Why is Background Character the Strongest Now?

Etherlight Academy – South Hallway

Ezra stepped out of Headmaster Lyssara's office, the heavy oak door closing behind him with a muted thud. The corridor ahead was bathed in the fading amber light of late afternoon, shadows stretching across polished stone. Students moved in small clusters, their footsteps echoing, their laughter dim in his ears.

Every step he took was steady, deliberate. His thoughts were already far ahead, past the conversation he had just finished.

Clearance granted. That's the first gate… Now comes the harder part—making sure every piece on the board moves exactly where I want it.

At the far end of the hallway, Xavier leaned casually against the wall, arms folded. The moment he spotted Ezra, he pushed off and asked,

"You got it?"

Ezra didn't slow. "We're cleared."

Xavier fell into stride beside him. His tone was casual, but his eyes were sharp. "You're sure about this? You know what you're getting into."

"Four members," Ezra replied, voice flat. "That's all the rules allow. That's why I'm only taking the ones worth taking."

A corner of Xavier's mouth lifted. "Is Renji really worth that spot?"

Ezra's gaze stayed fixed ahead. "Even I didn't know at first. He hides it… very well."

Renji Ashvale — the son of one of the Federation's wealthiest magnates. Publicly, he was known as a D-rank core holder who had reached mid Rank-1. Talented, yes, but not extraordinary.

At least, that's what everyone believed.

Ezra's mind replayed the moment that belief cracked. A spar, nothing serious—just enough to test him. Ezra had pressed, just a little too far. And for the briefest heartbeat, Renji's restraint slipped.

It wasn't skill. It wasn't training. It was raw, oppressive force—the kind that belonged to someone far beyond the rank he claimed.

Ezra had seen enough fighters to know the difference between talent and concealment.

And Renji wasn't hiding a small gap.

This was something else entirely.

Above Rank 5…? At his age?

Ezra's brows tightened, though his expression to Xavier remained unreadable.

"This wasn't supposed to be part of the story," he thought.

Renji was a variable. An unpredictable one. Ezra didn't like variables.

But variables could be turned into weapons.

He would make a deal with Renji—enough incentive to bind him to this expedition. In the dungeon, where danger stripped away pretenses, Ezra would force Renji to show his true strength.

When that moment came, there would be no going back.

⸻

Training Yard – East Wing

Marcus drove his magic into the wooden practice dummy, the impact thudding through the yard. Sweat clung to his brow, but his stance remained disciplined, each strike measured.

Daelen leaned casually against the fence, arms folded. "You're wasting your time worrying about them," he said. "Ezra isn't the type to walk into a deathtrap without a reason."

Marcus shook his head. "Unranked dungeons aren't just dangerous—they're unpredictable. No maps. No reliable records. Every step is a roll of the dice."

"Then stop rolling it in your head," Daelen replied flatly. "You're the leader here. Focus on your team. Distraction is the first crack in your defense."

Marcus halted mid-swing, his grip tightening on the weapon. "Ezra's our friend, Daelen."

Daelen's eyes narrowed slightly, the faintest shadow of a smirk touching his lips. "Yes… but friendship doesn't mean knowing everything. Ezra hasn't told you half of what he knows. He's been holding back since day one. My master never asked him as many questions as you're asking now—and even she didn't get straight answers."

He pushed off the fence. "That boy isn't just strong. He's shrewd—dangerously shrewd."

Marcus's frown deepened, the unease clear in his stance.

From across the yard, Evelyne walked over, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't like it either," she said quietly, "but Daelen's right. Ezra doesn't care about the normal path to victory. He's playing a different game entirely."

⸻

Student Commons – Evening

The commons hall buzzed with low chatter, the air thick with the scent of parchment and polished steel. Tables were littered with dungeon maps, mana scrolls, and neatly arranged gear. Teams clustered in tight groups—some whispering like conspirators, others boasting loud enough to draw glares.

At a corner table sat Selene Veyra—a name known to a few, remembered by fewer. She wasn't from a famous bloodline, nor did she wear a noble crest on her uniform. Her support came from a mid-tier adventurers' guild, and her presence at the Academy was a gamble they had invested heavily in. For her, winning this exam wasn't about pride. It was survival.

