I'm an Extra, so What?

No blades. No Skills. No brute strength.

Next—

Instinct would reign.

Not dominance — but harmony.

The announcer's voice echoed:

"In this Taming Trial, each ranger will face a series of creatures — from the gentle to the wild, from the mundane to the mythical. The one who tames the most shall be named victor!

A long pause.

"Round one… begins now."

From the underbrush hopped six mossback hares, creatures known for their skittishness and camouflage pelts that mimicked mossy stones.

Luka knelt quietly, palms open.

No commands. No bait.

He waited.

One hare, unsure at first, crept toward him. Luka didn't move. Didn't breathe too hard. When the hare came within arm's reach, he scratched gently behind its ears.

Another joined shortly after.

Two tamed.

Ardyn used a silent whistle — sharp, high-pitched. The hares paused, then obediently circled him. One sniffed his hand. Another brushed his leg.

Two tamed.

Score:

Luka – 2

Ardyn – 2

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Four sleek, silver-furred cloudtail squirrels zipped out of hollow logs and up trees. Known for their speed and distrust of larger creatures, these were much harder.

Ardyn acted first this time. He pulled a polished crystal from his belt and set it on the ground. It pulsed with warmth — a known calming charm to arboreal species.

Two squirrels came closer. One jumped onto his arm.

Meanwhile, Luka stood still beneath a tree.

He reached into a pouch and scattered crushed sugar nuts across the base of a trunk. Then — with impossibly slow motion — he extended a gloved finger upward.

A small squirrel dropped from the canopy and landed on his arm.

The second followed moments later.

Two each again.

Score:

Luka – 4

Ardyn – 4

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Six squelching, emerald marsh frogs leapt into the clearing from a small summoned swamp. They were notoriously cranky — biting fingers and spraying toxins when upset.

Ardyn bent low and murmured a lullaby in Elvish. Two frogs stopped mid-hop and blinked at him, seemingly soothed.

He reached down — too quickly.

One croaked and sprayed his sleeve with green goo.

Only one remained calm enough to tame.

Luka observed silently. Then, crouching low, he dipped his hand into the shallow water and let it rest.

One frog swam toward him. Then another.

Luka didn't lift them — he let them sit beside him.

A third joined after a moment's hesitation.

The judges raised flags.

Luka – 3 frogs. Ardyn – 1 frog.

Score:

Luka – 7

Ardyn – 5

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Two ridgeback boars stormed into the field, snorting and scraping their tusks against the warding stones. Their backs bristled with spines and their tempers were short.

Ardyn removed his armor's outer layer, presenting himself as non-threatening. He bowed low — a sign of deference among wild pigs. The larger boar turned to him, sniffed, then stood still.

Success.

The second boar charged straight at Luka.

He didn't dodge.

He raised his right foot and stomped the ground with precision, mimicking the territorial boar's signal.

The creature paused.

Luka stepped forward, nose-to-nose with it, and dropped to a crouch.

The boar grunted.

Then nudged Luka's hand.

Both tamed.

Score:

Luka – 8

Ardyn – 6

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Three timberwolves prowled from the trees — lean, intelligent, and deadly. They were more than beasts; they were pack minds.

The elf crowd tensed.

Luka knelt and pulled a strip of raw venison from a pouch. He didn't wave it. Just held it loosely.

A she-wolf approached. She did not take the meat, but stared into his eyes.

Luka did not look away.

He blinked slowly.

She returned the blink.

Then stepped closer and nudged her nose to his chest.

The others followed.

Three wolves circled Luka.

Ardyn's approach was confident. He clicked his tongue in a rhythm and lowered himself submissively. One wolf responded — briefly.

But the other two remained near Luka.

Result: Luka – 3. Ardyn – 1.

Score:

Luka – 11

Ardyn – 7

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From the northern arch emerged one creature.

The towering spirit elk.

Antlers wreathed in hanging moss. Eyes glowing faintly like starlight. The glade fell silent. Even birds stopped singing.

This was no mere beast. This was an ancient guardian.

The announcer whispered: "This round counts for three points. Only one may succeed."

If Ardyn tamed it — a tie.

If Luka did — victory beyond doubt.

Ardyn approached first, singing a deep, haunting melody in a forgotten elven dialect.

