An Extra’s Rise in an Eroge

Far from the hunting site…

Spurt—

Blood sprayed across the ground, soaking the woman's uniform crimson. The corpse of a tier-6 beast collapsed with a heavy thud, its body still twitching as she yanked her blade free. With a sharp kick, she sent the carcass rolling across the dirt, treating it like refuse.

"These mutated boars are annoying," she said coldly, running a bloodied hand through her hair. "Hard to kill, worthless when dead, and not even a mana stone inside. Pathetic."

Emily's brows knitted together as she watched.

This woman is too much… she thought. Our task was to suppress monsters that might slip past the first-years. Yet she's butchering them like she enjoys the blood.

Her thoughts shattered at the sudden sound that ripped through the air.

KRRRRIIIIIIING!

KRRRRIIIIIIING!

A piercing screech echoed across the field, followed by screams—raw, terrified, unmistakably human.

Emily froze. "What was that?"

She instantly reached for her communication crystal, attempting to connect with the control station.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

No response.

Her face darkened. "No signal… something's wrong."

Oliver, ever calm, narrowed his eyes. "A disturbance at this scale? First-years are in danger."

Noah's lips curved into a sharp grin. "Finally, something worth my time."

Oliver's glare cut through him. "Mind your tongue, Noah. This isn't a playground. Students' lives are at stake."

Noah clicked his tongue and shrugged. "Tch. You're no fun, President."

"Amara," Oliver ordered, "send a message to the higher authorities. If the control station is silent, then we're the only line of defense. We move. Now."

They sprinted toward the source of the screams. What awaited them at the exit froze them in their tracks.

Chaos.

Dozens of massive golems—constructs that should have been under academy control—were rampaging across the grounds. Their once orderly formations had dissolved into carnage, mechanical fists smashing into students with lethal force. They weren't pulling blows, weren't halting when students dropped to their knees in surrender. They were killing.

Screams tore through the air as blood sprayed across the grass. First-years scrambled, some summoning weak spells, others slashing wildly with swords too light to do more than scratch stone skin. The emergency signal flares went off across the field—yet none of them reached help.

Emily's eyes widened. "The comms are jammed."

"This isn't a malfunction," Amara said sharply, her voice ice-cold. "Someone tampered with them. This… is deliberate."

Oliver's jaw tightened. "We'll deal with that later. Right now, we end this slaughter."

With a sudden burst of speed, he lunged forward. His sword gleamed with mana as it cleaved through a golem's chest, the blade slicing clean through the glowing core. The construct collapsed instantly, sparks spraying across the dirt.

Noah's grin widened. "Finally—blood-pumping action." He drove his fist into a golem's abdomen. The impact detonated the core in a thunderous explosion, shards of stone scattering like shrapnel.

Emily raised her staff, weaving intricate patterns in the air. A volley of blazing fire lances streaked out, piercing golems one after another. The smell of molten stone and scorched metal filled the air.

Amara was more methodical. Her chains whipped out like serpents, wrapping around one golem's limbs and wrenching them apart. The crunch of breaking stone echoed as she dragged its struggling body down and crushed the core beneath her heel.

The difference in power was night and day.

The first-years, panting and bleeding, could only stare as the Student Council carved through the berserk constructs with terrifying ease. Where moments ago they had been hopeless prey, now they were spectators to an overwhelming display of force.

"Monsters…" one muttered, eyes wide in awe and fear. "They're monsters themselves…"

Another, clutching his bleeding arm, whispered hoarsely, "No… they're… our saviors."

Within minutes, the battlefield was transformed. Where once the golems stood tall, now shattered husks littered the ground, sparks fizzling out in silence.

Oliver wiped his blade clean, scanning the trembling students. His voice was calm, authoritative, but carrying weight. "Everyone, regroup. The attack was orchestrated. This is no simple malfunction. Stay sharp—whoever did this will not stop here."

The exhausted students exchanged fearful glances. Relief and dread mixed in their eyes. They were alive—saved by the council.

~~~~

Inside the hunting grounds, Arthur stood amidst the dense curtain of trees, the air heavy with the musk of damp earth and foliage. His eyes narrowed as a faint vibration rippled beneath his boots. A low growl, guttural and hungry, slithered up from the soil.

Pathetic.

Another subterranean beast, daring to believe he was prey. It was burrowing directly beneath him, its anticipation painted across the tremors in the earth. Arthur didn't even flinch. A flick of his wrist channeled a pulse of raw mana, threads of fire and stone interweaving in silence. The ground split open with a muted rumble before erupting into a jet of molten rock.

The monster's panicked screech tore through the still air—only to die just as quickly as its charred body was spat back up, smoking and limp.

Arthur exhaled. "One down."

But it was far from over.

He could feel them—their killing intent lurking like shadows in the periphery. Dozens. At least third or even fourth-tier monsters circling him, weaving through tree roots, camouflaged in the brush, waiting for an opening. His lips curved into a grin.

"Hah~ you guys picked the wrong opponent today."

His voice carried no fear, only amusement. He raised his hand, cold energy surging through his veins.

"[Ice Age]."

Mana burst from him in a sweeping wave, rippling outward. The effect was immediate. The ground hissed as lush greenery withered, freezing solid in the blink of an eye. Grass, shrubs, trees—all transformed into crystalline sculptures of frost. A bitter chill swallowed the hunting grounds, radiating from him like the wrath of a winter god.

The hidden beasts never stood a chance. Their screeches echoed briefly as their forms were caught mid-movement, limbs stiffening, fangs bared in futile defiance. In seconds, they were nothing more than grotesque ice statues.

A deadly silence followed, broken only by the sharp whistle of the frozen wind.

Arthur didn't stop there. His fingers clicked sharply.

CRACK.

Like fragile glass, the frozen menagerie shattered. Shards of monster flesh and ice scattered across the barren wasteland, glittering in the pale light like macabre confetti.

Arthur smirked. "Too easy."

The battlefield was quiet, conquered in less than a minute. He stood in the middle of it, radiating dominance, the untouched king of a frozen graveyard.

Then, from the corner of his eye, he caught movement. A shadow slipping from behind a tree, hesitant but unable to remain hidden after such a display.

Alan stepped forward, his usual arrogance subdued into a tight frown. His eyes flicked across the wasteland of shattered beasts, then back to Arthur, torn between awe and irritation.

"Tch. Show off." Alan's tone was biting, but the stiffness in his posture betrayed him.

Arthur turned lazily, smirk widening. "What would a mediocre person know about the joy of dominating a battlefield?"

Alan scowled.

"People like you," Arthur continued, his tone smooth and taunting, "are shrouded in mediocrity. You can't possibly understand how good this feels." He spread his arms slightly, motioning to the wasteland of ice and corpses around him. "This is art, Alan."

"You…" Alan's fists clenched, his pride boiling under Arthur's words. But he didn't move forward. He knew better.

Arthur's eyes glittered as he pressed further. "What? Want to fight?" His grin was razor sharp.

Alan clicked his tongue, turning away with a scoff. "Unfortunately for you, I'm not a masochist. I don't enjoy getting beaten bloody."

With that, he darted off into the trees, not sparing Arthur another glance.

Arthur chuckled, shaking his head. "Tch~ And here I thought I'd get to beat him up."

He turned back to the ruined battlefield, the icy wasteland stretching before him, and the corner of his lips curled again. The hunt was supposed to be training. For Arthur, it was just… recreation.