The Extra is a Hero?-Chapter 291: THE JUMPING PUZZLE
Chapter 287: The Jumping Puzzle
The purple mist below us churned, boiling like a pot of soup left on a high flame.
I stood on the floating root platform, my chest heaving, staring at the back of Ren’s head. The assassin had already turned away, scanning the path ahead as if he hadn’t just tried to murder me.
Danger Intuition was still flashing a red warning in the corner of my vision.
[Threat: High]
[Source: Ren Dover]
My hand hovered over the trigger of the pneumatic grappling hook. I wanted to shoot him. I wanted to put a diamond-tipped claw through his spine and let the acid mist sort him out.
But I couldn’t. Not yet.
We were barely a third of the way across the Chasm. We needed his agility to scout the path. If I started a civil war on a slippery root suspended over a death pit, Leon would try to intervene, and we’d all end up as soup.
"Movement," Ren called out, pointing his dagger at the webbing above us.
I looked up. The "slip"—whether accidental or murderous—had caused a violent sway in the platform. That sway had traveled up the supporting vines, vibrating the massive, translucent webs that anchored the floating islands to the ceiling.
Twang. Twang.
The vibration was rhythmic. And it was being answered.
From the shadows of the ceiling, hundreds of meters above, shapes began to descend. They moved with jerky, unsettling speed, sliding down the silk threads like raindrops on a windowpane.
They were pale, translucent, and horrifyingly leggy.
[Enemy Detected: Drift-Weaver]
[Level: 45]
[Type: Arachnid / Spirit]
[Note: They hunt by sensing vibration in the web.]
"Spiders," Leon groaned, clutching the cable of his grappling hook. "Why did it have to be spiders?"
"They aren’t just spiders," I said, my voice tight. "They’re Drift-Weavers. They spin acid silk. Don’t let them touch you."
One of the creatures, the size of a large dog, dropped onto the platform Leon had just vacated. It hissed, its mandibles dripping with the same purple liquid that filled the chasm. It tapped the wood, sensing our location.
Then it leaped.
"Move!" I shouted.
I fired my grappling hook at the next platform—a rotating chunk of petrified wood about fifteen meters away. The claw bit deep.
"Jump!"
I swung out into the void just as a glob of acidic web splattered the spot where I had been standing. The wood sizzled and dissolved instantly.
I landed hard on the rotating platform, rolling to absorb the momentum. The rotation made me dizzy; the centrifugal force tried to throw me off the edge.
Ren landed beside me a split second later. He didn’t roll. He stuck the landing like a gymnast, his boots finding purchase on a patch of moss.
"They are swarming," Ren noted calmly, throwing a knife.
The silver blade flashed through the air and struck a Weaver mid-jump. The creature screeched and fell into the mist below.
"Leon!" I yelled, looking back.
The Hero was still on the previous platform. A Weaver had landed on his shield, its legs wrapping around the metal.
"Get off!" Leon roared.
He couldn’t swing the hammer—the platform was too unstable. If he shifted his weight too fast, the whole thing would capsize.
He dropped the hammer to the ground (it landed with a heavy thud that surely summoned more spiders) and grabbed the spider with his gauntleted hands.
He ripped it in half.
Green ichor sprayed over his armor.
"Grapple, Leon! Now!"
Leon grabbed the hammer, aimed his launcher, and fired. The hook caught the edge of our rotating platform. He triggered the retraction mechanism.
He didn’t jump; he zipped. The pneumatic winch hauled his heavy frame through the air.
As he flew toward us, a Weaver descended from the web above, aiming to intercept him mid-air.
"Duck!" I shouted.
I didn’t have a gun. I didn’t have a spell.
I threw my canteen.
The metal flask spun through the air and clonked the spider on the head. It wasn’t enough to kill it, but it knocked it off course. The spider missed Leon by inches, its acid-dripping legs grasping at empty air.
Leon crashed onto our platform. The impact stopped the rotation instantly, jarring my teeth.
"Thanks," Leon wheezed, wiping slime from his visor.
"Don’t thank me yet," I said, pointing ahead. "We’re halfway."
The path ahead was a nightmare. The remaining roots were smaller, spaced further apart, and the air was thick with descending spiders. It looked like a rain of white nightmares.
"We can’t fight them all," Ren said, retrieving another knife from his sleeve. "We need to move faster than they can track."
"Agreed," I said. "Leon, take point. Use your shield as an umbrella. Ren, cover the rear. I’ll navigate."
"Me? Point?" Leon asked.
"You’re the tank!" I shoved him toward the edge. "Go!"
Leon gritted his teeth and fired his hook at the next root. He swung across, the Weavers hissing and spitting acid at him. He raised his heavy tower shield, and I heard the sickening hiss-hiss of acid hitting the enchanted metal.
I followed, swinging through the toxic mist. The wind roared in my ears.
Below me, the purple fog seemed to reach up. I saw shapes moving in it—massive, undulating shadows that dwarfed the spiders.
Don’t look down. Look at the rope.
I landed on a narrow strip of root, barely wide enough for two feet. A spider dropped right in front of me.
I didn’t have room to draw my sword.
I kicked it.
[Strength Check: Success]
My boot connected with its face. The spider was launched backward into the abyss.
"Nice kick," Ren said, landing behind me.
"Keep moving!"
We chained the jumps. Swing, land, roll, kick. Swing, land, roll, kick.
It was a rhythm of survival. The Weavers were relentless. They cut our lines; they webbed the platforms. Leon’s shield was smoking, the outer layer of the alloy pitted and scarred by the acid.
