The Extra's Rise-Chapter 173: Divine Swordsman (1)

The roar of the crowd was deafening. Thousands of voices merged into a single, pulsing wave of sound, an ocean of excitement crashing over the arena. Banners fluttered in the wind, holographic projections displayed our names in blazing letters, and the sheer anticipation in the air was thick enough to taste.

I ignored it all.

The only thing that mattered now was the man standing opposite me.

Lucifer Windward.

The prince of the North. The son of Arden Windward. The future Divine Swordsman.

He was the protagonist of the work I had once read, the unrivaled genius, the one destined to stand above all others.

But today, I wasn’t just a spectator to his story. Today, I was going to rewrite it.

I had fought Ren. I had measured myself against him and tested my limits. I knew now where I stood.

And I knew that, even with Lucifer at full power—it was possible.

I stepped onto the stage, the bright sunlight glinting off the polished stone beneath my feet. The arena was vast, but in this moment, it felt small, as if the world had narrowed to just the two of us.

Lucifer stood across from me, relaxed but alert, his piercing green eyes scanning me with cold calculation. His golden hair caught the sunlight, a halo of brilliance framing a face that was carved with the certainty of victory.

I saw no arrogance in his gaze, no condescension.

Only expectation.

We both knew why we were here.

This wasn’t just another match. This was the match.

Lucifer’s hand went to his waist. Mine mirrored his.

Two swords, two wills, two paths that had led us here.

We unsheathed our blades at the same time.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

Then, the world snapped into motion.

I stepped forward, light on my feet, my sword held in a relaxed guard. Lucifer mirrored me, his posture loose, fluid. No wasted movements, no unnecessary tension. He was a swordsman forged through countless battles, refined by talent and training alike.

I tested the waters first—a quick probing strike, my blade flashing toward his shoulder.

A metallic clang.

Lucifer’s sword met mine with ease, his parry smooth, effortless.

I adjusted immediately, stepping in and pressing forward with a second attack, this time aimed at his ribs. He countered just as fast, his blade twisting to deflect mine with the same casual grace.

Our movements were fast, precise—fluid exchanges where neither of us committed too much, where every strike was met with equal resistance. A careful, delicate dance at the edge of true battle.

I adjusted my footwork, pushing the tempo.

A diagonal slash. Block. A feint to the left, a sudden flick to the right. Parried again.

Lucifer remained unreadable. His defenses were impenetrable but lacked any real aggression—he was watching me, measuring me, learning me.

I did the same.

He moved with frightening efficiency, his blade control nearly perfect. But his movement patterns were methodical, practiced. Predictable in the sense that they followed a flawless rhythm.

He wasn’t using his Gift. He wasn’t using his elemental affinities yet.

Neither was I.

A test of fundamentals. A contest of pure swordplay.

I adjusted my stance again, tilting my blade slightly downward, my grip shifting ever so slightly. Lucifer’s eyes flicked to my hands, catching the change instantly.

I dashed forward, aiming for his shoulder once more—only this time, my swing was sharper, the arc tighter.

Lucifer responded as expected, deflecting the strike at the same angle as before—except my blade twisted at the last second, the momentum shifting. My sword slid past his guard, nicking the fabric of his sleeve before he danced backward, avoiding the full impact.

A breath of a hit. But a hit nonetheless.

Lucifer smirked.

And then, for the first time, he attacked.

His blade came at me like a bolt of lightning, a blur of silver cutting through the air with terrifying precision. I barely had time to react, twisting my sword to meet his, but the force behind it sent vibrations up my arm.

He pushed forward again.

I parried once, twice—each strike heavier, sharper than the last. He moved like a storm, pressing me with relentless attacks that forced me to step back, forced me to defend.

A thrust to my chest—I pivoted. A quick slash at my flank—I ducked, countering with an upward swing. Lucifer’s sword twisted mid-air, intercepting my strike with impossible speed.

The rhythm changed.

I wasn’t testing him anymore. He wasn’t testing me anymore.

This was a fight now.

A flurry of blows—our swords clashed in rapid succession, ringing out like a chorus of steel. Neither of us relented. The pressure built, footwork shifting, blades flashing as we moved faster, sharper, more precise.

A feint. A parry. A counterattack.

Every move met its match. Every strike answered.

We danced along the edge of disaster, toeing the line between control and chaos.

I could feel it. He could feel it.

The need to go further.

To push beyond this.

To use everything we had.

Lucifer’s green eyes burned, his sword held steady.

