I'm an Extra, so What?

The morning after the report, Luka was already awake before the city stirred.

He stood atop the old stone wall that overlooked the eastern forest.

From this high up, the ruined grove wasn't visible, but he could feel it. The way a hunter senses when a predator is still watching.

The pulse of the leyline hadn't vanished. It had just… quieted. Gone still like a venomous snake under leaves, waiting.

Snow perched quietly on his shoulder, his small claws gently gripping Luka's cloak, watching too.

Behind him, boots scraped against stone.

"I figured I'd find you here," Serene said, walking up with a steaming mug in hand. "You didn't sleep."

"I did. A little," Luka lied.

She handed him the mug. He took it. The tea was bitter but warm.

Serene leaned on the parapet. "Field scouts confirmed the site. Obelisk's gone, like you said. But the decay's spreading underground. Roots going deeper."

"So, we didn't stop it. We slowed it."

Serene nodded.

Luka exhaled through his nose. "This isn't just random cultist activity. The beacon was too precise. Too integrated with the leyline."

"You think it's a dry run?"

"I think it's a warning."

They stood in silence for a moment. Below them, the city slowly roused: bakeries opening shutters, guards yawning at their posts, children dashing through alleys.

Then, the door to the tower slammed open again.

Arthur stomped up to the top, fully armored despite the hour, his sword strapped over his shoulder like some caricature of a war hero.

"There you are," he said, striding up like he owned the city. "I've been summoned."

Luka blinked. "…What?"

Arthur folded his arms, posture smug. "The High Council wants a briefing. They asked for the party leader." He smirked. "So obviously, they meant me."

"You nearly got us all killed," Serene said flatly.

"And yet," Arthur replied, not missing a beat, "they still want me."

Luka stared at him. "You're going to embellish the whole thing."

Arthur grinned wider. "Of course I am. Why waste a good disaster?"

Before Luka could argue, Arthur turned and marched off, humming to himself. Loudly.

Serene turned to Luka. "Do we stop him?"

Luka shook his head. "No. Let him go. I'll send my version of the report to the royal archivist myself. Quietly."

He took another sip of tea and winced. "Still bitter."

"Not as bitter as me," Serene muttered.

Snow chirped softly, as if to agree.

Luka glanced at the rising sun and the distant treeline beyond the city wall.

Something had set this in motion. Something deeper than a cult or rogue mage.

And the next time they went into that forest… he had a feeling they wouldn't be coming back the same.

"Time to rest up," he said quietly. "We're going back soon."

"Back?" Serene asked.

Luka nodded once. "To where the rot started."

.

.

.

Later That Day – Capital Council Hall

The Grand Council chamber was everything Arthur loved: gilded ceilings, crystal chandeliers, tapestries depicting grand battles, and—most importantly—an audience.

He strode into the room with confidence, his cape trailing behind him like a royal banner.

Several officials sat behind a long curved table of white marble. In the rear stood knights, scribes, and two mages whispering amongst themselves.

At the center, High Marshal Virel tapped a quill against her notes.

"Arthur, of the Ranger team involved in the eastern corruption breach," she announced flatly.

Arthur puffed his chest. "Yes, that would be me. Team leader. Hero."

"Mm," Virel said without even glancing up. "Please explain the operation. In your words."

He didn't need more than that.

"Well, it was grim, I won't lie," Arthur began, pacing with theatrical flourish.

"We were knee-deep in mana-rot. The trees were bleeding. Monsters ambushed us from the shadows. Our healer was unconscious—ah, a brave soul—and Serene was pinned beneath a corrupted tree beast. Snow, the dragon, was panicked. And Luka…"

He waved a hand dismissively. "He was off playing with flowers."

A mage choked on his tea.

"But me?" Arthur continued.

"I stood tall. I drew my blade, challenged the Nightwing beast directly—yes, alone—and delivered the final blow."

High Marshal Virel slowly looked up. "You… what?"

Arthur grinned. "Struck it down myself. It collapsed. Boom. I turned just in time to deflect a second corrupted harpy. One swipe. Head gone. The obelisk? I cracked it with a mana strike. Not to brag, but—"

"You are bragging," Virel interrupted. "And lying."

Arthur blinked. "Excuse me?"

The councilroom door opened.

Luka walked in with a calm, unreadable expression.

Serene was at his side, bandaged arm in a sling. Behind them was a crystal scribe—levitating a glowing orb filled with stored memory.

A memory crystal.

"Playback requested," Serene said.

The orb floated forward and activated. Light poured from it, forming a 3D projection of the battle: the Nightwing dropping, Serene shielding, Luka vanishing and reappearing midair, daggers flashing, Snow spewing fire—

—and Arthur, screaming, literally ducking behind a tree.

The whole council chamber watched the scene with growing silence.

Then—

Arthur's voice from the memory: "Why is it looking at me?! Somebody do something!"

The orb dimmed.

The room was dead quiet.

Virel rubbed her forehead. "Arthur, you are dismissed. Do not return until summoned."

"But—"

"Dismissed."

Arthur slunk out of the room like a kicked dog.

As soon as the doors closed, a soft murmur spread through the chamber.

Luka didn't say anything. He simply bowed once and turned to leave.

Virel spoke, voice low but clear. "Luka. One moment."

He stopped.

She met his eyes. "You acted without approval. Took initiative. Broke protocol."

"I did."

"You also saved the city." She paused. "The crown will not forget that. Nor will I."

Luka gave a short nod and left.

Serene followed silently, holding in her smirk until they were halfway down the corridor.

"He really said you were playing with flowers," she snorted.

"I mean," Luka said dryly, "some of the mutated flora was interesting."

Serene laughed harder.

Behind them, in the echoing halls of the capital, Arthur's loud complaints echoed faintly:

"—I was clearly the star! The orb was edited! There's no way I screamed!"

Luka and Serene didn't look back.

They had bigger things to worry about.

Like the second pulse that had just registered on the leyline map.

Far south this time.

Far worse.