The Extra's Supremacy-Chapter 28: Path of the Cursed

The earthen shell burst apart.

And from within... Alvin emerged.

His clothes were scorched beyond recognition. His skin was raw and blistered.

The storage bracelet on his wrist and the small enchanted earring he always wore—both shattered.

He dropped to one knee, wheezing—but still breathing.

Still alive.

The surviving enemies recoiled in horror.

"H-How the hell is he still breathing?" the swordsman muttered, eyes wide.

The dagger user staggered to the archer's side, checking his pulse. His expression darkened.

"...Dead," he said quietly.

Then his gaze shifted—to Alvin, now forcing himself upright using his sword for support.

The dagger user took a slow step back, fear creeping into his voice.

"...M-Monster."

High above, Lesley watched it all unfold.

'He killed one... and disabled the other two. Could I have done the same...?'

But before she could finish the thought—

A voice whispered behind her ear.

"Where are you looking?"

Her eyes widened.

'Shit—!'

But it was too late.

Steel sank into her neck. Another dagger plunged into her gut.

A brutal kick followed, hurling her backward like a ragdoll.

She flew—straight toward the battlefield below.

For a brief moment, her eyes met Alvin's.

His piercing blue gaze locked with hers.

Then—crash.

Lesley slammed into him, and both of them toppled to the ground. The impact rattled through them.

The already cracked battlefield groaned—and broke apart.

The fire spell had destabilized the foundation.

Now, the ruined castle began to collapse.

From the shadows above, the scout leapt down, grabbing the dead archer's body. He landed lightly, eyes locking on Alvin—who was still trying to rise.

"You really don't know when to give up, do you?"

He flicked a dagger.

It flew through the air and slammed into Alvin's spine.

Alvin gasped.

The scout turned without another word.

"Let's go. This place is coming down."

The surviving attackers followed, limping behind him.

Minutes later, they emerged outside—just in time to see the castle collapse behind them in a thunderous roar of stone and dust.

Turning to the injured swordsman and dagger user, the scout ordered,

"Use your potions. I'll cover you."

The two nodded and sat cross-legged, uncorking small vials of glowing red liquid.

They drank, closed their eyes, and began channeling mana through their broken bodies—desperate to recover before the next threat arrived.

Watching the others heal, the scout clicked his tongue.

'Tch. Useless fools. Lady Alvida specifically said not to underestimate them... to use full force from the start.'

He glanced at the smoldering ruins of the castle.

'And one of us even used a forbidden spell—just to die. How am I supposed to explain this to the young lady?'

***

Far beneath the collapsed castle,

In the cold, silent dark.

Alvin lay broken on the stone floor.

"Boy. Hey, boy. Can you hear me?" the sword's voice echoed faintly in his mind.

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Alvin stirred.

'What... happened? Where... am I?'

That was what he wanted to say.

Instead, blood poured from his lips.

"Cough... cough..."

He coughed violently, his vision swimming. His whole body ached—burned—felt like it had been torn apart and stitched back together.

His blurry eyes scanned the surroundings.

Walls of stone encased him on all sides.

"I made these walls to keep you from being crushed," the sword said.

Its voice was weak, fading. "But... that's all I had left. My recovery source shattered during the impact. I won't regenerate anymore energy."

A pause.

"I guess I'm just... a useless sword now. Hah."

Then—a strange sound.

A quiet, unsettling drip... drip...

Water began to seep through the cracks in the chamber.

Thick, dark water.

"The underground waterway... must've ruptured during the collapse," Sword murmured.

The black water crept higher, swirling around Alvin's legs. Then his waist. Then his chest.

Even in his condition, Alvin still clutched the sword tightly.

The sword spoke again.

"Boy... if I told you there's a way to survive... and to grow far stronger. But at a cost... would you accept it?"

Alvin's throat burned. His lips trembled.

But his answer came without hesitation.

"A...nyth-ing... f-for sur-vival..."

The sword's voice turned urgent.

"Then listen carefully, we don't have mu—"

"D-Do it," Alvin rasped, cutting it off.

The sword paused.

"...Then say my name. 'Rhizome'. And give the order."

His body was screaming. He was bleeding, broken, drowning.

But Alvin didn't stop.

He gripped the sword with all his strength and forced out the words.

"I s-said... f-fucking do it... Rhiz-ome."

Then—its voice changed.

A gentle, feminine voice echoed in his mind.

"...Then leave the rest to me."

Her tone was soft. Comforting.

"Sleep now. When you wake, your life will never be the same."

Her voice dropped lower. Tender. Dangerous.

"This is the path of the cursed... but it's the only way to save you."

"...Don't worry. No matter what happens—no matter what you become—I'll be with you."

The water surged over his head, dragging him under.

And Alvin finally let go of consciousness.

Darkness claimed him, body sinking beneath the surface.