The Extra is a Hero?-Chapter 266: CLAWS AND GRAVITY
Chapter 261: Claws and Gravity
The atmosphere in the Arena of Gods had shifted from excitement to a heavy, suffocating dread.
The Finals weren’t just a sporting event; they were an execution block, and everyone, from the commoners in the nosebleeds to the royals in the VIP boxes, could feel the murderous intent radiating from the Dragonspire team.
The first match had just begun.
"STORM FANG BLITZ!"
Aiden Stromfang was a blur of blue lightning. He moved faster than sound, his body wreathed in electricity that cracked the stone beneath his feet. He wasn’t holding back. He was aiming for the throat.
SHING!
His twin daggers, amplified by high-voltage mana, struck Raxion’s neck.
But instead of blood, there was a metallic screech.
Raxion, the ’Tearer’ of Dragonspire, hadn’t even dodged. He had simply flexed his neck muscles. Dark red scales, hard as diamond, had rippled across his skin in an instant, deflecting the strike.
"Is that it?" Raxion laughed, a guttural sound. "Ticklish."
Aiden’s eyes widened. He tried to backflip away, but Raxion was faster. The Draconian fighter’s hand, now a fully transformed claw, shot out.
SLASH.
Three deep gashes tore across Aiden’s chest, ripping through his uniform and the reinforced undershirt. Blood sprayed into the air.
"AIDEN!" Eric William screamed from the bench, gripping the railing.
Aiden hit the ground, rolling, clutching his chest. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself up. The pain was blinding, but the shame was worse. He glanced up at the VIP box.
His father, Scark Stromfang, was watching. The Wolf Patriarch’s face was a mask of indifference. He didn’t look worried. He looked disappointed.
"I can’t lose," Aiden whispered, blood bubbling in his mouth. "Not like this."
He screamed, channeling every ounce of his remaining mana into a suicidal charge.
[Skill: Thunder God’s Descent]
A massive bolt of lightning struck Aiden, overcharging his nervous system. He vanished, reappearing behind Raxion with a dagger aimed at the base of the skull—the one weak point of Draconian armor.
CLANG.
Raxion’s tail—a thick, scaled appendage hidden until now—whipped around with the force of a wrecking ball. It slammed into Aiden mid-air.
CRACK.
Everyone heard the ribs break.
Aiden was launched across the arena, smashing into the energy barrier. He slid down, unconscious before he hit the floor.
"WINNER: RAXION OF DRAGONSPIRE!"
The crowd was silent. It wasn’t a fight. It was a mauling.
The Royal Box
"Pathetic," Scark Stromfang muttered, leaning back in his chair. "He hesitated. A wolf that hesitates is just a dog."
Next to him, King Thorgar Stoneforge III grunted. The Dwarf King, a living mountain of muscle and beard, tapped his fingers against the armrest. The stone of the armrest cracked under the casual pressure.
"Harsh, Scark," King Thorgar rumbled, his voice like grinding tectonic plates. " The lad showed spirit. That Draconian skin is tougher than Mithril-weave. My smiths would have trouble denting it without a rune-hammer."
"Spirit doesn’t win wars, Thorgar," Scark replied coldly. "Results do."
Queen Helmina Ironbloom, sitting elegantly beside her husband, placed a calming hand on Thorgar’s arm. Her emerald eyes, usually warm, were sharp as she watched the medics carry Aiden away.
"That boy fought with a heavy heart," Helmina observed softly. "He fights for approval, not for victory. That is a heavy armor to wear."
Behind them, the younger royals watched with wide eyes.
Crown Princess Freya Stoneforge leaned forward, her knuckles white as she gripped the railing. "That tail whip... it was faster than the eye could follow. Are all humans this fragile?"
"Not all of them," Prince Dorian whispered, his eyes glued to the Arcadia bench. "Look at the Monarch. He hasn’t moved."
Dorian pointed a chubby finger. Indeed, while the rest of the Arcadia team was rushing to Aiden, Michael Wilson remained seated. He was staring at the Dragonspire bench, his expression unreadable.
"He’s analyzing," Grandmaster Durak Hammerfall grunted from the back, his mechanical golden arm whirring softly as he adjusted a monocle. "That boy... Wilson. He isn’t watching the match. He’s watching the enemy’s breathing patterns. He’s dissecting them."
The Bench
"Is he alive?" Leon asked, his voice tight.
"Broken ribs, severe lacerations, concussion," Michael said, not looking up from his datapad. "But alive. The medics have him."
"Michael!" Eric snapped. "Show some damn empathy! That’s our teammate!"
Michael looked up. His eyes were cold, blue ice.
"Empathy won’t win the next match, Eric. Strategy will." Michael turned to Arthur. "You’re up. Raxion won because of durability. Rygar will try to win with overwhelming force. He uses a Flame Aura that burns oxygen. If you try to out-muscle him, you will pass out from hypoxia."
Arthur Pendragon stood up. He adjusted his gauntlets, the heavy black metal groaning.
"I don’t need oxygen to crush a bug," Arthur said. "I am a Pendragon. We are the pressure."
He walked out. The crowd, sensing the shift in power, began to roar.
"MATCH TWO!"
