The Extra's Rise-Chapter 177: Divine Swordsman (5)

The protagonist always has everything.

The world bends for them, shaping itself around their victories. The tides of fate rise and fall at their whim. They stand undefeated, carving their way through every adversary, claiming the throne at the peak of all existence. The villain cowers before them. The beautiful girl—or girls—fall into their arms.

And when they are about to lose?

They don’t.

Because at that moment, the world itself shifts to accommodate their legend. A hidden power awakens. A destiny once buried resurfaces. The rules break, and balance shatters—because they are meant to win.

Just like how Lucifer Windward had just unlocked his second Gift.

God’s Eyes.

The same ability Ren Kagu wielded. A power that transcended mortal vision, allowing him to see everything—every possibility, every flaw, every path to victory. The kind of ability that didn’t just win fights but rewrote them before they even began.

And I?

I was just the extra.

I was the one the story forgot, a footnote in the grand epic of Lucifer Windward. The one who struggled to keep up, who clawed his way forward while others walked gilded roads paved for them.

I had done my part, hadn’t I?

I had pushed him to the brink. I had helped him grow stronger.

So if I lost now—if I fell here—wasn’t that just the natural conclusion?

I should lose.

I should let him win.

The protagonist was always meant to win, after all.

’Arthur.’

A voice, distant but sharp.

I closed my eyes.

Was this how it was going to end? Was this where I finally accepted it?

That no matter how hard I fought, no matter how much I bled, I would always be second to him?

Would always be behind?

Would always be the extra?

’Arthur.’

A voice in my mind, growing louder now.

No.

I gritted my teeth.

No. I wouldn’t lose.

I wouldn’t let this story tell me what I was.

Not again.

I had lost before. I had lost everything before.

And I had sworn never to let that happen again.

’Arthur!’

Luna’s voice snapped through my consciousness, but I silenced her. I didn’t need her right now.

I only needed myself.

Lucent Harmony coursed through my veins, the serene power of balance and tranquility—so much like Lucifer’s Yin-Yang Body, yet wholly mine.

And then, I did something that should have been impossible.

I released my Black Star.

Luna’s warning rang in my mind, but I shut it out.

Light and dark mana couldn’t coexist. That was an unshakable law of nature. They repelled, clashed, annihilated each other upon contact.

But they didn’t need to meet.

I guided them apart, dividing my mana circuits, weaving a precise dance between the two forces. My body became the battlefield, yet Lucent Harmony ensured neither side encroached upon the other. The impossible stood within me—light and dark, together.

Lucifer’s eyes widened.

And I smiled.

"Erebus."

A rift tore open in space, reality bending as my Lich stepped forward. His oppressive presence surged into the battlefield, the cold grip of undeath radiating from his form. Even suppressed, his aura was suffocating.

I exhaled.

I could win.

I would win.

Because no matter what fate dictated, no matter what destiny claimed—no matter what this world thought I should be—

I refused.

I wouldn’t be the extra in someone else’s legend.

I was Arthur Nightingale.

And I was going to win.

"Let’s do this, Erebus," I murmured, my grip tightening around my sword hilt. "Use it."

Erebus, his skeletal form unmoving, merely inclined his head in understanding. Without hesitation, he pressed the base of his Evernight Staff against the shattered arena floor.

The change was instant.

The world twisted.

A pulse of dark mana rippled outward, swallowing everything in its path. Shadows bled into the cracks of reality, stretching and warping like ink spilling into water. The sky above distorted, its once-clear expanse consumed by an unnatural abyss. The brilliant floodlights illuminating the arena flickered—then failed.

And just like that, the battlefield ceased to exist.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Lucifer exhaled sharply as his surroundings warped beyond recognition. The once solid ground beneath him felt... off, as if it no longer adhered to the laws of reality. His senses stretched outward, probing the space around him.

Then, his expression shifted.

His God’s Eyes were failing.

Lucifer stiffened, his pupils contracting as he processed the realization. The flow of mana around him was shrouded, his vision unable to pierce through the thick, cloying veil of darkness that smothered everything.

He had seen this before—during his fight against Ren. Arthur had used dark mana to interfere with his God’s Eyes back then, rendering his predictive abilities sluggish, his battlefield awareness murky.

But this… this was different.

This was no mere suppression technique.

This was absolute.

Lucifer turned his head, his body tensed, trying to get a grasp on the altered landscape.

But there was nothing.

No sound. No light. Just an abyss, stretching infinitely in every direction.

This isn’t just dark mana. This is… something else.

Follow current novels on freewebnσvel.cѳm.

Then, realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.

"A Domain…" he muttered under his breath.

It shouldn’t have been possible.

Only Immortal-rankers were capable of conjuring Domains—manifesting personal realms that bent the very fabric of reality to their will. It was a feat that required mastery beyond mortal comprehension, the crystallization of absolute control over one’s essence.

Arthur was nowhere near that level.

And yet, here it was.

