The Extra Can't be A Hero

Malachi instantly panicked at the sight of the man and immediately fell to his knees. That sudden movement made Alrock pause and reevaluate the handsome man, even though he couldn't feel the slightest threat from him.

His ashen-grey hair drapes over his shoulders like strands of mist, perpetually shifting as if caught in an invisible breeze. His eyes are voids, pupil-less expanses of pale silver, reflecting nothing yet seeing all. Impeccably dressed, his garments fuse noble refinement with occult grandeur. Donning a deep charcoal suit with silver embroidery layered beneath an elegant high-collared coat that shimmers with faint, otherworldly sigils.

There wasn't a shroud of mana or aura from the mysterious gentleman, yet… Alrock felt like he couldn't underestimate him.

"P-Prophet!"

"Calm yourself, and don't break attention, Malachi. We're still in battle."

"Y-Yes, sir!"

The Apostle instantly jumped as a sharp glint sparkled in his eyes. Like a highly wound spring, the Demon Swordsman was now ready to strike at any moment and no longer showed remnants of his former mercy. It was as if he had morphed into a weapon built to eradicate his enemy.

All because… of the man who appeared.

"For Malachi to become such a loyal dog… you must be the leader of the Demon Cult."

"I don't know if I must be," the Prophet smiled without expressing his genuine emotions. "The one who leads the Demon Cult is none other than my king. I'm just the messenger who acts according to his will."

"But you are the mastermind behind the Demon invasion."

The Prophet's perfect smile cracked a little as Alrock casually divulged matters of the Demon Cult.

"... Colour me surprised. I had no idea that Solaris House's information network runs this deep. I must say, I have underestimated you."

The Demon Cult had never once revealed itself to the world, and the Prophet had taken great strides in hiding their existence until they were ready to take over. Hence, he didn't expect Alrock to uncover their existence, even the name of their organisation, that easily.

Naturally, he wasn't aware of the cheat existences called Amon Solaris and Yue Elune—a transmigrator and regressor, respectively. So, he firmly believed that he'd miscalculated the threat levels of the Solaris House.

"What are you planning?"

"As much as I would love to stay and share the secrets of my evil plan, I don't want to spoil the fun, now do I?"

The Prophet answered Alrock's question with a sly smile. Mana surged from his body as an ethereal mist grabbed ahold of the two unconscious Apostles, who were lying flat after overexerting themselves. At the same time, a foreign purple energy enveloped the ruins of the Foolish Lich's lair and devoured all its contents like a hungry hippopotamus.

The surreal manoeuvre made Alrock frown as he could guess what the man's next move would be.

"Trying to escape?"

"Escape? I prefer the term strategic retreat."

"And did you think I would just let you stroll home?"

Alrock pointed the black Zenith blade at the Prophet as the radiance of eight Suns going supernova was channelled upon its tip. The Solaris Lord could split the seas and cleave valleys from canyons with a single swing. And all of that pent-up violence that the Solaris Lord had withheld would now be unleashed all at once.

Alrock aimed to destroy Malachi and the Prophet with a single swing. Fueled by his [Embodiment of the Sun], the great master showed his ultimate ability. An endless tsunami of golden flames emerged from his greatsword, flooding the two Demon Cult's highest operatives with an overflow of destruction.

No matter how powerful, any living human could not escape from the golden flood unscathed. Most would even perish.

But the Prophet… wasn't a living human.

"And here I was hoping for a proper dialogue."

With his fingers outstretched, the Prophet created a barrier of mist which absorbed and deflected the power of the surging golden flames. Like an ever-growing monster, the mist barrier proliferated until it suffocated the last of Alrock's fire, and the world was quiet again.

"You…"

"Solaris Lord… As much as I would have loved to trade blows with you, continuing down this path would be unwise."

The Prophet advised while showing he had the upper hand.

