The extra Is too Strong – Chapter 97

The Extra is too strong

Chapter 97: The Extra is Too Strong

The cause for Idlen’s participation by the order of the Silver Blood was a ‘Divine Blood Hunt’.

Those, who had only inherited divine blood but were too weak to awaken its potential, lived unaware of their true nature.

Most of the time, these individuals had no clue about their divine lineage.

And then, one day, they would suddenly find themselves at the mercy of divine blood hunters like the Silver Blood, facing a horrific end.

For the Silver Blood, such a hunt was a simple task.

The reason they had requested Idlen’s help, despite this, was twofold.

“The first reason was that the target they had set their sights on was a troublesome being.”

The divine blood that the Silver Blood had chosen to hunt was protected by a powerful guardian.

While hunting down a few of the family, the descendants had fled to a guardian as their ancestors had spoken of in their oral traditions.

“It was an ancient spirit that had made a blood pact with their ancestors.”

Long ago, the ancient spirit, which could only operate within barriers erected by myths, possessed formidable power.

The Silver Blood had asked Idlen to defeat the ancient spirit and destroy its barrier.

“The second reason was to reveal their truth and make me their accomplice.”

That was when Idlen came to understand the true nature of the nectar essence he had unknowingly enjoyed.

An abominable and evil byproduct of hunting innocents and using them as sacrifices.

On realizing that he had unknowingly become part of the atrocities committed by the Silver Blood, Idlen went mad.

Overwhelmed with rage, he annihilated all of the Silver Blood present and aided those they had intended to hunt in their escape.

“And from that moment, the Silver Blood began to methodically tighten the noose around me.”

The Silver Blood would never forgive Idlen for choosing to be an enemy over an ally.

However, they never confronted Idlen head-on.

Despite their power, even they hesitated to assassinate Idlen, who was one of the closest heirs to the Bernas dukedom.

A slight mishap would have exposed their existence and inevitably led to a full-scale war with the Bernas dukedom.

They worked from the shadows to drain the life out of Idlen.

The Silver Blood, with their tendrils spread across the continent, easily sabotaged Idlen’s bid for inheritance.

They twisted every move he made and pushed him into crisis after crisis.

Meanwhile, they covertly assisted Harden, his competitor, ensuring his success with ease.

Years of such torment left Idlen exhausted.

He might have fought fiercely if they had shown themselves, but the Silver Blood’s tactics were both sinister and efficient.

“In the end, I found myself backed into a corner…”

If Idlen wished to break free from this quagmire, he had to become the duke.

Only by ascending to such a station could he muster the Bernas dukedom’s might and fight them.

But by then, Harden was significantly closer to securing the position of the next duke, and there was only one way for Idlen to overturn the gap.

Idlen challenged Harden to a ‘Soul Duel’.

“It was uncertain whether Harden would accept.”

There was little reason for Harden to risk a fateful duel with Idlen.

Of course, some would whisper that avoiding the duel would label Harden a coward, but his accomplishments thus far were weighty enough to dismiss such chatter.

“Nevertheless, he accepted.”

Harden, known as the ‘Incarnation of War,’ had instincts that overrode rational thought.

His combativeness and pride spurred him on.

Deep down, Harden too craved to settle the score with Idlen, a worthy adversary.

“…As you know, the outcome.”

In full view of all, Idlen was utterly defeated by Harden, who then ascended to become the Duke of Bernas.

Mord asked, “Do you regret your choices then?”

“Not for a single moment.”

There was not a hint of hesitation in Idlen’s response.

“My life’s purpose shattered and blinded, I succumbed to despair. It took a long time to get back on my feet.”

Ironically, it was Harden who lifted Idlen up again.

Now the reigning duke, Harden sought out Idlen to entrust him with the command of the Gatekeeper forces.

“I don’t think it was out of pity.”

Both men had many reasons to clash in the Soul Duel.

But in the moments of battle, all those reasons were forgotten.

