The Extra is a Hero?-Chapter 270: ASHES AND CONFETTI
Chapter 265: Ashes and Confetti
The trophy was heavy—a massive block of pure adamantite, carved into the shape of the Ironhold, with the crest of the Dwarf Kingdom inlaid in gold. Arthur Pendragon held it aloft, his muscles straining not from the weight, but from the sheer exhaustion of the tournament.
"CHAMPIONS! ARCADIA ACADEMY!"
The announcer’s voice boomed, though it sounded tinny compared to the thunderous applause of the fifty thousand spectators in the stands. Confetti cannons fired from the rim of the stadium, filling the air with a blizzard of gold and silver paper.
Michael Wilson stood at the back of the group, near the edge of the podium. He wasn’t smiling. He was watching the confetti fall.
He caught a piece in his gloved hand.
It didn’t flutter. It crumbled.
It wasn’t paper. It was grey, flaky ash.
"Leon," Michael said, his voice low but urgent.
Leon Lionheart was waving to the crowd, his golden armor dented but shining. He turned, beaming, high on the victory. "What’s up, Mike? We did it! We actually—"
"Look at the sky," Michael ordered.
Leon looked up. The artificial blue sky of the Bio-Dome, usually perfectly calibrated, was bleeding. The blue was draining away, replaced by a sickly, bruised purple. The "clouds" were turning into swirling vortexes of black smoke.
"A system glitch?" Eric William asked, squinting up at the dome.
"No," Michael drew Draken, the sound of the blade ringing clearly in the sudden hush of his team. "An invasion."
The VIP Royal Box
The box was crowded with the most powerful individuals on the continent.
King Thorgar Stoneforge III sat on his throne, clapping with hands that created shockwaves. But his amber eyes were wary.
To his right sat the Human Patriarchs:
Denish William, leaning back with an air of boredom, checking his pocket watch.
Deiman Frostheart, sipping ice-wine, his eyes fixed proudly on his daughter, Maria.
Scark Stromfang, the Wolf Lord, who was currently leaning over the railing, sniffing the air with a deep frown.
To his left sat the Royal Family of Denmard, the High Elves:
King Elandor, radiant in silver robes, looking down at Selena with a rare, warm smile.
Queen Lirien, her hair like spun moonlight, clasping her hands together. She whispered to her husband, "She has grown strong, Elandor. She stood beside the Lion."
"They have earned the steel," Thorgar rumbled. "That Wilson boy... he frightens me. But the Kingdom needs monsters right now."
"He is efficient," Deiman Frostheart nodded, placing his glass down. "He utilized Maria perfectly. I approve."
"Something smells..." Scark Stromfang growled, the fur on his coat bristling. "Like rot. Like old blood."
Queen Lirien of Denmard suddenly stiffened. The flowers woven into her gown withered instantly, turning brown and brittle.
"The mana..." Lirien gasped, clutching King Elandor’s arm. "It screams."
Crown Princess Freya Stoneforge, standing behind her father, pointed a trembling finger at the shadows in the back of the box.
"Father! The diplomat!"
Thorgar spun around.
Standing in the corner, ignored by the guards, was the woman who had been introduced as an envoy from the Southern Isles. She had been silent for hours.
Now, she stepped forward.
Her disguise melted away like wax near a furnace. The diplomatic robes dissolved into revealing armor made of black leather and bone. Her human ears sharpened into points. Her skin turned a pale, corpse-like white. From her back, leathery wings unfolded, knocking over a table of wine.
[Entity Identified: Demon General Lilith]
[Rank: S (Disaster Class)]
[Affinity: Curse / Soul Manipulation]
"A beautiful ceremony," Lilith purred. Her voice wasn’t loud, yet it echoed in the minds of everyone in the stadium. "But it lacks... tragedy."
"GUARDS!" Thorgar roared, reaching for Mjolnir.
"Too slow, little King," Lilith smiled. She raised a finger with a perfectly manicured black nail.
