The Extra Can't be A Hero

Manon gazed at the two guardians with misty eyes. As the feelings overflowed, the Sky Spear couldn't help but remark.

"Right Guardian of Judgement… Left Guardian of Wisdom… To think that there would come a day when I would face you as an enemy of His Majesty…"

Manon sighed, his heart heavy from regret. No, a silent fury was building within.

"No… It's all that bastard's fault! Once I save His Majesty, I will rip that mule with my own two hands!"

Channelling his anger toward Zuphil, the Warlock responsible for causing this rift, Manon swung his golden spear with impeccable dexterity. He glanced at the levitating Clay Emperor, his face still expressionless; demonic mana wreathed his entire body. Not only that, it seeped from this rotting shell onto the two Guardian Clay Gods, and that, in turn, began rotting the deities from within.

"Fortunately, the two Guardians and His Majesty aren't in their perfected state! We have a chance to defeat them here!"

"... They aren't perfected?!"

Leon gasped, his mind spiralling with fear. In their incomplete state, they were already portraying the presence of an entity surpassing anything they'd ever felt in their lives. Neither Alrock nor Amon could give them such dread, and they weren't perfected?!

"Hmph! If His Majesty were able to use his full power, all of us would have perished in seconds! He did once compete for the Mandate of Heaven!"

Manon boasted. His loyalty to the Clay Emperor didn't evaporate one bit. Still, he glared at the two Guardians and pointed his spear at the warrior deity.

"I'll take care of the Right Guardian! The rest of you, take action against the Left Guardian. Only when we are finished with them, then can we focus our attention on His Majesty."

"Easier said than done."

"Heh, even if you can't do anything to it, just stall for time. Once I neutralise the Right Guardian, I will come to your aid." Manon fell to his low stance and got ready to pounce. But before he could leap into action, he gave Leon one final word of advice.

"Ah, and the wheel behind the Left Guardian? Don't let it spin till the end. If you do, we're all dead."

"W-What?"

"Good luck!"

Leaving behind those cryptic words, Manon leapt forward with his golden spear, leaving Leon behind to deal with the floating Left Guardian. Unknowingly, Leon's blue eyes zoned in on the six-pronged wheel that was creaking like a century-old door hinge. And without pause, it turned to the first hinge.

And then, the world changed.

Or rather, the surroundings had been completely transformed into an entirely different realm. The golden tomb was replaced with an endless prairie, lush with vibrant green grasses that danced in the wind. The sky above shimmered with an unnatural hue, like a canvas painted by an ancient god's forgotten dream. It was beautiful, almost idyllic, but an undercurrent of unease seemed to flow through the air.

At first, it felt like a serene illusion, a fleeting escape from the nightmare they had just faced. But that illusion shattered the moment the ground began to tremble. From the tall grasses emerged waves of clay-formed beasts, each one forged from the land itself.

Some resembled creatures long extinct, sabre-toothed lions, massive woolly rhinos, and towering terror birds, while others were unfamiliar horrors, beasts seemingly crafted from twisted imagination and raw malice.

Regardless of form, they shared one undeniable truth: their eyes burned with hostility.

There was no hesitation, no pause for judgment. These guardians of the prairie realm charged at Leon and his companions with primal fury, driven by an ancient directive to destroy any who trespassed.

"Shit!"

Even without Leon's command, the group instinctively closed ranks, their movements synchronised by sheer experience and trust.

The tension in the air snapped as Fenric surged forward, a mountain of muscle veiled in runic tattoos that pulsed with power. With a roar, he slammed his fist into the air, not at a foe, but into the very fabric of the realm. A concussive shockwave erupted outward, rippling with ancient runes and pulverising the weaker clay beasts in an instant.

Hot on his heels was Gale. The wind bent to his will as his massive zweihander carved graceful arcs through the air. Each swing ignited pale blue flames, ethereal and cold, flickering like the cursed embers of purgatory.

Behind them, Adelia remained still, unwavering. Her rapier shimmered with a silver light, steady and resolute. She took position at the rear, standing as a final bastion of defence between danger and the vulnerable Saintess and the quiet Necromancer.

