Is It Wrong for an Extra to Steal the Protagonist's Harem?

"Get in the tub, Alex. Now."

Sylvia's voice left absolutely no room for negotiation. She pointed toward the large, white-tiled basin in the corner of the combat laboratory's adjacent medical room. The brass spigots were already running, filling the basin with clear, lukewarm water.

Alex leaned heavily against the doorframe, his breath still coming in shallow, heated gasps. His chest felt tight, the pressure from the eighty-one percent saturation pressing against his ribs like an iron band. "I can still stand," he argued, his voice raspy. "The gauge hasn't peaked. I just need a minute to let things settle."

"If you take another impact right now, your mana circuit isn't going to settle. It is going to rupture," Sylvia said, crossing the room and grabbing his uninjured arm. She wasn't a combat mage, but she hauled him forward with surprising strength. "Your core is badly strained. Think of it like water trapped inside a boiling pipe. If you keep putting pressure on it without letting the steam out, the pipe bursts. You are the pipe. Get in the water."

Alex didn't have the strength to fight her, nor the breath. He stripped off his damp gray training shirt, his muscles trembling slightly from the strain of holding back the stored kinetic energy. He kept his trousers on and stepped into the deep basin, sinking down until the water reached his collarbones.

Emily stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, watching the treatment with intense focus. "If he is overheating, shouldn't you be using ice? I can drop the temperature of the water to freezing in two seconds."

"No," Sylvia snapped, picking up a vial of pale blue liquid from her medical cart. "If you apply ice directly to a boiling pipe, the sudden shock can crack the metal. The mana circuit works the same way. We need to draw the heat out gradually, or we risk permanent damage."

Sylvia uncorked the vial and poured three measured drops into the water. The liquid spread outward in swirling blue ribbons. Alex felt the effects immediately. The medicine helped his circulation while the water slowly began to pull the heat from his skin. The lukewarm water turned uncomfortably warm within seconds, drawing away some of the heat building inside him.

"He can't drag a bathtub into the tournament arena," Emily pointed out, stepping further into the medical room. She didn't look away from Alex's flushed chest, treating what was happening to him as part of the research. "If Ivan Baker uses the same rapid-strike tactics Guildmaster Sophie just demonstrated, Alex will overload in under a minute."

"Then we create a portable heat-sink," Sylvia said, grabbing a blank slate from the counter and a piece of chalk. "Something that rests against the skin and draws the heat away without disturbing the stored force."

"An ice shell," Emily suggested instantly. "I can shape a thin layer of frost outside his uniform. It would absorb the heat directly upon impact."

Alex shook his head, resting the back of his neck against the cool porcelain rim of the basin. "An ice shell is rigid. It will shatter the moment I absorb a heavy blow or use Phantom Tread to pivot. I need mobility."

"He's right," Sylvia agreed, sketching a rough cylinder on the slate. "It has to be flexible, and it has to reach the main mana paths. A conductive bracelet. Something that sits directly over the pulse point on the wrist."

Alex closed his eyes, his mind working through the haze of the heat pressing inside him. "The theoretical texts I brought into the Spire. The ones covering dimensional storage runes. They rely on pulling excess mana into a replaceable crystal instead of letting it spread into the air. We could apply the same idea to heat."

Emily stepped closer to the slate, her competitive edge flaring. "You want to channel the waste heat down your arm, through a conductive mesh, and trap it inside a physical crystal?"

"Exactly," Alex said. "It releases the heat, but it doesn't release the stored kinetic energy. I keep the force I need to hit Ivan back, but I don't cook myself from the inside out."

"It's a brilliant application," Sylvia muttered, erasing a line and redrawing the bracelet's interior structure. "But the conductivity requirement is huge. Standard copper or silver will melt under that kind of sudden heat. We need a material that can handle extreme temperatures."

Before Sylvia could continue, the heavy door to the medical room clicked open.

Lily stepped inside. She carried a woven basket containing a covered plate of food, a flask of tea, and a folded stack of clean academy clothes. She wore her crisp black-and-white maid uniform, looking entirely out of place in the sterile, tense environment of a combat laboratory.