She didn’t point at the King. She didn’t point at the strong fighters like Michael or Arthur.
She pointed down at the podium. Specifically, at the back row.
"Break the heart," Lilith whispered. "And the body will fall."
A beam of sickly pink light shot from her finger. It wasn’t a projectile; it was a curse made manifest. It moved faster than lightning, ignoring the barriers, ignoring the distance.
___________
"MOVE!" Michael screamed.
He activated [Flash Step], throwing himself toward the back line.
But he was too far. The beam wasn’t aimed at him.
It struck two people standing next to each other, smiling and holding their bouquets.
Maria Frostheart.
Selena Veylan.
Hit.
There was no explosion. No blood.
The two girls simply gasped. Their eyes rolled back into their heads instantly. The flowers dropped from their hands.
Thump. Thump.
They collapsed onto the adamantite podium, limp as ragdolls.
The VIP Royal Box
"MARIA!"
The scream tore from Deiman Frostheart’s throat. The Lord of Ice, known for his emotionless demeanor, shattered his wine glass. A wave of uncontrolled ice magic exploded from him, freezing the railing instantly.
"SELENA!" Queen Lirien shrieked, her elven composure shattering. King Elandor drew his thin, silver blade in a blur of motion, his face twisted in horror.
"My daughter!" Elandor roared, preparing to leap over the railing.
"HOLD, ELANDOR!" Thorgar commanded, stepping in front of the Elven King. "The barrier is inverted! You will kill yourself if you jump!"
Denish William stood up, his face pale. He looked down at Eric, who was safe, but then at the fallen girls. "This... this is an act of war."
"They targeted the heirs," Scark Stromfang snarled, his eyes turning yellow. "They want to cripple the families."
____________
The Arena 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢
Down on the podium, Leon froze. He stared at the two fallen girls, his mind unable to process the shift from victory to horror.
"Wake up," Leon whispered, dropping his sword. He fell to his knees beside Selena, shaking her shoulders. "Selena? Hey, this isn’t funny. Your parents are watching. Wake up."
She didn’t move. Her skin was turning grey. Frost began to form on her eyelashes—not her ice magic, but the cold of death.
Michael skidded to a halt beside them. He placed a hand on Maria’s neck.
[Skill: Quantum Analysis Mind]
[Status: Soul Severed (Partial)]
[Curse: The Endless Sleep]
[Time until permanent death: 4 hours]
"They aren’t dead," Michael said, his voice devoid of emotion, though the air around him began to vibrate. "But they aren’t here anymore."
"What do you mean?!" Leon shouted, tears streaming down his face. "Fix them, Michael! You have potions! You have tricks!"
"This isn’t a wound, Leon," Michael stood up slowly. "It’s a harvest."
He looked up at the VIP box. Lilith was laughing, spreading her wings as the Royal Guards rushed her.
"The Gate is opening," Michael said.
Lilith snapped her fingers.
RIIIIIIP.
The sound came from the center of the arena floor, directly beneath the podium where the students stood.
The adamantite split open. Purple light erupted from the chasm.
[Warning: Dimensional Breach Detected]
[Demon Realm Gate: Opening]
From the abyss, they came. Not one or two monsters. Thousands.
Gargoyles poured out like a swarm of bats. Lower demons—red-skinned, horned, wielding jagged weapons—clambered over the edge of the pit.
"DEFENSIVE FORMATION!" Arthur Pendragon roared, kicking the trophy off the podium. "PROTECT THE FALLEN!"
The Arcadia team snapped into action.
Varkas slammed his shield down, creating a wall in front of Maria and Selena. Eric William, shaking but determined, stood back-to-back with a commoner mage, firing light bolts into the swarm.
"Leon!" Michael grabbed the protagonist by the collar and hauled him up. "Stop crying. If you want to save them, you have to kill everything that comes out of that hole."
Leon looked at Selena’s pale face. He looked up at the VIP box where he could see Queen Lirien weeping.
