The Extra is a Genius!?-Chapter 160: Sever the Chain

They ran.

Through abandoned corridors lit only by the fading shimmer of the sacred dome above. The deeper they moved, the more the light dimmed. Stone gave way to something older—walls lined with root and bone, air thick with the weight of unsaid things.

Noir led them without pause.

Her shadow melted into the ground beneath her paws, guiding Charlotte, Garron, Laziel, and the remaining Holy Guards through turns and blind passages that no human could have found alone.

The further they went, the more the world grew... wrong.

They stopped.

Before them stood a massive archway—one that shouldn’t exist—woven from twisted stone and faded runes, half-swallowed by the earth.

Noir turned once to look at Charlotte.

Then walked through it.

The others hesitated.

One of the guards spoke quietly. "That... doesn’t feel right."

Charlotte didn’t wait.

She stepped forward and passed through the illusion.

The moment she did, the world changed.

Sound vanished.

Light bent.

And even her breath felt heavier, as if the air didn’t want her there.

Garron came through second. Laziel and the rest followed.

Inside, the ground was dry, cracked. The walls pulsed faintly with dull magical residue. Everything felt still, as though the place had been forgotten by time—but remembered by something else.

"This place... it’s unnatural," Garron muttered.

Laziel exhaled, looking down the long, narrow corridor ahead.

"We’re close. I can feel them." frёeωebɳovel.com

Charlotte nodded once.

The corridor narrowed before opening into a wide chamber lit by dim blue runes pulsing weakly across the ceiling. The air was colder here—not from magic, but from something older, something cruel.

Charlotte was the first to step inside.

She froze.

Iron cages lined the walls, stacked in uneven towers. Inside them—children. Or what was left of them.

Twisted bodies. Bloated skin. Bones misshapen from forced fusion. Some stared blankly at nothing. Others clung to the bars with trembling fingers, unable to speak, their throats too dry or too broken. One tried to reach for her but collapsed before his hand got halfway through.

"No..." Charlotte whispered, her voice cracking.

She dropped to her knees beside the nearest cage.

"Please, just hold on a little longer."

She placed her hands over the metal, and her eyes closed. Her voice dropped into sacred cadence.

"Light that guides... grant comfort to the broken. Ease their pain..."

A soft glow surrounded her hands. The light passed into the cage, touching the child inside.

He shivered. Then, for a moment—just one—his breathing slowed. The tremor in his limbs faded.

But that was all.

The deformities didn’t vanish. The twisted muscles didn’t undo themselves.

Charlotte’s arms trembled.

"I can’t... I can’t fix them."

Garron stepped closer, his jaw tight, fists clenched.

"They’re still alive," he said.

Laziel lowered his gaze, his voice quiet.

"Not for long, if we don’t end whoever did this."

Charlotte stood slowly.

There were tears in her eyes—but she didn’t let them fall.

"Let’s keep moving."

The tunnel curved into a final descent, and the moment they turned the last corner, the sound of battle hit them.

Screeches. Blades. Shouts of effort and pain.

The corridor opened into a massive hall carved from black stone, and in its center—

Noel, Marcus, and Clara stood surrounded by half a dozen twisted beasts.

The creatures lunged with claws and bone-forged limbs, mouths foaming with unstable mana. One crashed into Marcus’s earth barrier while another tried to flank Clara from the side.

She spun, countering with a burst of water.

"Back off!"

Another jumped toward Noel.

"Fire Arc!"

A burning slash sent it tumbling back in flames.

The arrival of Charlotte’s group turned the tide instantly.

"On me!" shouted the Holy Guard captain.

The soldiers spread across the flanks, shields raised. Garron ran straight into the fight, catching a charging creature by the neck and slamming it into the floor.

Laziel’s hands glowed.

"Illusory Echo."

Faint copies of the guards appeared beside them—phantoms of motion, confusing the beasts long enough for real blades to strike true.

