The Extra Can't be A Hero-Chapter 204: Clay Emperor (7)

While Leon and his crew explored the ruins of the ancient city, Sir Gallahad stood alone against a tide of madness. Before him loomed Samael, the Apostle of Chaos, and behind that twisted figure, a fractured dimension bled open, spilling forth an unending horde of demonic entities.

Thousands of Greater and Lesser Demons surged across the land like a living storm, their howls shaking the very ground. Among them, three towering commanders emerged, each radiating power on par with a Solaris Knight bearing at least six Suns.

The oppressive aura of just one could crush the air from mortal lungs, but together? They exuded the weight of an apocalyptic force, as if nothing in existence could stand against them.

"How chilling... I don’t think I’d ever faced off against such a demonic force before."

Sir Gallahad—Knight Commander of the Golden Dragon Order—a veteran of a thousand battles... trembled.

The other members of Eldorin weren’t any better.

Although they called themselves a Knight Order, their true form was anything but. Most of them were misfits in the story, cannon fodder that had lost their potential for various reasons. In [Bright], they were doomed to either join the Demon Cult or suffer under their thumb. Either way, they weren’t meant to amount to anything.

That’s why Amon and Yue felt comfortable recruiting them.

In the beginning, they couldn’t understand why Amon had brought them all together. Yes, the Demon Cult was a considerable threat, but they were mavericks, lone wolves who didn’t work well as a team. It would have been better to leave them alone instead of forcibly recruiting them into Eldorin.

But as they watched the shattered dimension, the crazed Apostle, and the legion of Demons... it finally clicked in their heads.

Against the Demon Cult... a unified front was required, nay, mandatory.

Though their fates once seemed sealed, their potential for greatness was undeniable. Eris, the Necromancer, embodied this truth. Once destined to become a mere pawn of the Demon Cult, raising the dead to torment the living, she had defied that path.

Now, she stood as a whisperer of souls, guiding restless spirits to peace instead of binding them in chains. What was once a curse had become a gift, reshaped by will and purpose.

And to that end... they stood firm against the unprecedented threat.

"Sir Gallahad."

Yeon, the woman who was destined to be known as the Witch of Oblivion, and Johann, the genius magician fated to stand at the apex of the magic world, stood forth before the Knight Commander. They had set their differences aside as they joined forces for the first time since joining Eldorin.

"What is it?"

"Leave the weaker ones to us," Yeon declared without missing a beat.

"Please tackle the Apostle and the commander-looking Demons. You can trust us with the regular ones." Verso supplemented his grim voice with a prism artefact floating over his palm.

"... then, I’ll leave it to you."

The two great magicians nodded and moved in unison with the rest of Eldorin. Although they hadn’t trained in any formations, they were well aware of each other’s specialities. Amon made sure to drill that into their heads the day they were initiated.

Therefore, even without any prompts, the members all found their spot among the fourteen elites facing up against the thousand-strong army. And in the blink of an eye, the battle for Olavaguel began.

"Khali, make sure to cover me well!"

Venya, the future God Archer, spoke to the chakram dancer who exuded confidence and prestige. Spinning her Chakrams like they were toys, Khali flashed a maniacal smile, unlike her usual fatigued yawn.

"I’m sorry, Ven~! I might not be able to hold back~! There are so many prey... to kill!"

"Just do it!"

Venya shouted back, unsure of whether to trust her back to this volatile fool. Still, it was too late for regrets. The grey-haired ranger took a deep breath in, and her yellowish-brown eyes sparkled with a predator’s intent.

Venya Vortessa.

A former mercenary who was once the most sought-after hired hand in the land. There was nothing her arrow couldn’t hit, and her aim would never miss. With her trajectory and talent, she could have easily obtained the Mercenary Queen title. But she chose to follow Amon.

Why?

The reason was simple.

She saw the end of her path. A path filled with deceit, control and narcissism. A world where she would rule over thousands, and yet be shackled to a dozen. It wasn’t the life she wished to lead. Venya craved a life of purpose, one that she could devote herself to a good faith cause.

