Transmigrating as an Extra, But the Heroine Has Regressed?!-Chapter 329: Solo Dungeon Part 2.

Kael entered alone.

The heavy stone door behind him closed with a dull, final thud, sealing the outside world away as if it had never existed. For a moment, absolute silence reigned. Then—

Grrrrr…

Low growls rippled through the darkness like distant thunder.

Inside the dungeon, shadows clung to the walls, thick and unnatural, as if they were alive.

The air was damp and cold, carrying the scent of iron, rot, and something far older.

Dim crimson crystals embedded in the stone flickered faintly, offering just enough light to reveal twisted shapes crawling along the floor and walls.

The first level greeted him with distorted figures emerging from the darkness.

There were demons.

Small, hunched creatures with cracked black skin, glowing yellow eyes, and mouths filled with uneven fangs.

Some crawled on all fours, others dragged broken limbs behind them, yet all moved with a shared hunger.

They were weak ones.

But there were many.

Too many.

Kael exhaled slowly, steadying his breathing. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword.

"So this is it…" he muttered.

The first demon lunged without warning.

It screeched sharply, claws slicing through the air. Kael reacted on instinct—he stepped aside, narrowly avoiding the attack, and swung his blade in a wide arc.

Slash.

The sword cut through the demon's neck, but not cleanly. Black blood sprayed across the stone floor as the creature collapsed, twitching violently before going still.

Another demon leapt at him.

Then another.

Kael moved again, sidestepping, blocking, slashing—his movements were fast but rough.

There was no elegance, no grace in his combat. Every strike was driven by survival rather than mastery.

The fight was ugly.

No clean kills.

No flashy techniques.

Steel clashed against claws. Kael's blade chipped against the hardened demon bone.

He grunted as one creature scraped its talons across his arm, tearing through cloth and skin.

Pain flared, but he ignored it.

He hasn't used any of his skills yet.

There was no point.

These demons were weak individually, but they came in endless waves. If he wasted mana now, he wouldn't last long.

"I'll save it," he thought grimly. "I need endurance more than power."

Minutes blurred into hours.

His breathing grew heavy. Sweat soaked his clothes.

His arms burned with fatigue, yet still the demons kept coming. Kael adjusted his stance, leaning more on efficient movements—short slashes, quick thrusts, precise footwork.

Slowly, painfully, the horde thinned.

The final demon let out a broken shriek before Kael drove his sword through its skull. The body collapsed, dissolving into black mist that faded into nothingness.

Silence returned.

The dungeon trembled slightly.

At the far end of the chamber, a massive stone door groaned as ancient mechanisms activated.

Slowly, it slid open on its own.

A faint, emotionless voice echoed through the chamber.

[Level Cleared]

Kael stared at the open door for a few seconds, then leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees.

"…That was just the first level."

He wiped demon blood from his blade and stepped forward.

Hours passed.

Level after level.

Each floor followed the same cruel pattern—darkness, demons, relentless combat.

Some levels had narrow corridors, forcing Kael to fight in cramped spaces. Others were wide halls filled with pillars where demons ambushed him from every direction.

His body adapted.

His movements became sharper.

But fatigue accumulated like poison.

By the end of the first day—

Kael collapsed against a stone wall.

Only five levels were cleared.

He slid down slowly until he was sitting on the cold floor, sword slipping from his grasp and clattering beside him. His chest burned with every breath, lungs screaming for air.

His arms were numb, fingers trembling uncontrollably.

"…Pathetic," he whispered.

His voice echoed faintly.

He remembered how confident he had been before entering. How certain he was that sheer will alone would be enough.

But reality was merciless.

He reached into his pack with shaky hands and pulled out the packed food he had bought—hard bread, dried meat, and a small flask of water.

It was not enough.

Not for this place.

Still, he ate.

He forced himself to chew slowly, even as his stomach protested. He ate many mouthfuls, conserving what little energy he had left.

"That's all I have…upto seven days" he murmured. "I'll have to make it last."

That night—if it could be called night—he set up a small fire using a fire crystal he had purchased earlier.

The flame flickered weakly, casting dancing shadows across the dungeon walls.

Kael rested his sword on the other side of him, within arm's reach.

He stared into the fire, thoughts swirling in his mind.

"Does the demon use mana?" he asked himself quietly.

