The Extra Who Shouldn’t Exist

A few moments earlier…

Across the shattered battlefield where chaos reigned, Kyle's laughter echoed through the torn skies. He watched Alex's struggle from his vantage point on a floating obsidian spire, his crimson eyes glinting with amusement.

Every blow Alex took, every wound reopened by the seven Sins, drew another grin across Kyle's face. "So this is the world's last hope?" he whispered to himself. "Pathetic. It's almost over."

He flicked his fingers lightly, and at once, dozens of holographic screens appeared in the air around him—each one broadcasting the brutal clash in real time. The projection spread outward, traveling into the heavens until the images were visible across the entire continent.

Cities, fortresses, and kingdoms looked up at the sky and gasped as the scenes unfolded.

They saw Alex being tossed aside by gods of chaos, bleeding, burned, and buried under mountains of destruction.

Kyle's voice echoed from every screen and tower, deep and commanding.

"Watch closely, all of you," he declared. "What you see before you is your final hope. This boy… this insignificant mortal… he was the only one who dared challenge me."

The screens zoomed closer to show Alex collapsing under another devastating blow from Grambell.

"But look at him now," Kyle continued, spreading his arms wide as dark energy coalesced around him. "He bleeds. He falls. And soon, he dies. When that happens, humanity will have no one left to protect them."

He smiled coldly. "So here's my offer. Kneel before me—within ten days—and your kingdoms will be spared. Fail… and I will erase your entire civilization from existence. Think carefully. You have three days to provide your answer."

Across every nation, terror surged through the hearts of kings, soldiers, and common folk alike. Mothers clutched their children as cities turned eerily silent. Every eye was fixed on the flickering screens showing Alex drenched in blood, still refusing to surrender.

The murmurs spread like wildfire.

"He's fighting seven of them at once?"

"No one can survive that long…"

"If even he falls… then it's over. Everything is over."

Far from that chaos, inside the human empire, three familiar figures stared at one of those hovering projections.

Alden slammed his sword into the ground, its black flames bursting outward and engulfing the cult soldiers surrounding him. Their screams echoed as their flesh burned to ash.

"Damn it!" he shouted, breathing heavily. "They just keep coming!"

Beside him, Lilith flicked her twin daggers, slicing through another wave of shadow-beasts. "Half of them aren't even human—they're puppets!" she snarled.

Ethan, gripping his glowing staff, fired a meteor of condensed light into the advancing horde, clearing a path. "If we can wipe these things out fast enough, maybe we can still reach Alex!"

But a calm, tired voice cut through their panic.

"Reaching him won't change anything," said Arthur Williams, Ethans father. He strode forward, watching the same holographic projection where Alex struggled to stay standing.

"That boy isn't fighting one enemy," Arthur said darkly. "He's fighting eight. Seven sins… and that monster boy."

He clenched his hands into fists. "Even a miracle won't save him now. If we go… we'll just die."

The silence that followed hung heavy.

Arthur turned to Alden, Lilith, and Ethan, his tone sharp and grim. "I once thought you three might lead humanity into a new era. But let's not delude ourselves. If Alex falls today…" He glanced back at the flickering screen, his voice lowering. "Then it's over. The cult will sweep across everything—humans, elves, dwarves—none will survive."

He looked directly at Lilith. "Not even your father's empire will stand, Princess."

Ethan swallowed hard. "Then… what do we do?"

Arthur exhaled, his expression weary. "Do what you can. Save whoever you can. That's all that matters now."

As he said that, the image of Alex flashed again—him dodging Grambell's strike, his chest heaving, his aura dimming as blood stained the ruins around him.

Arthur whispered under his breath, "You better win, miracle boy… or we all die today."

Meanwhile, across the endless sea, far from the burning continents, five colossal presences gathered around a shimmering round table surrounded by purest from of mana.

The first to rise from her seat was Sylphoria Sylven Everglade, the Queen of the Faerie Domain. Her beauty was ethereal, her dark-blue hair cascading like silk rivers down to her waist, and her silver eyes glimmering like stars trapped under glass. Mana itself seemed to bow in deference around her.

