Chronicles of Forgotten Extra

As Alden left the scene riddled with corpses, something shifted.

The ground started glowing in ominous red.

colour.

Many charred black hands emerged from the ground.

Their target.

The bodies of the enemies Alden had left behind.

The hands grabbed the bodies, dragging them down, limb by limb, into the hungry earth.

No sound. No resistance.

Just the slow, dreadful sinking of the dead.

Within moments, the clearing was empty.

As if no battle had ever taken place.

__

Unaware of everything happening within the dungeon, Alden walked towards the centre.

If this was the same dungeon as mentioned in the novel, then the centre should hold the exit of this cursed dungeon.

Even if there is no exit, he would at least know this isn't the same dungeon.

The forest behind him was stained with blood, shadows and silence.

He'd taken care of everything.

And yet—he could feel it.

A gaze.

Soft at first.

Hesitant.

Then sharp.

Like a claw tracing down the nape of his neck.

He didn't turn.

Not yet.

The feeling had started right after he had left after killing Lira.

Someone was following him—but whoever it was, they were good at staying hidden.

Almost too good.

His pace slowed.

Another step.

Then another.

The presence didn't fade.

So Alden stopped.

"Are you going to keep staring," he said calmly "or are you planning to introduce yourself?"

A pause.

Then, something shifted.

A soft sound of leaves rustling.

Then the air warped ever so slightly.

Like space itself was politely making way for someone who didn't belong in this time or place.

She emerged.

A single horn curled gently from her head.

Her eyes were red like rubies.

She had long white hair that fell down her back like waves.

Amyra?

That was the first thought Alden had.

No…it can't be her.

She has violet eyes, not red.

She doesn't even have a horn.

He tried to dismiss it, but the resemblance in face was too uncanny.

The woman who stood in front of him looked eerily similar to Amyra.

To be exact… a slightly mature version of her if she had red eyes and a horn.

She looked like a dragonkin.

No, something higher.

She wasn't even suppressing her aura. She didn't need to.

"You're quick," she said, smiling faintly. "Not many would have noticed me."

"I tend to notice things that might try to kill me." Alden replied calmly.

But his mind was anything but calm.

What's happening?

Who is she?

What is she doing in this dungeon?

More importantly, why does she look so similar to Amyra?

By now Alden had already understood the woman in front of him was from the same planet as him.

He didn't feel the delay in her speech like when the system translated to other worldly languages.

That meant,

She was from Eryndor.

The realisation hit him.

Unaware of his racing thoughts, the woman laughed softly, like she was genuinely amused.

"You handled them well and efficiently." Her eyes flicked back to him. "You're strong. Precise. Cold, but not unfeeling. I like that."

He said nothing.

She took a step closer. "How about working for me?"

There was no hesitation in her voice.

No arrogance either.

Just a calm statement of fact—as if she truly believed this was an offer he would be lucky to receive.

Alden stared at her weirdly. "That's a unique way to say 'hello'."

Her smile widened. "Is that a no?"

"I don't serve."

"It's a pity," she said.

She didn't sound disappointed. Instead, she was even more… amused.

"Which empire do you belong to, human?" She asked. "Is it the Holy Empire or Empire of Lunaca?"

Huh?

What are those?

Alden recalled all the information he had, but he couldn't find any name of those empires.

"Vallorian Empire?" Alden muttered, more as a question than an answer.

Then her gaze changed.

Mid-blink. Mid-breath.

Her irises flared deep red, but something deeper.

Ancient.

It wasn't just mana perception.

It was something older.

Instinctual.

Soul-deep.

[SKILL: VOIDHEART IS RESISTING USE OF ▒▒▒▒ ]

[THE SKILL'S RANK IS NOT ENOUGH.]

[ERROR]

[ERROR]

[RESISTANCE FAILED]

What the hell is happening?

Alden's thoughts raced, looking at all the notifications.

He couldn't even understand what was happening.

His sword appeared in his hand as his body tensed.

The woman's expression twisted.

Confusion.

Shock.

And then—horror.

"No… no, that's not… That's not possible."

She took a step back.

Her eyes locked onto his, wide and trembling.

"Why do you have that soul?" Her voice cracked. "That can't be right."

Alden's eyes sharpened. "What are you talking about?"

She looked like she couldn't hear him.

Like her mind was somewhere else entirely.

"You… you're not him. But the soul… the imprint… it's his. It's #@$@. I—no. That can't be." Her breath turned shallow.

Then—

"…What time is it?" she asked suddenly.

Alden blinked. "What?"

"What year? Tell me what time it is."

Her voice was steady again.

Too steady.

"It's Year 5316 according to the Aeonic calendar."

Aeonic calendar was the official one used across the whole Eryndor.

Alden told her the current year and calendar.

He could feel the shift in atmosphere the second he finished.

She didn't respond immediately.

Just stood there, staring into a place far beyond the trees.

"I see," she whispered. "Time is distorted in this place."

And for a heartbeat, she looked impossibly sad.

Like she was mourning someone.

Alden watched her carefully.

"You want to tell me what that was about?" he asked.

"You are—"

She opened her mouth to say something.

But before she could finish, her body started getting covered in golden particles.

Her voice froze mid-sentence.

She tried to yell something.

He couldn't hear.

And with that, she vanished.

Not into the shadows.

Not with teleportation.

As if the dungeon itself had swallowed her whole.

Alden stood still for a long moment.

The weight of her words hung in the air like fog.

What was that?

What did she mean by time distortion?

And where did she vanish?

Was she perhaps from another time?

Alden had read enough Webnovel in his life to know such stuff.

Were those guys whom I encountered before also from a different timeline?

He exhaled slowly.

This dungeon wasn't just altered.

It was wrong.

Warped on levels he hadn't begun to understand.

And now… someone else was watching.

Not the dungeon.

Not a beast.

But time itself.

__

In the silence that followed, Alden sat under a tree—not to rest, but to think.

It made no sense.

A being that powerful—someone with dragon heritage—getting confused? That didn't happen unless she saw something impossible.

Her eyes hadn't lied.

That was real fear.

Real confusion.

Alden frowned.

He remembered her words clearly now.

'Why do you have that soul?'

Not 'why do you feel familiar?' Not 'Why are you strong?'

Why his soul.

That was the part that wouldn't leave his mind.

It meant she wasn't looking at just his face or aura.

She saw something deeper.

And then she asked for the time.

She wasn't lost.

She was displaced.

A traveller from a different timeline.

Alden stared into the canopy above him.

The implications were disturbing.

This place… it wasn't just a dungeon.

It was something completely different.

Alden stood again.

No use speculating too far ahead.

I need answers.

And if that woman was right, then time wasn't just watching—it was bleeding.

___

Author's Note:

Hey guys! Sorry for the shaky update schedule 😅

Currently writing this from my temporary 5-star resort — also known as a hospital bed.

Plot twist: my immune system decided to take a vacation without telling me

Thanks for your patience and support.