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

The world was closing in on me.

I had shut my eyes, surrendering to the inevitability of death. The chains screamed toward me, cold and merciless. My lips trembled, but I forced them shut. To fight was useless. To hope was cruel.

So this is the end… so this is where I fall.

A single tear betrayed me, slipping from the corner of my eye and trailing down my cheek. I tried to steady my breath, but it came ragged, shallow. In that darkness, I whispered silently—

My only personal motive. The only thing I wanted to do for myself. For which I did everything in my Power. Would I never be able to find you in this lifetime… Mother?

I waited for the bite of steel. For the searing agony. For oblivion.

But… nothing came.

My brows knit together. Slowly, hesitantly, I opened my eyes.

And then—I forgot to breathe.

The sky itself was bleeding corruption, torn apart by storms of shadow. Yet against that backdrop stood a lone figure, framed as though carved from judgment itself. His violet hair whipped in the corrupted wind, streaked and sticky with blood. Half his face was masked crimson, but his eyes—those burning crimson eyes—cut through the chaos like twin beacons.

Twin sabers gleamed in his hands—one black, one white—like night and dawn, like sin and salvation.

And beneath him, impossibility itself: a Kunpeng, wings vast as the heavens, its feathers etched with temporal runes that pulsed in rhythm with eternity. With its cry, time itself shattered into silence.

The cultists. The chained beast. The whirling sand. All froze. Even the chain that should have ended me hung suspended, trembling a breath from my chest.

And only he moved.

Luca.

He carried Big Bull's limp weight across Kunpeng's back, yet his gaze never broke from the battlefield. Each step across the stillness was inexorable, as though fate bent itself before him. My eyes locked on him, helpless to look away.

When he reached me, he placed himself before me, back firm and unyielding, as though daring the world to try again. His voice was iron—low, steady, final.

"How much more?"

Kunpeng's reply was deep, strained: "A minute… only a minute!"

His jaw tightened. "It's enough."

Then, with one breath, he raised his sabers. Black and white. Despair and hope. The air quaked, trembling with the weight of what he carried. Moonlight itself bent, silver glow spilling across the blades like rivers of destiny.

The frozen world held its breath.

And then his roar tore it apart.

"—MOONSLAYER!!!"

The sabers crossed in arcs of light, dazzling, merciless. The frozen world cracked as if the heavens themselves split apart. Chains shattered into a thousand sparks, and the strike carved into the madman bound by them.

The cultist's eyes widened in horror, his madness replaced by naked fear. His scream was soundless as moonlight devoured him—flesh, bone, and shadow obliterated in one absolute stroke. He ceased to exist.

The corrupted sky itself recoiled, riven by the brilliance.

I stared, stunned, my lips parting. My heart thundered in my chest. This… this wasn't salvation. This was Luca, burning his body for one impossible moment of defiance.

And then—he staggered.

The sabers dimmed. His knees buckled. A cough ripped through him, wet and violent. Blood spattered across the broken earth, staining his torn jacket. Again he coughed, crimson staining his lips, his hands trembling though his grip on the sabers refused to falter. The Kunpeng gave a hollow cry, its runes flickering before it dissolved into scattered motes of fading light.

And still he stood. Even broken, he stood.

"Luca…" My voice cracked as I stumbled toward him.

Another cough wracked him—and then something small, something fragile, slipped from his torn jacket and fell with a faint clink onto the sand.

I froze. My eyes fell upon it. My whole body trembling!

No.

No, it couldn't be.

My hand shook as I bent down, fingers brushing against the jagged edge of a half-shattered brooch. Cold metal pressed into my palm—familiar, unbearable.

My vision blurred instantly, tears spilling uncontrolled. As I took out another broken brooch from my robe, my hands trembled as I tried to join them.

"N-no… this… this is—" My words broke, my throat caving.

The brooch glimmered faintly, catching the broken moonlight. And in that fragile glimmer, everything inside me collapsed.

My knees gave out. Tears fell like glass shattering, hot, endless.

"H-how… h-how can it be…?"