Beside her sat Eleanor Aqualis, the Mermaid Queen, her sky-blue hair falling like flowing water, eyes of violet crystal shimmering with wisdom and sorrow. Even seated within the hall, waves of faint energy rippled around her as if the ocean itself answered her every thought.

Then came Thalion Moonshade Lareth'Thalas, King of the Elven Empire, whose blond hair resembled sunlight poured into silver. His ember-hued eyes carried both grace and quiet fury, reflecting the weight of centuries.

Next stood Damon Noctis Bloodrose—the Blood Monarch, the strongest among them all. The Vampire King's mere existence made the air tremble. His pale skin contrasted the blood-red mist swirling around him, and the aura that flowed from him silenced them all.

Together, these monarchs represented everything that remained of the higher races beyond humanity.

Eleanor leaned forward, her voice calm but edged. "What of the others?"

Sylphiria sighed, her silver eyes dimming slightly. "Most are still fighting and keeping their barriers intact. But by now, they must have realized it… this is the end of the human empire. All mana channels linking the continents have been severed, and the cult is attacking every stronghold simultaneously."

Thalion's gold aura flickered, his expression darkening. "I heard his declaration… that dark haired boy—said after humanity, we're next. 72 hours means three days to submit or perish."

His hand tightened around the edge of the table, cracks forming beneath his grip. The entire hall vibrated under his unleashed anger.

Before his fury could spread, Damon spoke calmly. His voice held power that cut through chaos. "Then we have two choices."

Every gaze turned toward him in that heavy silence.

"We can unite," Damon said simply. "Summon every army, every monarch, every secluded ally, and march to aid the human empire. Support the boy named Alex. He may be our only chance."

He paused, then let his red eyes shift from one ruler to the next. "Or," he continued, "we abandon humanity. We regroup, strengthen our borders, and prepare for the final war. But doing so means accepting that countless lives will die. And even then, the chances of victory are slim."

The room grew so quiet that the sound of magic flowing in the air felt deafening.

Thalion's fists trembled. Eleanor lowered her gaze. Sylphiria glanced at the holographic image hovering above the table—Alex, standing alone amid the seven Sins, his aura dim yet burning brighter than ever.

Damon's voice broke the silence. "We vote. Decide now. Will we aid the humans—or let them burn ?"

A heavy silence filled the grand chamber.

The attack from the cult had thrown every kingdom into disarray; none among the monarchs had expected a full-scale war so soon. The great rulers now stared grimly at the holographic screen floating before them — the same one that showed Alex fighting for his life against the Seven Sins.

The atmosphere was thick, suffocating. Even the ambient mana around the round table had gone still.

It was Sylphoria, the Fairy Queen, who finally broke the silence. Her silver eyes shimmered faintly, her tone quiet yet certain.

"Forgive me for saying this," she murmured, "but that human won't make it."

Eleanor, the Mermaid Queen, laced her fingers together, her expression grave but calm. "I agree," she said softly. "Even if we rush to his aid now, it would make no difference. Facing all seven of those things is suicide. And if we fall, our nation's will crumble behind us. The sea itself will burn. We cannot risk everything on one battle."

Her words settled in like a funeral toll. Thalion Moonshade, the Elven King, said nothing, his amber eyes fixed on the screen. The glow of the projection reflected against his face, tension building in his quiet.

Damon, the Vampire King, broke the pause with mild irritation.

"Why so quiet, Thalion?" he asked, his crimson gaze narrowing. "Normally you're the first one to speak against humans. Don't tell me you think that boy might actually win."

Thalion exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable.

"Not a bit," he said at last. Then his tone changed, creeping with reluctant respect. "But… my daughter Elaria once said something about that boy. That child is unpredictable. Stronger than he appears. In some ways, he already surpasses us."

His gaze darkened as he continued. "If we don't support him now and he somehow wins, he'll remember that. He strikes me as someone who holds grudges. He won't forgive us for abandoning him when it mattered."

Damon's lips curved slightly, revealing sharp fangs.

"You've grown wiser than I gave you credit for, Thalion," he said, amused. "Your reasoning is the same as mine."

