Why is Background Character the Strongest Now?

Ezra's thoughts wandered as he leaned back in his chair, the quiet hum of the academy hallway offering little distraction.

In the original timeline, Halden Kairen had appeared only in the final hundred chapters—a terrifying presence from the Denom faction, one of their strongest fighters. He was the one who assassinated the Fist Emperor, an act that ignited Dravis's legendary vengeance.

Dravis had killed Halden, yes. But the victory came at a cost. The battle left him crippled, unfit to participate in the final confrontation against Vorthas Vel Azriel. That one misstep changed the fate of the war.

But things were already different now.

Ezra exhaled sharply.

Xavier was the villain in the original timeline. What happened at Blackridge had never even been mentioned.

This was no longer the same world.

And Halden Kairen? In the original, he had survived. Slipped through the cracks unnoticed. But this time…

Ren Kurogane was after him.

That monster doesn't let prey escape.

Ezra's fingers curled slightly on the armrest.

He's not making it out alive this time.

Just then, the assistant to the principal appeared at the doorway, bowing politely. Her eyes, however, flicked to someone seated beside him.

"You may go in now," she said, her voice gentle but formal.

Ezra stood. "Let's go."

Elia nodded silently, her silver-white hair reflecting the corridor's soft lighting as she rose beside him.

Together, they walked down the polished stone hallway toward the principal's office, the heavy doors parting with a faint hum.

Inside, Principal Lyssara was seated behind a vast oak desk, her quill scratching across parchment with quick, elegant strokes. She didn't look up as they entered.

"Sit," she said, her voice clipped and composed.

Ezra and Elia quietly took their seats on the leather sofa opposite her desk. The office smelled faintly of old books and fresh ink—nostalgic and oppressive all at once.

Lyssara finally looked up, setting the quill down.

"I've heard from your master," she began, her violet eyes locking onto Ezra with unsettling clarity. "You fought a Rank 6… and you're still at Rank 4."

She paused, her tone unreadable.

"That is… impressive. Exceptionally so. In fact, in the entire recorded history of this academy—perhaps even in human history—you might be the most naturally talented student we've ever seen."

There was no exaggeration in her voice. No awe. Just a statement of fact.

Ezra gave a short nod, voice calm.

"Thank you for your kind words, Principal Lyssara."

Lyssara leaned back in her chair, folding one leg over the other as her gaze shifted from Ezra to the silver-haired girl beside him.

She studied her for a moment, then spoke.

"Lady Seraphine… I must admit, I still find it hard to believe. After all these years, someone with holy power still exists in this world. Can you show it to me?"

Elia offered a small nod of respect. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sword Saintess. Your dedication to the path of cultivation and your feats in the war have reached far… even to the isolated remnants of the divine order."

Then her expression stiffened slightly. "But before I reveal anything… can you ensure that my existence—my power—will not be made public?"

Lyssara raised a brow. "And why, exactly, do you wish to hide it? If the Human Council learns of your existence, they'll offer you full protection. Possibly even sanctuary in the Sky Citadel."

Elia's voice grew cold. "I don't trust humanity anymore."

A tense silence filled the room.

Lyssara narrowed her eyes slightly. "What do you mean by that?"

Elia's lips parted slowly, her voice quiet but bitter.

"It's true. The blessed… we believers of the gods, we strayed. We grew arrogant. The blessings stopped, yes. But the true reason we were wiped out… wasn't divine punishment."

She looked down, her hands resting on her lap.

"It was greed. Human greed."

Her voice hardened.

"When the demons offered power, gold, ancient relics… humans turned on us. They hunted us. Betrayed us. Not all—no, not all—but enough. We were never large in number. And as our light began to fade, the Human Council—your so-called guardians of balance—stood idle."

She looked up, eyes like frozen moonlight.

"They let us die. And in the end… I remained."

Lyssara's expression shifted. For the first time, a hint of regret touched her features.

"I understand your distrust. But the Council isn't a monolith. You know this. The war against the demonic factions wasn't one-sided. The largest assault was led by the Sword Emperor Valerius himself. He destroyed two of the Twelve Demonic Orders. Killed two Rank 9 devils. He gave his life for that war."

Her tone was sharp now—proud, but not unkind.

"He was a martyr. A man who died protecting your kind."

Elia closed her eyes for a moment, then gave a solemn nod.

"I believe that. But the corruption runs too deep. Please… just this once. Let me stay hidden."

Before Lyssara could respond, Ezra finally spoke, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Let's agree to her request," he said firmly. "I've already signed a death-bound mana contract with her. Her safety is tied to mine."

Lyssara looked at him, long and unreadable. After a few seconds, she exhaled through her nose.

"Very well," she said at last. "I'll keep your identity a secret, Lady Seraphine."

Then she stood, brushing a few papers aside with a flick of her hand. "Now… shall we go? Xavier is unconscious and waiting for treatment."

With a small snap of her fingers, the air shimmered. Space bent.

A burst of light engulfed the room and the three of them vanished from the office.

______________________

Moments later, the three of them reappeared.

The world around them warped and reshaped—until they stood in a dimly lit room buried somewhere deep beneath the academy. The air was thick. Stale. A faint scent of blood, rust, and rotting metal clung to the stone walls.

Lanterns glowed weakly on the corners of the chamber, but they barely held back the darkness.

In the center of the room… lay a bed.

Xavier.

His body looked gaunt and still, as though he hadn't moved in days. Black miasmic veins crawled up from beneath his skin—like cursed ink soaking through parchment. A foul aura radiated from his chest, twisting the air around him. His lips were pale. His breathing shallow.