And she found it in Eldorin.

No—she found it in Eldorin’s purpose.

Annihilating Demons.

Bursting forth with brilliant Aura, Venya unleashed a display of strength worthy of her moniker. Her bow was wreathed with dense light as it turned into a green tempest. Astral arrows appeared all around her as she chose the most potent one to nock. And as she pulled her bowstring full, her yellow eyes began to turn ethereal.

The world before her slowed down, and all that remained were the targets she sought to kill. Everything was moving slowly, as if she had transcended the boundaries of spacetime and was viewing the world like a chessboard. And sure enough, the God Archer released her incandescent shot.

"Cyclone Arrow Storm!"

The arrow, compacted with Venya’s Aura, spun like a hurricane towards the parade of Demons. Enveloped by a tornado, it sliced and diced anything that came close.

Flesh, bone, skin... Nothing was spared.

And as terrifying as the arrow was... it was only the beginning.

As the arrow reached the centre of the legion, thousands of astral arrows came flying out from the tornado, piercing anything that dared to stand in its way. Most of the Demons fell in agony, while others wished they hadn’t crossed the barrier in the first place.

But, the truth of the matter was... Venya’s attack worked wonders.

And it signalled... The start of the battle.

"CHARGE!!!"

Johann yelled at the top of his lungs as he began conjuring spells. Not to be outdone by Venya’s passion, he created an arcane comet storm and sought to eliminate as many Demons as he could. The same could be said about the rest.

Yeon, the Witch of Oblivion, turned the desert landscape into a winter wonderland. Ice spears fell at the same rate as endless deluges, and ice golems appeared, not to go on an all-out attack, but to aid her comrades. Something unthinkable just a few days ago.

The most obvious beneficiary of Yeon’s change was none other than Lydia Solaris, Leon’s cousin.

Using the Ice Golems as a stepping stone, she charged the flying icicles with lightning magic and sent a deadly flurry of lightning-ice spears. The barrage of attacks annihilated dozens of the Lesser Demons, while the Greater Demons could barely hold their own.

But even if they did manage to regain their wits, what awaited them was the end of a gun barrel. Oswin, the gunslinger, vaulted past all obstructions and meandered his way through the legion. Like a ghost, he executed any Demon that was strong enough to withstand the magical barrage, but just weak enough to be incapacitated.

Basically, he was a last-hit abuser.

But as much as Oswin was a great executioner, he wasn’t able to deal with Greater Demons many times stronger than himself.

An eel-like grey Demon burst forth from beneath the sands and towered over the gunman like a persistent curse. Venom dripped from its mouth as a lightning coil protected its hide. Feeling danger creeping in, Oswin leapt backwards with a somersault, avoiding the jaws of the Greater Demon.

"As expected, Greater Demons are a different breed!"

Filled to the brim with adrenaline, Oswin spun around, sending Aura-coated bullets flying the Greater Demon’s way. The bullets managed to pierce through the thick hide of the Demon, but it wasn’t able to severely injure the monster. At best, it could make it bleed and feel pain, and make it annoyed.

It bared its venomous fangs, ready to swallow the gunslinger whole. But before it struck, a metallic fist was stuck down its throat, forcing the monster to gargle and struggle.

"You’ll always need me to bail you out, huh?"

Lutz, the magical artificier, laughed from within the robot while placing his voice on the amplifier. The mechanical knight’s arm began to glow with flames as an eye-watering beam slipped through its palm and burnt the Greater Demon from the inside out. Pulling out the mechanical arm, Lutz looked haughty as he continued to tease the older gunslinger.

"You steal my kill, I steal yours!"

"It was never a competition!"

Oswin would have gladly wasted more breath arguing with the mischievous genius at his side, but war allowed no such luxuries. No sooner had he felled a Greater Demon than a dozen more emerged from the churning chaos of the battlefield. He and his comrade braced themselves for another desperate clash... until the night sky ignited with a downpour of radiant light.

