I Was Transmigrated As An Extraordinary Extra-Chapter 82

"Where are you going?"

However, before she could take a step more, Sir Gusion grabbed her forearm.

"To have a better look at it and to identify it?"

She tried wriggling her arm free but it only tightened.

"We’re wasting time. Can you let go of me now?"

"I’ll go with you."

"What? Obviously not! You stay here and wait for my command."

"Mind you, my mentor also assigned me as a leader."

"What? Professor Orion’s gone mad! How could he assign two leaders in a mission?"

"Now you know. Now, let’s go."

"Wait Sir Gus-!"

The moment she felt her arm lightened, she quickly turned back but Sir Gusion was already gone.

The mercenaries only pointed out towards where the shadow is. I only sighed and quickly went towards it.

"I can’t believe he’s a pain in the @ss."

As she approached him in the back, she almost puke at him. Thankfully, he quickly cast a spell on me so that I can no longer smell the foul odor.

"Thanks."

"You can thank me by dropping the formalities."

"Don’t push it."

"Is that your way of saying thanks?"

I ignored him as I focused my sights on the monster.

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Fowlshiet

Difficulty: Elite Grade 2

Form: It was once an ordinary flying monster living in the night but something dark corrupted it. This monster stood nearly ten feet tall, its body a grotesque amalgamation of rotting flesh and decaying feathers. Its form was vaguely avian, with massive, leathery wings that seemed to be in a constant state of shedding. The creature’s head was an unsettling combination of a bird and a beast, with hollow, sunken eyes that glowed a sickly green and a beak lined with sharp, jagged teeth. Its skin, where it wasn’t covered by mangy feathers, was a mottled grayish-brown, oozing a thick, foul-smelling slime that dripped to the cavern floor. The odor was overwhelming—a rancid stench of decay and rot that made the air almost unbreathable and makes it difficult to approach.

Killing Method: The Fowlshiet killed its opponents through a combination of toxic emissions and brutal physical assaults. It would first release a cloud of poisonous gas from the pores on its wings, which could quickly incapacitate anyone who inhaled it, causing violent coughing fits, nausea, and dizziness. Once its prey was weakened by the poison, the Fowlshiet would attack with its beak and claws, shredding its victims with terrifying speed and strength. The creature was particularly dangerous because of its ability to fly, allowing it to swoop down on its prey with devastating force.

Weak Spot: Its glowing green eyes. If the eyes are covered or damaged, the creature becomes disoriented and unable to coordinate its attacks.

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Remillia and Archmage Gusion crouched behind a thick rock, their eyes fixed on the monstrous creature before them. The Putridon was a sight to behold, its slimy body glistening in the faint moonlight that filtered through the cave. The air was heavy with the stench of its foul odor, making it difficult for the two to hold their breath.

Remillia’s eyes gleamed with a mixture of curiosity and concern as she examined the creature. "Ah, a Fowlshiet," she said, her voice low and measured. "A creature of dark magic and corruption. It’s said that they can spread their influence through touch, turning even the strongest of wills to darkness."

"What do you think we’re dealing with here, Remillia?" Sir Gusion asked her.

Remillia’s eyes flicked towards him, then back to the creature. "I think we’re dealing with a creature that’s been corrupted by dark magic," she said. "It’s likely that it was once a noble creature, but it’s been twisted by the power of something more sinister. We’ll need to be careful if we’re going to take it down."

Gusion’s eyes narrowed, his gaze fixed on the Fowlshiet’s glowing green eyes. "I’ve never seen anything like it," he said, his voice low and steady. "But if what you say is true then this monster needs to be taken down immediately."

Remillia nodded, her eyes never leaving the Putridon.

"Some of you may not notice it, but the stench is not just a simple annoyance – it’s a manifestation of its dark power. We must be careful not to get too close."

"Ohh so that’s why I felt a little dizzy when I caught a whiff of the smell."

"Wait for my signal," Remillia whispered, her hand tightening around her weapon. "Then we’ll strike."

As the group prepared to face the Fowlshiet, the tension in the air was palpable. The mercenaries were already on edge, still grumbling under their breath about having to follow Remillia’s lead. But when one of them noticed the weapon she was wielding, his skepticism turned into outright disbelief.

