The Extra is a Hero?-Chapter 242: THE TAVERN INCIDENT
Chapter 237: The Tavern Incident
The Gilded Tankard was less of a pub and more of a cavernous dining hall carved directly into a stalactite. It was the kind of place where a salad cost more than a peasant’s house and the ale had a higher alcohol percentage than medical disinfectant.
"This meat is... chewy," Gareth complained, sawing at a slab of roasted reptilian steak.
"It’s Rock-Drake," I muttered, stabbing a fork into my potatoes. "You’re supposed to let the acidity of the sauce break it down. You’re eating it like a barbarian."
The Arcadia team was gathered around a massive stone table in the center of the hall. We were exhausted. The gravity in the Ironhold was about 1.2 times normal, which meant simply walking to dinner felt like a low-intensity workout.
Arthur sat at the head of the table, looking regal even while eating. Elara was picking at a mushroom stew, looking pale. The air quality here wasn’t agreeing with the mages.
"Eat up," Arthur commanded. "Tomorrow starts the real training. The gravity chambers are booked for 0600 hours."
A collective groan went around the table.
I kept my head down, focusing on my meal. My mind was still racing from what I’d seen in the smithing district. Nether Iron. A dying King. A coup. I was supposed to be the background character, the guy who claps when the hero wins. Instead, I was sitting on a ticking time bomb that could level the entire continent.
"Well, well. If it isn’t the ’Survivors’."
The noise in the tavern didn’t stop, but it certainly quieted down.
I looked up. Standing near our table was a group of students wearing white and gold uniforms with a blazing sun emblem on the chest.
[Faction: Solaris Blade Academy]
[Specialty: Swordsmanship / Light Magic]
At the front was Rion Blazeheart. He was the quintessential rival character: blonde hair, jawline sharp enough to cut glass, and an ego that probably had its own gravitational pull.
"Rion," Leon said, his voice tightening. He put his fork down slowly. "It’s been a while."
"Not long enough," Rion sneered. He walked closer, his boots clicking on the stone floor. His team fanned out behind him, hands resting casually near the hilts of their rapiers and longswords. "I saw the report from Sky Island. Quite the fairytale. A group of first-years clearing a Rank A dungeon? Please."
He picked up a pitcher of water from our table and inspected it with mock fascination.
"Everyone knows the Headmaster intervened," Rion continued, his voice carrying to the nearby tables where the Imperial Institute and Sanctum students were watching. "Arcadia is desperate for relevance. They had to fabricate a hero story just to keep their funding."
"Watch your mouth," Gareth snapped, half-rising.
"Sit down, rogue," Rion didn’t even look at him. "I’m talking to the ’Hero’." He looked at Leon. "Tell me, Leon. How much did your father pay the faculty to fake your dungeon clear logs?"
The air in the tavern dropped ten degrees.
Leon stood up. The chair scraped loudly against the stone. "Insult me all you want, Rion. But don’t insult my team. And don’t insult the memory of the threats we faced."
"Threats?" Rion laughed. It was a cold, sharp sound. "You wouldn’t know a threat if it beheaded you. You’re a mascot, Leon. A paper tiger."
Rion’s thumb clicked the guard of his sword. The blade slid out an inch. The sound of steel on steel was unmistakable.
Leon’s hand went to the replica Excalibur at his hip.
"Stop," Arthur said, his voice authoritative. "Brawling here leads to disqualification."
"It’s not a brawl if it ends in one strike," Rion smiled, his eyes glowing with mana.
The atmosphere was razor-thin. If they drew steel, we were out of the tournament. The plot required Arcadia to participate. I couldn’t let this idiot derail the entire arc because of a ego trip.
I sighed, wiped my mouth with a napkin, and stood up.
I walked around the table. I didn’t rush. I moved with the sluggish, tired gait of a support student who just wanted to go to bed.
"Excuse me," I said, stepping between Leon and Rion.
Rion looked down at me. "Move, trash. This doesn’t concern the baggage carriers."
"Actually," I said, adjusting my cuffs. "It concerns me greatly. I haven’t finished my potatoes."
Rion blinked. "What?"
I looked him in the eye.
[Skill Activated: Quantum Analysis]
[Target: Rion Blazeheart]
[Analysis: Stance leans heavily on right leg. Previous injury to the MCL. Mana flow in the left shoulder is turbulent due to improper breathing technique.]
"Rion Blazeheart," I said, my voice dropping to a volume that only he and Leon could hear. "Rank 42 Swordsman. You favor the Solar Flash style."
"So you know who I am," Rion scoffed. "Then you know you should move."
"I know that you tore your MCL three months ago," I said calmly.
Rion froze. His eyes widened imperceptibly.
"I know you haven’t fully rehabilitated it," I continued, taking a small step closer, invading his personal space. "And I know that because of that injury, your center of gravity lags by 0.4 seconds when you pivot for a draw-cut."
Rion’s hand twitched on his sword hilt. Sweat beaded on his forehead. "How..."
"If you draw that sword," I whispered, my voice devoid of any emotion, cold as the void, "Leon will parry your strike because you’re slow. But me?"
I let a tiny, microscopic sliver of my true mana leak out. Just a pulse. Like a heartbeat of pure, condensed killing intent directed solely at his neural center.
[Effect: Fear Inducement (Targeted)]
"I’ll shatter your knee before your blade clears the scabbard. And I’ll make it look like you tripped."
Rion flinched. He physically recoiled, his face draining of color. To the onlookers, it looked like he just lost his balance. To him, it felt like a predator had just breathed down his neck.
"You..." Rion stammered. He looked at me—really looked at me—and saw something behind the tired eyes of the extra. He saw the abyss.
"Go away," I said, returning to my normal, bored tone. "We’re eating."
Rion swallowed hard. He looked at Leon, then back at me. The arrogance was gone, replaced by a primal confusion and wariness. He shoved his sword back into the sheath with a loud clack.
"This... isn’t over," Rion muttered, but his voice lacked fire. He signaled his team. "Let’s go. The air in here stinks of cowards."
It was a weak exit line, and everyone knew it. The Solaris team retreated, looking confused by their leader’s sudden change of heart.
I sat back down and picked up my fork.
The table was silent. Gareth was staring at me with his mouth open. Leon looked confused. Even Arthur was eyeing me with a calculating expression.
"Wilson," Leon asked slowly. "What did you say to him?"
I stabbed a potato.
"I told him he had spinach in his teeth," I said. "Very embarrassing for a noble."
Arthur didn’t smile. "You handled that well. But be careful. Rion is vindictive."
"I’m terrified," I deadpanned, chewing my rock-drake.
Under the table, my hand was shaking slightly. Not from fear, but from adrenaline. I had just threatened a main cast member. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺
The plot is definitely changing, I thought. And I’m the one breaking the rails.
I looked across the room. In the shadows of a corner booth, a figure in a dark cloak was watching us. My danger sense tingled.
They weren’t looking at Leon. They were looking at me.
( To be Continued)
