Extra's Ascent

Dante Pendragon? The Genius. Unrivaled Prodigy. The golden laced Maniac.

These were just a few of the many terms used to describe the main character of Arthdal Chronicles.

Each one paid homage to his brilliance, his eccentricity, and above all, his unshakable identity.

"What a disappointment you all are!"

He said it with such disdain, yet this had been his plan all along.

Dante understood the art of war—its principles, its nuances.

One crucial strategy resonated deeply with him: Kill a few to make the rest submit.

Today, he wielded that philosophy with deadly precision.

By showcasing the vast gulf between his abilities and those of his opponents, he forced them into submission.

The surviving robbers, now trembling in defeat, understood that resistance would lead only to death.

Survival lay in surrender.

The message was clear, and it worked.

The four remaining robbers, their spirits crushed, dropped their weapons and fell to their knees in complete submission.

With his work done, Dante turned his attention to the guards who had been restrained.

With a flick of his hand, the earth that had bound them morphed back into its natural state, releasing them.

Freed at last, the guards wasted no time rounding up the remaining robbers—the ones who still drew breath.

Meanwhile, the partygoers began evacuating the hall.

The earlier air of festivity had vanished, replaced by fear and unease.

Among those observing the chaos was Aldrich.

He stood silently, watching the scene unfold with a pensive expression.

'Even though my interference with Fiona changed the beginning, the rest of the novel is playing out exactly as described'

This realization both comforted and unnerved him.

'No… I shouldn't be too quick to judge. Just because events align now doesn't mean there won't be repercussions later.'

He mused over the possibilities.

His actions had derailed a pivotal moment—the meeting between the male and female leads.

That omission was bound to ripple through the narrative.

'If it still aligns with the novel, the next scene should be—

"Hey! What the hell was that?"

The voice cut through the murmurs of the evacuating crowd.

It belonged to Edward, who strode purposefully toward Dante, his face a mask of anger.

Dante, hearing the outburst, turned to locate its source.

His brows furrowed slightly when he realized Edward was addressing him.

"Is that for me?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Who else?" Edward snapped. "What's your problem, man?"

"My problem?" Dante replied, tilting his head slightly. "If by 'problem' you mean solving the theft, then you're welcome." His tone was light, almost teasing, which only served to inflame Edward further.

"You think you deserve a thank you?" Edward shot back, his voice rising. "You could've gotten us all killed!"

Edward wasn't entirely wrong.

The decision to comply with the robbers demands wasn't due to a lack of power or courage from Edward who is an already certified student of Eldora Institute. A first year.

Those present—including first-year students like Edward, Selina, and Saldrich—were all mystics of considerable ability learned under the tutelage of esteemed professors of the declared best mystic Institute of Eldorado continent.

But they had chosen caution.

Their compliance was a calculated move to minimize casualties, particularly among the civilians.

"You're not dead, though," Dante replied with a carefree shrug. "So again, you're welcome." He even added a sly smile, knowing full well it would irk Edward.

Nearby, Saldrich crossed her arms and voiced her opinion. "Edward's right. That golden-haired guy was reckless. His impulsiveness could've cost lives."

Aldrich glanced at her but said nothing.

Saldrich wasn't wrong.

The unresponsive approach had been born of protocol—a shared understanding among mystics to prioritize the safety of non-mystics in dangerous situations like what just happened.

Even more so when it involves antagonizing other mystics with civilians around.

Dante's actions, however, had shattered that protocol.

Yet Aldrich couldn't entirely dismiss Dante's approach.

'She's right,' Aldrich thought.

But Dante's response was... effective. Though it would've been better without the killing.

Aldrich felt a pang of irritation at agreeing with Dante, even partially. But history had taken its course.

"Arrogant punk," Edward muttered under his breath, though loud enough for Dante to hear.

Dante stopped mid-step.

He sighed, knowing he should have kept walking but feeling compelled to respond.

"I don't understand what your problem is," Dante began, turning back to face Edward.

"Robbers attacked. I stopped them. None of your valuables were stolen, and the civilians you're so concerned about are fine. Shouldn't that alone be enough reason to thank me?"

Edward's glare intensified. "I don't have an issue with your results. What I have a problem with is your method. You put innocent lives at risk. You could've waited until the civilians were safe before acting."

Dante's expression, previously calm, hardened ever so slightly.

"I see what this is about," he said, his voice low but sharp. "You're shackled by rules and protocols, prioritizing safety over action. That's fine. It's logical, even."

He took a step closer, his presence imposing.

"But I'm not you. I'm better than you. I'm not just a mystic; I'm a Pendragon. I have the power and the clarity to prioritize necessity over caution."

His words carried an undeniable weight, silencing Edward and everyone within earshot.

"My decision ended the threat. No civilian casualties. No stolen goods. That's a win in my book," Dante concluded. His piercing gaze prevented Edward from retorting.

"And if you don't see that as a win, that's fine by me. Just don't project your logic onto me because I did what you couldn't."

With that, Dante turned to leave.

As he reached the hall's exit, he paused and glanced back.

"Oh, one more thing," he said, his voice carrying a finality that demanded attention.

"The robber said to kneel? We Pendragons kneel to no one but our Lord. To ask me to submit to a bunch of thugs? That's an insult to my name and my clan. I'd sooner die than obey."

His declaration hung in the air long after he left, leaving Edward and the others speechless.