The extra Is too Strong – Chapter 101

The Extra is too strong

Chapter 101: The Extra Is Too Strong

“I intend to only go out on emergency support requests for the time being. We can fill in the ranks with capable volunteers if any are available. Most likely, the personnel assigned by headquarters won’t be able to keep up with our level.”

“That’s probable.”

Eilden agreed.

The Mord battalion was of such a high caliber that it would be futile to assign average-level warriors to it – they wouldn’t be of any help.

“Given that we need time to train, speaking of which, I have a favor to ask.”

“Speak your mind.”

“Could you please take a look at Lyon’s training?”


Eilden was puzzled.

“Aren’t you training with him?”

“I’m terrible at teaching others. He keeps asking how to master aura, but after eating the tear of a martial god, I could immediately use it, so I can’t explain it in a way that he can understand.”


“And most of the things Lyon asks about are things I managed to do without any difficulty, so I have nothing to teach him.”


“Of course, just being training partners does offer many benefits…”

Eilden felt a pang of pity for Lyon.

‘This must have been how people felt when they looked at Harden in the past.’ In truth, although Harden was the monster, Eilden himself, being called a genius, must have also instilled a sense of frustration in many.

“Alright. Bring him to me someday. However, rather than me acting as his instructor… it may be better to send a suitable candidate to assist him.”

“A suitable candidate?”

“I will lend you the instructor Rowen.”

“Isn’t he too valuable a resource to be tasked with such a duty?”

Mord was confident that, as a martial artist, Rowen was in a league above himself.

Judges by the stories he heard from Kael, Rowen was among the strongest under Harden’s command.

“Rowen has been instructing at the Shadow Wolf Battalion. He’s really cut out for drilling the kids, so he’ll probably do a better job teaching than me. Honestly, I don’t have much inclination for teaching others, either.”

“Didn’t you also cultivate Kestner, Commander Eilden?”

“Kestner had exceptional talent. The only people I could ever teach were those who were considered geniuses by others. I had no way of teaching someone without the knack for learning on their own.”


Mord felt an odd sense of kinship.

‘So this is why talented folks are sometimes disliked.’

He suddenly understood how Kael and Lyon must have grumbled while watching him.

“And Rowen can teach Kael as well, which is a bonus, don’t you think?”

“That’s true.”

Kael, especially, could have used someone to teach him. Especially since Kael practiced swordsmanship, there was even less that Mord could offer him in terms of guidance compared to Lyon.

“Still, meet with Lyon once. I am curious to see how much he has grown by following you around. And I will send you one of our members.”

“One of your members?”

“Yes. He’s not part of our battalion, but he’ll come if called.”

Mord, sensing something, asked,

“Is it someone like Parwel?”

“Similar. But quite different in personality from Parwel.”

Eilden had numerous people indebted to him.

Among those, he had maintained relations with the talented ones, who might be helpful to the hopes he discovered for the future.


“And Mord, for the time being, come and play with me.”


“Isn’t that the fastest way for you to grow?”

“If Commander Eilden were to personally train me every day, one-on-one, people would think it’s too much favoritism.”

“You’ve already proven yourself here. And you will do so even more in the future, right?”

“That’s true.”

Eilden chuckled at Mord’s answer, devoid of any modesty.

* * *

After their first battle, the perspective on Mord’s battalion had completely changed.

Scorn and mockery had disappeared, replaced by curious gazes.

People began to wonder what they had been up to before arriving here.

It was understandable.

Mord, known to be just fifteen years old, had displayed overwhelming prowess in battle.

Although there were talented bastards among Bernas’s own, Mord was incomparably extraordinary.

“That Mord guy, he’s said to be His Highness the Duke’s blood.”


“If it’s His blood, then it’s possible for such a guy to exist. Perhaps that’s why the general allowed such an exception from the start?”

Following the information spread from the Duke’s city, everyone nodded in agreement, though still impressed.

Harden Bernas was a living legend. Not only in the Gatekeeper Battalion but also across the continent, his fame spread as one of the strongest heroes.

Especially the path Harden had taken in life was exaggeratedly recounted.

Just like how it happens on modern Earth, and even more so in this less advanced world.

Hence, even if Mord seemed more monstrous than Harden at the same age, it was accepted as plausible.

“What about this Lyon fellow?”

“Few years ago, a legitimate member of the Duke’s family by the same name left… well, must be just someone with the same name.”

“Obviously. Even if Mord carries the Duke’s blood, the legitimate line wouldn’t be serving as a subordinate of an external lineage, right?”

