The Extra Can't be A Hero

[Yue's POV]

Love.

A word so soft, so delicate… and yet, so cruelly paradoxical.

I never believed it was meant for me, not truly. I had long accepted that my path would be cold and unyielding, forged from duty and obsession, not warmth or affection. So to say I fell in love feels almost like a betrayal.

A betrayal of everything I endured, everything I became.

And to fall for Amon Solaris, of all people—the man who once came to end my life—was beyond reason. But love doesn't ask for permission. It slips in through the cracks you never knew existed.

Why him? I ask myself this often.

But the answer isn't simple. Because the story doesn't begin with love—it starts with loss.

The Elune House. A name spoken with reverence throughout the Hyades Republic. A family of magicians, proud and powerful, especially the summoners. We ruled over Eshon, a province blanketed in eternal winter. The cold was all I knew, outside and within. It seeped into my bones, numbed my soul, and became part of me.

My childhood wasn't warm, not even in memory. My grandfather was the only one who ever smiled at me with something close to love. But even he, with time, withdrew into silence.

The rest of my family? They saw me not as a child, but as potential. A tool. A way to secure power. When my magical abilities began to surface, they ceased treating me as a daughter and began moulding me into their weapon.

And I let them.

When you're young, approval feels like love. I craved it so desperately. I clung to every nod, every word of praise, even as they grew fewer and colder. I gave up play for study, laughter for silence. I drowned in grimoires, rituals, and summoning circles.

My only companions became the Spirits I bound. I told myself this was life's purpose. That becoming the strongest summoner in Elune's history would give my life meaning.

And in a way, it did.

But it also broke something inside me.

The stronger I became, the more I lost. My grandfather's eyes grew wary—haunted, even, as if I reminded him of ghosts best left buried. My parents became strangers, whispering behind closed doors, measuring my worth in whispers of succession.

Friends I once played with became rivals, their faces stiff with resentment. Even the servants… the ones who used to braid my hair and sneak me sweets… they now bowed with eyes full of fear.

The loneliness was suffocating. But I smiled through it.

I told myself that pain was the price of greatness. I didn't realise until it was too late that something vile had wormed into our home. While I obsessed over power, the Demon Cult began their work. And my aunt—the same one we had all cursed as a traitor—returned, cloaked in shadows, not for redemption but to destroy what remained of our legacy.

And I? I was her pawn.

By the time I realised it, it was already over.

My life, everything I had built, everything I sacrificed—twisted and used by those who saw me as nothing more than a vessel. In that moment, in that despair, I truly believed it would've been better to feel nothing.

To be nothing. I wanted the numbness back. The cold that once comforted me. But then... he appeared.

Amon Solaris. He didn't ride in like the stories tell. No gallant steed. No gleaming armour.

Just a man, his black blade dripping with blood, his eyes filled with something unreadable. He pointed his sword at my neck. I didn't flinch. I wanted him to do it… to end it.

But instead, he said: "I came to kill you. But it seems… you're better alive than dead."

And something inside me cracked. It wasn't love. Not yet. It was something far more terrifying: hope. I could be more than what they made me. That someone saw me for the first time. And that… was the beginning.

❖❖❖

After he saved me, Amon didn't treat me like some redeemed noble or tragic heroine. No—he made me his subordinate.

To be honest, subordinate was a generous word. What we had resembled something closer to the relationship between a master and his servant… or slave, even. He gave orders. I obeyed them. There was no affection, no gentle guidance, no words of comfort for the girl who had just crawled out of ruin.

And yet—I didn't care.

Because for the first time in my life, someone had given me a direction that wasn't about politics, legacy, or power.

Amon's goal was terrifying in its simplicity: save the world.

From the Demon Cult. From the future he claimed to have seen. From the collapse of humanity itself.

He spoke little about how he knew what was coming—only that he had glimpsed the end, and he was determined to change it, one battle, one death, one scar at a time.

And so, I followed him.

I thought he was invincible, at first. A walking contradiction: quiet, ruthless, indifferent… yet endlessly driven by a moral compass that burned hotter than any flame. He would throw himself into the abyss without hesitation if it meant sparing someone else the fall. I watched him bleed, over and over—his body battered, broken, burned—but never once did he ask for help.

Never once did he pause.

He slaughtered cultists by the hundreds, toppled entire chapters of their twisted faith, and slew Apostles whose names inspired dread even among seasoned warlords. He even struck down the Prophet himself—if only briefly.

But raw power alone was never enough.

The Demon Cult was like a disease, metastasising in every crevice of society. Its promises of freedom and indulgence appealed to the worst in people: greed, lust, and fear. One by one, humanity crumbled. The line between hero and villain blurred. The people Amon fought to protect turned their backs on him. Allies he sheltered betrayed him. Those he spared returned, stronger and more monstrous.

And eventually… he fell.

The lone warrior who stood at the end of the world.

Only… he wasn't alone. I was there.

I saw it all—the rise of Amon Solaris, the shattering of his myth, and the slow, agonising descent into despair. I remained by his side when even his reflection couldn't bear to look back at him. I was his shadow, second blade, and silence when the world was too loud. I did the things he couldn't do—the ones that would have broken what remained of his soul.

And yet… it was too little, too late.

By the time I had grown strong enough to be useful, to truly stand beside him, the world had already begun to rot.

The tipping point had passed.

