Don't Want to Be Ordinary Even Though I'm an Extra Character-Chapter 113: [112] Survival training (6)

Blake had once been a victim of Erik’s bullying. With his odd personality, unpredictable nature, and a sadistic streak that made people keep their distance, he had always been seen as different. Yet, beneath it all, there was one thing that never changed—Blake still cared about his family, even if the way he expressed affection was often difficult to understand.

Unfortunately, Erik could never accept him. Not because Blake was a bad person, but because Erik refused to let his sister be taken by someone like him. His protectiveness toward his younger sister was too strong, and he simply couldn’t see Blake as someone worthy of her.

In short, Erik was a siscon.

The two clashed, their bodies colliding with full force. Their hands gripped each other tightly, both trying to overpower the other, their faces only inches apart. Erik’s gaze was filled with fury, while Blake merely grinned, savoring every second of the fight.

"Now that I think about it, Helena really doesn’t deserve a guy like you!" Erik growled, his voice laced with long-held anger. Every word that left his mouth was an eruption of frustration and the possessiveness he felt toward his one and only sister.

Without hesitation, Erik threw a punch toward Blake’s jaw, but Blake swiftly deflected it with his elbow. His movements were fluid, as if this fight was nothing new to him. Rather than being cornered, his grin widened, provoking Erik even further.

"Don’t blame me, bro," Blake said casually, though his breathing was slightly heavier from the adrenaline. "Helena’s the one who’s crazy about me."

"SHUT UP!" Erik roared, his fist flying forward again without hesitation. This time, it wasn’t just anger driving him—it was his pride and ego as an older brother.

But Blake had no intention of just taking the hits. With sharp reflexes, he sidestepped and countered with a low kick aimed at Erik’s stomach.

The attack landed.

Erik stumbled back a few steps but quickly regained his footing. His eyes sharpened, sending a clear message—he wouldn’t stop until Blake felt what it was like to be punched by an enraged brother-in-law.

"You have no idea how it feels when the little sister I raised suddenly brings home someone like you!" Erik snarled, his fists flying relentlessly, fueled by emotions he had suppressed for far too long. Each punch wasn’t just an attack—it was the embodiment of an older brother’s fury at losing something precious.

Yet, Blake remained composed. He dodged every strike effortlessly, moving like water, as if he could read Erik’s attack patterns before they even landed. His expression showed no distress; instead, he looked like someone thoroughly enjoying the situation.

"That was a year ago," Blake said, his voice calm, his eyes sharp, but his smile never fading.

Erik clenched his jaw, his rage boiling over.

"SHE WAS ONLY 14!"

This time, his punch nearly connected, but once again, Blake evaded it with a light step to the side. His movements were so natural, as if this was just a dance he had rehearsed countless times.

"No, bro," Blake replied, still composed despite Erik clearly wanting to kill him on the spot. "She’s 16 now. You’re the one who keeps seeing her as a little girl."

Erik froze for a brief moment, his teeth grinding in frustration.

In this world, a person was considered an adult at 15.

But to Erik, his sister was still the little girl he needed to protect.

And because of that, Blake was an enemy he could never accept.

Blake remained standing in a relaxed posture, but his eyes stayed sharp, carefully analyzing Erik’s every movement without losing focus. It was as if this fight was nothing more than a game to him, something he enjoyed without feeling any real pressure. But Erik didn’t see it that way—for him, this was a battle he had to win.

Erik gritted his teeth, his gaze burning with uncontainable rage. He had thrown everything into his punches, yet Blake continued dodging with ease, making it seem like he was toying with him. This was no longer just a fight—it was a clash of principles and pride.

"Damn it..." Erik took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. "Looks like I won’t reach you with just this."

Without hesitation, his hand reached for the dagger tucked at his waist.

The cold gleam of the blade shimmered under the moonlight, reflecting Erik’s now unfiltered intent. This was no longer just a brawl—he was ready to wound, ready to end this in a far more serious manner.

Blake, who had remained calm the entire time, finally showed a change in expression. His casual smile faded slightly, replaced by a sharper, more serious look.

"You’re right." His voice remained steady, but there was now a hint of caution in it. "I wasn’t taking this seriously either... but that changes if you start using a dagger."