Lyon was simply perceived by most as an unknown Bernas bastard.

There were those from the Duke’s city in the Gatekeeper Battalion, but none of them knew Lyon’s face well, and since they hadn’t directly confronted him, his identity remained concealed for now.

“And this Kael guy, where the hell did he drop from? He doesn’t look like anything but a kid, yet he’s a master?”

“Being a half-elf, he must be older than he appears. Maybe he’s got some convincing story for following Mord.”

Kael, just by being a master-level aura blade martial artist, was already revered by all.

Parwel, in contrast, barely made a blemish on the conversation.

A senior magician was indeed a valuable asset, but compared to the other three, there wasn’t much to highlight.

Although, given Parwel’s age, his ability was a monstrous talent, but the general focus on magicians wasn’t very intense.

“Fifteen years old? That can’t be right…”

“Did he learn from a grand magician or find an ancient magical tome or something? How could he be so powerful at that age?”

Of course, the magicians were shocked, but their dismay didn’t influence the majority’s perception.

* * *

The White Demonic Boundary was not a place where one could live alone.

Long ago, before it came to be known as such, people lived here in normal circumstances.

Despite the harsh cold and various threats, it was still manageable.

But after being named the White Demonic Boundary, such a life became impossible. To survive here, proper military protection was necessary.

The scattered people now all lived clustered around the military bases of various countries. Those who refused such a life had died and vanished.

Everyone believed this to be the state of affairs.


A person was walking against the biting blistering wind.

The figure in a thick fur coat was small, less than 160 centimeters tall.

With a hat and mask to protect against the cold, the person carried a large metal rod on his back that was even taller than they were.

And in hand, they dragged something large along the ground, even bigger than they were.

It was the body of a bear, its head smashed in and dead.

Despite the seemingly insurmountable heft, the figure pulled it along effortlessly, a testament to incredible strength.


Continuing on the mountain trail, the person paused as they heard the troubling sounds coming from their hut at the foot of the mountain.

Huge creatures were lurking around the hut.

Their stature matched that of wolves, no, even bigger than bulls, and covered with ashen fur. Their red eyes glinted menacingly, and parts of their manes seemed to flicker like fire.

The ashen demonic wolves, fiends summoned from the chaos caused by a dungeon break, were prowling around.

This world often brought monsters into confrontation with its inhabitant.

Seven ashen demonic wolves encircled, surrounding the figure.


Then, they charged from all around.

Some aimed for the bear’s corpse, others for the figure.


But the person, without fetching the iron rod, punched one of the ashen wolves head-on.

Incredibly with just a single blow, the wolf’s head exploded.


A kick spun out, flinging another wolf away, its head blown off by the lethal strike.


As the person finally reached for the iron rod, the remaining wolves hesitated.

They realized the small human before them was a terrifying monster.

But it was too late.


The explosion and the wolves’ screams dissipated into the wind-whipped mountains.

* * *

Having dealt with the ashen wolves in an instant, the figure used the snow to clean the blood off the iron rod before slinging it over his shoulder again.

And then started flinging the ashen wolves’ carcasses far away.

Despite weighing well over a ton, each tug and launch from his grasp sent them flying tens of meters, crashing into the forest, showcasing his extraordinary strength.

After dealing with the wolves, the figure dragged the bear’s body back into the hut.

“You’ve returned.”

Someone was waiting inside the hut, an uninvited guest.

Clad in entirely black clothing, with a matching dark mask across his face, the man was armed—there could not have been a more suspicious figure. However, the owner of the hut, the figure, was not the least bit startled.

Sitting across from the guest, he asked,

“What brings you here?”

His voice was terribly coarse as if he hadn’t spoken for a long time and his vocal cords had weakened.

“The general requires your services.”

The man in the black mask was a member of Eilden’s Shadow Wolf Battalion.


“It’s not a compulsion, in any case, you’re free to decline. The general said we must respect your wishes.”

“What needs to be done?”

Without hesitation, the burly figure asked, moments after the cautious words of the Shadow Wolf Squadron.

Taken aback by such decisiveness, the masked man took a beat before responding,

“Enroll in the Gatekeeper Battalion, and assist a person.”

“Give me some time. No matter what it takes, I’ll finish it within a month.”


“There’s no need for you to come back. I’ll find my own way there.”

“What should we call you?”

“You can use my own name.”

“Understood, Lord Eiryu.”

It was a name that would have surprised Mord.

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