Don't Want to Be Ordinary Even Though I'm an Extra Character-Chapter 116: [115] Anxiety

Inside the castle, in a vast chamber lined with towering bookshelves and a desk cluttered with documents, Arkan sat in his chair, carefully reading through a report from the Defense Division. His eyes scanned each page meticulously, analyzing every detail recorded within.

Without looking up from the report, he finally spoke.

"What do you think?" he asked, his tone casual yet meaningful.

Across from him, Commander Kael stood tall, arms crossed over his chest. His sharp gaze remained steady, showing that he had already considered the question long before it was asked.

"I believe they are worthy. But... isn’t it too soon to grant them honorary titles?" His voice was calm but carried a hint of concern.

Arkan finally closed the document in his hands and leaned back into his chair, his expression relaxed.

"Well... it’s a form of appreciation for their hard work," he replied lightly, though his gaze remained sharp. "Soldiers are often seen as disposable pawns, but that doesn’t mean I have to treat them that way."

Kael remained silent, waiting for further explanation.

Arkan continued, "Titles and medals aren’t just symbols. They serve as reminders that their efforts are recognized and as motivation for them to continue improving."

However, deep in his mind, Arkan had thoughts he chose not to voice.

’In the end, they’re just titles and medals. If they serve a positive purpose, that’s good for me. If not... well, I lose nothing.’

Kael let out a quiet sigh before giving a small nod. He understood Arkan’s reasoning. Though he had his doubts at first, he couldn’t deny that it was a smart move.

"Hmm... I see. It’s a good way to motivate them," he admitted, his tone more accepting now. "You really do treat them well."

Arkan simply smirked.

"Of course... It would be a shame if I lost too many of them."

The atmosphere in the room grew quieter, yet beneath those simple words, Kael knew that Arkan wasn’t just speaking as a leader—he was speaking as someone who understood that war wasn’t just about victories, but also about loss.

Kael glanced around the room before suddenly noticing something. His eyes narrowed slightly as he realized someone who should have been here was missing.

"By the way, I don’t see Rainer... Where is he?" he asked, his voice casual but tinged with curiosity.

For a brief moment, the air in the room shifted—just slightly, but enough to be noticeable.

Arkan, who had remained at ease moments ago, paused before answering.

"Rainer? ...Ah, he’s training," he said, his tone light, but his eyes said otherwise.

In his mind, Arkan knew he couldn’t reveal what they had truly discussed two nights ago.

’I can’t talk about that now.’

Kael either didn’t notice the slight shift in Arkan’s demeanor or simply chose not to press further.

He only sighed lightly before nodding. "Haah... Same as always, huh?" he murmured, as if already used to Rainer’s disciplined habits.

But then, his expression turned more serious.

"Right, we’ll be launching that operation soon, won’t we?" he asked in a lower voice, his gaze sharpening—this was no longer a casual conversation.

Arkan nodded slowly. "Yes. Our preparations are complete. Now, we’re just waiting for the right time."

Kael crossed his arms, staring straight at Arkan, as if waiting for something.

"Alright... So, what are we calling this operation?"

Arkan tapped his fingers against the desk, contemplating the perfect name.

"Hmm..." he hummed, his eyes momentarily lost in thought before settling on a conclusion.

"Since our goal is to prevent the assassination of the Northern Empire’s envoy... we’ll call it..."

A faint smile crossed his lips as he continued.

"Operation Phantom Shield."

Kael raised an eyebrow, but after a few seconds of thought, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He nodded in approval. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

"A fitting name. We’ll be the shield lurking in the shadows, stopping the threat before it can strike."

Arkan only gave a knowing smile. Both of them understood that this operation was not just about stopping an assassination—it was about uncovering something far bigger.

---

In a vast open field illuminated by the moon’s glow, the sound of wind and clashing metal filled the air.

Rainer stood at the center, his spear slicing through the night with precision, every movement sharp and powerful. Yet, even as his body moved, his mind was elsewhere.

He tried to focus, to follow the rhythm of his training as usual. But with every swing of his spear, the conversation from that night echoed in his head.

---

That night, the air inside the castle was colder than usual.

In a dimly lit chamber, illuminated only by the flickering glow of candles, Rainer sat across from Arkan, his gaze filled with unspoken questions. Between them, a table was cluttered with strategic documents, regional maps, and reports on the rapidly growing military force.