Charlotte advanced without hesitation, weaving between guards, her daggers already dripping.

Clara turned, panting. "You made it."

Charlotte didn’t answer. Her eyes were already locked on Noel.

He was covered in soot, scratches across his jaw, arms trembling slightly from strain—but his eyes were clear now.

She reached his side.

"I’m here."

Noel gave her a nod, but before he could speak—

Noir, who had lingered near the columned edge of the hall, stopped.

Her body shimmered—then sank into the ground.

Melded into the shadows.

Not just hidden—vanished, like liquid darkness.

Charlotte raised her blades.

"Who do I stab next?"

Noel glanced at her, startled.

"You use daggers?"

Charlotte tilted her head with that sweet, almost innocent smile.

"Mm-hm. Hihi."

Noel exhaled.

’Nothing surprises me anymore.’

Before he could say anything else, Arya’s voice cut across the battlefield.

"Well," she said from the center of the chamber. "Looks like everyone’s arrived."

She spun her scythe once, then slammed its end into the stone.

A pulse of dark energy burst outward.

A barrier rose in a perfect circle—smooth, solid, and absolute.

In an instant, the world outside disappeared.

Only three remained within: Noel, Charlotte, and Arya.

Outside, Marcus pounded on the wall with an earth-forged weapon. Clara hurled water spells. Neither touched the barrier.

Inside—silence.

Arya began to walk slowly along the inside of the dome, dragging her scythe beside her.

"Finally. The little Saint shows up. I was getting bored."

Charlotte held her stance. Noel stepped forward, placing himself between her and Arya.

Arya’s voice turned sharp.

"You ruined everything. You. Now we have to accelerate the plan... But that’s fine. Once you’re dead, Saint, we’ll be one step closer to our goal."

Noel’s grip on Revenant Fang tightened.

"Get behind me. Can you fight?"

Charlotte nodded lightly.

"For a little while."

Arya raised her scythe and pointed it directly at them.

"Then let’s make it quick."

Arya moved first.

Her scythe spun in a wide arc, slicing through the air with a shriek of mana-soaked steel. The force alone kicked up dust from the stone floor, her body blurring with speed as she dashed forward.

Noel stepped in front of Charlotte, flames already dancing across Revenant Fang.

"Ignition Surge!"

The blade ignited as he met the scythe head-on. Sparks exploded between them. The impact echoed through the sealed dome, though no one outside could hear it.

Charlotte didn’t hesitate.

She slipped to the side, fast and low, her daggers flashing toward Arya’s ribs. The enemy twisted, retreating a step—just enough to avoid a fatal strike—then turned the momentum into a spin that nearly took Noel’s head off.

"Frost Wall!"

A sudden sheet of ice rose between them and Arya, buying just enough time for Noel to reposition. Charlotte was already moving again, striking from behind the cover.

Arya met her mid-dash, blocking one dagger with the shaft of her scythe and parrying the second with the heel of her boot.

"Tch. You’re faster than you look, Saint."

Charlotte grinned.

"You talk too much."

Noel came back in, slashing downward.

"Flamethrower!"

A jet of flame burst toward Arya, forcing her to vault backward, cloak trailing behind her like smoke. Her boots slid along the floor, but she landed with precision—scythe still steady.

Outside the barrier, Marcus pounded his fists against the wall of magic.

"Come on! Let us in!"

Nothing.

Clara threw a blast of water at it. The surface rippled slightly... but held.

"We can’t see anything," she muttered.

Inside, the battle raged on.

Arya’s expression darkened.

"You’re not strong enough to stop what’s coming."

Noel said nothing.

He blocked. He countered. He protected.

Each clash was faster. Sharper. Heavier.

Charlotte fought with fluid grace—short bursts, swift cuts.

Noel struck like fire—measured but brutal.

Arya danced between them like a shadow with a blade, her laughter cutting through the silence.

And still, none of them could hear the world outside.

Only the sound of steel. And breath. And will.

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