Don't Want to Be Ordinary Even Though I'm an Extra Character-Chapter 120: [119] Demon in here

As Demon Jingul fully emerged into this world, the pressure radiating from its body was so immense that the air itself felt heavier. Some of Erik’s squad members instinctively tensed up, their hands trembling around their rifles. Fear flickered across their faces, but not a single one stepped back—they had been trained to face their fears, not run from them.

Erik stared at the creature, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling as he held his breath, thinking fast. Panic was their greatest enemy right now, and he wouldn’t let his squad collapse before they even fought. Tightening his grip on his assault rifle, he spoke in a firm, commanding voice that cut through the tense atmosphere.

"Hold your positions! We’re not kids seeing a monster for the first time!" Erik shouted, his eyes sweeping over his comrades one by one. "Listen, that thing may not be human, but it can still die! We either cripple it or kill it! Got it!?"

For a brief moment, no one answered. But gradually, one by one, the squad members straightened up. Gav swallowed hard and raised his rifle, his voice still a little shaky but filled with determination.

"Yeah, yeah... Damn it, I can’t believe we’re actually fighting a demon now."

"Hah, I figured today was gonna be interesting," Henes let out a short laugh, but his rifle was already aimed, ready to fire at a moment’s notice.

Demon Jingul stared down at them, its glowing eyes gleaming with the arrogance of a higher being gazing upon insignificant creatures daring to challenge it. Its jaws parted slightly, and the sound of its breath was like the scorching winds of a volcanic crater.

Then, with a single movement that tore apart the ground beneath it, the demon lunged forward.

"Open fire!" Erik shouted, and the battle began.

###

On the other side of the battlefield, Blake moved swiftly, luring the Templar Knight into the darkness of the forest. He knew that fighting in an open space would put him at a disadvantage—especially against an opponent clad in full armor and reinforced by Force. But within the forest, the shadows were his allies—a place where he could move undetected, where even the smallest mistake could be fatal for his enemy.

The Templar Knight came to a halt, realizing that he had been drawn far from the main battle. His sharp eyes scanned the dense darkness, searching for any sign of Blake, but there was nothing—only the whisper of the wind rustling through the trees. Slowly, he raised his sword, allowing the Force within him to surge stronger, creating an oppressive aura that made the small branches on the ground tremble.

From within the shadows, Blake smirked. "You finally noticed, huh? Good. I thought you’d keep acting like that emotionless tin can." His voice came from the right, but before the knight could react, it echoed again from the left. "Though, I have to admit, I’d prefer you stayed that way—makes killing you easier."

The knight remained silent, but his body began to move slowly, maintaining his composure like an unshakable rock. He knew his opponent was a predator in the darkness—someone who wouldn’t attack head-on but would wait for the perfect opening to end the fight in a single, precise strike.

Then, in a movement almost too fast to perceive, Blake launched himself from the branches above, his dagger gleaming under the moonlight.

The Templar Knight turned his head slightly, his sharp gaze sweeping through the darkness around him. His sword remained raised, ready to deflect any sudden attack from the shadows. But despite his calm demeanor, a flicker of intrigue passed through his expression—something he rarely felt in an ordinary battle.

"Tch... I didn’t expect to meet someone like me," he muttered, his voice flat but laced with a faint trace of interest. Tilting his head slightly, as if speaking to the void, he continued, "I thought this mission would be dull. My priest called it an important duty, but I saw it as nothing more than routine." He let out a small sigh, his tone bordering on complaint. "And now, I’m stuck in a forest, playing cat and mouse with an assassin."

A faint footstep echoed in the distance, but no figure was visible.

From within the darkness, Blake sneered. "Like you?" His voice slithered through the night, filled with mockery and disdain. "Don’t compare me to you."

In an instant, the shadows moved again.

The Templar Knight sharpened his senses, but he wasn’t fast enough. A dagger shot out from his blind spot, nearly slicing through the gap in his neck armor before he turned just in time, deflecting it with the back of his gauntleted hand. Sparks flared in the air, and for the first time, a thin smile formed on the knight’s lips.

"Interesting," he murmured. "I want to see how long you can last."

He had barely finished his sentence when a blur shot toward him from his right, moving at a speed difficult for the naked eye to follow. Blake emerged in a low stance, his dagger flashing under the moonlight filtering through the canopy. In a single fluid motion, he slashed toward the gap between the knight’s thigh armor and knee—one of the few weak points even the best armor couldn’t fully protect.