She offered a polite, immaculate curtsy to Sylvia, Cassandra—who was leaning against the far wall—and Emily.

"Good afternoon, Professors. Lady Frost," Lily said, her tone perfectly even.

Then she turned her gaze to the basin.

Lily's eyes tracked the discarded, blood-spotted rag on the counter. She saw the flushed, overheated redness of Alex's skin, the slight tremor in his uninjured left hand as it rested on the porcelain edge, and the medicinal blue water around him.

Alex knew that look. It was the exact same quiet, devastating look she gave him when he skipped meals or stayed up reading until dawn, only magnified by a hundred. She immediately realized the truth he had hidden from her during the Spire night and the mornings that followed. He hadn't just burned his palm catching the Arc-Cannon. He had badly hurt himself in the process.

Lily set the basket down on a sterile metal table. She didn't scream or demand answers. Her anger was entirely domestic, which somehow made it infinitely more intimidating than Cassandra's padded hammer.

"You took your monthly tonic this morning, as I instructed," Lily said softly, walking over to the edge of the basin. She picked up a clean towel and calmly wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. "But you conveniently forgot to mention that your core is currently working like a cracked furnace."

"It was a tactical omission," Alex said, attempting a slight, reassuring smile.

Lily did not smile back. "You will remain in this water until Professor Sylvia tells you to exit. You will eat the roasted chicken and drink the tea I have brought. And you will follow every single step of this new treatment schedule." She leaned in just an inch closer, dropping her voice so only he could hear the steel underneath it. "Or I will sit down at your desk, write a very detailed letter to the Duchess explaining every reckless decision you have made since arriving at Celestia, and hand-deliver it to the courier myself."

Alex swallowed hard. "The treatment schedule sounds fantastic."

Emily watched the exchange with open fascination. She was a noble of the Frost delegation, accustomed to a strict hierarchy where servants existed to obey, not to command. Yet here was a maid issuing absolute medical orders to the Edelhart heir, and he was yielding completely. It proved there were layers to Alex's life she hadn't even begun to understand.

Cassandra pushed off the wall, her boots clicking against the tiles. "Domestic disputes aside, we have a scheduling problem. The tournament preliminaries begin in exactly four days. After that, you are in the ring with Ivan Baker. A theoretical drawing on a slate isn't going to stop him from breaking you."

"Four days is enough time to build a working prototype," Sylvia said, her confidence returning. "But only if we have the right materials. As I said, standard metals will melt. I need medical-grade frost-silver mesh to line the inside of the bracelet. It's rare, but the Alchemy Department's secured stores should have a bulk roll from last semester."

Sylvia walked over to her administrative desk, pulling open a heavy wooden drawer to retrieve the master inventory ledger. She flipped through the thick parchment pages, her finger tracing down a long column of alchemical supplies, reagents, and precious metals.

She stopped. Her brow furrowed into a deep V.

"That can't be right," Sylvia murmured, running her finger over the line again.

"What is it?" Alex asked, sitting up slightly, causing the blue water to slosh against the sides of the basin.

"The frost-silver mesh," Sylvia said, turning the ledger around so they could see the fresh ink. "The entire bulk roll was checked out three days ago. There isn't a single scrap left in the secured stores."

Cassandra crossed her arms. "Checked out by who? Alchemy students don't have authorization for medical-grade alloys."

"It wasn't a student," Sylvia said, her voice dropping in confusion. She tapped the elegant, looping signature at the bottom of the requisition column. "It was signed out by Director Maelor Vane. The administrative code listed here marks it for 'routine barrier repairs'."

The room went completely silent. The running water from the brass spigot suddenly sounded incredibly loud.

Emily stepped forward, looking down at the ledger. Her blue eyes traced the signature, her mind immediately catching the problem in the paperwork.

"Why," Emily asked slowly, looking up at Alex, "does a barrier administrator need medical-grade frost-silver in bulk?"