The extra Is too Strong – Chapter 92

The Extra is too strong

Episode 92: The Extra Is Too Powerful

“How dare they…!”

Each strike was nothing short of lethal.

Despite taking four such attacks, Emit showed no signs of death.

“Do you know who I am to be doing this to me?”

“One of the nine candidates of Prexaslas’s godhood, Emit.”

At Mord’s leisurely response, descending the stairs, Emit flinched.

“Isn’t that reason enough for you to die?”

“Don’t make me laugh. If I die, do you think our organization will just let you off the hook?”

“They will. The other god candidates will probably celebrate one less competitor. After all, you’re competitors, not allies.”

“How, how do you know that?”

Emit couldn’t hide his confusion.

The relationships among the nine candidates for Prexaslas’s godhood could be called horizontal.

They would collaborate out of necessity, but primarily they acted independently without any real cooperation.

Their only commonality was being chosen by the artifact of the god Prexaslas, barely enough to call them an organization.

This was the will of Prexaslas.

‘To pit nine against one another, ensuring that even if one fails, the others will survive to fulfill the purpose.’

Prexaslas’s goal was the birth of a god, not the creation of a large organization.

The reason for having nine candidates was that even if eight failed, the last one would become a god.

“Answer me!”

Emit shouted in rage.

Kayel was incredulous.

“You get beaten up like that and still don’t understand your situation? You think you’re in a position to push us?”

“Vermin dare! You think you’ve backed me into a corner with your little surprise?”


The manor shook as if it would collapse.


And the floor shattered as countless tentacles erupted.

“What is this now?”

It was an unexpected development.

Nevertheless, everyone swiftly responded. They dodged the tentacles and counterattacked!

“There’s a lot of them, but they’re nothing special!”

The tentacles were severed and burst apart with each attack.

But the real problem was different.

Some tentacles were fusing with Emit?

-Execution’s Light!

At that moment, a burst of light struck Emit from the second floor stairway.


It was an attack from Parwell, who had been waiting with Leon.

But it was in vain.

Countless tentacles blocked the path of the light, protecting Emit.


Parwell cursed, while Emit completed his fusion with the tentacles.

“Now, it’s time for you to receive the punishment for daring to damage my sacred body.”

The unhuman figure Emit had transformed into laughed maliciously.

* * *

Emit’s appearance was that of a humanoid monster.

His muscular body, even bigger than Mord, stood at 2.70 meters and had a blue sheen.

His face resembled a tiger but was blue, and his eyes were like red jewels. On either side of his head were large, bull-like horns.

Above the horns, blue flames burned like hair, and from those, a powerful magical energy spread.

“This could be fun. Let’s see what you have.”

Mord flicked a finger.

Emit charged with a stomp.


His charging speed was lightning-fast.

At the thought of a stomp, he was already in front of Mord, and…


Mord quickly grabbed the horns and entered into a contest of strength with Emit…


Pushing Mord backward, they crashed through the manor.


Kayel’s eyes widened.

He hadn’t expected Mord to be pushed back.

Emit, unstoppable like a bulldozer, pushed Mord all the way outside the manor.


Mord punched Emit into the air after being thrown outside.

Under the moonlight, Mord faced off with Emit.

“Aren’t you concerned about catching people’s eyes?”

“Keke, it’s hopeless staying here anyway. After sacrificing you lot, I’ll offer up all the people in this territory and move on.”

“Even your delusions are vile.”

Mord sneered.


<I’m listening.>

Parwell’s voice echoed in his head.

It was a message spell.

Having the presence of a magician was convenient.

Mord, who had experience communicating with message spells during prior operations, naturally responded telepathically.

<Is this man your sworn enemy?>

<Unfortunately not.>

Parwell’s response carried deep sincerity.

* * *

It was three years ago when Parwell’s family was slaughtered by Prexaslas.

That memory was vivid in Parwell’s mind.

He still would relive that terrible night whenever he closed his eyes.

It was a rainy night.

The touch of raindrops from the dark, cloud-covered sky was cold and unpleasant.

The stench in the air was noxious, and the monster’s haunting voice played out as if in a nightmare.

Then the screams.

The cries of his family writhing in pain were an unforgettable scar in Parwell’s memories…


That was the only clue left for Parwell.

He knew nothing of his enemy’s true appearance, just the monstrous form.

Without Mord’s revelation about Prexaslas, it would have taken ages to even find a clue. Or perhaps he would have wandered aimlessly until his death.

If Idell hadn’t happened to be nearby that day and caused the enemy to flee quickly…

<I’d have hoped it’d be him…>

That’s why Parwell was certain that Emit wasn’t his enemy.

Not a single feature, pre or post-transformation, matched his enemy.