But the Templar Knight was no ordinary soldier.

With exceptional reflexes, he twisted his body backward, his sword sweeping in a deadly arc to slice Blake mid-motion. Blake barely managed to leap away, nearly losing his balance as the blade’s edge narrowly missed his chest. Sparks danced as metal scraped against metal, and for a brief moment, the two warriors stood still, sizing each other up.

"Not lasting... but killing," Blake grinned, though his eyes remained sharp with focus.

The knight said nothing, but he lowered his stance slightly, shifting his posture. Now, he wasn’t just relying on strength and Force—he was beginning to read Blake’s movements.

Blake cursed inwardly. He’s adapting too quickly. If I don’t end this soon, the tide will turn against me.

Without hesitation, Blake dashed forward at blinding speed, appearing to launch a direct assault. The Templar Knight responded instantly, swinging his sword toward Blake—but just as the blade was about to connect, Blake’s body vanished.

It was a feint.

The knight only realized the trap a moment before he felt a sting on his wrist. Poison.

Blake had deceived him—not with speed or power, but with a calculated trick he had set up from the very beginning.

Amidst his rapid attacks, Blake had discreetly slipped a poisoned needle into one of his strikes. As he evaded the knight’s sword, he had used the opening to pierce the tiny gap between the knight’s gauntlet and forearm armor with the needle, coating his bloodstream with a lethal toxin.

The Templar Knight stiffened, his eyes widening as a burning sensation spread through his veins. He tried to move his hand, but his strength was already draining fast.

"You..." His voice was heavy, his body beginning to falter.

Blake stood a few steps away, still grinning, his breathing slightly ragged. "I told you, didn’t I?" he murmured, twirling his dagger between his fingers. "You weren’t lasting—you were dying."

The knight attempted to step forward, but his legs could no longer support him. His body crashed to the ground with a heavy thud, his breath turning ragged as the poison sapped the last of his consciousness.

Blake crouched beside him, his expression triumphant.

"You’re strong," he admitted casually, as if making idle conversation with an old acquaintance. "But I’m smarter."

Then, without hesitation, he plunged his dagger straight into the knight’s throat, ensuring he would never rise again.

The Templar Knight went still, his eyes slowly losing their light.

Blake exhaled deeply before standing up. With a flick of his boot, he nudged the lifeless body aside and wiped the blood off his dagger.

"Well... That was more fun than I expected," he mused before turning and sprinting back toward the main battlefield.

There was still a demon to deal with.

###

On the main battlefield, the fight had turned into a living nightmare. Bullets from their rifles tore through the air nonstop, but not a single one left a significant impact on Demon Jingul’s body. The creature moved with terrifying power—each step shook the ground, each roar sent tremors through the air.

"Damn it, this thing is tough as steel!" Gav shouted, quickly reloading his weapon before squeezing the trigger again. The bullets struck the demon’s thick hide, but they barely left shallow wounds—nowhere near enough to force it back. Henes shot a glance at Erik, his expression tense. They all knew the truth—ordinary weapons wouldn’t be enough.

Erik gritted his teeth, desperately searching for a solution amidst the chaos of magic and blood. Demon Jingul wasn’t just strong, it was fast, and the longer they dragged out the fight, the more magical energy it could accumulate. They had to take it down now, or it would become an even greater threat.

Then, an idea flashed through Erik’s mind. If iron bullets couldn’t pierce its body, then perhaps an explosion would deal enough damage to weaken it. He turned sharply toward Henes, the only one in their squad carrying heavy weaponry.

"Henes! Grenades! Let’s show this monster what real hell feels like!" Erik shouted.

Henes blinked for a moment before a wide grin spread across his face. "Ha! Now that’s the kind of plan I like, Captain!" Without hesitation, he grabbed a handful of grenades from his belt, yanked the pins out with his teeth, and hurled them straight at the demon.

The grenades spun through the air, tumbling rapidly before landing right beneath Demon Jingul’s feet.

In the next instant—a massive explosion rocked the night.

Fire and debris erupted in all directions, tearing into the ground and sending shockwaves through the battlefield. The sheer force of the blast shoved the monstrous creature backward.

For the first time since it had been summoned, Demon Jingul let out a deafening roar of pain.