The Extra is a Hero?-Chapter 317: THE MASQUERADE
Chapter 313: The Masquerade
The Feast of the Silver Moon was intended to be a solemn, holy gathering to purify the spirits of the Elven nobility before the execution of a traitor.
In reality, it was a dinner party held inside a graveyard.
We stood at the entrance of the Grand Hall, a massive open-air pavilion grown from the living branches of the World Tree. Above us, the artificial sun had dimmed to a twilight purple, and bioluminescent blossoms floated in the air like jellyfish. Long tables made of crystal were laden with fruits that glowed with inner light and wine that shimmered like liquid gold.
"Illusion," I muttered, my [Quantum Analysis Mind] tearing through the glamour.
To the naked eye, it was paradise. To me, the fruit was withered and grey. The wine was thick and sludge-like. The "fragrant" blossoms smelled of sulfur and decay. The nobility sat in their silver silks, laughing and eating rot, blissfully unaware that they were dining on the corpse of their own civilization.
"Smile, Leon," I whispered, nudging the Hero. "You’re on camera."
Leon forced a stiff grimace. He was wearing formal dress robes we had been "gifted" by the guards—white and gold, marking us as high-profile prisoners. Selena stood beside him, wearing a gown of midnight blue that matched her flat, obsidian eyes. She looked like a doll placed on a shelf.
And then there was Maria.
She wore no gown. She wore her modified battle-mage robes, the fabric turning white where it touched her skin. The Frostburn aura around her was suppressed, but barely. She looked like a loaded gun sitting on a velvet cushion.
Elder Valen sat at the High Table, flanked by the Five Council Elders’ empty seats—they rarely attended such "mundane" events—and Captain Aelion, the Commander of the Silver Guard.
"Welcome," Valen’s voice boomed across the hall. "Tonight, we cleanse our spirits. Tomorrow, we cleanse our roots."
The nobles cheered politely.
"The distraction needs to happen now," I murmured to Maria via the [Nova AI] comms channel. "Before they lock the doors for the prayer."
Maria didn’t nod. She simply stood up.
The sound of her chair scraping against the crystal floor was screechingly loud in the sudden silence.
Maria walked toward the High Table. She didn’t walk with the grace of a noble; she walked with the predatory stalking of a winter wolf. The temperature in the hall dropped noticeably. Condensation formed on the crystal goblets.
"Sit down, human!" Captain Aelion barked, standing up. His hand went to the hilt of his sword. "You are a guest. You do not approach the Elders unless summoned."
Maria stopped ten paces from the High Table. She looked Aelion up and down, her matte-blue eyes filled with absolute, freezing contempt.
"A guest?" Maria asked, her voice projecting clearly without magic. "I thought I was a prisoner. Or perhaps a specimen? That is what your guards whispered when they looked at me."
"You are drunk on mana, girl," Aelion sneered. "Return to your seat, or I will have you shackled."
Maria laughed. It was a cold, sharp sound.
"Shackled?" She tilted her head. "By whom? You? The Captain who guards a rotting tree and calls it a god? The Captain whose formation at the gate has three blind spots a novice could exploit?" 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖
Aelion’s face flushed violet. To insult a High Elf’s martial competence in front of the nobility was a death sentence.
"You dare?" Aelion stepped over the table, drawing his blade. It hummed with wind magic. "I demand satisfaction. A duel of honor. First blood."
"First blood?" Maria raised her hand. The air around her shattered into diamond dust.
"Boring," she whispered.
She snapped her fingers.
[Skill: Absolute Zero Flash]
BOOM.
The wine in every goblet in the room didn’t just freeze; it exploded. Shards of red ice sprayed across the nobility like shrapnel. The spectral flowers in the air froze solid and dropped like stones.
"Glacial Wall!" Maria screamed, slamming her staff into the ground.
A massive ridge of jagged ice erupted from the floor, splitting the banquet hall in half. It separated the nobles from the exit, and it trapped Captain Aelion on the side with her.
"I don’t want first blood," Maria hissed, her hair floating in the sudden blizzard she had summoned. "I want a blizzard."
Chaos erupted. Nobles screamed, scrambling over tables. The Silver Guards stationed at the perimeter rushed toward the center, abandoning their posts to protect the Elders.
"Secure the High Table!" Aelion roared, parrying a bolt of ice with his sword. "Kill the witch!"
