The Useless Extra Knows It All....But Does He?

The battlefield, once alive with screams and slaughter, froze.

"STOOOOP!!!"

The voice cracked through the carnage like a whip of divine thunder.

Luca's sabers faltered mid-swing, his bloodied arms trembling. His head jerked toward the dunes, eyes narrowing against the smoke and dust.

No… it can't be.

There—standing atop the ridge, her white robes torn and dirt-stained, hair flowing in the desert wind, was a figure he recognized instantly. A radiance clung to her even in this nightmare, faint but undeniable, like the stubborn glow of a dying candle refusing to fade.

The Saintess.

Luca's heart wrenched in his chest, a hot pulse of rage flooding him. His throat tightened, jaw clenching until his teeth ground together.

Why are you here? After all this—why now?

His vision blurred red. He wanted to scream, to curse, to drag her back into safety with his own hands. But before the words could tear free, her voice rang out, firm, steady, unyielding.

"I am the Saintess you were looking for. I am here now. Let them go!"

The battlefield held its breath.

The three cult elites turned toward her in eerie unison, their twisted faces illuminated by the crimson glow of corrupted mana. For a moment, silence. Then—mockery.

The naked woman arched her spine like a predator stretching, her lips splitting into a grin too wide, too sharp. Her crimson-lit eyes danced with manic delight as laughter bubbled from her throat.

"Hhahahhahaha… Saintess, ohhh Saintess… hehehehh…" She licked a streak of blood from her shoulder, trembling with glee.

The chain-wrapped man twitched, his head jerking side to side. Drool spilled from the corner of his mouth as his iron links rattled, scraping across the sand. His laughter was jagged, broken, spiraling into madness.

"Ji-jiiiihehh—Saintess, Saintess! Foolish lamb! Why should we let them go, hmm? We'll kill all of you together! Jiejehjeheheh!"

The horde followed, howling with lunatic devotion. Spears slammed into shields, blades rattled against the earth, their screams weaving into a chorus of insanity.

Luca's grip tightened on his sabers until his knuckles split. His jaw trembled. He shook his head slowly, a bitter taste rising in his throat.

Foolish. You shouldn't have come here. You'll only get yourself killed…

But the Saintess did not flinch. She stepped forward, sand shifting beneath her boots, and raised her chin. Her hands clasped at her chest, eyes calm, voice clear.

"Then I will destroy myself. Not even a particle of me will remain."

Her words fell like ice into the inferno.

For a heartbeat, silence.

Then—the laughter returned, harsher, sharper, echoing across the dunes like breaking glass.

The naked woman bent double, clutching her sides as her laughter twisted into moans. Her crimson aura pulsed like a heartbeat.

"You want to make our job easier, little lamb? Hhhhhnnnhhh… then do it."

The chain-man slammed his forehead against the ground, chains clattering in ecstasy as he writhed. The broad-shouldered Archmage sneered, his lips peeling back to reveal cracked teeth, eyes glowing with fire. The cultists screamed in unison, their madness reaching fever pitch.

While they jeered, Luca fell to his knees beside Big Bull.

The giant's chest rattled with each breath, shallow and broken. His mangled arms twitched, bones jutting beneath torn flesh, his body a map of gashes too deep to close. Blood soaked the sand beneath him, thick and black.

"Damn it… don't you dare die on me." Luca's voice cracked as he uncorked potion after potion, forcing the glowing liquid past his comrade's lips. The magic spread briefly through Big Bull's veins, glowing faintly under his torn skin—before sputtering and fading like embers in the rain.

The wounds remained. The blood kept flowing.

No change… not even a flicker.

Luca's chest clenched, his hands trembling as glass vials slipped from his blood-slick fingers, shattering against the sand. What is this? Why won't they work?

A shadow of calm cut through the storm.

"Do you think I don't know why you want to kill me?"

Her voice silenced the battlefield.

The laughter strangled in their throats. The cultists froze mid-jeer, weapons half-raised. Even the howling wind seemed to falter, sand drifting more slowly through the air.