She studied a parchment map of the lower valley, her hand steady. "Rank Two ice-type," she said to the two students seated with her. "Manageable. If we keep a hard pace, we clear it in under two days."

The shorter of the two, a pale-haired mage, frowned. "Safe doesn't win. Not this year. The scoring will be brutal."

"That's why we clear one dungeon first," Selene replied, her voice calm but edged with certainty. "If the first run is flawless, then we attempt a second. Dead students don't collect points."

Her crystal phone vibrated softly on the table. She glanced at the name, excused herself, and moved toward the hallway's shadows.

"Miss Veyra," a low voice greeted her when she answered, "we've secured your order. Where should we deliver it?"

"Tell the entrance guards to hold it," she said. "I'll collect it myself."

She ended the call, sliding the device into her pocket. A faint, dangerous light glimmered in her eyes.

She had just secured something that could tilt the entire exam in her favor—

—and she intended to use it to make sure a commoner's name stood at the very top of the rankings.

Ezra's Dorm – Later That Night

The dorm room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a crystal lamp on the desk. A map of Silvermist Valley lay spread across the surface, with small metal markers placed at irregular points.

Renji traced a finger along the faded contour lines. "So these… are the compressed mana zones?"

Ezra nodded. "The last known scans, from four years ago. Most of the markers have shifted since then, but the core locations stay the same."

Xavier leaned forward, studying the layout. "And we're entering from the east instead of the main gate?"

"Yes," Ezra said. "Everyone expects the main gate approach. We'll avoid the initial spawn zone entirely and start near the second-layer collapse. Less resistance, faster access to the pockets."

Dravis's eyes narrowed. "You're not telling us everything."

Ezra met his gaze. "No. Not yet. The fewer people who know the full picture, the harder it is for anyone to ruin it."

There was silence for a moment. Then Dravis smirked. "Fair enough."

Ezra leaned back. "We have seven days. That's enough to tune our gear, stock supplies, and train for rapid disengagement. If the dungeon's level is what I think it is, we'll need it."

—————

Somewhere Beneath the City – Undisclosed Chamber

The room was swallowed in shadow, its only light a faint, pulsing glow from an orb suspended in the center. Dust motes drifted in the stale air, moving like sluggish insects under that dim illumination.

From the darkness at the far wall, a shape began to emerge—first the vague outline of a hood, then the sharper edges of a mask etched with intricate, curling patterns. The figure's presence seemed to warp the silence, as though sound itself dared not linger too long near them.

"The target," the masked one spoke, voice like a whisper caught between two breaths, "will appear beyond the Academy's walls within the week. I will provide you with his movements. When the moment comes… capture him."

A second silhouette materialized at the edge of the light, lowering their head in acknowledgment. "Yes."

For a few moments, the orb pulsed soundlessly. Then the masked figure gave a quiet, humorless chuckle.

"Who would have thought… that prophecy from that decrepit old goat would inch toward fulfillment?"

"We cannot be certain yet," the second replied. "But his growth rate… it is abnormal. Unchecked, it will become a problem."

A pause, as if the air itself hesitated before carrying the next words.

"Oh? Then tell me—why not take the boy named Ezra instead? His presence disrupts more than you realize. He is far more dangerous than the target you've given me."

The masked figure tilted their head, the patterns on their mask catching the faint glow.

"Dangerous? Yes. But the Master has no interest in him. Strength is nothing without the weight of fate. And Ezra's string… is frayed, unbound, unblessed. Such a thread will snap long before it can weave into history."

The second figure's tone sharpened. "Even so—Ezra has already interfered. If not for him searching for that girl… Halden's plans would still be intact."

"Do not trouble yourself." The masked one stepped closer, their shadow stretching like black ink across the floor. "Elia will come to us. She simply does not know it yet."

The orb's light flickered, as if reacting to the next command.

"Now… go. Bring me the boy Daelen Voncrest."

The second bowed once more, then melted back into the darkness. The last sound before the chamber was swallowed in stillness again was the faint hiss of a door closing, though no hinges creaked and no handle turned.