Don't Want to Be Ordinary Even Though I'm an Extra Character

I paused, sensing something deeper in his words. Though I knew this could be a sensitive topic, I still wanted to break the heavy silence. "Hey… we haven't properly introduced ourselves yet, have we?"

Rainer turned slightly, his expression puzzled by my sudden question. After a moment, he gave a small nod. "Ah… yes," he said, lowering his gaze to the sword resting on his lap. "I'm Rainer."

I nodded and offered a tentative smile. "I'm Arkan. You probably figured that out already, but I own a small herbal shop back in the fortress city."

His nod was more relaxed this time. "Yes, I remember. That shop… it saved my life."

I rubbed the back of my neck, suddenly feeling awkward. "I didn't do much. You're the one with incredible resilience."

A faint smile crossed his lips, though the sadness in his eyes didn't fade. "Still… I owe you my life."

I studied him for a moment, realizing that this could be a chance to know him better. "So, Rainer… do you always travel alone?"

His brief silence felt heavier than it should have been. Then he answered, "Yes. It's easier that way."

"Easier?" I asked, tilting my head.

He sighed softly, gazing into the dwindling campfire. "I don't have to worry about anyone else. No one to hurt. No one to lose again."

His words struck me, leaving me speechless. The weight he carried was almost tangible, his loss hidden but painfully present.

"But…" I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. "Doesn't being alone feel… heavier?"

A faint chuckle escaped him, though it lacked any real mirth. "Not as heavy as losing the people you care about."

I drew in a slow breath, unsure how to respond. In the novel, Rainer was always portrayed as a strong, almost unshakable hero, wounded emotionally yet still standing against impossible odds. Seeing him now, up close, I realized he was just a man—broken, burdened, and struggling to move forward.

Talking more about his past seemed cruel, as though peeling open an old wound. Instead, I decided to steer the conversation away, to lighten the oppressive atmosphere.

I turned to Garren, who was busy checking his injuries near the fire. "Hey, Garren. How are your wounds holding up? You look like someone who just fought an ogre… oh, wait, you did."

He glanced up, a faint smirk tugging at his lips despite his exhaustion. "Not bad. It stings a little, but I've had worse."

I smiled, attempting humor. "You're unbelievably durable. Honestly, I almost thought you were part-ogre yourself."

Mila, sitting nearby as she sharpened her arrows, chuckled quietly. "Garren? An ogre? Don't be ridiculous. If he were one, he'd probably be smarter."

Garren grumbled under his breath, though his expression softened into something resembling a grin. "At least I don't lose arrows, Mila."

"My arrows never miss," she shot back casually, shrugging.

Their banter brought a small, tentative wave of laughter. For the first time that night, the tension seemed to ease.

I glanced at Rudolph, leaning against the wagon with labored breaths but still awake. "How about you, Rudolph? Are you hanging in there?"

He raised a hand weakly, proving he was still alive. "Just a few complaints from my bones," he muttered. "But I won't die from this."

I nodded, admiration glimmering in my eyes. "You're all incredible. Honestly, I don't know what I would've done if I'd been alone out there."

Garren let out a low laugh. "If you were alone, you'd probably already be ogre food."

"Fair enough," I admitted with a grin. "But seriously, thank you. I'll never forget what you all did for me today."

Turning back to Rainer, I saw him still sitting apart from the group, his focus seemingly locked on cleaning his blade. Though he remained quiet, I knew he was listening. Perhaps the lighthearted chatter had provided him with a sliver of peace.

"I know this situation is far from ideal," I said to everyone. "But we made it past one of the biggest hurdles. Let's rest tonight and prepare ourselves for whatever lies ahead tomorrow."

Mila yawned, stretching as she nodded. "Agreed. I need to sleep before anything crazy happens again."

Garren chimed in, "And I need to eat. Anyone got extra food?"

Pulling some bread from my bag, I passed it around. That night, even though our bodies still ached and our wounds reminded us of the earlier battle, we shared a brief moment of respite.

I stole another glance at Rainer, who remained in his quiet corner. Despite his silence, his presence somehow felt steadying, as though he was holding some unseen weight on behalf of the group.

The next morning, I woke with soreness still lingering in my muscles. After a quick stretch to ease the tension, I decided to shake off the fatigue with some light exercise—an old habit from my past life that often raised eyebrows here.

Once I finished, I made my way to the small stream nearby, intending to freshen up before the day's journey. The crisp morning air was invigorating, and the sound of gently flowing water added a tranquil backdrop to the quiet dawn.

I crouched by the stream, cupped my hands, and splashed the icy water onto my face. The sensation was refreshing, erasing some of the weariness from my body.

But as I lifted my head, I realized I wasn't alone.

Rainer was there.

He stood a short distance away, focused on practicing his swordsmanship. His tattered cloak billowed slightly with each movement, while his longsword carved through the air with precision and speed.

I hadn't even noticed his presence. So absorbed was I in my own thoughts that I failed to hear his light footsteps or the sharp swish of his blade.

He continued to swing, each movement deliberate and controlled. The blade's arc produced a faint whistle, as if slicing through invisible opponents.

I found myself rooted in place, captivated. In the novel, Rainer was described as an exceptional swordsman. But seeing him now, in person, was an entirely different experience. His skill spoke of countless battles fought, of a body and mind honed through sheer necessity.

Unconsciously, I stepped closer. But the sound of leaves crunching under my boot gave me away.

Rainer halted mid-swing, turning his piercing blue gaze toward me.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice even but not harsh.

I gave an awkward smile, feeling like a child caught snooping. "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. I was just washing up… I didn't realize you were here."

He lowered his blade, letting out a slow breath. "You're not intruding. I was just training."

"Training?" I echoed, trying to ease the tension. "You're already so skilled. Why keep practicing?"

He regarded the sword in his hands, his expression unreadable. "Because I have to. My blade may be dull, but I can't afford to grow weaker."

For a moment, I was at a loss for words. Then I ventured carefully, "I guess I understand. We all have something we rely on to survive."

He glanced at me again, his gaze softening slightly. "And what do you rely on?"

I hesitated, thinking before I answered. "My mind. I may not be as strong as you, but I've always believed that if I can think clearly, I'll find a way to survive."

He nodded slowly, the corners of his lips curving into the faintest smile. "That's important too. Survival isn't always about strength."

The conversation gave me a brief glimpse into Rainer's world. Beneath his stoic exterior lay someone who valued resilience in all its forms.

As I washed my face one last time, I said, "I'll head back to camp now. Let me know if you need anything."

He merely nodded, resuming his focus on his blade.

Walking back to camp, I realized that while Rainer was a tough person to approach, bit by bit, he was letting others in.