The Extra Who Shouldn’t Exist

In the depths of the forest—within a twisted, suffocating dimension—Aaron Snyde stood like an unmoving monolith.

This realm was his creation, a sealed space woven for one purpose: to ensure his disciples completed their task—kidnapping the Hero.

The cult had long since decided that the hero's blood, now awakened, had become the single most valuable resource imaginable for their research. For Aaron, successfully delivering it would mean not only unimaginable prestige but also a higher position within the cult's hierarchy.

And so, he had prepared everything.

A fleet brimming with Advance-rank soldiers. An entire squadron of Expert-ranks. Three of the most powerful Master-ranks under their banner. And as the finishing blade, his own disciples—Veyra and Veyron—monsters so talented that the cult had granted them the privilege of signing contracts with the Outer Gods themselves, becoming Avatars.

By all accounts, their victory had been inevitable.

So when Aaron laid eyes on Veyra and Veyron now—half-naked, broken, and lying in the dirt—his mind stalled in disbelief.

'Impossible… They were chosen precisely to counter the hero's bloodline abilities. Against Ethan, they should have struggled a little bit but won eventually.'

He had avoided direct intervention, aware that the moment he acted, the monsters within the Avaloria Empire would notice. But now…

Worse still, his meticulous plan had seemed flawless. When he teleported Ethan and his companions into this dimension, he had taken more than just the hero. The Crestvale heir, Alden. The Imperial Princess, Charlotte Evans Avaloria. Seraphina Styralight, a renowned genius. Draven Storm Everforge, dwarven prince.

Each a prize in their own right. Their capture would have cemented his standing.

Yet all of that had been thrown into chaos by a silver-haired variable he had not foreseen.

Aaron's gaze narrowed.

'That boy… dangerous. If he can surpass even the hero's strength, he's a threat beyond calculation. It's a good thing I killed him in one blow.'

The punch Aaron had delivered had been at full force. A Grandmaster's blow against an Expert-rank—survival should have been impossible. In his mind, the boy was already dead.

But as Aaron's eyes swept the carnage—severed heads, desiccated skeletons—an involuntary chill crawled up his spine. His fists clenched, the air around him distorting as his suppressed killing intent began to leak out.

Ethan and the others groaned faintly from where they lay face-down, Aaron's aura pressing on them like an ocean's weight, threatening to crush them into the earth.

He had been watching—always watching—from the moment this dimension was created. Confident in his disciples, he had allowed events to unfold. Now, he realized it was a mistake.

---

Veyron, still sprawled in the dirt, looked up with tearful relief.

"Master! You're here!"

Veyra, half-naked and with a gaping wound in her chest, did not speak. But even in her ruin, a faint smile curved her lips—like a predator seeing the tide of the hunt shift in their favor.

Aaron's eyes hardened. In an instant, he produced two crystal vials—Advance-rank healing potions, each worth millions—and pressed them into their hands. He also tossed them fresh garments.

"Drink."

The liquid glowed faintly as it slid down their throats. Within moments, torn flesh knit back together, Veyra's chest wound sealing as if it had never been there. Veyron's severed limbs regenerated in seconds, fingers flexing as if they had never been lost.

Veyron smirked, strength flooding his frame again. Now, with their master here, victory felt inevitable. Yet the memory of humiliation still burned in his mind. His eyes roamed the battlefield, hunting for the silver-haired devil who had disgraced him.

"Where is that bastard? I want him to act cocky now."

Aaron said with an expressionless face, "Don't worry. I took care of him."

At that, Veyron's face lit up and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Spotting Ethan, Alden, Charlotte, and the others pinned under Aaron's crushing aura, he strode toward them.

Reaching the hero, he drove his boot into Ethan's head.

"Where is that savior of yours now? Ah, right—he just died, didn't he?"

Then he began laughing frantically.

But Ethan's eyes weren't even on him.

In Ethan's mind, his voice was tight with urgency.