"Last jump!" I shouted, spotting the ledge of the Heart-Root Chamber ahead.
It was a long one—twenty-five meters. Too far for a standard jump, even with stats.
"The hook won’t reach the wall!" Leon yelled, gauging the distance. "The angle is too steep!"
I looked around. There was a massive stalactite of root hanging from the ceiling halfway between us and the ledge.
"We swing!" I pointed. "Hook the stalactite, pendulum across, and release at the apex!"
"That’s a circus trick!" Leon yelled.
"It’s physics!"
Leon fired. The hook wrapped around the stalactite. He jumped, screaming a war cry that sounded suspiciously like "Mommy!"
He swung in a massive arc. At the highest point, he unclipped the line.
He sailed through the air, flailing, and crashed onto the solid ground of the far ledge. He rolled, slamming into a wall of moss.
"Safe!" he groaned.
My turn.
I fired. The hook caught. I leaped.
The wind whipped my face. The feeling of weightlessness was terrifying and exhilarating. For a second, I was flying.
I released the clip.
I hit the ledge hard, sliding in the muck.
I turned around instantly.
Ren was the last. He stood on the final floating root, surrounded by three Weavers.
He didn’t fire a hook. He didn’t look for a vine.
He sprinted at the spiders.
"Ren!" Leon shouted.
Ren jumped off the back of one of the spiders, using it as a springboard. He launched himself into the air, spinning. He threw two knives mid-rotation, pinning the other two spiders to the wood.
He soared across the gap. It was impossibly far. He wasn’t going to make it.
I saw his trajectory. He was going to fall short.
"Grab him!" I yelled.
I lunged forward, extending my hand over the edge. Leon did the same.
Ren hit the cliff face below the lip of the ledge. His daggers stabbed into the wood, arresting his fall with a jarring stop. He hung there, fifty feet above the acid mist.
"A little help?" Ren called up, his voice calm.
We grabbed his wrists and hauled him up.
Ren rolled onto the ledge and stood up, brushing dirt from his knees. He looked back at the chasm, where the spiders were screeching in frustration, unable to leave their webs.
"That was... invigorating," Ren said.
I looked at him. The move he had just pulled—using the enemy as a step, the mid-air rotation—that wasn’t a Support Class move. That was a high-level Assassin Art: Phantom Step.
"You cut it close," I said, my voice low.
"Calculated risk," Ren replied, meeting my gaze. "Like you said. Physics."
He smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes.
"We’re clear," Leon said, collapsing against the wall of the tunnel. "We made it. No more jumping. Please, no more jumping."
I checked the map in my head. We were on the threshold of the final zone. The Heart-Root Chamber.
"We rest here," I said, pointing to a small, dry alcove set back from the ledge, protected from the wind and the spiders. "We need to recover stamina before the boss."
We trudged into the alcove. It was warm here, the walls pulsing with a deep, golden light instead of the teal. We were getting close to the source.
Leon dropped the Breaker’s Hammer and slumped against the wall, pulling off his helmet. His hair was plastered to his skull with sweat.
"I’m starving," Leon muttered. "And I think my shield is ruined."
"It held," I said, sitting down opposite him. I kept my distance from Ren.
I pulled out a ration bar—dry, tasteless protein—and tossed it to Leon.
Ren sat near the entrance of the alcove, facing outward. guarding us. Or keeping us trapped.
I watched him.
He took out a small whetstone and began to sharpen his dagger. Scritch. Scritch. Scritch. The sound was rhythmic, hypnotic.
I thought about the "slip" on the platform.
I thought about the diary of the dead Elf.
I thought about the way he moved, the way he spoke, the way he looked at the Rot.
He’s waiting, I realized. He’s waiting for us to get the loot. He can’t clear the boss alone, so he needs Leon to tank and me to strategize. Once the Life Dew is in our hands... that’s when he strikes.
I opened my menu and checked my inventory.
I had weapons. I had potions. I had the diary.
But I needed a trap.
I looked at the map I had drawn on the piece of parchment from the train. It was crude, inaccurate.
"Ren," I said.
The scratching stopped. Ren looked at me. "Yes?"
I pulled a folded piece of paper from my pocket. It wasn’t the map. It was a decoy I had scribbled on earlier, marking a false location for a "Secondary Treasury." 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚
"If anything happens to me in the next room," I said, sliding the paper across the mossy floor toward him. "This is the location of the extraction point. The backup exit."
Ren picked up the paper. He unfolded it. His eyes scanned the fake coordinates.
"Backup exit?" Ren raised an eyebrow. "I wasn’t aware there was one."
"There’s always a backdoor," I said, lying through my teeth. "Guard that map with your life. If we get separated, we meet there."
Ren folded the paper and tucked it into his breast pocket—right over his heart.
"Understood," Ren said. "I will keep it safe."
Good, I thought. Keep it close.
Because that piece of paper wasn’t just paper. I had slipped a small, adhesive Fire Rune sticker between the folds. It was a low-tier trap item, useless for damage, but excellent for a distraction. Or a detonator.
"Get some sleep," I told Leon. "One hour. Then we kill the Golem."
"And then we save the girls," Leon mumbled, his eyes already closing.
"Yeah," I whispered, gripping the hilt of my sword. "Then we save the girls."
I leaned my head back, feigning sleep. But through the cracks of my eyelids, I watched the shadow by the door.
The jumping puzzle was over. The chess game had begun.
(To be Continued)
