Extra's Ascent

Captain Gerald had the brothers guide him to the exact spot where the Greater Taratect had emerged.

If there was even the slightest possibility that more of these creatures remained underground, his unit couldn't afford to leave it unchecked.

And truth be told, it wasn't a matter of possibility; it was near certainty.

A Taratect Walker of that magnitude wasn't just any monstrous anomaly. No, creatures of that class fell within the domain of Prime Walkers, an echelon of Walkers feared not just for their power but for their cunning. These weren't mindless beasts driven by primal instinct. Prime Walkers retained fragments of reason, enough to discern when to strike, when to retreat, and most alarmingly, when to organise.

When one encounters a Prime-class Walker, it's never alone. That's the true terror. These entities understand that survival lies in unity. They band together under a sovereign alpha, one capable of maintaining cohesion, discipline, and ambition among chaos-born monsters.

Gerald's decision to investigate the tunnel had been the only rational call.

He took Joseph and Eric with him into the cavernous opening, leaving Xander behind at the entrance. Someone had to remain on guard in case another emerged, ready to respond at a moment's notice.

In the hour since they began their descent, Gerald and Joseph had been busy exterminating every taratect that appeared from the darkness.

Thus far, their encounters had been limited to Lesser Taratects. That, at least, was something to be grateful for.

Lesser Taratects occupied the bottom rung of the Walker classification system. Frankly, it would have been nothing short of a crisis if Greater Taratects had continued to appear in their stead.

Even a single Greater Taratect was enough to classify as a high-level threat worthy of a regional emergency response. If ten of them emerged simultaneously, it would warrant lockdown measures for an entire city.

Now, imagine if fifteen had appeared, fifteen Greater Taratects instead of the fifteen lesser ones they'd already encountered.

The tunnel itself was also an unnerving indicator. At the surface, it had been narrow, barely wide enough for two grown men to squeeze through, shoulder to shoulder, uncomfortably compact. Yet, the deeper they ventured, the more the space widened. It expanded until the three of them could walk abreast without brushing the rocky walls, with several feet of clearance to spare.

"This isn't good," Joseph muttered grimly, eyes sweeping the dim, claustrophobic corridor ahead.

"A tunnel this size could only have been carved by generations of them, maybe even a full colony." He exhaled through his nose, fingers flexing by his sides. "Definitely not good."

"No arguments there. Keep sharp. You too, Eric," Gerald ordered firmly.

He hastened his steps, moving ahead of the group so he could take point. The role of vanguard suited him well. Aside from being the captain, his instincts and reflexes are sharper than any in the team.

"R-Right. I'll do my best!" Eric replied, his voice betraying a cocktail of nerves and determination.

Everything was moving too quickly. Eric had been trying, really trying to adapt, but he couldn't keep up with how swiftly Gerald and Joseph reacted to each threat. Their movements were honed, battle-tested.

He had spent so much time complaining about the inactivity, craving something to do. But now, thrust into the thick of things, he longed for the simplicity of inaction.

Still, he didn't want to be left behind.

He wasn't asking to be excluded. He just needed a moment, some space to breathe, to catch up, to grow into the role he had chosen. He had made his bed. Now he had to lie in it, no matter how harsh the conditions.

'No. No more excuses.'

Falling short of expectations, fine. Feeling out of place, understandable. But making excuses for either? Unacceptable. If he truly meant to redeem himself, then he had to do more than simply try. He had to endure.

"Lesser Taratect ahead," Joseph murmured.

"I've got this one!" Eric shouted, cutting forward before either of the older men could react.

He dashed past Gerald, sprinting directly at the approaching creature. As he neared it, he activated his One Leaf Clover, his right palm sparking with the volatile charge of condensed lightning.

His fist struck true, slamming against the creature's hardened carapace. Lightning leapt from his fingers, crawling like vines through the taratect's body, crackling with furious intensity.

The effect was immediate.

The monster froze, its legs twitching. Then, its abdomen began to bulge grotesquely. Swollen veins pulsed under its exoskeleton as the internal surge of electricity destabilised its form.

And then—

Boom!

A deafening explosion rang out as the creature's body ruptured violently, hurling flesh and chitinous fragments across the tunnel. Eric staggered back, coughing, spattered with viscera.

"Oho! That's what I'm talking about! Nice one, rookie!" Gerald hollered, visibly impressed.

The ease with which Eric had dispatched the target, it was impressive, almost unsettlingly so.

"Fantastic," Joseph grumbled, arms crossed. "Just what we needed. Another brute with zero finesse."

He inspected the carnage, the remains of the taratect reduced to meat scraps and cracked shell. Only a sliver of its armour remained intact.

Eric had once criticised Xander for going overboard. Yet now, looking at the remains, Eric had to admit, his method might've been even more brutal.

"I was beginning to think you were regretting joining our unit," Gerald added, clapping Eric on the shoulder as he passed. "Glad to be wrong about that."

"You did well," Joseph acknowledged, albeit with less warmth. "But next time, don't obliterate the damn thing. Show a little restraint, will you?"

But Eric had shown restraint, or at least, he thought he had.

He'd used only a portion of his mana reserves. He'd paired it carefully with his lightning attribute for precision impact. He also kept his clover activation to just one leaf clover.

That was restraint.

So then… what the hell happened?

Eric stood in the aftermath, staring at his palm, bewildered.

The lightning had responded too well, too explosively. It wasn't just about raw strength. The power felt different, more reactive, more alive.

And it scared him.

"What the hell was that…?" he whispered, barely hearing his own voice above the crackle of residual sparks in his hand.