'Tiamat, how much longer will it take? We can't win against him—he's at least Grandmaster-rank.'

The ancient dragon god's voice rumbled through his thoughts, heavy with strain.

"[My heir… as a god, influencing the lower world directly is no easy matter. Restrictions delay the teleportation you requested. It will take a few more minutes.]"

Ethan's pulse quickened. 'That's too long.'

"[And there's another problem,]" Tiamat added grimly. "[When the process begins, you must keep the scar-faced man occupied. This is his dimension. He can halt the teleportation at will if left unchallenged.]"

Ethan's stomach sank. 'That's impossible… Alex was killed off in one punch. None of us can hold him off.'

Aaron took a step forward, his shadow stretching over them.

"Because of you, I've suffered massive losses. You'll all pay with your blood."

Veyron removed his foot from Ethan's head as Aaron closed the distance, his large hand snapping out to grip Ethan by the neck.

Lifting him effortlessly, Aaron's voice was low and cold.

"If you had come quietly, I wouldn't have gone through all this trouble. Now… you'll watch every one of them die before your eyes."

His gaze cut toward his disciples.

"Veyra. Veyron. Kill the survivors—except the princess and the noble heirs."

Veyron's lips curled.

"Master… I won't kill the noble heirs. But I can torture them, right?"

Aaron's eyes narrowed. Then, after a moment's pause—

"Fine. Do as you like. But hurry. We need to leave before we're discovered."

Veyron clicked his tongue but nodded.

His eyes swept over the helpless group. Then he stopped, gaze landing on Carter and Ava.

'They're not nobles… so I can kill them. And even if I have a little fun first, Master won't notice.'

Slowly, he began to walk toward them, savoring their vulnerability. Carter glared up at him, Ava's breath quickening as her body trembled under the weight of Aaron's aura.

And then—

A voice rolled through the forest like the toll of a death bell.

"It looks like you still haven't learned your lesson… have you?"

The air shifted.

Veyron froze mid-step.

Hearing the same voice that had reduced him to a trembling wreck not long ago, Veyron's knees almost gave out.

His breath hitched as his head snapped left and right, scanning the shadows with frantic, jerky movements.

'No… no, no… it can't be him… I saw him take that punch… I know he should be dead—even Master said he was dead.'

And then he saw it.

A figure slowly emerged from between the shattered trees, each step deliberate. Silver hair matted with blood clung to his face, his clothes torn and soaked in crimson. He walked with a limp, but in his grip, the black blade still gleamed with that impossible deadly shimmer, its edge drinking in the light.

Alex Dragonheart.

Even beaten and bloodied, his gaze was unshaken—cold, steady, and utterly unafraid. Not even the Grandmaster standing before him drew the slightest flicker of fear from those eyes.

Aaron's own breath caught, his expression tightening in genuine shock.

'Impossible. That punch… I hit him with my full power. An Expert-rank should have been obliterated. How—'

Ethan's eyes widened from where Aaron still held him by the neck.

'He's… alive? After taking that hit?'

Charlotte, Alden, Seraphina, Draven, Ava, even Carter—all of them stared as if they were looking at something unnatural. Relief mixed with disbelief.

Alex's gaze slid past Aaron's massive frame, landing squarely on Ethan. He noticed the hero blinking rapidly, shaking off whatever daze Aaron's aura had forced on him.

Then Ethan's lips moved soundlessly, just for Alex to see.

"Buy me some time… I have a plan."

Alex's eyes narrowed faintly, but he gave the smallest nod.

No words. No theatrics. Just that silent agreement.

He shifted his stance, planting his bloodied boots into the dirt, the black blade lowering slightly at his side as his fingers tightened on the hilt.

And though he stood before an enemy far beyond his current rank could ever hope to defeat, there was no hesitation in him.

'Fine, Lizard man. I'll buy you your time… no matter what it costs me. So make it count and save us all.'

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A/N:

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