The Extra is a Hero?-Chapter 292: THE SUSPICION
Chapter 288: The Suspicion
The alcove was quiet, save for the soft, rhythmic snoring of Leon.
The Hero was out cold, slumped against the bioluminescent wall, his heavy armor unbuckled at the shoulders to let him breathe. He looked peaceful, his face relaxed in the golden glow of the moss. He trusted this place. He trusted us.
I didn’t share that luxury.
I sat opposite him, my back rigid against the hard wood of the root. I had a ration bar in my hand, but I wasn’t eating. I was watching the entrance.
Specifically, I was watching Ren.
The assassin sat in the shadows near the lip of the ledge, peering out into the acid mist of the Chasm. He was sharpening his dagger again.
Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.
The sound was deliberate. Monotonous. It was the sound of a predator honing its claws while the prey slept.
I closed my eyes for a second, activating my [Memory Palace]. I replayed the footage of the last jump.
Video Playback: Chasm Crossing. Timestamp: 14:02.
In my mind’s eye, I watched the scene in slow motion. Ren landing on the platform. The platform tilting. Ren’s left foot sliding backward.
I zoomed in.
Ren’s stats were concealed, but I had seen him move. His Agility was at least B+. He had used [Phantom Step] to clear the gap. A skill like that grants 100% traction on solid surfaces for three seconds.
His foot didn’t slip. He pushed.
It was a check. A body check disguised as a fumble. If I had fallen, it would have been a "tragic accident." Because I caught myself, it was just a "clumsy moment."
You missed your QTE, buddy, I thought, opening my eyes. Or maybe you weren’t trying to kill me yet. Maybe you were just testing my grip strength.
Ren stopped sharpening the blade. He held it up to the light, checking the edge. The reflection of the golden moss danced on the steel.
"You are staring, Captain," Ren said without turning around.
"I’m thinking," I replied, keeping my voice low so as not to wake Leon.
"About the Golem?"
"About you."
Ren turned his head slowly. The shadows clung to his face, making his eyes look like hollow sockets. "Oh? Have I failed in my duties?"
"No," I said. "You’ve been exceptional. Too exceptional."
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees.
"You’re listed as a C-Rank Support student. Your file says your ability is [Minor Enhancement]—a generic buff skill. But back there? You used [Phantom Step]. You used [Shadow Cloak]. And you threw a knife with enough force to pierce carapace armor at forty meters."
I tapped the hilt of my sword.
"That’s not C-Rank, Ren. That’s Assassin Guild elite."
The air in the alcove grew heavy. Not from mana, but from intent.
Ren smiled. It was the kind of smile you see on a shark before it bites.
"Everyone has secrets at Arcadia, Michael," Ren said smoothly. "You are an Extra with no mana, yet you lead the Hero and read dead languages. Are we not the same?"
"Touché," I said.
"I grew up in the slums of District 9," Ren continued, his voice taking on a practiced, mournful cadence. "You learn to be fast, or you die. The Academy... it doesn’t measure survival instinct."
It was a good lie. Plausible. Tragic. Exactly the kind of backstory a background character would have.
But I saw his hand. It wasn’t resting on his knee. It was hovering inches from his breast pocket.
The pocket where I had told him to put the map.
"The map," I said. "Is it safe?"
Ren tapped the pocket. "Secure. Against my heart."
"Good," I said. "Because if things go south in the next room, that map is our only way out. Don’t lose it."
"I would never," Ren said.
I suppressed a smirk.
The map I had given him was a masterpiece of fiction. I had drawn a path leading to a "Hidden Ventilation Shaft" behind the main chamber. In reality, the coordinates I had marked led directly into a nesting ground for [Root Vipers].
If Ren tried to betray us and run for that exit with the loot, he wouldn’t find freedom. He would find a pit of level 50 poisonous snakes.
And the best part? I had slipped a [Fire Rune] sticker between the folds of the paper. It wasn’t active yet. It was a remote detonator.
If he took the Life Dew... Click. Boom.
"Wake him up," I said, standing up and stretching my stiff limbs. "Break is over."
Ren sheathed his dagger and walked over to Leon. He nudge the tank with his boot.
"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. It is time to raid."
Leon snorted and sat up, blinking groggily. "Wh—what? Are the spiders back?"
"No spiders," I said. "Just the boss."
I tossed Leon a water skin. "Drink. Hydrate. The next room is going to be hot."
Leon chugged the water and slapped his cheeks. He grabbed the Breaker’s Hammer and stood up, the armor clanking.
"I’m ready," Leon said, his eyes regaining their focus. "Let’s get the Dew and get out of here."
"Ren, take point," I ordered. "Check for traps."
"As you command," Ren said with a mock bow.
He slipped out of the alcove, moving silently down the tunnel.
I held Leon back for a second.
"Michael?" Leon asked.
"Watch your back," I whispered.
"What?"
"In the fight," I said loudly enough for Ren to hear if he was listening, but phrasing it like generic advice. "Watch your blind spots. The Golem hits hard."
Leon nodded, oblivious to the subtext. "Right. I’ll be the wall."
We moved out.
The tunnel began to widen. The air grew warmer, humid, and heavy with the scent of ozone. The moss on the walls changed from teal to a vibrant, pulsing gold. The mana density here was suffocating—so thick it felt like walking through water.
[System Alert: Approaching Heart-Root Chamber.]
[Ambient Mana: Divine / Ancient Mix.]
The tunnel ended at a massive pair of natural doors—two gigantic roots twisted together to form an archway.
Ren was waiting there. He looked small against the scale of the architecture.
"I hear movement inside," Ren whispered. "Heavy. Stone on wood."
"That’s him," I said.
I walked up to the archway. Through the gaps in the roots, I could see a golden light so bright it hurt my eyes.
"The Guardian," I murmured.
"Is it... is it really a Golem?" Leon asked.
"It used to be," I said. "Now, it’s a tomb."
I looked at Ren. He was vibrating slightly. Not from fear. From anticipation. He could smell the prize.
"Ren, you flank right. Stay in the shadows until I draw aggro. Leon, you take the center. I’ll support from the left."
"Got it," Leon said.
"And Ren?" I added.
He looked at me.
"Don’t slip this time."
Ren’s eyes narrowed by a fraction of a millimeter.
"I never make the same mistake twice," he said.
"Good."
I kicked the root-door.
It didn’t budge.
"Leon," I sighed. "Smash."
Leon stepped forward, grinned, and swung the hammer.
CRACK.
The ancient wood splintered. The door shattered inward.
We stepped into the Heart of the World Tree.
The chamber was a cathedral of light. In the center, a pool of liquid gold shimmered—the Life Dew.
But standing between us and the pool was a nightmare.
A massive figure, twelve feet tall, made of woven roots and jagged stones. It turned slowly, the heavy limbs grinding together.
And in the center of its chest, fused into the wood like a macabre figurehead, was the preserved corpse of an Elf.
"Intruders..." the Golem spoke, not with a mouth, but with the grinding of rocks. The voice was distorted, layered with the screams of the dead Arborist.
"Step... away... from... the... Light."
I drew my sword.
"Boss fight," I whispered. "Start."
(To be Continued)
