Don't Want to Be Ordinary Even Though I'm an Extra Character-Chapter 52: [51] Fractured Bonds and New Tensions

-Third Person POV-

Rainer knocked gently on the door, his voice almost inaudible. He wasn’t sure whether Arkan was fully conscious yet or still recovering. When a soft voice from inside invited him in, he let out a long sigh before opening the door.

Inside, Arkan sat in a semi-reclined position, his face still pale, but the small smile on his lips hinted at a good mood.

"Yo, Rainer," Arkan greeted casually. "I thought you’d forgotten about me."

Rainer stepped inside hesitantly, closing the door behind him. "Sorry. I didn’t want to disturb you too soon."

Arkan chuckled softly, though his voice was hoarse. "Disturb? Hey, I’m stuck here with nothing much to do. Your visit is a very welcome distraction."

Rainer took a seat in the chair by the bed, crossing his arms over his chest. A brief silence fell between them, the atmosphere slightly awkward.

"How was your training earlier?" Arkan asked, trying to ease the tension.

"Fine," Rainer replied curtly, his gaze still fixed on the floor.

"Wow, what a detailed answer. I almost feel like I’m reading a war report," Arkan teased with a hint of humor.

Finally, Rainer looked up, a small smile forming at the joke. But that smile quickly faded as he gathered the courage to say what was on his mind.

"I want to apologize... and thank you," he said quietly.

Arkan raised an eyebrow, puzzled. "Apologize? For what? If it’s about troubling me in this village, I’ve already forgotten that. And thank you? Seriously, you’re confusing me. Thank me for what?"

Rainer remained silent for a moment, unable to meet Arkan’s eyes directly. "It’s... something only I know. And I’d like to keep it that way."

Arkan scoffed, though a small smile played on his lips. "You know, mysteries don’t really suit your personality. But fine, I won’t press. If it’s important to you, I’ll leave it alone."

Rainer gave a slight nod, relieved but still awkward. He decided to change the topic. "How’s your condition now? Are you feeling better?"

Arkan raised his still-bandaged left hand, moving it slightly, though his movements were stiff. "This arm will take some time, they say. But I still have my right hand, so at least I’m not entirely useless."

Rainer smiled faintly, but there was a hidden guilt in his eyes. He knew that much of Arkan’s injuries were a result of his decision to face everything alone.

Yet deep down, Rainer felt something more significant. Arkan’s presence, his lighthearted jokes, and his courage in difficult situations had snapped Rainer out of his despair.

To Rainer, Arkan was someone who proved that even if you weren’t a hero, you could still achieve something extraordinary.

"Arkan..." Rainer said suddenly, his voice firmer.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," he repeated, this time with more conviction.

Arkan stared at him in confusion, but before he could ask further, Rainer stood. "I have to go now. There’s training I need to finish. Rest up."

Arkan watched as Rainer walked out of the room, leaving him with more questions than answers.

But amidst his confusion, he felt something else. A rare warmth he seldom experienced—a quiet acknowledgment that he had done something right, even if he didn’t fully realize it.

"That guy is seriously weird," Arkan murmured, smiling faintly.

Yet in his heart, he felt relieved. Despite everything that had happened, something had changed—not just in himself, but also in Rainer.

That day began with a calmer atmosphere in the village, though the tension hadn’t entirely dissipated. The exhaustion from the great battle and the villagers’ recovery from the plague still lingered. But the arrival of three envoys bearing the crest of Marquis Arleon on their chests quickly shattered the quiet.

Arkan stood at the church’s front door, his gaze sharp as he looked at them. The envoys bowed slightly in respect before one of them, a man with a serious expression and short brown hair, spoke.

"We are envoys from Marquis Arleon De Vryse," he said politely but firmly.

Arkan sighed, already anticipating their arrival. But the frustration he had been suppressing since the battle with the giant centipede boiled to the surface.

"Hold on a second," he said, his voice rising. "Do you even know what happened to this village? That monster almost killed everyone, and you... DID NOTHING?! You didn’t even show up while we risked our lives fighting!"