She didn't need to leap into the fray for her role was clear: to protect.

With the others doing their best, Leon was free to do as he pleased… and he sought to destroy the source of this mysterious phenomenon… The Left Guardian.

Still floating in the sky like a bored spectator, the Left Guardian remained silent while his clay animals were being slaughtered. As if their sacrifice meant nothing to his ploy. Therefore, Leon took advantage of his arrogance and flew directly towards the Left Guardian, Ascalon burning with radiant heat.

"Die!"

Seeking to end the battle in a single blow, Leon swung Ascalon at the six-pronged wheel. He hoped that with the artefact destroyed, the realm around them would crumble, allowing them to strike straight at the heart of the Clay Emperor and end the shennegains once and for all.

But the Left Guardian wasn't that easy to beat.

Once more, the wheel turned a shift, and the realm around them changed.

The lush prairie vanished like mist in the wind, replaced by a realm locked in eternal winter. Blinding snowstorms howled across the frozen expanse, shrieking like wailing spirits as they tore through the air with merciless fury. The cold was not merely discomfort; it was a punishing force, one that froze exposed water to ice in mere seconds and gnawed at flesh through even the thickest armour.

Endless fields of snow stretched in all directions, broken only by jagged spires of ice jutting from the ground like the bones of a long-dead colossus. The very act of walking became a trial; the frigid ground sapped strength and will alike, and even a single breath threatened to burn the lungs with frost.

And to make matters worse…

"G-Ghosts? S-So many of them?!"

"Tch, yet another trick!"

Thousands of ghosts emerged from the chilly winter wonderland and haunted the group with a vengeance. They cried, screamed and even attempted to bite the group. To make matters worse, the ghosts were completely immaterial, rendering the Knights useless.

"We can't touch them!"

"Eris! Ellahan! Do something!"

"On it!"

Fortunately for the martial artists, they had two specialists on hand who could deal with the ghosts. Ellahan was the first to act, her Tree of Origin creating a brilliant verdant sanctuary that purified any corrupted soul within. The formerly hostile ghosts paused as their sins were forgiven and their grievances… forgotten.

With that, many of the ghosts found peace in Ellahan's comforting embrace.

As for Eris…

"O' ancient departed ones… May you find peace."

True to her name and reputation, Eris conjured a domain that mirrored a graveyard, not one of dread and decay, but of solemn peace. It was a sacred resting ground, a place where weary and wandering souls could finally rest in peace, embraced by serenity rather than sorrow.

There were no chains, no fear, only the gentle pull of closure. Every soul purified by Ellahan's divine light found its way into this tranquil sanctuary. Even the ancient spirits once twisted by demonic mana felt its call.

For them, Eris's domain was not a prison, but a promise, an end to torment, and a path to redemption.

One by one, they entered her realm willingly, guided by the quiet mercy that radiated from her presence. And as they passed on, the frozen realm of the Left Guardian began to crack.

Shards of ice crumbled beneath the unseen weight of what had transpired. Though it was not alive, Leon could feel the presence behind the icy domain falter—stunned, perhaps even shaken—by the calm erasure of what it had once bound.

And without pause, the wheel shifted again.

This time, they were transferred into a realm of raging fires. A place where the damned were cursed to roam and suffer for eternity, while their prison guards watched gleefully with whips.

It was then that someone finally connected the dots.

"Leon… That artefact… Could it be the Wheel of Samsara?"

"Samsara? Isn't that the teachings of the Eternal Temple?"

"Yes," Ellahan nodded. As a student of theology, the Saintess wasn't only knowledgeable about the Holy Church's doctrines. She studied other religions, including those that contradicted her faith, such as the Eternal Temple. Not for blasphemy, but to explore how humans used faith.

"Samsara states that there are six paths in the cycle of life."

Tiryagyoni: The Path of Animals.

Preta: The Path of Ghosts.

Naraka: The Path of Hell.

Manushya: The Path of Humans.

Asura: The Path of Warring Demigods.

And finally… Deva: The Path of Celestials.