I tightened my grip, my heart pounding.

The real fight ignited like a star going supernova.

Lucifer didn’t hesitate. The moment the match began, a violent surge of mana erupted from his body—ice and fire swirling together in perfect, unnatural harmony. The second stage of his Yin-Yang Body. The very form he had used to decimate second-years in the VR mock war, the one that made him untouchable.

The arena quaked from the sheer force of his release, frost spreading along the floor even as heat shimmered above it, warping the air.

I inhaled.

’Luna.’

Her sigils flared to life across my arms, gleaming like constellations, as Lucent Harmony surged through me. The world sharpened, the threads of mana bending to my will. My body hummed with the alignment of affinities, magic becoming an extension of instinct itself.

My Black Star remained dormant—this battle wasn’t for it.

But my White Star blazed into existence.

Lucifer’s expression darkened as he saw it. In an instant, he conjured a five-circle fire spell in his palm, the air around it crackling like dry leaves in a furnace. He hurled it forward, a comet of searing destruction.

’Spellcasting already?’ I thought.

Mana pulsed as I invoked Laplace Method, constructing a counter-spell with ruthless efficiency. A five-circle light spell erupted from my fingers, colliding with Lucifer’s fire in a dazzling explosion of energy.

For a heartbeat, the arena was bathed in blinding gold and crimson.

And then—his spell shattered. My light magic carved through it like a divine spear, forcing Lucifer to react. He flicked his wrist, summoning ice in a desperate bid to intercept. The flame remnants barely had time to dissipate before jagged walls of permafrost rose between us, acting as both shield and weapon.

Lucifer exhaled sharply.

I saw it then.

Not surprise.

Calculation.

The ice wasn’t just a defense. It was his real attack.

I moved.

The air hummed as I sidestepped, just as a pillar of blue fire erupted from beneath where I had stood, hungry and merciless. He had layered the ice magic with another fire spell, using the obscurity of the frost to mask the buildup.

Clever.

But not enough.

I twisted, landing in a crouch as I swung my sword in a precise arc. Light flared from the blade, slicing through the mist of frost and fire in a controlled explosion that sent shards of broken ice scattering like glass.

Lucifer was already upon me.

He descended from above, sword coming down with the full weight of his Yin-Yang Body. White and black mana swirled around him in chaotic equilibrium, his entire form alight with devastating power.

Our swords met in a blinding clash.

The impact sent shockwaves rippling across the arena floor. The force of it alone nearly buckled my knees, but I held firm, redirecting the momentum rather than absorbing it. Lucifer pivoted in midair, twisting to deliver a horizontal slash wreathed in fire. I ducked under it, countering with a rising cut aimed at his ribs.

He parried with an ice-coated gauntlet, frost spreading over my blade before I shattered it with a burst of light mana.

He smirked.

I frowned.

Fire licked at my side.

I barely twisted in time, rolling across the ground as a crescent of compressed flame seared the air where I had stood a second ago.

Lucifer pressed his advantage. He switched stances mid-motion, a blur of elemental destruction, striking with a mixture of raw strength and relentless precision. Every attack flowed seamlessly into the next—fire and ice bending to his will like an extension of his own body.

I countered with Lucent Harmony, weaving between spells, redirecting force, meeting him stroke for stroke. But there was no denying it—his Yin-Yang Body made him stronger than me, physically. His every swing carried the weight of a battle-hardened prodigy, and for all my talent, for all my training—

I was still human.

But that was fine.

Because I wasn’t done yet.

Lucifer saw the shift in my stance and lunged forward, eager to break my rhythm before I could capitalize. His sword came down, a devastating vertical strike reinforced with both fire and ice—an attack that would have sundered a lesser opponent.

I didn’t dodge.

I let the force of it come.

And I caught it.

Light exploded around me as I parried his full-powered strike, absorbing the force into my own momentum. My body moved instinctively, my feet already shifting into the first step of Tempest Dance.

My blade flickered like lightning—striking, retreating, striking again.

The technique compounded.

Each movement built upon the last, speed and power doubling, then tripling, then quadrupling with every fluid motion.

Lucifer’s counterattacks grew more desperate. He blocked one strike but failed to keep up with the second. The third sliced past his defenses, forcing him back. The fourth made him stumble.

The fifth sent him skidding across the arena floor.

His pupils dilated as he realized what was happening.

But by then, it was too late.

Because I was already preparing the final step.

Lightning crackled along my blade.

Mana surged.

And I took a breath—

—God Flash.

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