I clutched it to my chest, as if holding it could mend what was already gone. My sobs tore through the silence, raw and trembling.

As I looked back at him..

***

[Luca's POV]

Luca's breaths came in ragged bursts, each cough spilling more blood onto the cracked desert floor. His vision swam, but in the haze, his voice reached out to the Kunpeng within his mind.

I-I'm sorry, buddy. Again… because of me, you had to—

A weak, but steady rumble answered him. Hmph… don't worry. With you, I've become stronger as well. I just need to rest. Just promise… promise you'll take me to see this world. Let me fly free, not only in battle.

Another cough tore through Luca's chest. His lips twisted into a pained grin. I… don't even know if I'll make it out alive from here. If something happens… take the baby dragon. Fly. Go to Her Majesty, in the Imperial Palace. No matter what.

The Kunpeng's voice dimmed, but the weight of its oath pressed firmly into his chest. …As you command.

Blood dripped from his chin as his eyes lifted. Time, once still, cracked and shattered.

The desert came alive again.

Chains hissed. The storm winds screamed. The cultists, freed from the frozen silence, erupted into howls of rage that shook the air.

The broad-shouldered man, his frame radiating raw fury, stomped forward. His eyes bulged, veins bursting beneath corrupted mana as he bellowed:

"YOU! I WILL KILL YOUUUU!"

He dashed, sand exploding beneath his feet, closing in like a beast let loose from hell.

Luca's body swayed, every muscle screaming betrayal, but his eyes—his crimson eyes—never left the horizon. His stance faltered, yet his smirk cut sharp against the blood on his lips.

But before the brute could reach him—

The world changed.

A dome of light burst behind him, not silver nor moonlit, but divine. It cascaded outward in waves, a brilliance so pure it turned the desert night into dawn. Sand turned to glass under its radiance.

Luca's eyes widened as he turned his head.

The Saintess.

Her entire body was engulfed in holy power, her form glowing as if carved from the sun itself. The air around her warped, burning with sanctity, divine energy spilling in torrents.

Luca's voice cracked, disbelief cutting through him.

"N-no… h-how can she? She can't use her powers for attacking. O-otherwise…"

To wield divinity as a weapon was blasphemy against the very covenant that made her the Saintess. The moment she turned her gift to destruction, her bond with the Goddess would unravel. No prayers answered. No blessings. No return. It was not just power she risked losing—it was her place, her purpose, her faith itself.

Before the thought finished, the broad-shouldered archmage—his flesh already withering from corruption—was obliterated. Holy light consumed him in an instant, leaving nothing but torn blood and vapor raining down upon the battlefield.

The brilliance shattered.

Luca staggered forward as the Saintess collapsed, her glow flickering out. He fell beside her, catching her as she slumped into his arms, her head resting against his lap.

Her face was pale, lips drained of color, body trembling as the last strands of holy power bled away from her.

"Why?" Luca's voice shook, his blood-stained hands gripping her shoulders. "Why did you do it?"

Her chest rose shallowly, but no words came.

He clenched his teeth. His mind screamed, Her faith… it's everything to her. Even against the Devil Emperor in the final battle, she never… never used her divinity for destruction.

Again, he begged her. "Why?!"

Her body weakened by the second, the glow of sanctity retreating, leaving her like a husk.

Watching the sanctity drain from her body, Luca's chest tightened. He knew this was no ordinary exhaustion. Every thread of holy light leaving her was a piece of her divinity torn away, never to return. She had not merely spent her strength—she had cast away the very foundation of her existence.

"Just what… what could make you willing to cast away your faith—the one thing you treasured more than life itself?" His voice cracked, raw with desperation.

Is this the end of divinity?

But the answer never came.

Instead, a cruel, mocking laugh coiled through the air, dripping venom.

"Hehehehehe… those idiots. Now, all your cards are spent, aren't they?"

Luca's head snapped up, his gaze meeting the woman who stepped forward, her figure bathed in corruption. Naked, her body gleamed unnaturally, her lips glistening as her tongue traced them in hunger.

The Seductress.

Her eyes glowed with malice as she whispered, savoring the taste of their despair.