"Now!" I ordered.
While the eyes of every elf in the room were fixed on the duel between the Ice Witch and the Wind Captain, I pulled the [Mantle of the False Root] from my inventory.
I threw one over Leon and one over Selena. I donned the third.
SHIMMER.
The world went grey. The cloaks didn’t make us invisible to the eye, but they bent the light and, more importantly, masked our mana signatures to match the ambient radiation of the World Tree. To the magical sensors of the palace, we were just three more branches in the wall.
We moved.
We didn’t run—running draws attention. We walked briskly through the panic, weaving between fleeing nobles and rushing guards.
"Excuse me," Leon muttered as he sidestepped a Duchess who was shrieking about her frozen dress.
We reached the side exit—the servants’ passage. It was unguarded. The guards who should have been there were currently trying to hack through Maria’s ice wall.
We slipped into the corridor. The noise of the banquet faded instantly, replaced by the silence of the stone.
"Nova," I whispered. "Route to Archives."
"Calculating..." my AI chirped. "Destination: 500 meters below. Take the service lift to Sub-Level 3."
We sprinted.
The Royal Archives
The entrance to the Royal Archives was not a door. It was a massive circular vault set into the living wood of the World Tree’s trunk. It was guarded by two Iron-Wood Golems—constructs twice the size of a man.
Usually, there would be a squad of Silver Knights here too. But the alarms from the banquet hall were wailing, and we had watched the squad run past us up the stairs just moments ago.
Only the Golems remained.
"They have thermal sensors," Leon whispered, gripping his sword. "The cloaks might not hide our body heat."
"They scan for mana," Selena corrected, her voice void of tension. "The Mantle of the False Root emits the frequency of the Tree. To them, we are simply new growth."
She stepped forward.
"Selena, wait!" Leon hissed.
Selena walked right up to the Golems. The massive wooden constructs creaked, their glowing green eyes scanning her. They paused.
[Scan: Organic Matter]
[Signature: World Tree Resonance]
[Threat: None]
They didn’t move.
Selena turned back to us. "Inefficiency detected in your hesitation, Leon. Proceed."
We walked past the giants. I held my breath, waiting for a crushing blow that never came.
We stood before the Vault Door.
Layer Two: The Mana-Web.
A shimmering grid of blue lasers covered the surface of the wood.
"This is the sensor net," I said. "If I touch this without the key, it vaporizes me."
I pulled out King Elandor’s Signet Ring. I held it up to the central sensor.
HUMMM.
The ring vibrated. The blue lasers turned green, then faded.
[Access Granted: Royal Clearance.]
"Too easy," Leon breathed.
"No," I said, looking at the final lock. "This is the hard part."
Layer Three: The Blood Seal.
In the center of the vault door was a basin made of silver thorns. It was dry and stained with rust-colored residue from centuries past.
"The seal requires the blood of the Veylan lineage," I said. "High King blood. Or..."
"The Usurper’s blood," Selena finished.
She stepped up to the basin.
"Selena," Leon said softly. "You don’t have to—"
"This is the objective, Leon," Selena stated.
She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t wince. She grabbed one of the silver thorns with her bare hand.
SQUELCH.
She squeezed. The thorn pierced her palm, exiting through the back of her hand. Blood—dark, red, and rich with mana—flowed into the basin.
Leon flinched, but Selena’s face remained a mask of indifference. Her heart rate monitor didn’t even spike.
The basin drank the blood.
RUMBLE.
The massive wooden door groaned. The runes on its surface glowed crimson.
[Genetic Match Confirmed.]
[Lineage: Veylan / Malakor.]
[Welcome, Child of the Roots.]
The gears unlocked with a sound like thunder. The vault door slowly swung inward, exhaling a gust of stale, ancient air that smelled of dust and forgotten sins.
Beyond the door lay darkness.
"Nova," I commanded. "Light."
Our wrist-comps flared to life. The beams cut through the dark, revealing endless rows of crystal shelves, stretching down into a spiral abyss.
We were in.
"The Royal Archives," I whispered. "The graveyard of the Elven Truth."
"Search query," Selena said, wrapping a bandage around her bleeding hand with practiced efficiency. "Spirit Gate Location."
"Let’s find it," I said, drawing my dagger. "And let’s hope Maria holds out long enough for us to get out."
(To be Continued)