"THE GRAVITY KING OF ARCADIA VS. THE FLAME EMPEROR OF DRAGONSPIRE!"
Rygar stepped into the ring. He was massive, easily seven feet tall. As he walked, the air around him shimmered. The temperature in the arena spiked instantly.
"Pendragon," Rygar boomed, his voice distorted by heat. "I will melt that armor to your skin."
Arthur didn’t speak. He simply raised his hand.
[Gravity Magic: 10x Field]
BOOM.
The ground around Arthur cracked. Dust was pressed instantly into the floor.
"Begin!"
Rygar roared, and the arena exploded into fire. [Hellfire Domain].
A tsunami of red flame rushed toward Arthur. It was hot enough to turn stone into glass. The crowd screamed, shielding their faces from the heat.
In the VIP box, Princess Runa Ironbloom gasped, covering her mouth. "He’ll be incinerated!"
"Watch closely, little flower," King Thorgar rumbled, his molten amber eyes glowing. "Gravity is the only thing that can weigh down a soul."
Arthur didn’t move. He didn’t dodge. He clenched his fist.
[Gravity: Event Horizon]
The flames didn’t hit him. They bent.
Just like light bending around a black hole, the massive wall of fire curved around Arthur, sucked into a singularity point floating three inches above his palm. The fire swirled, compressed, and was crushed into a tiny, glowing marble of superheated plasma.
Rygar’s eyes bulged. "What—"
"You burn oxygen," Arthur said, his voice calm amidst the chaos. "I control the space the oxygen occupies."
Arthur snapped his fingers.
The gravity field inverted.
[Repulsion Blast]
The compressed fireball was launched back at Rygar with the force of a cannon.
Rygar crossed his arms to block. BOOM!
The explosion sent the giant man skidding back fifty meters, his arm guards shattering. But Rygar was tough. He roared, shaking off the burns, and charged.
"DIE!" Rygar screamed, his fist glowing white-hot.
He closed the distance in a second. His fist, capable of punching through a tank, aimed for Arthur’s helmet.
Arthur stepped in.
[Gravity: Crush]
Arthur placed a hand on Rygar’s chest.
For a second, nothing happened.
Then, the floor beneath Rygar collapsed. It didn’t just break; it pulverized into fine sand. Rygar fell to his knees, vomiting blood. It wasn’t a spell that hit him. It was his own weight, amplified fifty times. His heart struggled to pump blood. His lungs couldn’t expand against his own ribcage.
"Kuh... ah..." Rygar clawed at the ground, the flames on his body flickering out.
Arthur looked down at him.
"You have spirit," Arthur said. "But you lack weight."
Arthur kicked him in the chest.
Rygar flew out of the ring, crashing into the barrier wall with a sickening thud. He didn’t get up.
"WINNER: ARTHUR PENDRAGON!"
"SCORE: 1 - 1"
The stadium erupted. It was a victory of pure dominance.
The Aftermath
Arthur walked back to the bench. He wasn’t celebrating. He was sweating, his face pale. Maintaining that level of gravity control was exhausting.
He sat down next to Michael and began unbuckling his gauntlets.
"I cleared the path," Arthur said, his breath hitching slightly. He looked at Michael. "Don’t trip, Monarch."
Michael handed him a water bottle.
"Rest," Michael said. "You did your job."
Up in the VIP box, the mood had shifted again.
"Magnificent," Grandmaster Durak breathed, stroking his beard with his mechanical hand. "Did you see the rune structure of his gravity spell? He compressed the mana vectors manually. That boy is a genius."
"He is dangerous," King Thorgar corrected. "To wield gravity is to wield the power of the planet itself. Arcadia is breeding monsters this year."
Princess Freya was staring at the screen, her frost-blue eyes wide. She looked from Arthur to the calm figure of Michael Wilson.
"If the subordinate is that strong..." Freya whispered. "Then how strong is the King?"
Prince Dorian tugged on her sleeve. "Freya! Look! Leon is up next!"
Freya’s gaze shifted to the third match. Her breath caught.
Leon Lionheart was walking onto the field. He looked small compared to the monsters that had fought before him. His golden sword looked fragile.
"Be careful, Leon," Freya murmured, her hand unconsciously touching the crystal circlet on her brow.
Opposite him, Chen Wu, the monk from the East, stood in a relaxed stance. He wore no armor, only loose silk robes. He was smiling, but his eyes were dead.
Michael watched Chen Wu closely.
[Quantum Analysis: Active]
Subject: Chen Wu.
Style: Internal Destruction Arts.
Threat Level: High.
Note: The Revive Crystal behind him is flickering.
Michael’s eyes narrowed. He tapped his earpiece.
"Judges," Michael said into the comms channel. "Check the crystal on the East side. The mana frequency is off."
"Negative, contestant," the referee’s voice crackled back. "Systems are green. Proceed."
Michael scowled. They were ignoring him.
"Leon," Michael’s voice was low, dangerous. "Listen to me."
Leon turned back before stepping into the ring.
"Do not let him touch your chest," Michael ordered. "And do not rely on the judges to save you. You are on your own."
Leon nodded, his face setting into a grim line.
"I know," Leon said. "I’m ready."
He stepped into the arena.
The Lion was walking into the den.
(End of Chapter 261)
