Not-So an Extra

"Aarrggh!!"

"Run!!"

The Kearny soldiers were scrambling in all directions on the battlefield.

Their faces twisted in terror and horror, they desperately tried to evade the relentless volley of earth spears that rained down on them. 

A man clad in light armor stood in the meadow, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword hanging from his waist.

Behind him, a group of Aeon knights stood at the ready, awaiting his command.

Fixating his gaze on the enemy in the distance, Asher swiftly drew his sword. 

In the blink of an eye, a blindingly blue light in the shape of a crescent moon cut through the air and hurtled toward the enemy.

As the Kearny soldiers were too busy running, they didn't realize that an attack was rushing toward them.

—Splat!

The sound of flesh being torn apart filled the air, accompanied by the agonizing screams of the soldiers. 

"Argh!!"

"Urgh!!"

Blood rained down on the ground, painting the soil a deep shade of red. 

Their upper halves crumpled to the ground, while their lower bodies continued to move for a few more steps before they too succumbed to gravity.

The sight was gruesome, with human limbs scattered across the battlefield like discarded toys.

"M-my leg!!"

"Arrghh!! My hand!!"

The surviving soldiers wailed in agony upon realizing that their limbs were gone; hands, fingers, legs. 

The attack unleashed by Asher was not ordinary, it was the famous Aura Blade.

In addition to the Sword of Elementals, there was another force known as Aura—a power that originated from one's soul.

Although most beings had souls, few could harness their power.

In the past, there was a Swordsman who managed to wield the power of Aura. 

He was so formidable on the battlefield that people began to call him a Sword Master.

Over time, the ability to exert Aura became a mandatory requirement for attaining the highest title of Swordsman—that of Sword Master.

Manifesting Aura was never easy since it required high feats of harmony between willpower, mental strength, and Mana.

Users who were able to utilize Aura were granted other abilities commensurate with the difficulty level of mastering it, such as increased awareness, speed, and strength.

"Ah…"

Upon seeing the incomplete corpses strewn haphazardly at their feet, the enemy's faces turned ashen.

"CHARGE!!"

"Huaaa!!"

Recovering from their shock, the enemy turned towards the voice. 

The Aeon Knights were seen drawing their swords and marching forward towards them.

"Arrgghh!!"

.

.

.

On the other side of the battlefield, the deafening clash of swords and the piercing screams of agony echoed throughout the area.

The ground was littered with the bodies of fallen soldiers, their blood staining the earth a deep crimson.

—Bang! —Bang! —Bang!

Amidst the chaos, a white-masked man was seen slipping unnoticed into the enemy's rearguard, moving with the stealth of a shadow and disappearing into the darkness.

—Splat! 

"Urk!"

The enemy's hand clutched his neck as blood gushed out of the wound. 

He staggered for a moment before collapsing to the ground, his body convulsing in its final moments.

"Urg!"

Another soldier echoed the same sound, blood sprayed out from his throat, and fell to the floor lifeless.

"Ugh!"

One by one, they fell to the ground with their necks slashed open.

Seeing a man next to him abruptly sink, he shouted.

"Wh-what happened to—!"

But before he could finish his sentence, a figure appeared behind him, swiftly slitting his throat before disappearing into the shadows once again.

—Splat! —Splat! —Splat!

The sound of steel slicing through flesh echoed through the air.

The soldiers tried to defend themselves, but it was no use. 

They were being picked off one by one without being able to put up a fight. 

As soldiers continued to fall with blood spewing from their necks, panic broke out and their formation began to falter.

.

.

.

With the ditches closed and the fog dismissed, the battlefield came into clearer view.

"Cough, cough!"

Adrian's slender hand instinctively flew to his mouth as a sudden coughing fit overtook him.

"Cough, cough!"

A gush of blood spurted out, staining his fingers crimson. 

Wiping his jaw with the back of his hand, Adrian's icy eyes cerulean landed on the meadow where the war was raging on.

Upon seeing how the battle unfolded, he thought that there was nothing to worry about the enemy at the frontline.

Now—

Adrian veered around toward the Refugee Camp and the clamor of collided swords filled the air.

'Let's take care of the shit here.'

Looking down below, he could see how Gizel and his team fought the knights while protecting the neighboring Princes and Princesses.

