The Extra is a Hero?-Chapter 276: THE ONLY CURE
Chapter 271: The Only Cure
The medical car of the Iron-Horse was a tomb of silence, broken only by the rhythmic clack-clack-clack of the wheels against the deep-earth rails. The air smelled of ozone, blood, and the sterile cold of the stasis pods.
Leon Lionheart stood over one of the pods. His hands were gripping the metal rim so hard that the adamantite was groaning, warping under his strength. Inside the glass, floating in the suspension fluid, was Selena Veylan. She looked peaceful, but her skin was the color of ash.
"System," Leon whispered, his voice cracking. "Shop. Open Shop."
A holographic screen that only he could see flickered into existence. His eyes darted frantically across the rows of items.
Potion of Greater Healing? No. Physical wounds only.
Elixir of Mana Restoration? No.
Phoenix Feather? Revives the recently dead. She wasn’t dead. She was... fading.
"Damn it!" Leon roared, punching the metal wall of the train car. The impact left a massive dent. "Damn this System! Damn being a Hero! What is the point of all these points if I can’t save her?!"
He slid down the wall, burying his face in his hands. The Hero was broken.
Across the car, the adults were huddled around the second pod, where Maria Frostheart floated.
Elara Moonshade, the Elven exchange student and team healer, was running her glowing hands over the diagnostic runes. Tears were streaming down her face, dripping onto the floor.
"Speak, child," King Elandor of Denmard demanded. His voice was trembling, a stark contrast to his usual regal composure. He clutched Queen Lirien’s hand so tight his knuckles were white. "What is the affliction?"
Elara pulled her hands back as if burned. She looked up, her eyes filled with a terrifying certainty.
"It is not a poison, Your Majesty," Elara whispered. "It is the Curse of the Hollow Dream."
Queen Lirien let out a strangled sob and collapsed into a chair. King Elandor staggered back, his face draining of color.
"The Hollow Dream..." Deiman Frostheart repeated, his voice dangerously quiet. "The Soul-Eater curse of the Demon General Lilith. It puts the soul into a labyrinth from which it cannot wake. The body... simply forgets to live."
"There is a cure, surely," Crown Princess Freya Stoneforge stepped forward, her arm in a sling. "The Royal Vaults of the Dwarves hold many artifacts."
"No," Elara shook her head, wiping her eyes. "Standard restoration magic feeds the curse. It consumes mana to grow stronger. The only thing that can counter a Void-based curse of this magnitude is Pure Life Energy imbued with Divine Power."
"Pure Life Energy?" Scark Stromfang growled from the corner. "Like a World Tree leaf?"
"Stronger," Elara said hopelessly. "A leaf is finite. We need a source. A wellspring. And such a thing does not exist in the human realms."
Silence descended on the car. It was the silence of a death sentence.
In the corner, Michael Wilson sat on the floor. He wasn’t crying. He wasn’t raging. He was cleaning his glasses.
He looked at Maria’s pod. He remembered the first time he met her—arrogant, cold, full of life. Now, she was a statue. He felt a cold knot in his stomach. It wasn’t just plot deviation. It was loss.
Pure Life Energy. Divine Power.
The words triggered a memory. Not a memory of this world, but of the game.
In The Era of Gods, there was a hidden side-quest in the Elven Kingdom arc. A quest that 99% of players missed because it required finding a hidden path in the World Tree’s roots. The reward was a consumable item that players usually hoarded and never used.
[Item: Life Dew]
[Rank: Legendary]
[Effect: Fully restores HP/MP, cures all status ailments (including Curse), and permanently expands Life Force.]
Michael stopped cleaning his glasses. He put them on. The world sharpened.
He stood up. The movement drew the attention of the room.
"There is a thing," Michael said. His voice was calm, cutting through the despair like a knife.
He walked to the center of the car, standing between the two pods. He looked at King Elandor, then at Deiman Frostheart, and finally at King Thorgar, who sat heavily on a reinforced bench, his armor scorched from the battle.
"It is present in the Elven Kingdom," Michael stated. He turned his gaze to Elara. "Elara, you are of the Moonshade lineage. You should know the legends. The Life Dew."
The reaction was immediate.
King Elandor’s head snapped up. "Life Dew? The Tears of the First Tree?"
Elara’s eyes widened in shock. "Monarch... where did you hear that name?"
"Does it exist?" Deiman Frostheart stepped forward, grabbing Elara’s shoulder. "Answer him, girl! Does it exist?"
Elara flinched, looking between the intense gazes of the patriarchs. "It... it is a myth! A bedtime story told to children in Eldoria! They say the World Tree weeps a single drop of dew once every thousand years, capable of curing death itself. But no one has seen it in centuries! The High Priestess denies its existence!"
"It is just a story," Elara finished, shaking her head. "We cannot stake their lives on a fairy tale."
"It is not a fairy tale," Michael said.
He stepped closer to Elara, his [Mindbreaker] title flaring invisibly, creating an aura of absolute conviction.
"It exists," Michael lied—or rather, told a truth he shouldn’t know. "I have read the texts from the Pre-War Era. The texts your High Priestess hides. It is located in the Heart of the World Tree."
"The Heart?" Queen Lirien gasped. "That is forbidden ground! Even the King cannot enter the Root Chamber without the Oracle’s blessing! It is death to trespass!"
"Then we trespass," Michael said simply.
"You are insane," Deiman Frostheart sneered. "You want to drag my dying daughter halfway across the continent to break into a sacred Elven temple based on a hunch? No. The Frostheart healers are the best in the world. We will freeze the curse. We will buy time."
"Freezing it won’t stop it," Michael countered, his voice dropping to a chill that matched Deiman’s. "It will just slow the fade. She will die, Deiman. In thirty days, her soul will be hollowed out, and you will be left with a beautiful, empty husk."
Deiman recoiled as if slapped. The Anvil King, Thorgar, watched the exchange, his amber eyes glowing.
Michael turned to King Elandor. "Your Majesty. You know the politics of your court better than I do. Will the High Priestess give you the Dew willingly?"
Elandor looked down, his face pained. "The Priesthood... they believe suffering is the will of nature. They would not give a sacred artifact to save two students. Even a Princess."
"Then we take it," Michael said. "Prepare the map, Elara. We are going to Eldoria."
"I forbid it!" Deiman roared. "I am taking Maria North!"
Michael stepped directly into Deiman’s personal space. The air pressure in the car dropped.
"If you take her North, you bury her," Michael said. "If she comes with me, she wakes up. Those are your choices."
Deiman stared into Michael’s black-rimmed glasses. He saw no doubt. No hesitation. Only the cold calculation of a monster who knew he was right.
"Let the boy go," a deep voice rumbled.
King Thorgar Stoneforge III stood up. He groaned, clutching his side where his armor was melted, but his presence filled the room.
"Thorgar?" Deiman frowned.
"I saw him in the arena," Thorgar grumbled, limping forward to stand beside Michael. "I saw him face the Void. He does not gamble, Deiman. If he says the Dew exists, then by the Anvil, I believe it exists."
Thorgar looked at Michael.
"You saved my daughter," Thorgar said. "You saved my Kingdom’s future. If you say you can save them... then go."
Deiman looked at the Dwarf King, then at his daughter’s pale face. He clenched his jaw until a tooth cracked.
"Thirty days," Deiman whispered. "You have thirty days, Wilson. If she dies... I will hunt you down."
"If she dies," Michael adjusted his glasses, "I’ll let you."
(TO BE CONTINUED)