Beside him, in another bed, lay a girl—sixteen at most. She resembled him enough to tell they were siblings. But her condition was worse. Her arm was wrapped in cloth soaked with a dull gray fluid. Her veins were blackened too. Her body trembled slightly in fevered sleep.

The corruption had taken root deep within her.

Neither stirred.

Elia stepped forward without waiting for instruction. She didn't speak.

She simply walked.

Her steps were soundless. Her silver-white hair flowed gently behind her like moonlight caught in motion.

As she reached Xavier's bedside, the air itself seemed to still.

Then—her hands moved.

She brought them together in front of her chest, her eyes closing, and whispered something under her breath. Words no one in the room could understand—ancient, foreign, divine.

And then...

Light.

A blinding, radiant burst of holy energy erupted from her palms. But it was not wild. It was controlled. Warm. Gentle.

Pure.

It shone not like a spell, but like dawn breaking through eternal night.

The light poured down on Xavier, and at once, the miasma writhed violently. It sizzled. Screamed. The black veins on his face twitched, recoiling as if in agony. Dark mist erupted from his body like smoke driven out of a sacred shrine.

Elia's eyes opened—glowing gold now. Not with anger. Not with power. But with grace.

Ezra watched in silence.

Even Lyssara, once called the Sword Saintess, remained still, her usual sharp gaze softening as if witnessing something from a forgotten age.

Elia raised her hands again, and this time, the golden light bathed Xavier entirely.

It wasn't fire. It wasn't mana.

It was something else.

Something older.

Divine Mercy.

The black marks across Xavier's body faded one by one. His chest stopped heaving. His expression relaxed. And then, with a deep gasp—his first real breath in days—his eyes opened, clear and sharp.

He blinked. Confused. Alive.

Elia didn't stop. She turned to the other bed, where the girl lay barely conscious. The infection had spread further in her—through her lungs, up her spine.

Elia placed one hand gently on the girl's forehead.

Golden runes formed beneath her palm—intricate, delicate, celestial. The light passed through the girl's body, and the miasma in her shrieked in pain.

The room smelled of purged rot, burning filth, and…

Lilies.

As the light passed through the young girl, the color returned to her cheeks. Her shivering stopped. Her eyes fluttered open, dazed but lucid.

Elia finally stepped back. Her breathing was slightly uneven now, but she kept her posture straight.

"It's done," she said softly.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Ezra took a step forward.

The holy light had faded, leaving only the soft glow of lanterns once more. The air, once thick with miasma, was now calm—cleansed. But in that silence, something else lingered.

A stillness.

As if the room itself was holding its breath.

Ezra looked at Elia. "Thank you, Lady Seraphine," he said, voice low and firm. "You've done more than I asked."

She didn't reply—just gave a faint nod, her silver lashes lowered, the divine glow slowly withdrawing from her fingers like a dying star.

Ezra turned to the bedside.

Xavier lay there, slowly blinking up at the ceiling. His chest rose and fell with quiet, even breaths. The black veins were gone. The fever had vanished. The pain… dulled.

He turned his head—slowly—toward the figure standing beside him.

And then he saw her.

His sister.

Asleep in the bed beside him, color returned to her cheeks, the twisted veins gone, her expression soft and peaceful for the first time in weeks.

A strangled sound escaped his throat.

His hand twitched.

His lips trembled.

"L-Lira…" he whispered.

He tried to sit up, but his body was weak, too weak. Instead, his hand reached out feebly toward her… and stopped mid-air, shaking.

"I thought… I thought I'd lost her…"

His voice cracked.

Ezra remained silent, watching.

Xavier looked at his hand. Then at her again. And then…

His body shook.

Tears welled up in his eyes—thick, hot, unstoppable.

"I begged… I begged every god I knew. I sold everything I had. Trained till I couldn't stand. Stole. Lied. Killed—just to buy her a few more days."

He clenched his fists, tears now streaming freely down his face.

"And none of it mattered."

He choked on a sob.

"No one came. No one helped. Everyone turned their backs when the miasma took her."

He looked up at Ezra through wet eyes.

"But you… you…"

Ezra stepped closer, calm as ever.

"I made you a promise," he said softly. "And I don't break my promises."

Xavier's eyes closed tightly, more tears falling. He tried to hold back, but the flood had already broken. He turned his face into the pillow, letting out a muffled sob, trembling like a boy finally allowed to feel.

"I thought I could protect her…"

"You did," Ezra said, kneeling beside the bed. "You endured. You lived long enough for help to arrive."

Xavier looked up again, voice hoarse.

"Why? Why help me? You barely knew me…"

Ezra looked him dead in the eyes. "Because I saw a man willing to burn the world for someone he loved. That's the kind of man I want at my side."

Then, slowly, Ezra extended his hand.

"I've kept my side of the deal," he said. "Now… will you become my sword?"

Xavier stared at the hand for a long moment.

And then, through the blur of tears and exhaustion, he reached up.

Their hands met, fingers tightening in a silent pact.

"I will," Xavier whispered, voice shaking. "I'll follow you. Fight for you. Die for you. Just… don't let me lose her again."

Ezra's grip tightened, steady as steel.

"Then stand up when you can," he said. "We've got a world to cut through."

Behind them, Lyssara stood in quiet reverence, and Elia turned away slightly, her own eyes misted.

This wasn't just the start of loyalty.

It was the birth of a sword… forged in grief.