Extra's Revenge: Reincarnated As A Slave-Chapter 95: BOOM!

WHOOSH!!!

The ten Champions closed in from all directions, their killing intent palpable.

The Lightning Fist’s gauntlets sparked with electrical discharge. The Shadow Dancer’s form flickered, preparing to strike from an unexpected angle. The Iron Giant raised his massive war hammer, ready to crush Rey into the arena sand.

"FIGHT!"

"KILL HIM!"

"RIP HIM APART!"

The crowd’s cheers reached a fever pitch, thousands of voices blending into a single roar of bloodlust.

Rey stood in the center of the converging circle, broken and bleeding, a smile playing across his lips.

"It’s about time..." He whispered, too quietly for anyone to hear over the crowd. "I hope you have all enjoyed yourselves."

His hand moved to the spatial belt, fingers closing around a small crystalline trigger—having a similar appearance to the one type he’d used before in the Desgarron Manor.

The Champions were ten feet away.

Eight feet.

Six feet.

Five.

Rey activated the trigger.

Four.

For a single heartbeat, nothing happened.

Three.

The Duke watched.

Two.

Rey smiled.

One.

Then—

BOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!

—The world exploded.

*****

A glorious eruption!

The detonations began beneath the arena floor, where Rey’s three automatons had spent the last several hours methodically placing every remaining explosive Scroll and Ether Stone from the Desgarron vaults.

Not just in one location, but throughout the entire Coliseum structure—load-bearing walls, support columns, the foundations themselves.

Rey had transported them close to the incinerator, where he had awakened as a Soulless.

They had even begun their work before he infiltrated the Coliseum himself.

The automatons had continued their work while Rey killed the guards and waited for the Duke.

They were still operational when he fought in the observation chamber.

Even while Duke Kahn gathered his audience.

While the crowd placed their bets.

Tireless mechanical servants executing their master’s final command, rigging the entire building for catastrophic destruction.

And now, all of it activated simultaneously.

BOOOOOOM!

The arena floor erupted upward in a column of fire and force that vaporized the ten Champions before they could even register the threat.

The Lightning Fist, the Shadow Dancer, the Iron Giant—all of them ceased to exist in an instant, their bodies consumed by temperatures that exceeded the surface of stars.

The explosion didn’t stop there.

It spread outward and upward in a cascading chain reaction, each placed charge triggering the next.

High-Sequence Spirit Art Scrolls, High-Sequence Null Art disruptions, and all kinds of Curses—all of them releasing their stored power at once.

The lower viewing tiers disintegrated.

Thousands of spectators died without even understanding what was happening, their bodies pulverized by the shockwave or consumed by mystical flames that burned through stone and flesh with equal ease.

The support columns failed.

Massive sections of the upper structure began to collapse, crushing thousands more under tons of falling stone.

Null Art disruptions created zones where reality itself became unstable. People caught in these zones simply ceased to exist, erased from the world as thoroughly as if they’d never been born.

The explosion continued to expand, feeding on the Ether-rich environment of the Coliseum.

Every enchantment, every protective ward, every magical enhancement built into the structure over decades—all of it became fuel for the conflagration.

The noise was beyond description.

Not just sound, but a physical force that shattered eardrums and liquefied internal organs. Those not killed by fire or falling debris died from the sheer acoustic trauma.

In the luxury boxes, Nobles died alongside commoners. Wealth and status meant nothing to the indiscriminate destruction.

Their protective Artifacts and personal barriers failed under the overwhelming assault, and they perished screaming, their final moments spent in the same terror as the poorest spectators in the highest tiers.

The bookmakers, still clutching their money from the bets, burned with their ledgers.

The vendors, selling food and drink to the crowd, were buried under collapsing stone.

The guards, positioned throughout the structure to maintain order, found no escape as every exit became a death trap of falling debris and mystical fire.

Thousands died in the first thirty seconds.

Tens of thousands more in the minute that followed, as the Coliseum’s structure continued its catastrophic failure.

The building that had stood for over a century, that had seen countless battles and executions, that had been a symbol of power and entertainment in the city—it came apart like a house of cards in a hurricane.

But high above the destruction, Duke Kahn survived.

His levitation platform had its own barrier system—a Grade 7 defensive Artifact that activated automatically the moment danger was detected.

The barrier formed a perfect sphere around him, absorbing the initial shockwave and deflecting the worst of the mystical flames.

But even Grade 7 defenses had limits.

The barrier didn’t hold, and in fact the Duke had to resort to his own Ancient MajiK.

However, although his new defenses held, due to his hurried use of that power, some of the force transmitted through it still reached him.

He felt ribs crack from the pressure.

Blood ran from his nose and ears.

His internal organs took damage from the sustained assault on his protective field.

Pain exploded through his body, but he remained conscious, suspended in his protective sphere above the disintegrating Coliseum.

He quickly recovered, healing rapidly as though there were no injuries to worry about.

Then—

’This is... how can this be?’

Through the barrier’s translucent surface, Duke Kahn watched his investment, his empire, his carefully constructed profit machine—all of it reduced to rubble and corpses in a matter of minutes.

"No," he whispered, the word lost in the roar of continuing explosions. "No, no, NO!"

His eyes scanned the devastation frantically, searching for the cause, searching for the one responsible.

And there, in the center of where the arena had been—barely visible through the smoke and fire—Duke Kahn saw a body.

Rey’s body.

Or what remained of it.

The corpse was caught in the epicenter of the explosion, already disintegrating from the mystical fires that consumed everything. But Duke Kahn’s enhanced vision could still make out enough details to recognize who it had been.

Understanding hit the Duke like a physical blow.

"He did this," Duke Kahn breathed, his voice shaking with fury and disbelief. "He planned this. The infiltration, the fight, letting himself be transported here—it was all deliberate. He sacrificed himself just to destroy everything!"

The realization was almost incomprehensible.

What kind of person would orchestrate their own death just for revenge? What level of hatred drove someone to trade their life simply to inflict maximum damage?

Duke Kahn had dealt with assassins, with terrorists, with fanatics of every stripe.

But this was different.

This was revenge elevated to an art form, spite refined into a weapon capable of destroying an empire.

Rey had known he couldn’t win a straight fight against the Champions, couldn’t escape the Coliseum once trapped, couldn’t kill Duke Kahn through direct assault.

So he’d done the one thing Duke Kahn had never anticipated—he’d turned his own death into the ultimate weapon.

’How did he even get the resources? Could he have taken advantage of the Desgarron Manor incident? Could he have been among those responsible?!’

None of these questions mattered anymore. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

Rey was already dead.

"RAAAAAAHHHHH!"

[A/N: Did any of you expect this outcome? I wonder how many of you saw the signs and suspect this much...]