It was purely about the struggle to determine the stronger fighter, recognizing each other as lifelong rivals.

“I saw his request as an opportunity and accepted it.”

With the roles of victor and vanquished defined, people would whisper ‘loser’ when they saw him.

The chance to escape that label and start anew elsewhere made Harden’s offer, no, the Duke’s offer, appealing to Idlen.

And so, heading the Gatekeeper forces in the White Demonic Frontier rekindled the fallen Idlen’s spirit.

“I’ve fought the Silver Blood here several times.”

The Silver Blood considered Idlen’s departure to the White Demonic Frontier an opportunity.

They thought this the perfect chance to finally assassinate him.

But they were wrong.

Idlen had delivered them resounding defeats time and again.

His success wasn’t solely his own doing.

It was the power bestowed upon the Gatekeeper forces’ General for generations—the Shadow Wolf Squad—and other allies opposed to the Silver Blood that enabled victory.

From then on, Idlen began to seek talents and invest in the future, further strengthening the power inherited from the previous General.

Eventually, even the Silver Blood had to admit that assassinating Idlen was impossible, considering him a nemesis they would someday have to face in an ultimate showdown.

“But that was merely postponing the inevitable. And ten years ago, the cracks began to show.”

An inexplicable rapid aging plagued the duke.

Seized by an unknown dread, the duke confided his predicament to Idlen, requesting one thing.

If he were to falter in his sacred duty to guard the seal of the Demon King, then Idlen must take his place.

With the next generation of Bernas still young and inexperienced, someone had to fulfill the dukedom’s burdensome obligations until they came of age.

Idlen agreed to his rival’s request, deeply saddened by the disaster that had befallen the Duke.

Yet that resolve was fleeting.

“Two years later, upon returning to the Duke’s castle, I learned the truth.”

The Duke, once fearful of his sudden aging, was now smiling with youth and vigor.

‘Forgive my shameful display. Please forget my request.’

Idlen sensed menace in the Duke’s words.

“The Silver Blood had taken hold of Harden.”

Just as they had with Idlen, the Silver Blood exploited Harden’s weakness to fulfill their agenda.

Unlike Idlen, who had followed his conscience, Harden had willingly joined them despite knowing their vile nature.

‘I am indispensable.’

Harden was consumed by madness.

‘I alone can protect this world!’ the madness of believing he was the only one capable of guarding the seal of the Demon King.

This madness justified everything, even vile selfishness like devouring one’s child for the sake of youth.

“I grieved.”

The Duke was the most brilliant being Idlen had ever known.

Witnessing his fall, Idlen felt consumed by despair.

If such a paragon of virtue could be corrupted, then the entire Bernas dukedom was at the mercy of the vile organization known as the Silver Blood.

“I couldn’t stand by and let that happen.”

Guilt for having unwittingly partaken in the Silver Blood’s atrocities scarred Idlen’s heart.

This guilt instilled a sense of duty in him.

He could not allow the Bernas family to be tarnished by such monsters.

The corrupt Duke had to be dethroned, the Silver Blood eradicated.

“From that day on, I began to seek out hope.”

Someone capable of defeating Harden.

Idlen knew he couldn’t do it himself.

Blinded, he had aged considerably following a near-fatal injury.

Already an outstanding warrior, Harden had maintained his youth through vile practices and continued to accumulate combat achievements, surpassing Idlen by far.

“What I could do was find the bearer of hope and become the fuel for them.”

To Idlen, Harden was the epitome of the perfect warrior.

The title ‘Incarnation of War’ was no mere flattery.

Idlen was sure there might be greater wielders of power, but none could surpass Harden as a warrior.

Therefore, even if Idlen found someone, he had no illusions that they would best Harden.

All he could hope for was to find talent that could become a pivotal force in the battle against Harden.

So he continued to unearth talent and provide support, waiting for the day when hope would manifest.

Mord was aware of this truth.


The role given to Leon in Sedocma was just that.

Though Leon would rise to become the new Duke after defeating Harden, his victory was not his alone.