—Bang!

A shower of sparks erupted from the blades, illuminating the battlefield when Gizel's sword clashed with the enemy's.

With a forceful shove, the purple-haired man sent the enemy staggering backward. 

Unbeknownst to him, a magic circle formed behind his opponent, shooting an earth palisade that struck his back.

"Urg!!'

Blood jumped out of the wounds right after the enemy's chest was lanced through.

"Hiyaa!!"

Another foe rushed in and Gizel hastily stood on guard, however—

"Urk!!"

Suddenly, the man fell to the ground, and an ice spike lodged into the back of his neck.

Not only him but the enemies surrounding him and his team suddenly plummeted to the ground with their napes pierced by the same object.

Gizel looked up and when their eyes met, the Professor nodded his head, gesturing a gratitude and Adrian followed suit.

Switching his attention to the surroundings, Adrian couldn't help but cluck his tongue in annoyance.

"Tsk."

He wanted to help, but the armor-clad knights all wore the same uniform, making it difficult to differentiate between allies and foes.

'There must be something…'

He knew that there must be some way to distinguish between the two, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Adrian's eyes darted from left to right, scanning for any clues.

It was then that he noticed some of the knights had a black piece of cloth tied to their wrists.

Looking back at the corpses around Gizel, he saw they were wearing the same thing.

He searched the bodies of the archers he had killed and found they too were wearing the black cloth.

Without wasting any more time, Adrian conjured more ice plates and used them as stepping stones to make his way toward the center of the refugee camp.

Arriving at the center of the Refugee Camp, Adrian quickly recited a spell.

"אינספור קוצי קרח."

A massive Magic Circle, shimmering with a brilliant golden hue, materialized above him. 

As it greedily absorbed his Mana, the Circle erupted with sharp ice spikes sliding out from within. 

The spikes multiplied rapidly, their numbers increasing with each passing moment.

As the moonlight was suddenly obscured, the people below couldn't help but look upward. 

To their surprise, something imitating a dandelion appeared to be hanging in the sky.

With a swipe of his hand, Adrian sent a flurry of ice spikes raining down on the enemy soldiers with deadly accuracy.

Each one found its intended target, piercing the necks of the unsuspecting soldiers with a loud thud.

"Urk!"

"Argh!"

"Ugh!"

There were anguished cries, cries of agony when they felt the freezing spikes pierce their skin.

Blood erupted from their throats, and one by one they crumpled to the mud, lifeless—drenching the earth in a sea of crimson.

The sound of battle faded away, replaced by an eerie silence that settled over the refugee camp. 

The people who had been clamoring for war just moments before now stood frozen in shock, their eyes fixed on the gruesome scene before them.

"Cough, cough!"

Adrian fell to his knees and he coughed heavily with blood gushing out of his mouth.

"Ah, fuck."

The white-haired man cursed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his Mana Exhaustion symptoms were growing worse by the moment.

"Haa… haa…"

His breathing was shallow and labored, and he could feel his chest tightening with each passing second.

His vision became hazy and shadowed, he felt as though he was looking through a thick fog; barely making out the shapes and colors around him.

Despite all of those, Adrian forced himself to stand up, his legs shaking beneath him.

Nevertheless, as he rose to his feet, suddenly, his eyelids felt heavy and his body went limp.

"Huh?"

With that, everything went dark and Adrian's body lurched down.

Thankfully, Gizel was quick to react and caught Adrian's falling body just in time, preventing him from crashing to the ground.

With a serene expression, he looked at Adrian through his citrine eyes and smiled warmly.

"You did great, Your Highness."

.

.

.

"Why is that brat so obsessed with magic making massive Magic Circles?! Is that his new hobby?!" 

Nathaniel shouted in frustration upon glimpsing at a new Magic Circle on top of the Refugee Camp whilst slashing the opponent's neck in front of him.

"Argh!"

The enemy clutched his throat and staggered backward before falling to the ground.

"I will definitely—"

However, before he could finish his sentence, the ground trembled followed by galloping horses echoing behind them.

·ƈθm —Gallop —Gallop —Gallop

Nathaniel peeked behind his shoulder and saw a group of cavalry marching in their direction.