The Extra Can't be A Hero

The Demon Cult's Headquarters.

A place that once struck terror into the hearts of all who heard its name, an impenetrable fortress built to withstand any siege, and a sanctuary where the fanatical followers of the cult once roamed freely,now stood cloaked in an eerie stillness.

The oppressive aura that once radiated from its blood-soaked walls had not faded, but morphed into something heavier, almost mournful.

Gone were the harrowing screams of tortured souls that used to echo through its shadowed corridors. Now, only silence reigned.

No footsteps, no whispered chants, not even the scurry of vermin dared disturb the quiet. It wasn't peace that filled the air, but a suffocating stillness, like the entire fortress was holding its breath.

The mood was neither triumphant nor relieved. It was simply... sombre.

"So… The old man kicked the bucket, huh?"

Within the inner sanctum of the Demon Cult's lair, the Apostles sat in their usual positions. However, they left one chair empty, seemingly out of respect for their fallen comrade. Unable to bear the stifling silence anymore, Samael, the Apostle of Chaos, spoke out with a trace of regret in his voice.

"I thought… He would survive the longest of us…"

Ravenna shifted her spectacles to cover her misty eyes. Grief was coloured all over her face as her blue hair dropped over her eyes to hide her mourning completely.

"To think he would die to that bastard Solaris! Damien! Now we have another reason to seek revenge!"

"Aye, the humiliation we faced in his hands is still fresh in my mind."

The Twin Brutes, Dante and Damien, gritted their teeth as their blue muscles flexed so hard that their veins began to show. Back during the incident with the Foolish Lich, the twins faced a bitter defeat against Amon, and they had dreamt of avenging that loss. If not for the restrictions placed on them, they would have barged straight into the Solaris House, slaughtering everyone that came in their way until Amon showed himself and offered his head on a platter.

"In the Prophet's absence, he has delegated me to lead the cult. I have issued an order for a three-day mourning period. The Demon Cult will cease its activities during this time, and we'll honour Sir Malachi's memory."

Sitting at the head of the table, Kieran, the second-in-command of the Demon Cult, explained his order calmly. Although if one looked closely, one could see his pointed horns trembling.

"..."

In stark contrast to the solemn faces around her, one person stood out, utterly indifferent to the mood in the room. A striking beauty with cascading blonde hair and piercing green eyes lounged in her seat, stifling a yawn as she stared blankly into the distance. Her posture was relaxed, almost lazy, and her expression made it clear: this entire meeting was nothing more than a tedious interruption to her day.

"Isadora, did you hear what I said?"

"Yes," the woman replied lazily. "I will stop my activities accordingly."

"Good."

"Heh, so what happens when an Apostle dies? Does his gospel disperse? Or will we absorb them into ours?"

Samael, the only other person with a clear mind, questioned their de facto leader and strategist. Kieran narrowed his eyes and let out a fatigued sigh: "Don't be such an opportunist. You have enough followers in the Gospel of Chaos, don't try to expand your influence."

"Oh my, was it obvious?"

Samael flashed his brilliant white teeth and kicked his feet on the table, as if his earlier grief was all an act. No, knowing the Apostle of Chaos, Kieran knew that he didn't care about Malachi's death. Just how he could benefit from it.

While the Demon Cult was united under one umbrella to serve the Demon King, they were split according to their gospels—and each Apostle.

Subservience, Chaos, Domination, Grief, Lust, and Vengeance.

Six Gospels, six Apostles.

But now that they had one less Apostle, the Gospel was doomed to disband… unless someone could take Malachi's place.

"I have plans for the cultists following the Gospel of Subservience. Don't worry, they will be put to good use for our plan."

"Tch, you're just going to absorb them into your Gospel! What a blatant abuse of power!"

"Careful now, Samael."

Kieran paused, and a chilling gleam flickered in his eyes, a deadly light that seemed to pierce through the soul. To meet his gaze was to invite ruin. In that brief moment of eye contact, his opponents would feel their minds buckle under an invisible pressure, as if the very air had turned to lead.

A primal sense of inferiority would flood their thoughts, unbidden and absolute. It wasn't just fear—it was submission. As though something within them was compelled to kneel… and call him King.

But Kieran's opponent wasn't any lesser being. Empowered by Zuphil's baptism, Samael had transcended the limits of regular Apostles and was, by far, the most powerful Demonic Human on the planet. He countered Kieran's mental pressure, forcing the second-in-command to click his tongue and release his mana.

"Heheheh, your tricks will no longer work on me, Apostle of Domination."

"..."

Realising he was at a disadvantage, Kieran didn't dare push the matter further and was forced to respond to Samael's accusation.

"While we would like to find a suitable replacement for Sir Malachi, there aren't any Apostle candidates in the Gospel of Subservience. So, they will be reassigned to a different faction for our next major plan."