<It seems so. But I’ll give you the pleasure of ending him.>

With those words, Mord approached Emit.

The 1.96-meter-tall Mord and the 2.70-meter-tall Emit faced off.

Emit asked, grinning.

“Finished with your last words?”

“You think I was being kind waiting for last words? Sorry, it wasn’t that.”

“Don’t worry. Even if you didn’t mean it, the reality will be as such!”

Emit swung his fist; it was massive like Mord’s head.

But Mord easily deflected the punch and struck back.


An unexpected loud sound left Emit in shock.


Emit was horrified by the result.

His defending arms were blown away.

“Physical ability is all you have, it seems.”

With a single accelerated punch, Mord shattered Emit’s both arms with ease. He calmly advanced.

Emit’s arms rapidly regenerated, rewinding time at high speed.

But the injury was too severe, and Mord was already within striking distance.

“Is that really all you have? To be the last demon candidate, you’re too weak.”

Objectively, Emit was strong.

The fact that he showed such unbelievable power without any professional combat skills in magic or martial arts was astounding.

His raw strength alone was perhaps even greater than Mord’s.

Yet that was all.

From Mord’s perspective, there was no need for transformation to crush him overwhelmingly.

‘Sedokma must have been stronger than this… Maybe it’s because this is all too early.’

After all, the battle where Aidan and Parwell teamed up to fight Emit in Sedokma would happen much later.

“Don’t mock me!”

The blue flames wrapping Emit’s horns intensified.

Then, from Emit’s mouth erupted a blistering breath.


Dense flames engulfed Mord like a terrestrial flamethrower.

However, it was fleeting.


Marching through the flames, Mord struck Emit, and one of the horns broke off and flew away.

“This, this can’t be…”

Mord grabbed the remaining horn, pulling Emit closer.

The breath of a human with divine blood and one seeking godhood met.

Then a one-sided annihilation began.

* * *

Watching the dumbfounded Emit, Parwell was gripped by an indescribable feeling.

‘So strong.’

He knew Mord was strong, as demonstrated against the Silver Blood’s Pursuers.

But actually seeing his enemy, or rather one with such power crumble before that strength, felt odd.

From a rational standpoint, Emit was a monster beyond Parwell’s current abilities.

His overwhelming physical prowess was particularly troublesome for a magician. Even with a well-devised trap, there was little confidence in besting Emit one-on-one.

Yet Mord was treating Emit like a toy, sending him crashing to defeat.


Emit’s screams echoed.

With each flash from Mord’s fists, parts of Emit’s body were destroyed and regenerated.

But the cycle couldn’t last forever.


Mord called out to him.

Before them lay Emit, unable to maintain his transformation, returned to his human form, defeated.

“I don’t know everything about Prexaslas either. What I know is limited.”

Mord tossed Emit’s head towards Parwell.

Clearly, Parwell understood.

Mord was offering him a gift, an opportunity to learn about his enemy and satisfy some of his vengeance.

Parwell readily accepted Mord’s gift.

“Emit, was it?”

Parwell, with cold eyes, began to chant looking at Emit.

“You better choose your next words carefully.”

Parwell laughed, hearing the sound of rain in his ears.

A one-eyed boy’s laugh — he didn’t know how it looked, but judging from Emit’s reaction, it must have been quite a sight.

Parwell was sure of it.

That day, one of the nine candidates for Prexaslas’s godhood disappeared.


* * *

The Leader of the Resurrection Lords, Acrich Dayric, was feeling satisfied for the first time in a while.

Hadn’t he been a lich with decaying flesh, he would likely be smiling broadly.

[Things are going well.]

The Resurrection Lord finally obtained another piece of the Acrich Overlord Krex’s soul.

Joining the one he already had, now he held two soul fragments as one.

[Well done, Dayric.]

Krex, Dayric’s master and mentor, didn’t skimp on praise.

With two fragments, Krex became much more active compared to having just one.

Krex was no longer limited to an item; he could now use a slightly active body using the corpses of suitable victims he secured, gaining access to more magical power and knowledge.

Dayric reveled in joy, having learned new spells from Krex.

Moreover, with Krex’s memories becoming clearer, clues about the other soul fragments emerged.

The Resurrection Lord dispatched two excavation teams, aiming for the third and fourth fragments.

The more fragments gathered, the closer Krex’s revival approached.

Dayric reveled in the positive turn when he heard Krex.


Krex called out, delivering news like a bolt from the blue.

[I’ve lost another fragment. That makes three gone now. Whoever is behind this, we must secure the remaining two at all costs!]

One soul fragment in the Northern Berth Kingdom disappeared.

Krex shared this desperate alarm with Dayric, who howled in despair and rage.

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