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

-Arkan Lawrence-

Wasn't this journey going a little too smoothly?

In the original plot, there were always odd interruptions on the road to the village. Unpredictable events that reminded the reader of how chaotic and dangerous this world truly was.

So far, however, it felt… too quiet. Even the narrow and treacherous paths we traversed offered little trouble, apart from the tension of avoiding a steep fall into the abyss below.

"Shouldn't something be happening by now?" I muttered to myself, keeping my voice low.

"What?" Rainer turned his head, frowning slightly in confusion.

"Oh, nothing," I replied with a small smile. "I was just thinking this trip seems suspiciously uneventful for something leading to a plague-ridden village."

He shrugged, his expression betraying no concern. Meanwhile, I couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling lingering in my gut.

A few hours later, I got my answer.

From up ahead came the faint sound of a shrill scream, accompanied by the snap of breaking branches and the frantic rustling of undergrowth.

"What was that?" I instinctively stopped my horse, scanning the source of the sound.

"It's coming from up ahead," Rainer noted, pulling the reins to slow his horse. His sharp eyes darted through the trees, his posture radiating alertness, like a soldier braced for combat.

Cautiously, we approached, and the scene that unfolded before us made my blood boil.

A pack of goblins—small, wiry creatures with sickly green skin and sunken eyes—were chasing two terrified children. The kids ran for their lives, their faces pale with fear, their frantic steps carrying them closer to danger as they stumbled through the undergrowth.

Rainer moved before I could say anything.

Without hesitation, he dismounted in one fluid motion, unsheathing his sword with a sharp, metallic hiss. The remaining rays of sunlight glinted off the blade's polished edge.

"Arkan, cover me from the rear!" he barked as he sprinted toward the goblins.

I was stunned for a moment but snapped out of it quickly. Reaching for the crossbow hanging at my saddle, I fumbled slightly before loading a bolt. My hands trembled as I took aim at one of the trailing goblins.

"Focus, Arkan," I whispered to myself, forcing my breathing to steady. Holding the crossbow steady, I exhaled and squeezed the trigger.

Thwip!

The bolt flew true, sinking into the chest of a goblin and dropping it instantly.

"Not bad," I murmured under my breath, hastily reloading as Rainer charged ahead.

He plunged into the pack of goblins, his sword cutting through them with swift, decisive movements. Each swing was clean and precise, felling three of the creatures in mere seconds. The green blood that spattered the forest floor mixed with the crunch of their broken bodies.

The children had managed to hide behind a large tree, peeking out with tear-filled eyes. They watched as Rainer fought off their pursuers, hope replacing the terror etched on their young faces.

"Arkan! The one on the left!" Rainer shouted, snapping me back to the battle.

I swiveled to see a goblin sneaking around the side, its jagged wooden spear raised to strike at me. In my panic, I released a second bolt, but it missed, sinking harmlessly into a tree trunk.

The goblin hissed and lunged, closing the gap faster than I anticipated.

"Damn it!" I yanked my dagger free from its sheath, bracing myself to meet the creature's charge.

But before I could act, Rainer's sword cut through the air, decapitating the goblin in a clean strike. Its lifeless body crumpled at my feet.

I stood frozen for a moment, processing what had just happened. Rainer glanced at me briefly, exhaling sharply. "Stop spacing out."

"Uh… thanks," I muttered sheepishly, trying to suppress the way my hands shook from the adrenaline.

Without replying, he turned toward the children, his hardened expression softening slightly as he approached them.

"You're safe now," Rainer said, his voice steady but reassuring. The kids hesitated at first, but his calm demeanor seemed to soothe them, and their sobbing slowed.

A rare, faint smile crossed his face—a glimpse of warmth I hadn't seen before.

While Rainer comforted the children, my focus shifted elsewhere. Something caught my attention—a pendant hanging from the neck of one of the kids.

It was a simple chain with a small silver cross-shaped charm. On the surface, it seemed innocent enough. But I knew better. I recognized it immediately.

That pendant was critical to everything in the first arc.

In the original story, the villagers believed the pendant was a holy charm—a blessing bestowed by the local priest to protect them from harm. However, it was the root of the plague.

It carried a curse.

This curse worked insidiously, draining the life force of its wearer bit by bit until they resembled dried husks. The resulting symptoms—extreme fatigue, rapid physical deterioration—were misinterpreted as an infectious disease, leading to the outbreak in the village.

My face remained carefully neutral as I examined the pendant. The child clutched it tightly, treating it like a treasure.

"Where did you get that pendant?" I asked gently, crouching slightly to meet the child's gaze.

"The priest gave it to us," the child replied in a trembling voice. "He said it would protect us…"

I nodded slowly, feigning satisfaction with the answer. Internally, however, my mind was working overtime. This information was my advantage. I already knew what lay behind the plague and how to combat it.

"Arkan."

Rainer's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. He was watching me closely, his expression unreadable. "What are you thinking about?"

I forced a casual smile. "Oh, nothing. Just making sure they're okay."

He held my gaze for a moment longer before nodding, turning his attention back to the children. "We need to get them to safety. There may be more goblins nearby."

"Agreed," I said, though my thoughts lingered on the cursed pendant. It was the key to unraveling the mystery and keeping the story on track.

As I helped Rainer escort the children toward safety, I began to formulate a plan.

I couldn't risk exposing what I knew too soon. If I wanted to ensure that everything unfolded correctly—or, at the very least, in a way that didn't lead to my early demise—I needed to tread carefully.

Because in this story, my most valuable weapon wasn't the crossbow slung at my back or the bombs in my pack.

It was the knowledge locked in my mind.

And I intended to use it wisely.