"Wait, just to be clear," one of the mercenaries blurted out, his voice dripping with disdain. "Your weapon... is a dagger?"

"Yeah, got a problem with that?"

"You see mis- I mean leader, what makes you think that you can kill that monster with a mere dagger?"

He eyed the small blade in her hand with a mix of incredulity and scorn, clearly expecting something more formidable for such a dangerous mission.

Remillia rolled her eyes, not missing a beat. "What, did you think I’d bring a kitchen knife?" she shot back sarcastically, twirling the dagger expertly in her hand. "Just try to keep up, okay? This ’little dagger’ is about to save your ass."

The mercenary’s face flushed with irritation as he opened his mouth to retort, but before he could get the words out, Gusion intervened.

"That’s enough," Gusion said, his voice firm and authoritative. "Remillia is much more capable than you think. She just slayed an apex monster by herself."

His statement hung in the air, heavy with the weight of its implications. The mercenaries froze, their eyes widening in disbelief. Remillia, meanwhile, looked somewhat uncomfortable under the sudden praise.

"I only landed the final blow," Remillia interjected, her tone modest. "Without my friends, I—"

Sir Gusion cut her off, his voice gentle but insistent. "At least five elite rank or one apex Hero can defeat it and yet there were only three of you, still students, but you did most of the work, am I right?"

Remillia bit her lip, not wanting to admit it, but the truth was clear. She didn’t answer, her silence confirming Gusion’s words.

The mercenaries exchanged doubtful glances, their earlier skepticism now mingling with genuine shock.

"Her? Really?" one of them muttered under his breath, still struggling to process what he’d just heard.

"She’s only a student!" another added, his tone tinged with disbelief.

"Is she born as a genius?" a third mercenary whispered, his voice filled with a mix of awe and confusion.

Sir Gusion’s gaze swept over the group, his expression unyielding. "She did it with skill, strategy, and determination—qualities that make her more than qualified to lead this mission. Now, I suggest you put your doubts aside and focus on the task at hand."

The mercenaries fell silent, their doubts quelled by the archmage’s words. Though they still couldn’t fully comprehend how someone as young as Remillia could have accomplished such a feat, they now understood that underestimating her would be a grave mistake.

Remillia, feeling the shift in the atmosphere, squared her shoulders and nodded to Sir Gusion in silent thanks. Her expression then hardened, and she gave her next command with authority. "Focus on the eyes. Trust me, this will be over faster than you think."

The mercenaries exchanged uncertain glances but had no choice but to follow her lead. Remillia, dagger in hand, moved forward with a determined stride, her eyes locked on the glowing green orbs that were the Fowlshiet’s weak spot.

The creature’s glowing green eyes locked onto them, and with a blood-curdling screech, it launched itself forward as it spread its decaying wings, releasing a cloud of toxic gas that filled the cavern.

The mercenaries instinctively recoiled, covering their mouths and noses to avoid the poison, but they were clearly unprepared for the creature’s ferocity.

"Spread out and keep moving!" Remillia commanded, her voice cutting through the chaos. "Avoid the gas and aim for its eyes—those are its weak spots!"

The mercenaries hesitated for a moment, their earlier doubts resurfacing, but with Sir Gusion’s warning still fresh in their minds, they obeyed her orders. They moved to flank the creature, trying to get into position to strike at its glowing eyes.

The Fowlshiet, however, was relentless. It lashed out with its razor-sharp claws, forcing the mercenaries to dodge and weave to avoid being torn apart. Despite their best efforts, they struggled to land a hit on the creature’s eyes. The monster’s toxic gas was disorienting them, and its unpredictable movements made it difficult to get close enough to strike.

Remillia watched the battle unfold, her mind racing as she assessed the situation. It was clear the mercenaries were outmatched; they lacked the coordination and precision needed to take down such a dangerous foe.

"Focus on its left side!" Remillia shouted, stepping up to take control of the fight. "Draw its attention there, and I’ll handle the rest!"

The mercenaries complied, redirecting their attacks to the Fowlshiet’s left flank. The creature turned its head, baring its left eye as it focused on the new threat. But the mercenaries were struggling—their attacks were too slow, too uncoordinated, and the Fowlshiet quickly began to overpower them.