Arkan appeared relaxed, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. Yet, his sharp eyes suggested that he already knew what Rainer was about to ask.

Rainer finally broke the silence.

"What exactly is your goal, Arkan?"

Arkan held his gaze for a moment but didn’t immediately answer. Instead, he simply smiled—a small, knowing smirk, as if savoring the moment.

"You’re building this army at an impossible speed," Rainer continued, his deep voice carrying the weight of long-held doubts. "With the strange knowledge you possess, you could easily conquer the entire continent if you wanted to."

"But... that’s not what you’re doing."

His piercing gaze locked onto Arkan, searching for any cracks in his composed expression.

"Instead, you’re focusing on preventing the world’s destruction... fighting against a group of fanatics hiding behind the elite rulers."

"Why?"

This wasn’t just a typical war—it was a conflict between those who held absolute power and those willing to destroy everything in the name of their twisted beliefs.

And Arkan was caught right in the middle.

To Rainer, this situation was far too complex for someone who was supposed to be nothing more than the ruler of a small territory.

Arkan finally exhaled, shifting his gaze to the window, where the dark night sky stretched endlessly.

Several seconds passed in silence before he spoke.

"What else?" he said casually, though something deeper lingered beneath his voice.

"Of course... it’s to survive, Rainer."

Rainer frowned.

Arkan turned back to him, his small smile never fading.

"You’re overthinking things."

Then, in a lower voice, his eyes darkened slightly, as if recalling something long buried in the past.

"And how do I know so much? Because I don’t want to lose someone again... That’s all there is to it."

Silence fell over the room once more.

This time, Rainer didn’t immediately respond.

For the first time, he saw something in Arkan’s eyes that had always been hidden—a wound that had never healed.

But it still wasn’t enough.

"That doesn’t answer my question."** Rainer’s gaze sharpened, his voice carrying a note of frustration.

"Where do you get all this information? Fine, I can accept that you can’t explain where you acquired your knowledge. But what about the cult? Their plans? The legends—even I, someone who has lived through wars, have never heard of them."

"So tell me, where exactly did you learn all of this?"

Arkan didn’t answer right away.

He fell silent, his eyes dimming slightly as if weighing something too difficult to say. His fingers tapped lightly against the wooden table—a steady rhythm, a sign that his mind was racing.

Finally, he let out a quiet sigh and lifted his gaze back to Rainer.

"Rainer, do you believe that I’m someone who has returned from the future?"

Rainer blinked. His expression shifted instantly.

Silence.

For the first time in this conversation, his mind stalled.

"Don’t joke around..." he muttered, but his voice was weaker than he had intended.

Impossible. That was absurd. That was the stuff of fairy tales, hallucinations, or cheap novels.

But... why did Arkan look so serious?

Why wasn’t there even the slightest hint that he was lying?

Doubt crept into Rainer’s heart, slowly unraveling the logic he had always believed in.

At last, he took a deep breath and looked away for a moment, trying to steady his thoughts.

"Fine... let’s say you really came back from the future." His voice was calmer now, though skepticism still lingered. "Tell me—what exactly happened in that future? What did you see?"

Arkan didn’t answer immediately.

He simply gave a small smile, though it felt more like a bitter laugh at fate itself.

"Didn’t I already tell you earlier today when we were with Marcel?" he said flatly.

"It was destruction, Rainer."

His voice was quiet, but something about it made Rainer’s chest tighten.

Not because of how Arkan said it, but because of the way he said it—as if he had seen it with his own eyes. As if he had lived through it. As if he had lost everything.

Rainer wanted to deny it.

But if he did...

What would happen to the world he knew?

And more importantly...

Could they really change that future?

Arkan didn’t say anything else. He let Rainer process his words on his own, allowing time itself to determine whether he would believe him—or remain trapped in his own doubts.

"Damn it... What am I even doing?" Rainer muttered, his voice nearly drowned by the soft whisper of the night wind.

His grip on his spear tightened—not because he was preparing for battle, but because his mind was waging a war against itself.

Since that conversation, he felt as if he were standing at the edge of a cliff, unsure whether to move forward or step back.

If Arkan’s words were true... if the world was truly heading toward destruction...

What could he do?