The Extra Who Shouldn't Exist novel Chapter 62

Chapter 62: Chapter 62 : The first speech from a future legend

The grand auditorium of Zenith Academy was packed with first-year cadets, second-years, third-years, faculty members, and a few important guests.

The ceiling sparkled with floating lights, holograms of past champions shimmered along the walls, and majestic banners waved gently despite the lack of wind. It was the First-Year Award Ceremony, and excitement buzzed through the air.

The vaulted ceilings glistened with crystal lights, and the murmurs of a thousands of cadets created a low, expectant hum.

Then, the giant golden doors creaked open.

Alex and Draven stepped through the massive double doors of the Zenith Grand Auditorium, their shoes clicking against the polished obsidian floor. The moment they entered, every eye in the room snapped toward them.

All eyes turned as Alex Dragonheart and Draven entered—sweaty, dusty, and looking like they’d just escaped from a jungle expedition rather than the student dorms. Leaves were still stuck in Draven’s hair.

Whispers swept through the crowd.

"Are they late?"

"Wait, did they fight a bear on the way here?"

"Who are those guys?"

The whispers were everywhere.

The two looked like they’d just crawled out of a dungeon—bruised, scuffed, and slightly off-balance from a two-day survival misadventure.

Even as Alex and Draven finished their banter, everyone’s attention remained locked on them.

Suddenly noticing the unexpected attention.

Alex cleared his throat and muttered, "Well, that’s a warm welcome."

Draven whispered back, "I hate this. Because of you, we arrived late."

Just then, a voice echoed crisply across the hall from the stage.

"Mr. Alex Dragonheart, thank you for gracing us with your presence."

It was Alicia von Crestvale, Student Council President—and Zenith’s most terrifyingly elegant existence.

Draven turned slowly to look at Alex with wide, questioning eyes.

"Wait... what? Why is the Student Council President calling you out?"

He stared at Alex, whose face now resembled a man trying to remember if he’d left the stove on.

Alex, however, had bigger problems. His gaze landed on the nine cadets standing confidently on the stage, and at least half of them were clearly laughing at him.

Ethan Williams was holding back a smirk.

Alden von Crest didn’t even pretend to hold his laughter. He casually covered his mouth, pretending to cough.

Even Seraphina and Charlotte—normally composed—looked like they were trying hard not to laugh.

And then there was Lilith. Her icy, emotionless expression cracked just enough to flash a brief, mocking smirk.

That one stung.

Alex was pulled from his spiraling embarrassment by Alicia’s voice again.

"Finally... please welcome your Apex, Alex Dragonheart."

The words rang through the entire auditorium.

A sharp gasp swept through the crowd as everyone’s attention locked onto the silver-haired, blue-eyed cadet who looked like he belonged on a fashion runway rather than a battlefield.

Draven’s face turned pale.

"I—what—he’s really the Apex? The Apex?!" Draven whispered, shell-shocked.

Memories of the last 48 hours with Alex rushed through his mind—the near-death experience, the forest monsters, the shamelessness.

"So this walking disaster is really our Apex," he muttered repeatedly, unable to believe it. He’d had doubts, but now he realized he had simply been denying reality.

And that was also the moment he realized:

"Yup. We’re screwed. Not just me... the entire first year is doomed."

Alicia gestured toward the stage. "Alex, if you please."

Alex began walking confidently down the aisle, his blazer fluttering slightly with each step.

Draven, in contrast, walked behind him like a man heading to his execution.

"Stop walking like a corpse," Alex muttered.

"I feel like a corpse," Draven hissed. "And this corpse hates you."

After a few more steps, Draven slipped into the crowd, abandoning Alex to face the attention alone.

Now under the full weight of a thousand gazes, the whispers returned—this time like wildfire.

"Dragonheart? Never heard that noble name before."

"Is he a commoner?"

"He’s so hot though... Did you see those eyes?"

"Where’d he get that uniform?"

And they had reason to talk. Alex’s Apex uniform was a sight to behold—

He adjusted his pristine white blazer, adorned with golden embroidery and crimson lining. The massive golden Zenith Phoenix emblazoned on his back shimmered under the lights, capturing the attention of everyone present.

He walked as if the entire hall was his personal catwalk—chin high, steps precise, oozing charisma with every movement.

The girls swooned.

Some guys stared in jealousy.

Others made mental notes to find out who his tailor was—or more precisely, the tailor Academy had hired to design the outfit.

Alex reached the stage, and Alicia pointed to a glowing platform.

He stood there, hands behind his back, looking utterly unfazed.

Alicia’s voice echoed again. "Now that all ten of our top cadets are present, we shall begin the awards ceremony."

Each cadet stepped forward one by one to receive:

A silver robe adorned with golden embroidery

Two C-rank artifacts

A platinum badge with the Zenith insignia

She held up the badge. "These grant access to exclusive training areas, resources, and library floors usually restricted to senior years."

The crowd murmured.

Then Alicia smirked.

"Now, let’s talk about currency. As of today, credits are meaningless within these walls. The academy uses a merit-based currency system called C.P—Consumption Points."

Confused murmurs followed.

"Your C.P will be credited monthly based on your performance, achievements, and mission completion.

And if you’re going outside of the academy for a mission, you can exchange your C.P into credits beforehand. Amazing, right?"

Then she winked.

"And here’s the fun part—being in the Top 10 comes with bonus C.P every month."

The crowd perked up.

A hologram lit up showing:

Rank 10: 100,000 CP

Rank 9: 200,000 CP

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