The Extra is a Genius!? Chapter 611: Against the Horde [V]

Stationed behind the primary skirmish, Roberto observed the chaos from the back of the monstrous horde with the detached composure of a spectator at an exhibition that had far exceeded his expectations. Flames erupted across one sector of Thorne Territory, water cascaded wildly in another, and the defensive line proved resilient—shifting, buckling, stabilizing, and counter-attacking monsters that ought to have shattered them ages ago.

Quite honestly, he felt a spark of surprise.

This cycle marked the singular instance where the world had truly mounted such a formidable resistance against him. In every previous iteration, reality had disintegrated far more prematurely. Occasionally, panic decimated their ranks first; other times, the world’s formidable assets failed to coalesce in time. Sometimes, the crushing pressure proved too immense, causing the front lines to collapse before any meaningful narrative could materialize.

But not tonight.

A faint, enigmatic smile touched Roberto’s lips as he watched another cluster of beasts get obliterated by synchronized sorcery, with fresh reinforcements stepping forward to solidify the perimeter. Naturally, he had anticipated some form of friction. Noel had already forced too many alterations for this cycle to conclude peacefully. Yet, this went beyond mere resistance. It was as if the very world had bared its fangs and returned the bite.

Initially, his objective remained uncomplicated. Seize Noel’s physical form with haste, wrap up the mission, and secure his own liberation. That was the only thing that theoretically carried any weight. However, as the battlefield lay stretched before him and the armies of Vaelterra stood defiant against abominations from the mountains—creatures that entire civilizations preferred to treat with distant caution—a newfound warmth permeated the atmosphere.

Excitement.

His gaze swept across the carnage once more, his pace leisurely. 'To think they are actually holding firm against the terrors of the mountains that sever the three continents.' That alone defied logic. Those ranges were ancient, vast, and merciless, yet the mortals below refused to yield. They bled, yes. In some sectors, they retreated, certainly. But they endured.

Roberto exhaled a soft breath through his nostrils. 'This is genuinely unexpected.' His smile deepened slightly as another segment of the line fortified itself just as it neared the brink of total failure. 'And I am finding the spectacle far too entertaining to ignore.'

Roberto’s attention eventually fixated on Marcus. That was only logical. Marcus had once been among his closest companions in this cycle, someone whose presence felt refreshingly simple. Roberto recalled that event vividly. Back then, he had nearly extinguished Marcus’s life. If Marcus remained upright, it was solely because Noel had intervened, dragging him to safety before Roberto could deliver the final blow. At the time, that intervention had seemed like nothing but an annoyance. Observing him now, however, the sensation felt far more complex.

Marcus was alive. And remarkably, he was empowered.

From the rear of the fray, Roberto watched him carve through Ascendant monsters in quick succession, his blade weaving through spells with genuine force behind every strike. Cyan fire surged from his palms in short, violent bursts; the earth fractured beneath enemy feet, and every movement bled into the next with a certainty he had previously lacked. He no longer fought like an individual displaying mere talent. He fought like one who had surpassed the threshold where natural ability alone sufficed.

Roberto’s smile remained ghost-like. 'This is the first time he has reached such heights.'

The conclusion was self-evident. Marcus had evolved more during this cycle than in any other. 'At this momentum, if his growth remains constant, he might well achieve Manacode within a decade or more.' The notion lingered in his mind longer than intended. 'Tragic for him. He has finally secured a rival truly worth pursuing.'

There was a distinct sense of injustice in that reality.

'Regardless, my duties remain.'

Roberto cast his vision elsewhere. He spotted Noel’s companions scattered across various sectors, each bearing her own portion of the war. Laziel and Garron clung to their post alongside Marcus. Daemar dictated the flow of the battle with the unwavering focus of a man who refused to break even as the world faced its end. Redna. The influence of the noble clans. So many familiar faces that had become meaningful during this cycle.

All of them gathered for a singular purpose.

To execute him.

That realization left him silent for a heart-beat. He could not refute it, even if his heart desired to. He had shared genuine time with them. There were moments when he had almost allowed the mission to slip entirely from his mind. Engaging with Noel about the mundanities of life—about women, about trivialities that shouldn't have mattered yet somehow did—those moments possessed an effortless quality that was otherwise nonexistent.

And Noel... Roberto had truly held him in high esteem as a comrade.

His smile softened into something melancholic as he surveyed the theater of war one final time. 'Every beautiful thing eventually reaches its conclusion.'

With that finality, Roberto began his advance. He simply took an initial step toward the conflict, as tranquil as ever, and that was the signal. The beasts trailing him responded immediately, as if the entire rear guard had been patiently awaiting his silent command.

These were distinct from the monstrous forces the defenders had contended with until this moment.

The shift in aura was palpable long before they truly breached the field. Dragons descended from the firmament, their shadows sweeping across the earth like approaching storm clouds before a deluge. Colossal horrors, standing ten meters in height, pushed forward with footsteps significant enough to rattle the fractured crust of the world. Others approached with a different, predatory lethality—lithe forms, low profiles, and razor-sharp limbs designed to slaughter before the victim could even react. Some originated from the mountain ranges Noel had traversed, while many more were enigmas he had never witnessed, for those peaks were far too expansive for one individual to fully comprehend.

It felt as though an entirely new chapter of the war had just been flung wide.

Roberto was no longer a spectator.

High above upon his vantage point, Noel processed the change immediately. His eyes locked onto Roberto before shifting to the reinforced wave of monsters emerging from the gloom. This was no typical reinforcement. This was the next movement in their tragedy, and every second he hesitated was a second paid for in blood by those on the front lines.

Noel let out a sharp breath, his gaze hardening.

It appeared the hour had arrived.