With a smooth motion, Blake drew his own dagger.

His blade was slightly longer than Erik’s, with a subtly curved tip—a weapon clearly meant for more than just training. He twirled it once between his fingers, letting the moonlight reflect off its surface before assuming a combat stance.

The tension in the air shifted entirely.

The night air grew colder, and the faint sounds of the forest vanished, as if the wilderness itself had retreated from the presence of two predators ready to strike. This was no longer just a fight—it was a duel that would determine who was stronger, faster, and more deserving.

Erik didn’t wait any longer. With lightning speed, he lunged forward.

His dagger thrust straight toward Blake’s stomach, but in an almost imperceptible movement, Blake sidestepped.

In a swift spin, he swung his dagger toward Erik’s side, aiming for his shoulder.

But Erik had already anticipated it.

With incredible reflexes, he blocked the attack with his own blade, the sharp clang of metal echoing through the night.

"You’re still too slow, bro." Blake smirked, his eyes gleaming with the excitement of a fighter who had finally found a worthy opponent.

Erik scoffed, ignoring the provocation. This time, he wouldn’t lose.

They continued moving, their shadows intertwining beneath the moonlight. Their steps were light, yet every motion carried a restrained killing intent—a deadly dance between two warriors unwilling to back down. The clashing blades reflected silver streaks in the air, sending tiny sparks flying as the ground beneath them bore the scars of their battle.

Blake could feel the tension rising, but rather than feeling cornered, he started to enjoy the fight. Erik, once known only as an overprotective brother-in-law, now stood before him as a formidable opponent. His strikes and slashes grew faster, his reflexes sharper—this was no longer the same Erik from a year ago.

’I always knew Erik was skilled with knives...’ Blake thought, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed Erik’s every move. ’But... too bad. It’s already night.’

Dark clouds slowly swallowed the moon, and within moments, the light illuminating their battlefield vanished.

Erik immediately felt the change. His vision blurred, the sharpness of his sight weakened, and suddenly, the battlefield became suffocating. His breath came slightly faster as he tried to adjust, but he knew one thing—Blake wouldn’t give him the time to do so.

"Damn it..." Erik muttered under his breath, tightening his grip on his dagger.

Then, he felt it.

A presence... behind him.

His instincts screamed, and without hesitation, Erik spun around, swinging his blade.

But he was too late.

THUD!

A heavy strike landed against his back, forcing him forward. Erik gasped as the air was knocked from his lungs, stumbling a few steps before quickly regaining his footing. His eyes widened in realization—Blake had used the darkness against him.

From within the shadows, Blake’s voice rang out, low and mocking.

"You rely too much on your eyes, bro."

Erik clenched his jaw, his eyes still searching for Blake in the thickening darkness. But soon, he understood—looking for Blake with his eyes was pointless. His opponent wasn’t just faster; he was also far more accustomed to fighting without relying on sight.

The attacks came from every direction—punches to his ribs, low kicks aiming for his balance, and dagger slashes that barely missed their mark. Erik endured the pain, but beneath the relentless assault, he started to notice something.

After taking a few hits, Erik began to decipher Blake’s attack pattern.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus on sound, the shifting ground, and the way the air moved whenever Blake made a move. With that awareness, he made a bold decision—he sheathed his dagger.

Blake, still concealed in the darkness, would likely think Erik was giving up. But in reality, Erik was waiting.

The moment he felt it—a faint sensation of movement closing in on him—Erik reacted instantly.

His hand shot forward, grabbing the wrist of the approaching figure. With a swift motion, he pivoted his body and used his opponent’s momentum to slam him into the ground.

"UGH!"

At that moment, the clouds slowly drifted away, and the moonlight once again bathed the battlefield in silver.

Beneath him, Blake lay sprawled on the ground, a rare look of surprise on his face.

For the first time in this fight, he was at a disadvantage.

Erik wasted no time. With one knee pressing against Blake’s chest and his hand locking his opponent’s arm, he made sure Blake couldn’t move easily.

Their eyes met—Erik’s gaze burned with determination, while Blake... simply grinned.

"Turns out you still have sharp instincts, bro."

Erik didn’t reply. His hand moved, ready to end this duel once and for all.