"The paths of Samsara are a key part of the Eternal Temple's doctrine. They believe that only by suffering through them all… will they reach the ultimate truth. Nirvana."

Ellahan's words reverberated through everyone's minds as they watched the wheel creaking once more.

"To think that the Clay Emperor and the Sekhmet Empire followed the teachings of the Eternal Temple."

"No, you're wrong," Eris interjected from the side, shaking her head firmly. "They might have created the teachings of the Eternal Temple from the start."

"..."

That statement brought a heavy silence to the group.

"We really are uncovering truths that would rewrite human history, huh?"

Gale, being the least educated of the bunch, scratched his head in frustration as his brain refused to take in more information. Watching her lover acting so foolish, Adelia couldn't help but kick his shin in protest.

"Even so… We'll have to get out of this situation to share our findings with everyone."

"You're right…"

Leon cast a sweeping gaze over the searing inferno of Naraka—the scorched plains, the molten rivers, the air itself ablaze with malevolence.

Yet his resolve didn't waver. Just as Eris had dispelled the ghostly blizzards of Preta with unwavering grace, Leon, too, held a trump card.

Drawing inward, he plunged deep into the core of his soul, where the essence of his water mana lay dormant like a sleeping giant. In response to his call, the Primordial waters—rivers as old as the planet itself—began to stir.

With a surge of divine fluidity, they burst forth from within him. His left arm shimmered, then liquefied, transforming into a radiant cascade of living water, flowing with untamed power and celestial grace. The ground beneath him steamed and hissed at the contact, unable to endure the purity of that ancient flow.

Shock rippled through the group.

None had expected this—not even Ellahan, whose radiant eyes widened in surprise. She had suspected Leon was capable of something extraordinary, but the reality exceeded even her expectations.

"Leon! That ability will-!"

"I know," Leon smiled and reassured his lover. "I won't die… but I will likely take some time to recover. When I break this domain, all of you focus on destroying the Wheel of Samsara. That's our only shot."

"... got it."

While they didn't know what Leon was planning to do, they had complete faith in their leader's ability to execute it. They waited patiently for the signal, barring Ellahan, who was already casting a healing spell to ensure that Leon didn't face too much of a backlash.

Just like Amon, Leon was born with dual affinities.

One of them—the blazing Solar Mana—was a signature of the Solaris lineage. It had served him well through countless battles, bolstered by years of rigorous training under the Solaris House and the presence of the Holy Blade Ascalon.

Many saw him as a prodigy of the sun, a warrior bathed in celestial flame. But the truth was far more complex. Leon's true strength did not come from the sun. It came from something more profound, quieter, more enduring.

Water.

It was why his eyes shimmered with the deep blue of the ocean—not a coincidence, but a reflection of his soul's essence. Beneath the radiance of Solar Mana, it was water that flowed at his core. Gentle yet relentless. Calm yet devastating.

Leon's primary mana… had always been water.

"Flood the place!"

With a thunderous roar, Leon slammed his fist into the scorched earth, then came the deluge.

Not a mere tsunami, but an entire ocean, summoned from the depths of the world's primordial veins. Waters older than time itself erupted from the impact, surging forward with unstoppable force. The hellish landscape of Naraka stood no chance. Rivers of lava hissed and turned to sludge; infernos were extinguished in violent bursts of steam.

The overwhelming tide swallowed the burning entities that once thrived in the flames, their screams drowned beneath crashing waves. Cracks split across the sky as the very fabric of the realm trembled.

The illusion of Naraka buckled and fractured, leaving the Left Guardian momentarily frozen in disbelief. Behind him, the Wheel of Samsara stalled, unprepared to shift into the next phase.

And then, silence.

Leon collapsed to his knees, the effort of unleashing such power draining every last reserve of strength. Within seconds, Ellahan rushed to his side, her expression etched with worry as she knelt beside him, divine light already gathering in her hands to heal what the ocean had cost him.

As he barely held onto consciousness, his blue eyes gradually lost their colour as he glared right at the frozen Left Guardian, and a wry smile crept up his face.

"We win…"