I AM EXTRA IN A SHONEN MANGA

Third Person POV

The forest was quiet.

Leaves rustled gently overhead, touched by the wind, and somewhere in the distance, a bird gave a single, sharp cry before flying off.

Master Isen stood still, the black and silver of his robes trailing like shadows dipped in moonlight. He was smiling a bright, almost boyish expression that didn't match the weight of his power.

"Let's talk here," he said.

"So that people won't notice us."

Khael squinted. That smile... it felt genuine. Too genuine.

He coughed softly, voice unsure but firm.

"What are you trying to find out about me?"

Master Isen folded his hands behind his back.

"Nothing threatening. I just want to know about that technique you used… the one only Dragon Knights are capable of."

Khael sighed. He knew this man couldn't be tricked not with empty words.

He looked down, then back up with clear eyes.

"Yes... I am a Dragon Knight. The last one."

Master Isen's smile faded slightly.

"The last one, huh?"

A beat passed.

Then—

"Tell me, kid… how did you become a Dragon Knight?"

Khael's gaze drifted toward the distant canopy above them.

"Well… I found a cave. Deep in the mountains. And inside, I met a dragon—Azael. He was wounded, dying. And before he passed, he gave me his power… his blood. His inheritance. Everything."

Isen stared at him. Sharp. Discerning.

(I don't sense any lie… that means he's telling the truth.)

Khael, meanwhile, was calm on the outside.

But inside—

(Well… it's not technically a lie. He did give me everything. And I did find a cave...)

But then—

"Kid," Master Isen narrowed his eyes,

"Are you hiding something from me?"

Khael tensed.

(Shit… what should I say? If I lie—he'll know.)

He took a breath.

"There is… but I promise, it's not something evil. I'm not planning anything bad."

Isen stared. Then… he relaxed.

"Hmm… okay. One last question."

He took a step closer.

"What do you want to achieve? Having that kind of power... it means glory, conquest, fame."

Khael didn't hesitate.

"I don't need any of that. All I want is a peaceful life… and to protect this world as long as I can."

—

Silence.

Then a memory washed over Master Isen like a ghost from the past.

Yuna.

His master.

Yuna the Dragonslayer. The only one he ever admired to the point adoring her. She too was a Dragon Knight once, one who chose to become a slayer, not because she hated dragons, but because she had to.

He remembered that day.

"Master, why do you push yourself so hard?"

A younger Isen had asked her.

Yuna, her eyes calm and her blade strapped to her back, smiled.

"Well… for the sake of a peaceful life," she said,

"And to protect this world… as long as I can."

She beamed.

And just like that—

The same words.

The same fire.

The same conviction.

..

Back in the present—

Isen let out a breath.

Then grinned.

He looked at Khael, eyes gleaming with something between nostalgia and admiration.

"Be my disciple."

Khael blinked.

"Uh… I don't think—"

"You can't reject me," Isen interrupted, flashing a huge grin,

"I've already decided."

Khael groaned internally.

(Oh god. What have I gotten myself into now?)

…

Veinwalker Arena – Veyl Academy

3rd Person POV

The crowd still buzzed from the earlier match, cheers echoing across the vast stone coliseum-like arena.

Kaen Suro stood quietly near the edge of the training stands, arms folded as his eyes traced the outlines of the battlefield.

(There are so many things to learn...) he thought, his eyes reflecting the soft gleam of the Umbraen crystal pillars surrounding the arena.

Footsteps approached from behind.

"You've gotten stronger. What's your secret?"

Kaen blinked and turned his head slightly.

Standing there, a faint smirk on his lips and a fire flickering in his golden-orange eyes, was Haruto Aoyama—prodigy of the Flame Affinity. His posture was relaxed, but his presence, like embers, carried heat.

Kaen narrowed his gaze. "What do you mean?"

Haruto's grin widened.

"I mean… a loser becoming strong? Sounds like fantasy to me."

Kaen's brows twitched. His jaw clenched.

"What the fuck did you say?"

But Haruto merely laughed, lifting his hands in mock surrender.

"Chill… I'm not here to fight. Just making conversation."

Then the atmosphere shifted.

Footsteps light, precise, confident.

Rael Eluron emerged from the corridor behind them, dressed in the immaculate white and violet robe of a top-ranking elite. His platinum hair shimmered like liquid silver under the light, neatly tied with a noble ribbon. His eyes sharp emerald green were colder than frost, focused straight ahead with undeniable certainty.

He didn't glance at them. Didn't pause.

"Get out of my way." His voice cut through the air like a blade—sharp, calm, and devoid of emotion.

Haruto's cocky demeanor faltered. He instinctively took a step aside.

"Oh..."

As Rael walked past, the wind barely rustled his cloak, but it felt like a storm had passed between them.

Haruto clenched his fists behind his back.

(Tch... That bastard. He looked at me like I was a damn insect.)

(Even if I fought with everything, I can't beat him. Not yet.)

(Damn it... it's always been Rael Eluron—the strongest First Year.)

Kaen remained quiet, watching Rael disappear down the stairs toward the lower arena

(One day I surpassed you Rael)

Haruto exhaled and muttered, "You're lucky you weren't in his path, Kaen."

Kaen looked ahead.

"No... I wasn't lucky."

He clenched his own fist, knuckles pale.

"I'm just not worth stepping on yet."

..

Rael Eluron's POV

His footsteps echoed lightly along the marble corridor beneath the arena. The roar of the crowd faded behind him, replaced by silence. A silence he preferred.

(Kaen Suro...)

He narrowed his eyes as he walked, his cloak swaying behind him like a blade through mist.

(How did he use the flame...?)

The image of Kaen's last match flickered through his mind. That burst of energy. The temperature spike. That wasn't natural for a second-rate loser who couldn't even manifest a proper affinity last semester.

(No... there's no point wasting thought on that.)

He walked with regal posture, his chin slightly lifted.

(A loser is always a loser.)

(Even if he stumbled upon some hidden potential... it won't change anything.)

(Because I'll still be standing at the summit.)

To be continue