Lucifer’s fingers curled around the hilt of his sword, knuckles whitening. If it wasn’t a traditional Domain, then there was only one explanation.

A Gift.

Arthur had a second Gift.

Lucifer’s breath caught, a flicker of disbelief flashing across his usually composed face.

That was impossible.

He was the anomaly. He was the one destined to stand apart, the Child of Prophecy. He alone possessed the right to wield more than one Gift.

Because he was the Second Hero.

Arthur Nightingale couldn’t be the same as him.

He refused to believe it.

The abyss pulsed again, shifting like a living thing.

Lucifer clenched his jaw.

No matter what this was—no matter what power Arthur had revealed—he would tear through it.

He would not lose.

That certainty burned in Lucifer’s eyes, unwavering, absolute. This was not arrogance, not some fleeting belief in his superiority. It was the truth of his existence. He could not lose.

That was why, as Arthur stepped toward him, wrapped in bone and shadow, Lucifer refused to believe what his eyes were telling him.

"You’re really using a Lich like that?" Lucifer scoffed, his voice edged with both irritation and bemusement.

Arthur, encased in crimson bones, merely smiled. The skeletal armor wrapped around him was eerie in its craftsmanship, each bone latticed together as if molded specifically for him. The mana radiating from it was dense, thick with necromantic essence. It wasn’t a mere summon—it was Erebus, his Lich, reforged into armor.

It was crude. Inefficient.

But undeniably effective.

"I don’t have a choice," Arthur admitted, rolling his shoulders as the bone plates shifted with him, flexible yet unyielding. "I can’t use Erebus’ real abilities until I reach Ascendant-rank. This is the best I can do for now."

Lucifer clicked his tongue. "A brute-force approach. Disgusting."

Arthur grinned, tapping the hilt of his sword against his armored shoulder. "And yet it’s working."

Lucifer exhaled sharply. Then, in a blur of motion, he was gone.

Arthur barely had time to react before Lucifer was upon him, his sword descending like a judgment of light. The blade, wrapped in both white and black mana, carved through the air like a celestial executioner’s guillotine.

Arthur met it with his own strike, the impact sending out a thunderous boom as their blades clashed. The force cracked the arena floor beneath them, a testament to the sheer pressure they were exerting.

Lucifer pressed forward, his strikes relentless. White and black mana coiled around his sword like twin serpents, intertwining and shifting seamlessly between offense and defense. Each swing was precise, measured, the product of years of discipline and mastery.

Arthur didn’t back down.

Bone armor met blade, sparks flying as Arthur moved in sync with Tempest Dance, his footwork flowing effortlessly. Each step compounded his speed, his strength, his control—every successful deflection adding to the momentum of his counterattack.

Lucifer scowled. He had fought many opponents, but Arthur’s movements were something else entirely. He wasn’t just reacting to Lucifer’s attacks—he was adapting. Each exchange forced Lucifer to shift his rhythm, to adjust, to refine.

And then, Arthur pushed.

His next strike came with a burst of force that sent Lucifer skidding backward, his heels digging into the shattered ground.

Arthur didn’t let him breathe. He advanced, relentless, his sword cleaving through the air. Lucifer barely had time to parry before another strike came, then another, each one stronger than the last.

Lucifer’s pupils narrowed. ’He’s building up power.’

With every movement, Tempest Dance was compounding his strength, his speed—his everything.

Lucifer growled, shifting his mana. The balance tipped. White mana retreated, black mana consumed, and suddenly, Lucifer’s sword was a streak of pure void, sucking in the light around it.

Arthur’s next strike met it head-on.

A shockwave erupted from the collision, the air itself screaming as raw energy exploded outward. The arena walls, reinforced by Mythos Academy’s best defensive spells, groaned under the strain.

And then—

Arthur vanished.

Lucifer’s eyes widened. He didn’t vanish.

He accelerated.

Lucifer had been tracking Arthur’s movements flawlessly—until now.

’Where—?!’

Light.

Pure, blinding light.

Lucifer’s instincts screamed as he twisted, barely catching the glint of Arthur’s blade just before—

FLASH!

A streak of radiant energy carved through the air, splitting the battlefield in two.

God Flash.

The Grade 6 movement, executed with perfect timing.

Lucifer had expected everything—but not this.

Not while Arthur was bathed in dark mana.

Not while Arthur had been fighting like a necromancer.

Lucifer’s body twisted mid-air as the sheer force of the attack ripped through his defenses, sending him flying. His feet slammed into the ground, carving deep trenches into the cracked stone as he struggled to stop himself.

His grip on his sword wavered. His arms burned.

’What… just happened?’

Arthur stood at the center of the battlefield, sword still raised, light mana fading from its edge. His breathing was steady. Controlled.

Lucifer’s heart pounded.

’I lost?’

The realization was bitter. He gritted his teeth, his body screaming at him to stand, to fight, to prove he was still the strongest.

But he knew.

Arthur had won.

And the entire world had just witnessed it.