The man flinched slightly at Arkan’s tone but maintained his composure. "Master Arkan, I understand your concerns. However, we are merely envoys, not knights. We lack the ability or strength to face such a threat. If we had acted, we would have only added to the casualties."

The two others standing behind him nodded in agreement, their expressions tinged with regret.

Arkan snorted, but he couldn’t fully blame them. What they said made sense, though it did little to quell his irritation.

"Fine," Arkan said at last, his tone lowering but still sharp. "So, why are you here now? What news do you bring from the Marquis?"

The envoy let out a relieved breath and handed over an official letter sealed with the Marquis’ crest. "This. A letter from Marquis Arleon De Vryse, addressed to you and Sir Rainer."

Arkan carefully opened the letter, his eyes quickly scanning its contents.

The letter was a formal expression of gratitude from the Marquis, thanking Arkan and Rainer for their actions in resolving the mysterious plague afflicting the village. With the chaos now ended, the Marquis’ territory had returned to stability, reopening trade routes and enabling safe travel to neighboring villages. This restoration was expected to strengthen the region’s economy significantly.

Arkan sighed deeply as he finished reading and turned his gaze back to the envoy.

"So, just this letter? No additional support for the village?" he asked, his tone still slightly biting.

The man bowed slightly again. "We’ve brought supplies—food and medicine—to aid the village during its recovery. Additionally, the Marquis is considering sending a small force to safeguard this area, but it will take time."

Arkan gave a small nod, though a hint of frustration lingered. "Alright. Tell the Marquis that I appreciate his concern, though it would be better if he acted sooner in the future."

After the envoys left, Arkan remained standing at the church door, staring down the now-empty path. The letter remained in his hand, though his mind wandered far beyond the scene before him.

"Why am I always caught up in things like this?" he muttered softly.

Before he could delve further into his thoughts, a familiar, irritated voice called out from behind him.

"PATIENT! What are you doing outside your room?! Didn’t I make it clear you’re supposed to rest?!"

The young nun who had been caring for him stormed toward him, her face flushed with anger. She scrutinized him from head to toe, ensuring he wasn’t aggravating his condition.

Arkan chuckled lightly, even though he knew it would only worsen her temper. "I was just taking a little walk. Besides, I feel much better already."

"Better? Look at your arm! It’s still bandaged!" she scolded, gently touching the bandages to check for any damage. "What if your wounds reopen? Do you think we can keep saving you over and over?"

Arkan raised his right hand in a placating gesture. "Alright, alright. My bad. I’ll go back to my room now."

He turned and began walking slowly back toward the church, the nun trailing behind him, still grumbling about his irresponsibility.

A Few Days Later

Time passed quickly. Arkan’s wounds gradually healed, and though his left arm remained bandaged, he could now move it with less stiffness. His recovery speed astonished everyone, himself included.

On their last day in the village, the townsfolk gathered at the entrance, presenting gifts as tokens of their gratitude.

Father Howard stood in the center of the crowd, his expression a mix of somberness and appreciation. "Arkan, Rainer. On behalf of this village, I want to thank you. We will never forget what you’ve done for us."

Arkan felt slightly awkward as some of the villagers approached with small gifts—food, cloth, and other simple items.

"Ah... this is too much," he said, raising his hands to refuse.

But Howard shot him a stern look. "Accept them, Arkan. This is their way of showing their gratitude. Don’t reject their hearts."

Sighing, Arkan finally relented and accepted the offerings. The villagers had even prepared a modest wagon stocked with food and travel supplies for the journey ahead.

Rainer, standing beside Arkan, gave a small nod to the villagers. "We only did what we had to do. Take care of your village."

The townsfolk cheered lightly, with a few children waving enthusiastically.

Once everything was ready, Arkan and Rainer climbed onto the wagon. The wooden wheels creaked as it began moving, signaling their departure.

Arkan turned back, watching the villagers who still stood there, waving with warm smiles. "I think... this is the first time I’ve felt like a hero," he murmured.

Rainer, holding the reins, glanced at him. "You’re more than that, Arkan. And you know it."

With a small smile, Arkan leaned back in the wagon, allowing himself to enjoy the start of their journey toward the city of Vryse.