The Cursed Extra: Bloodline of Sacrifice

Chapter 65 A Graceful Encounter

[POV: Vynesaa El'Leather]

The soft glow of enchanted lanterns illuminated the grand hall of the palace.

Vynesaa stood near the balcony, arms crossed, her lavender eyes fixated on the massive projection screen that displayed the training grounds.

Below, her brother Zareth sparred against the human—Ed.

She frowned.

The boy was sloppy.

His footwork was unrefined, and his swings lacked precision.

Even Zareth, whose skills weren't particularly outstanding compared to the other elvens, was making a fool out of him.

"Pathetic," she muttered under her breath.

From behind, a calm yet commanding voice interrupted her thoughts.

"You're quite invested in watching them," said Aeloria, her mother, the Queen of the Elven Kingdom.

Vynesaa turned, her expression guarded. "Not really. I'm just confused."

Aeloria raised an eyebrow. "Confused about what?"

Vynesaa hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Are you sure that human saved Zareth's life?"

Aeloria sighed, stepping beside her daughter. "Yes."

Vynesaa scoffed. "But look at him. He's pathetic. He doesn't know anything about swordsmanship, about magic—he's completely untrained. So how exactly did he manage to save my brother?"

Aeloria regarded her daughter carefully. "What are you implying?"

Vynesaa narrowed her eyes. "I don't trust him."

"Because he is human?" Aeloria asked knowingly.

Vynesaa didn't answer immediately. Instead, she turned back toward the screen, watching Ed struggle against Zareth.

She watched how he moved—how he constantly adjusted himself, his grip, his stance, his movements.

It was sloppy, but there was something else there.

A stubbornness.

"Yes," she finally said. "Humans are unpredictable. And weak. And yet, Father is allowing him to train with us?"

Aeloria exhaled softly. "You still think in absolutes, child."

Vynesaa clenched her fists. "I just don't understand."

Aeloria gestured toward the screen, where Zareth had just knocked Ed down—again.

The boy sat on the ground, breathing heavily, his wooden sword lying beside him.

But even as he lost again and again, he didn't look defeated.

"Have you ever seen your brother this happy?" Aeloria asked.

Vynesaa stiffened.

"You know why Zareth ran away," Aeloria continued. "You, more than anyone, understand what kind of environment he was raised in."

Vynesaa's lips pressed into a thin line.

Of course, she knew.

She knew exactly why Zareth had abandoned the palace, why he had chosen a life outside their kingdom, why he had been hesitant to return.

And yet, he was here now. Training. Laughing.

A twirl sent droplets into the air, only to gently return to the surface without a sound.

It was mesmerizing.

For a moment, Ed forgot everything else.

'Cute.'

The word slipped into his thoughts before he could stop it.

'Too cute.'

She was lost in her own world, her soft pink hair flowing with every movement, her eyes closed as if nothing else existed.

Every motion, every sway of her body, carried an unspoken elegance.

And then—

She stopped.

The water stilled instantly.

Her lavender eyes opened, sharp yet unreadable, and landed on him.

She didn't react at first, simply acknowledging his presence with brief disinterest before turning away.

But after two steps, she stopped again.

This time, she turned fully to face him, her gaze colder than before.

"Hey, why are you looking at me?" she asked.

Ed, unfazed, leaned slightly against a nearby pillar. "I was just watching your dance steps... they were good."

Vynesaa tilted her head slightly. "Is that so?"

She observed him for a moment, her expression unreadable, before turning away once more.

With the same graceful steps, she left the courtyard, her presence fading.

Ed remained where he stood.

A small smirk tugged at his lips.

'She's exactly the same as in the novel—cold, untouchable, powerful.'

Vynesaa El'Leather.

The princess of the elves.

The one who stood at the peak, never faltering, never breaking.

In the original story, she was one of the strongest figures, the main rival of the protagonist.

A symbol of unmatched talent, yet burdened by her own solitude.

She had remained single throughout the entire novel—not for lack of admirers, but because no one could ever match her.

No one could stand beside her as an equal.

The protagonist, too, had only one love—his childhood sweetheart.

His story had never been about collecting companions, nor had it been a tale of romance with multiple heroines.

It had been a singular, unwavering bond.

And Vynesaa—she had walked her path alone.

Just like always.

Ed exhaled softly, shaking his head as he finally turned to leave.