He sank deeper into his chair, crossing one leg over the other. "So that makes two of us in favor… and two against. Looks like a draw."

Just then, a pulse of light filled the room. Another presence materialized near the table — glowing faintly beneath a crown of white.

It was Auralias of the Holy Empire of Celestara.

"I'm afraid it's not a tie," he said smoothly, his voice echoing like a hymn laced with arrogance. "I stand with Queen Sylphoria and Queen Eleanor. I can't allow my empire to waste faith on that arrogant child."

Damon narrowed his eyes. "Auralias," he said, his voice rumbling. "I forgot you were handling the duties in your father's absence. So you're against aiding him?"

Auralias nodded confidently. "Absolutely. That boy lacks restraint. His power is dangerous even to this world. You've seen the chaos he leaves. He's no savior — he's a weapon waiting to destroy us all."

Another moment of silence followed. Damon sighed, rubbing his temple.

"The Dwarven King hasn't answered the summons either," he muttered. "No doubt he's fighting off cult attacks as well."

For the first time that night, resignation settled over the room. The rulers exchanged weary gazes — a quiet, wordless acknowledgment of their helplessness.

Only Aurelias's quiet laugh disturbed the silence. "Then it's decided," he said smugly.

Damon's crimson eyes glimmered faintly as he spoke again. "Very well," he said. "We will not intervene. Let the boy fight his own battle. We'll spend the next ten days preparing for the inevitable war. If he dies — then we fight to survive what comes next."

The others nodded one by one. The meeting disbanded, their decision sealed.

Yet even as the rulers reached their reluctant conclusion, something startling appeared on the holographic screen.

A blue-haired girl with silver streaks streaked across the shattered sky.

The monarchs leaned forward at once, gazes locked on the strange woman hovering beside a broken, bloodied Alex. Her presence pulsed with divine energy, and before their very eyes, the balance of the battlefield seemed to shift.

"Someone else joined?" Sylphiria asked in disbelief. "Impossible… Even if she helps him, it's too late."

But none in that chamber realized that their words would soon echo as irony — for the decision they had made tonight would come back to haunt every nation that still dared to hope for peace.

----------

Far away, in the realm of war below, the Seven Sins froze in disbelief.

Alex whispered two words that rippled across reality itself.

"Astral Domain."

The world convulsed.

Light consumed darkness, and the sky itself tore open. The field of battle blurred into white — and when sight returned, everything had changed.

The landscape became a void of duality. Four crimson moons hovered above the horizon, their glow painting the heavens with blood. The lower half of the world shimmered with radiant light, the upper half drowned in absolute shadow — life and death intertwined in impossible harmony.

And at the center of it all stood Alex Dragonheart, silver hair blazing under the twin skies. In his arms rested the blue-haired woman — Zara — her divine aura fading slowly as she smiled faintly.

"I've done all I can for now," she said softly, her voice like a whisper carried by starlight. "The rest is up to you."

She pressed her hand gently to his chest, leaving a faint mark of light there.

"Good luck."

Then she stepped back, kneeling beside the roots of a tree that shimmered against the horizon.

Alex turned forward, his expression calm, eyes burning with purpose.

Grambell, the Sin of Pride, smirked and stepped closer. "A fancy trick," he said mockingly, his aura cracking the air. "But don't delude yourself, boy. This doesn't change anything. My subspace will swallow you again. You won't even be able to touch me."

Alex didn't reply. He simply vanished.

A fraction of a second later — boom.

Grambell's world froze. His vision flickered. An instant of silence came before his head burst apart in a mist of blood and black light. His arrogant smirk was erased forever as his corpse toppled to the ground.

Everyone — demons, sins, and even Kyle watching from afar — went utterly still.

The remaining six stared at Grambell's headless body, unable to process what had just happened.

Alex stood over the fallen Sovereign of Pride and wiped the blood from his cheek. His voice was calm, almost whisper-like.

"Looks like the battle of Pride…" he said, "has ended. And I won."

Kyle's breath hitched sharply. The first flicker of fear sparked in his eyes.

'This is bad,' he thought, his hands trembling against the control shards.

'Very… very bad.'