"And what plan is that?"

"Our plan to usurp the Holy Church."

The biggest thorn in the Demon Cult's scheme to dominate the world wasn't the Solaris House, and it wasn't the Hyades Republic either. It was the organisation that held all the faith of humans—the Holy Church.

If they could somehow convert all humans to follow the Demon Cult, there would be no need for a war.

"Our spies are already deeply infiltrated within the Holy Church, and they managed to create a rift within them. It is only a matter of time before the Holy Church splits in two. By then, our faction within them will need all the help they can get."

The Holy Church, while monolithic, had two major factions within it. The most prominent of them was the faction supporting the Saintess and the Hero. The other was led by the Pope and other Archbishops who aimed to give more control to the Holy Church as an organisation. They even suggested forcing the Hero to join their ranks and place him as a figurehead for the Holy Church.

But there was another faction that had been secretly gathering strength, one that could potentially threaten the delicate balance between the two factions.

"The Utopia Church. A denomination that believes all humans were created to enjoy life to the fullest. A promising young Archbishop leads it, but that man's true identity is an agent of our Cult."

"Hoh, we even have an Archbishop under our ranks?"

Samael whistled with genuine awe.

"Just so," Kieran nodded. "He has converted a sizable number of the Holy Church to join his Utopia Church denomination. All he needs is an order from us, and we can swallow them whole."

"Wow, so he must be quite powerful?"

"Powerful… Yes, he's quite the monster."

Kieran smiled grimly as he spoke: "If the Prophet didn't have a leash on him, he would possess the power to threaten our cult."

"..."

That declaration silenced the room. All of the Apostles were battle-blessed and could go toe-to-toe with the strongest people in the world. Yet, Kieran was claiming that this one man could take them all down?

"Ah, don't get me wrong. His physical traits or magic power aren't very high. Mana-wise, he'd nothing significant either. He's likely on the same level as any ordinary Archbishop."

"Then…"

"But what he does have… is a trump card blessed by the Prophet himself."

"Heh, no need to be so cryptic. What is it?"'

"Well… It might be easier to show you."

With a sharp snap of Kieran's fingers, the heavy chamber doors groaned open. In stepped a striking figure, a handsome cleric dressed in immaculate robes, his every movement exuding grace and confidence.

A radiant smile played on his lips, disarming and magnetic. His golden hair cascaded like rays of sunlight, framing a face so flawless it seemed sculpted by divine hands. His emerald eyes sparkled with an alluring charm, drawing attention with an almost supernatural pull.

There wasn't a single blemish to mar his perfect features.

He didn't just look like an angel—he looked like the high heavens themselves had sent him.

And as the man raised his head to meet the Apostles… he did the unthinkable.

The Archbishop… cried.

"Ah!!! My lady, you have led a terrible life!"

The first Apostle he addressed was Ravenna, the Apostle of Grief. Kneeling on one knee, he held both her hands together and bawled his eyes out. The Apostles, unsure of what kind of situation was unfolding, held their breaths as the cleric wiped his tears with Ravenna's fingers.

"It is all okay now, I'm here to save you! Join the Church of Utopia, and I will give you eternal bliss for the rest of your life!"

"..."

Ravenna scowled, thoroughly disgusted by the man's sudden arrival. Yet, she couldn't muster up the strength to push him away. Oddly, there was a magnetic pull to his madness. Something that the Apostle couldn't quite understand. Just by staring into his eyes, she could feel her heart's wounds healing, and that was intoxicating… dangerously so.

"You two, too! My, you have been through the gutter! Join my Church, and I will make sure you never have to suffer again!!!"

He then turned to Dante and Damien, who visibly flinched at the Archbishop's sudden declaration. Irritated by his behaviour, Dante threw a punch right at the handsome man's face, but it stopped right before his eyes.

"Don't worry, I trust you."

"Y-You bastard! What did you do?!"

"Helpless child, come to my embrace! I will guide you to joy and peace!"

The man stood and embraced the frozen Dante, and unknowingly, tears began to form within the Apostle's eyes. He could feel his entire history and trauma being sunk into the mire of the Archbishop's love, and was comforted by his touch.

For a brief moment, the Apostle of Vegenance forgot his revenge and was about to throw it all away to join the mysterious cleric.

"That's enough," Kieran stopped the Archbishop before he had the chance to make the final conversion. "Nirvana, I banned you from using your powers on members of the cult."

"Oh my, Lord Kieran! My power doesn't have an off-switch! The love of Nirvana Karmam is universal and ever-lasting!"

"Hah…"

As Kieran and the rest of the Apostles saw how easily Nirvana had taken down two of their own, one thought was universal in their minds.

The Prophet had created a monster.