The Cult's grip on fate had twisted reality, and I understood a terrible truth: The timeline we were fighting to protect was predestined to perish.

So, I decided to do something unthinkable, something that defied every law of magic and nature.

I would unravel time, reverse the flow, and push against the currents of destiny until they bent back into something that might allow him to live again.

Some might say it was heroic. Others, foolish. But the truth? It wasn't about fate. Or justice. Or duty.

It was about him.

About seeing him smile again. About hearing his voice, even if it was only to chastise me. About watching that lonely man look up at the stars and believe, even for a moment, that he wasn't carrying the world alone.

So, why did I fall in love with Amon Solaris? Was it because he saved me? Because he bore the weight of humanity's salvation on his shoulders?

No. It was simpler than all that.

I loved him… because I loved him.

No prophecy. No logic. No reason that could be dissected and explained.

Just a girl, hopelessly in love, doing everything she could to walk alongside the one man who made her feel alive.

And that was enough.

So when I rewound time… when I saw his face for the first time in this timeline… I could hardly hold back my love.

Just calling him mine… my fiancé… my husband… was enough to send butterflies churning in the pits of my stomach. His scent, touch, warmth… they were all intoxicating.

Thus, I swore… I would always be honest with my feelings for him and do everything in my power to keep him by my side. And even if he chose to look another way, I would continue loving him with everything I had.

That was… my heartfelt desire.

❖❖❖

"I desire to be by your side, I'm sure you're well aware of that by now."

"..."

Amon said nothing, his gaze fixed on the transcendental beauty before him. The soft glow of affection in her eyes, the vulnerability only love could inspire, heightened her radiance. At that moment, she wasn't just beautiful but incarnate of love. And the young knight, caught off guard, found himself unable to look away. She was the embodiment of devotion, and Amon stood utterly spellbound at the sight of her.

"That drives me to wake up every morning… to push forward with our plan to save the world. I hope that one day… we could retire in an era of peace. In a serene prairie much like this one."

For the first time, Yue spoke of her dreams for the future—not just the war against the Demon Cult, but the life that might come after. A future beyond battle, beyond bloodshed. A world worth saving… and living in.

"Retire in a farmhouse, or maybe a hut in the forest by a lake. We will raise our children happily and peacefully as we rest, away from the sinister world."

"That's your dream?"

"One of it, yes." Yue beamed radiantly as she said: "But ultimately… my drive is to be with you, forever. Whatever shape it may take."

"I see…"

Amon looked down, a flicker of shame passing across his face. He had always known Yue cared for him—loved him, even—but he had never grasped the depth of that love… not until now. And at that moment, he felt a quiet guilt, not because he didn't return her feelings but because he wasn't sure how he felt.

He didn't know what love was.

Once, he had been nothing more than a weapon—crafted, commanded, and cast into battle without question. Emotions were irrelevant. Desire, foreign. He existed to serve, to fight, to obey. But now, something had changed in this strange and fragile world they had carved out together.

The steel walls he had forged around his heart—built from pain, duty, and silence—had begun to wear away. Not shattered in an instant, but worn down, bit by bit, by Yue's unwavering love. Her constant and unrelenting warmth was like the tide: soft, but impossible to resist.

And for the first time in his two lifetimes… Amon found a direction, a beacon, a desire.

"I get it now… what the Sword Saint wants from me."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, thank you, Yue. You have opened my eyes."

"R-Really? I'm glad."

Yue smiled softly. Though his response wasn't what her heart had longed for, there was still a quiet joy in knowing she had reached him, even just a little. It was enough to offer comfort and ease his burden, even in silence… it was enough for now.

She understood that the walls around Amon's heart had been built over a lifetime, and she never expected them to fall in a single moment. She was patient, willing to wait as long as it took for him to open the door on his own.

Just as she let herself exhale, letting her heart rest after her vulnerable confession, Amon spoke again.

"I too… When our job is finished, I will retire with you."

"R-Retire with me? Y-You mean?"

"A life of a husband and father… maybe I'll try that too."

"W-Wait, A-Amon?!"

Yue froze, overwhelmed by a sudden wave of panic. For all her boldness in giving love, she was utterly unprepared to receive it. Amon's unexpected confession struck her harder than any spell or blade she had ever faced.

Her face turned a shade of crimson deeper than she'd ever known, her heart thundering in her chest with a force even fiercer than the battles she'd fought against the descending Demon Lords. Her hands trembled uncontrollably as she fumbled to raise a recording crystal, her voice unsteady with disbelief and hope.

"W-Wait! Say that again—please!" she pleaded, eyes wide and shining. "C-C-Could you say that again?!"

Watching Yue shift from an ethereal beauty to a flustered, melodramatic voyeur made Amon scowl in exasperation. He turned away, shaking his head, much to the maiden's dismay.

"N-N-NOOOO!!! That was at least S-Rank! No—SS-Rank?! Ultimate-tier material?! And I didn't record it?!"

As Yue collapsed into theatrical despair, wailing over her failed attempt to immortalise the moment, Amon couldn't help but stifle a laugh. She'd recover soon enough—he was sure of it. Her antics, as ridiculous as they were, lightened even the heaviest of hearts.

With a faint smirk tugging at his lips, Amon turned from the cliff's edge and began the walk back to the Sword Saint's abode.

But he did not return the same.

Something had shifted. For the first time, deep within the silence that had always filled him… There was a flicker of something new.

Desire.