.

It did not spill out.

It aligned.

I could feel it coiling through my veins, threading along my nerves, pooling behind my eyes. Life and death interwove within my core, but now there was something else braided through them—a deeper resonance. A hum that felt ancient and deliberate.

The first of three locks.

That thought surfaced instinctively.

My bloodline.

I closed my eyes and focused inward.

There was a structure to it now, something I had not sensed before. Three immense gates arranged along the axis of my soul. The first one—closest to the surface—had cracked open. Not fully shattered. Not completely dissolved. But undeniably broken.

Power seeped through the fracture.

Controlled.

Measured.

Mine.

I laughed softly, the sound a little unsteady.

So this was what awakening truly felt like.

Not a flashy explosion.

Not a dramatic flare.

A fundamental rearrangement.

A recalibration of scale.

I pushed myself upright slowly, leaning against the overturned chair as the rush of memory settled into place. It did not overwhelm me this time. It integrated. The hall, the fragment, Vespera's calm voice—they became part of me rather than something pressing from outside.

And beneath it all was the absence.

Bastard.

The cosmic entity that had once occupied my soul like a shadow with teeth.

Gone.

For another year at least.

The realization left a hollow space in my chest that I hadn't expected. I had mocked the name. Dismissed it. Treated it like a nuisance, a parasite, a sarcastic voice at the edge of my thoughts.

But he had been constant.

A presence.

A witness.

Now there was silence where he should have been.

I exhaled slowly.

"One year," I muttered to myself.

I didn't know who Bastard truly was. Not fully. But my body did. My instincts did. There was familiarity there, layered under irritation and reluctant reliance.

Saddened was the wrong word.

Unsettled fit better.

Still, the absence did not weaken me.

If anything, it clarified something.

This power—the lock breaking—had not been because of him.

It had been because of me.

Because my will had walked the staircase.

Because I had faced what I carried and returned.

I straightened fully and willed the system to respond.

"Status."

The air in front of me shimmered faintly, then a translucent panel unfolded into view, its familiar layout anchoring me to the present.

—

StatusName: Sebastian NekrosAge: 18Rank: C (56%)Affinity: Life, Death, SoulflamesBloodline: Unlocked (1/3)

AttributesStrength: BAgility: B+Endurance: C+Perception: B-Willpower: BLuck: unpredictable

—Titles:

Son of Death

Apostle of Life

Anomaly

—

I stared at it for a long moment.

Rank: C (56%).

I had gained six percent.

Six.

That alone would have taken weeks of focused training under normal circumstances.

Strength: B.

Agility: B+.

Perception: B-.

Willpower: B.

Every category had sharpened.

It wasn't a dramatic leap into absurdity. I hadn't suddenly become untouchable. But the refinement was undeniable. My body felt tighter, more responsive. My senses more layered.

Then my gaze settled on it.

Bloodline: Unlocked (1/3).

Not "awakening."

Not "partial."

Unlocked.

The first lock was gone.

A slow smile tugged at my lips.

So Vespera had not lied.

I leaned back slightly, letting the panel hover in front of me like a mirror reflecting something deeper than flesh.

Son of Death.

Apostle of Life.

Anomaly.

The titles felt heavier now.

More literal.

The fragment chained inside me pulsed faintly in response to my awareness. It did not strain. It did not threaten.

It waited.

A top-tier SSS-rank equivalent sealed beneath my skin, and that was barely a whisper of the whole.

A shiver ran down my spine.

Fear flickered briefly—but it did not root itself.

I had seen it.

I had faced it.

And I had returned.

That mattered.

Two seals remained.

My pulse quickened slightly at the implication.

If the first lock breaking had refined me like this…

What would the second do?

What would the third unleash?

The thought was equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.

I flexed my fingers slowly, watching faint wisps of Soulflame flicker along my knuckles before fading. The flames felt calmer now, less volatile. They answered more smoothly to my intent.

I pushed gently against the fragment within.

Not physically.

Mentally.

There was resistance—but it was structured, like pressing against reinforced glass rather than chaos. The containment integrity reading echoed in my mind.

Stable.

For now.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

One year.

Bastard wouldn't return for at least that long.

Whatever role he played in this cosmic equation, I would have to move without him.

Fine.

I had always preferred walking my own path anyway.

I dismissed the panel halfway, then paused.

There was one more line at the bottom, faint and newly visible.

Bloodline Skill: Locked (Condition Unmet)

My brows drew together.

Condition Unmet?

Of course.

Nothing was ever simple.

I willed for more information, but the system only pulsed faintly in response, refusing to elaborate.

I chuckled under my breath.

"Figures."

Even awakened, even refined, there were still layers beyond my reach.

But that didn't frustrate me.

It grounded me.

Power without progression felt hollow. This—this structure of locks and conditions and thresholds—meant there was direction.

I pushed myself fully to my feet, righting the fallen chair and setting it upright.

The room felt smaller now.

Not physically.

In perspective.

The world beyond it felt thinner.

Fragile.

I walked to the window and pulled the curtain aside slightly.

Night.

The campus lights of Astralis flickered in the distance, steady and mundane. Students slept. Teachers prepared lectures. The rhythm of ordinary life continued undisturbed.

And inside my chest, something chained and ancient pulsed quietly, equal to a Demon King and yet insignificant compared to its source.

I rested my forehead lightly against the cool glass, letting the chill steady the heat beneath my skin, my breath fogging the window in uneven bursts that faded as quickly as they formed.

The world beyond it moved on without pause—cars sliding past, distant lights flickering, people living lives that had nothing to do with mine—while I stood still, caught between what had been and what was coming next. I was eighteen, old enough for expectations to harden, young enough to still feel unprepared, balanced on that thin, uncertain line between almost and not yet.

Rank C.

First seal broken.

Carrying a star fragment in my soul.

And somewhere beyond comprehension, the rest of Him slept.

A slow, steady resolve settled over me.

I did not remember choosing this path.

But I had.

And I would not waste it.

Behind my ribs, the broken lock gleamed faintly in the darkness of my inner world.

Two remained.

I straightened, letting the curtain fall back into place.

"Show me everything," I murmured softly to the system.

The bloodline panel expanded further, new text beginning to scroll into view—

—and I leaned forward to read.

A/N: I apologize in advance, I tried finding the latest status window but couldn't. I really did try, but it seems my files have disappeared. I'll read through the previous chapters and find the latest one, will update the chapter after that.

Sorry for the inconvenience.