Beams of divine brilliance lanced through the darkness, momentarily halting the advance of the demonic tide. Even the Greater Demons hesitated, their instincts wary of the unknown force approaching.

Then he appeared.

Descending from above like a prophet of the heavens, a tanned, blindfolded man touched down upon the scorched earth. Hovering just above his palm was a floating prism, refracting brilliant light in every direction.

Without uttering a word, Verso raised his hand, and from the prism, a relentless barrage of light rained down, tearing through the demon ranks with merciless precision.

Yet as the brilliance illuminated the battlefield, it also birthed deep shadows.

A gaunt, sickly figure with pale skin and long black hair moved like a wraith, silently erasing the Lesser Demons that had slipped through Verso’s radiant storm. Verso’s senses flared, and he felt the tug of familiar mana and traced it back to the shadowy spectre.

He smiled faintly.

"Recto, if you’re going to help, do it openly."

"Don’t get too comfortable," the man replied coldly. "Brother."

"Are you still holding a grudge? So much so that you’ll avoid your elder brother since joining Eldorin?"

"Our grudges can’t be washed away with a pint," Recto avoided answering his brother as he surged forward, leaving his team lead, Bane, behind. "It’s just that our powers have the greatest compatibility. If we wish to get ourselves out of this bind, it’s more efficient to work together."

"Hmmm... Is this what you call tsundere? Or brocon?"

"... I’ll kill you afterwards."

Recto made up his mind as darkness mana flared from within his soul. But compared to the sinister, gnarly mana that the Demon Cult was emitting, Recto’s felt noble... divine, even.

Watching Recto disappear from his side, Bane let out a hefty sigh. As the spymaster of Eldorin, his power wasn’t the best, especially in an all-out battle. He was more used to working from the shadows, collecting intelligence and assassinating targets when they were least suspecting. That’s why Amon had assigned Recto to him, to bolster his defences.

But with Recto returning to Verso’s side, Bane’s protection was at serious jeopardy.

"Damn that Recto... Always doing as he pleases."

"I’ll tell on him to Sir Amon!"

Two voices shattered Bane’s silence. As he turned, the spymaster spotted a pair of teenagers clad in sleek, black attire, their expressions twisted in shared irritation as they scolded their companion. The resemblance between them was uncanny, almost mirror images of each other.

The only distinction lay in their hair: one wore her silky black locks tied into twin buns, while the other let hers cascade in a long, flowing ponytail. Their synchronised frustration and matching aesthetic gave the impression of shadows arguing with themselves.

"Renee... Maelle... Don’t try too hard to impress. Just defend yourselves, and it’s mission accomplished."

"Aye, aye!"

The pair gave a comical salute as Bane used his dagger to slice an oncoming demon.

The unified front of Eldorin was a sight to behold, even for the experienced Gallahad and his adjutants. Smiling, he said confidently:

"Let’s leave the small fry to them... We have a bigger fish to catch."

Gallahad locked eyes with Samael, the Apostle of Chaos, who now stood drunk on his power. Waves of demonic mana surged from the rifted seams between realms, feeding his growing dominion as he pushed his mastery to terrifying new heights.

But Gallahad did not flinch.

With a thunderous roar, the commander of the Golden Order raised his greataxe high, golden Aura erupting from his body like a divine inferno. Behind him, a colossal phantom took shape, the majestic silhouette of a Golden Dragon, its wings unfurling with regal might.

The battlefield fell silent.

Even the fiercest of warriors faltered, instinctively stepping back in awe and fear. For in rare moments, when a Knight attained absolute mastery over Aura, it could transcend mere energy, becoming a living echo of something far greater.

And in Gallahad’s case... he wasn’t just manifesting power.

He was invoking the will of their ancient Progenitor—the Golden Dragon itself.

And then... the Sun Knight declared.

"Dawn."

That was how the Sun rose on the battle for Olavaguel.