Something inside him snapped.
The golden aura that usually surrounded him turned a violent, blinding white.
"RAAAAAAAH!"
Leon charged. He didn’t use technique. He didn’t use strategy. He leaped off the podium, diving straight into the swarm of demons climbing out of the pit.
It was a massacre. Leon was a whirlwind of holy fire. Every swing cleaved three demons in half. He was screaming, a primal sound of rage and heartbreak.
But Michael didn’t join him.
Michael stood over the bodies of the girls. He closed his eyes for a second.
[Skill Activated: Mindbreaker]
When he opened them, the blue glow was gone. His eyes were black voids.
A sphere of absolute terror expanded from him. It wasn’t magic; it was pure killing intent. The demons that approached the podium froze, their instincts screaming at them to run away from the boy in the glasses.
"Arthur," Michael said. His voice was quiet, but it cut through the noise of the battlefield. "Take command. Get the team to the tunnel."
"Where are you going?" Arthur parried a gargoyle’s claw.
"I’m going to clear a path," Michael said.
He drew Draken.
"And I’m going to make them regret opening that door."
___________
The VIP Box Battle
King Thorgar was fighting a war in his own living room.
Lilith floated above the chaos, raining curses down on the Royal Family. Thorgar deflected them with Mjolnir, each impact shaking the stadium foundation.
"Your kingdom burns, Dwarf!" Lilith laughed.
"My kingdom is made of iron!" Thorgar roared. [Divine Art: Mountain’s Wrath]. Stalagmites of red-hot rock erupted from the floor, impaling the demons swarming the box.
Scark Stromfang had transformed. He was now a seven-foot werewolf, ripping gargoyles apart with his bare hands. "Get off me, filth!"
Deiman Frostheart was a storm of ice. He stood in front of the exit, freezing any demon that tried to enter. "You will not touch my family!" he bellowed, his composure gone.
King Elandor fought with the grace of a dancer, his silver sword humming, but his eyes were filled with tears as he looked down at the arena floor where his daughter lay motionless.
"Durak!" Thorgar shouted. "Get the guests out! Use the Royal Train!"
"But the blockade!" Durak argued, smashing a demon’s skull with his golden arm.
"BREAK IT!" Thorgar commanded. "I will hold the line here!"
Thorgar looked at Queen Helmina. "Go, Helmina! Take Freya and Dorian! Take the Elven Queen!"
Helmina gritted her teeth, grabbing Queen Lirien, who was practically catatonic with grief. "Come, Lirien! We must save who we can!"
________________
The Rearguard
Down in the arena, the demon numbers were infinite.
"We can’t hold this!" Aiden screamed, his lightning faltering.
"Move back!" Arthur ordered. "To the South Tunnel!"
Varkas carried Maria. Eric carried Selena. They moved as a phalanx, cutting through the horde.
Michael walked at the rear. He was a reaper. Every step was a kill. Step. Slash. Step. Stab.
They reached the tunnel entrance.
"Get them on the train!" Michael ordered, shoving Varkas through the gate.
"Michael! Leon!" Arthur shouted from the tunnel. "Come on!"
Michael stopped. He looked back at the arena.
Leon was still in the center, surrounded by a mountain of corpses, swinging wildly. He was exhausted, bleeding, and surrounded.
"Idiot," Michael muttered.
He turned to Arthur.
"Get the train moving. We’ll catch up."
"Michael, don’t—"
Michael slammed the gate shut, locking Arthur and the team inside the safety of the tunnel.
He turned back to the horde.
"Nox," Michael whispered.
The Wyrmling emerged from his shadow, growing to the size of a tiger.
"Go get the Hero. Drag him if you have to."
Michael raised Draken. The black aura flared, mixing with the purple sky.
"Hey! Ugly!" Michael shouted at the swarm of ten thousand demons.
Thousands of red eyes turned to him.
Michael adjusted his glasses.
"Round Two."
(End of Chapter 265)