Luca looked up sharply, his breath caught in his chest.

The Saintess stood with her arms outstretched, robes fluttering in the night wind. Her eyes burned—not with fear, but certainty. Her voice was steady, resolute.

"My blood can quicken the unsealing of your Emperor, can't it?"

The three elites recoiled as though struck.

The chain-wrapped man jerked backward, his laughter choking into a gurgle. His eyes bulged, veins crawling across his forehead.

"Y-you—!"

The broad-shouldered Archmage staggered, staff trembling in his hands. His flame sputtered, his lips curling into a snarl.

"How… how do you know that?"

The naked woman's smile faltered. Her body stiffened, crimson aura flickering around her as her eyes widened, disbelief painted across her face.

Luca froze as well, his stomach knotting, his mind racing.

Her blood? Unsealing the Emperor?

His brows furrowed, eyes narrowing in shock. Was there anything like this in the game? No… no, this wasn't supposed to be here. This wasn't supposed to happen…

The desert battlefield stood in stunned silence. A thousand cultists, three mad elites, and even Luca himself—all staring at the Saintess as her revelation echoed across the night.

The broad-shouldered archmage threw his head back and let out a thunderous laugh, his voice echoing through the blood-stained dunes.

"Hahahahahaha! So, even the Holy Kingdom plants spies in our cult. How entertaining."

The Saintess stood still, her posture straight, her silver-white robes swaying gently in the dry wind. She did not answer, only fixed her serene gaze upon him. Her silence felt like a blade, quiet but cutting, making the laughter lose some of its weight.

The chained man's crooked grin widened, lips splitting into something grotesque. His voice grated like rusted iron against stone.

"Jijiejiejiejie… little lamb, do you think we believe you? Do you even have the courage to destroy yourself? Do it! Let us see!"

The cultists erupted into harsh laughter, their voices blending with the wails of the desert wind.

Luca's hands clenched tighter around the vial he had just given Big Bull. His chest tightened as he watched the Saintess's calm figure.

No… you bastards. Don't say it. She may really do it…

As if in response to his thoughts, the Saintess closed her eyes. Her lips moved, whispering words too sacred for mortal ears. A radiant glow surged from her, forming an aura of pure holiness that shimmered like dawn breaking against night.

The three cult elites froze. Their mocking faces stiffened into disbelief, pupils shrinking as the light wrapped around her body like wings.

The seductive woman's composure shattered first. She roared, her sultry voice breaking into rage, "STOP! STOP!!"

The Saintess halted mid-chant, her glow dimming slightly. For the first time, ugly, twisted expressions marred the faces of the cult's strongest.

The archmage spat the words out, his voice dripping venom.

"…What do you want?"

Her gaze never wavered, calm as moonlight.

"Just let them go."

The woman ground her teeth so hard Luca thought they might break. She exchanged a look with her two companions, fury and frustration burning in their eyes. Then she snarled.

"Fine!" Her glare snapped to Luca and Big Bull, lips curling into a cruel smile. "Go, brats! I'll taste you next time."

For the first time since she had arrived, the Saintess's shoulders loosened. Relief, faint and fragile, softened her features. She turned her head ever so slightly, her eyes meeting Luca's. For an instant, the battlefield noise seemed to fade.

And in that fleeting pause—

The chains rattled.

The crooked man's grin stretched into a mask of madness as his body lunged forward, faster than a thunderclap. His chains whipped through the air, glowing with corrupted mana, twisting like serpents born of shadow and steel. They tore apart the sand beneath, sending shards of earth flying like knives, and streaked toward the Saintess with killing intent.

The air itself screamed under the violent force. Dust and light split apart, forming a storm around her. The Saintess's eyes widened, the calm mask finally cracking into shock.

Luca's heart lurched. His vision blurred red.

No… no, not like this…!

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

His roar shattered through the battlefield as the sky split with the sound of metal, the storm of chains blotting out the moonlight as they hurtled toward her heart.