He replayed the fights in his head, analyzing every movement. The demons attacked endlessly, but he hadn't sensed any mana fluctuations like those of mages or beasts that used skills.

"…No," he concluded. "They're pure physical entities. Or maybe corrupted ones."

His gaze hardened.

"What are the rewards of this dungeon?" he muttered.

"But… whether there are rewards or not, I am just here to become strong."

Strength was the only thing that mattered.

As he rested, something changed.

The dungeon shifted.

The shadows around him stretched unnaturally, lengthening and twisting as if alive. The fire dimmed, its light swallowed by darkness.

Kael's heart tightened.

"…What now?"

Then—

The illusion began.

The walls dissolved.

The dungeon faded.

He found himself standing in a familiar place.

A city.

Tall buildings made of steel and glass. Flickering lights. Crowded streets filled with voices, horns, and footsteps.

His past life.

The world he came from.

Kael's breath caught in his throat.

He saw faces.

People he had known.

Family members he had disappointed.

And then— 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

Moments of failure.

A hand slipping from his grasp.

A scream echoing in his ears.

A choice he hadn't made.

Again and again, the scenes replayed, relentless and merciless.

"Stop…" Kael whispered.

But the illusion did not listen.

"You always hesitated," a voice said.

He turned.

A shadow figure stood in the distance, its form shifting and indistinct, eyes glowing faintly in the darkness.

"You came," it said, its voice echoing strangely, layered and hollow.

Kael clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms.

He didn't respond.

"The mission is simple," the figure continued calmly. "Clear the demons. Survive the levels. Face yourself."

The words struck deeper than any blade.

(that is why no heroes ever come in this dungeon) he thought.

Kael slowly straightened, gripping his sword as if anchoring himself to reality.

"…Then stop talking," he said quietly, voice firm despite the storm inside him. "And let me work."

For a moment, the shadow stared at him.

Then it smiled.

Simply knowingly.

And vanished.

The illusion shattered like glass.

Kael found himself back in the dungeon, sitting beside the dying fire, his heart racing.

"That was an illusion…" he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "But somehow… I felt it was true."

He exhaled deeply.

"Before moving to the next dungeon level, I must regain my mana and take a good rest."

So he sat near the fire and crossed his legs.

He closed his eyes.

And began to meditate.

One hour passed.

He focused on his breathing, feeling mana slowly circulate within his body. It was sluggish, like a tired river, but gradually it responded.

After that, he pulled out a small vial.

A potion of mana regeneration.

He uncorked it and drank the bitter liquid in one gulp, grimacing as it burned its way down his throat.

Soon, warmth spread through his core.

Time passed strangely in the dungeon.

There was no sun.

No moon.

Yet somehow, Kael knew—

It was the next day.

"Yesterday I could only clear five levels," he said to himself as he stood. "Which means if I clear five levels every day, I can clear only thirty-five levels."

His jaw tightened.

"I should double my effort."

He clenched his fists.

"The time given is seven days… so what might happen if I can't complete the dungeon?"

The thought lingered ominously.

He shook his head.

"Let's move. For now."

Kael stepped forward, deeper into the dungeon.

His mind wavered, exhaustion gnawing at the edges of his consciousness.

But his will—

Did not.

Meanwhile—

In the mana class.

Sunlight streamed through tall academy windows, illuminating rows of desks filled with students.

Magical symbols floated in the air as the instructor lectured about mana circulation techniques.

"…As you can see," the instructor said, tapping the board, "mana density affects spell stability."

Cecelia sat near the middle of the classroom.

Her eyes drifted to the empty seat beside her.

Again.

Kael's seat.

Her fingers tightened around her pen.

"He still hasn't come…" she thought.

Elysia entered the classroom quietly after three days absent, her presence drawing a few glances.

She took her seat near the window.

Cecelia hesitated, then leaned over.

"Elysia," she whispered. "Do you know where Kael is?"

Elysia's gaze flickered briefly toward the empty seat.

"…No," she replied softly. "But I have a feeling he's somewhere far."

Cecelia swallowed.

"I hope he's okay."

Elysia looked out the window, sunlight reflecting in her eyes.

"So do I," she murmured.

(just why are you always thinking about him when i couldn't come to academy for three days) Elysia thought.