"If we clash here… Don't you think the collateral damage would be too steep? Not just for the thousands of innocent lives in Alverton, but also…"

The ghostly man then turned his attention to the young warriors taking cover at a distance. Although there wasn't any life in his eyes, Alrock instantly understood his intentions. If they continued to battle, the Prophet would actively target the youngsters. And while Alrock may be able to defeat the Demon Cult, there was no guarantee that Leon, Amon, and the others would survive the ordeal.

"You bastard…"

The flames on Alrock's body intensified with solar mana while the hand holding his blade began to tremble.

"Well, I am a Demon in your eyes, after all."

The Prophet joked while stifling a laugh.

"Your precious Hero… I doubt he would survive our battle. And as for the other younglings… Well, there's no need to imagine what would happen to them, right?"

"..."

"So let me propose a truce. I will retreat with my men while you'll stand down with yours. That way, none of us will have to expend unnecessary energy."

"..."

Usually, Alrock would never negotiate with a terrorist, particularly a Demon. But the situation was far from ideal for the Solaris Lord. Even without looking, he could sense that both Carmen and Horus were severely injured and in need of healing assistance. And while Amon was still in perfect health, his mana pool was strikingly low.

The only person he could include in his fighting force was Leon, who was vastly weaker than any of the three mentioned before.

The warrior in Alrock told him to fight… to get rid of the demonic threats right before him.

But before Alrock was a warrior for humanity, he was the Solaris Lord, a grandfather, and a master.

He couldn't let others under him suffer for his selfish ambition.

"I shall give you one chance. Scurry back like the mongrels you are. I'll send you back to hell if you try to do anything funny."

"How scary."

The Prophet raised his arms in the air as if he were surrendering. The Prophet was prideful but wouldn't fall for Alrock's blatant provocation. Instead, he relished that he'd gotten under the mighty Solaris Lord's skin and prepared himself for an elegant retreat.

With one backhand fist, the Prophet cracked the mist-amplified air, forcing a dimensional gate to open. The gate showed a path into darkness, and no one knew where it led. All the spectators could see and feel was the Prophet's suffocating energy and an image of despair.

As if… if they followed the Prophet into the darkness, they would be swallowed whole, never to return.

Throwing the twins into the gate, the Prophet gestured for Malachi to head inside before stepping inside the portal himself. However, before he left for good, the Prophet turned his head around and took one final look at the youngsters on the ground, or more specifically…

"..."

Amon locked eyes with the Prophet and showed not a single ounce of fear.

A million thoughts ran through his mind at that moment. The Prophet was the final boss of [Bright], and one of its most enigmatic characters. Even Yue, who had traversed space and time, barely knew what the Prophet could do and how powerful he was.

In many ways, if the Prophet was defeated, all future Calamities could be averted.

Hence, the Prophet… was Amon's true archnemesis.

Conversely, the handsome gentleman was facing the same turbulent emotions.

The Prophet paused, and his gaze lingered. Most of his plans had been working, and the Demon Cult had been building into a true powerhouse. However, eight years ago, all of that changed. His calculations were thrown off the mark, and the Demon Cult was rapidly weakened. Even today, they'd almost lost one of their most precious assets, and if it weren't for Malachi's timely appearance, two Apostles would have perished.

Initially, the Prophet believed the Goddess was meddling in their affairs, but he now knew… it was someone else.

It was the young man who stared right at him with cold, murderous eyes.

'It's you… you're the anomaly.'

The Prophet finally identified the deviation from his plan.

'How amusing…'

Amon stared into space as the portal closed, and the Prophet disappeared with his Apostles. His thoughts were occupied with the Prophet's sighting, a deviation far beyond his expectations. Clenching his fists, the young Knight circled through innumerable scenarios and came to one conclusion…

'I'm still not strong enough to deal with them yet.'

The apex of the world.

Alrock, Malachi, and the Prophet.

They were still existences far from his reach. Additionally, the Demon Cult will only grow stronger as they culture and acquire new followers. If anything, the Apostles and the Prophet were the weakest as they were now, yet… Amon was still too weak to defeat them all.

'I think it should be time… to create a new Mystic Art.'