First, sacrificing his life, Idlen had fought Harden, tiring and wounding him. Only then, Aidan and the others were able to defeat Harden.

“However, seeing you makes me think I might have been wrong.”

Idlen saw a new possibility in Mord.

‘Perhaps this man can do it.’

Perhaps he could become a warrior surpassing Harden, bringing him his first defeat as a warrior.

With that hope, Idlen’s heart raced anew.

* * *

After the lengthy tale, silence enveloped the room.

Within the quietude, Mord gazed at Idlen, struck with awe.

‘So this is the kind of man he is.’

Sedocma did not reveal Idlen’s true intentions, only allowing for speculation based on his actions.

Mord had assumed that Idlen was driven by an obsession with the Duke who had defeated him.

If he couldn’t achieve his goal, he’d do so through someone he had chosen. That is, overthrowing the Duke was his ultimate aim, and the fact that the Duke had fallen merely provided justification for his obsession.

But he was wrong.

Idlen was driven by a far more noble belief.

‘So that’s why. That’s why so many people follow him.’

In retrospect, it seemed obvious.

Kesner, Keel, Rowen, Parwell – they all respected Idlen as their benefactor.

Could a mere madman filled with obsession garner such admiration?

Idlen asked, “Have your curiosities been satisfied?”

“Yes, more than enough. As a token of gratitude for your enlightening story, may I offer you a gift?”

“A gift?”

“Could you spare some time for just a day?”

With a grin, Mord extracted the Tablet of War from his subspace backpack.

* * *

The wraiths of the god of war had been starved for contact until this era.

They had expected descendants to arrive within a mere 500 years, yet none had come.

The recent arrivals had made the long wait worthwhile.

Mord did not monopolise the secrets but rather sent other heirs to the wraiths of war.

‘Another is coming already. That’s quick.’

Typically, the wraiths would awaken only when certain conditions were met.

When a scion of Bernas entered the tomb of the god of war or sought them out through different means.

So the wraiths promptly surmised why they had awakened.

‘Erna left recently, and in the world above, only a few hours have passed… Curious timing.’

Someone had sought them out, not through the tomb but another route.

Leon Bernas had been somewhat uninteresting. He had willpower, but his talent was lacking, pitiable in a way.

In contrast, Erna Bernas was exceptional. Her skills grew with each fight, making teaching her quite satisfying.

‘What will this one be like?’

The wraiths felt enthusiasm as a figure appeared.


Upon seeing the fourth descendant to seek them, the wraiths sensed something peculiar.

Leon, Mord, and Erna shared the trait of youth, with Mord particularly being only fifteen.

But before them now was an elder with long white hair and a beard.

‘Unforeseen, a descendant older than me. And he’s huge.’

The wraiths of the middle-aged god of war chuckled with amusement.

The elder looked older than the wraiths and was larger than them.

“I appreciate the opportunity afforded to my youthful kin.”

A muscular giant of 2.4 meters tall, Idlen expressed his thanks with formality.

“I am called Idlen Bernas.”

“Welcome, descendant. You’re old, and your sight has failed you.”

“That is true.”

“But you are strong. Incomparably more so than the youngsters who have come before!”

“Yes. So, I implore you to provide instruction worthy of my level.”

Pleased by Idlen’s straightforwardness, the wraith laughed heartily and said,

“Good. You already know what you need, so let us battle! We’ll converse afterward!”

The middle-aged god of war stepped back as his childhood self landed beside him.


The childhood wraith gasped, instantly realising his chance of victory was near nil against Idlen.

“Damn. Getting picked on by an old man when I’m just a ten-year-old myself.”

Idlen laughed heartily, raising his fist in response.

“Regrettable, I suppose. But since this is the procedure, let’s give it a go. I’m curious to see how well I stack up against you at that age!”

“Don’t underestimate me! Trampling over my corpse won’t be an easy feat!”

As the childlike wraith charged with all his might, a very different kind of battle began from what had previously transpired.

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