The elk turned toward him.

Listened.

Then turned away.

Luka stepped forward.

He said nothing.

He removed his gloves and held out his bare hands.

Then, slowly, Luka bent a knee.

Not in challenge.

But in reverence.

The elk stopped walking.

Its ears twitched.

It approached — hooves silent on grass — until it stood before Luka.

The crowd held its breath.

The elk bowed.

And Luka laid a hand between its eyes.

Tamed.

The judges rose.

"Final tally — Luka: 14. Ardyn: 7."

"Victory to the human ranger… Luka!"

For a beat, the entire forest was still.

Then the arena erupted.

The elves booed.

Luka stood, brushing moss from his palm.

The elk lingered, as if reluctant to leave.

Across the clearing, Ardyn bowed deeply — not to the judges, but to Luka himself.

"You honored the forest," he said. "It chose you."

Luka nodded, words unnecessary.

From the human camp, Arthur watched with cold eyes.

He hadn't clapped.

Hadn't moved.

Gregor nudged him. "You gonna say congrats?"

Arthur didn't answer.

But as Luka passed nearby — quiet, calm, and followed by a fox pup from earlier — Arthur heard the crowd whispering a name.

Not him.

Luka.

And that planted something darker in his heart than any rivalry had before.

He said nothing.

But his glare lingered long after Luka was gone.

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"You should eat," Gregor said suddenly, looking up from his plate:

"You'll need it for the next round."

Arthur didn't respond.

His jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes were locked on the elves across the glade.

He watched them laugh, raise cups, and toss berries at each other with a kind of effortless joy that made his stomach twist.

"I said—" Gregor began again, but Arthur raised a hand to silence him.

"I heard you," he snapped.

Gregor raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Luka didn't even glance up.

The mood among the humans had grown more strained after each event, but after the Ranger challenge, something shifted completely.

It wasn't just a loss—it was how decisively Luka had won, and how visibly the elves had admired him for it.

Arthur replayed it in his mind again and again.

The quiet acknowledgment.

The subtle shift in perception.

He forced his eyes off the elf camp and looked to Luka.

'He doesn't even care,' Arthur thought with disgust.

No pride.

No ambition.

And still… they look at him.

"Arthur," came a voice from nearby.

He looked up to see the healer, her brow furrowed.

"You alright?"

"I'm fine."

"You've barely touched your food."

"I said I'm fine," he bit out.

She frowned but didn't press him.

Luka glanced up for a moment, eyes passing over Arthur like a breeze over still water.

That look set Arthur's teeth on edge.

Then, like a final insult, the elves approached.

They didn't all come—just a small group, probably heading for the shared water barrels—but among them was Nuvian.

Arthur straightened in his seat.

She didn't look at him.

She looked at Luka.

And smiled.

"Luka, was it?" she said, stopping just a few paces away.

Luka stood slowly, brushing crumbs off his shirt and giving a shallow nod:

"Princess Nuvian."

"You handled the spirit elk with reverence," she said. "It does not bow easily. Fewer still ever touch it."

"I didn't need to," Luka said. "It came to me. That was enough."

Her smile widened a fraction. "A rare answer. Most try to conquer what does not need conquering."

"Sounds like a waste of energy," Luka replied simply.

Nuvian looked amused. "Indeed. I'll remember that."

Behind her, Ardyn leaned in and whispered something.

Nuvian laughed softly:

"Yes, perhaps you're right. Maybe there is a bit of the forest in him after all."

Arthur gripped the edge of the table hard enough to make his knuckles go white.

He could barely breathe.

"I hope to see how you fare in the next trials, Luka," Nuvian said, nodding once more:

"The forest respects those who walk without shouting."

With that, she turned and walked back toward her camp.

A few of the younger elves trailed her like leaves in the wind.

Gregor let out a low whistle. "Well. She doesn't usually talk to humans, does she?"

Luka gave a small shrug and sat back down on the stone.

Arthur was still staring at the space where Nuvian had stood, eyes blazing with barely suppressed fury.

"Oh, that's rich," he muttered.

Luka glanced at him but said nothing.

"She's never said a word to me. Not one. I've fought harder, bled more, carried this team for two events—and you, what? You pet a deer and she's offering you druidic riddles like you're one of them?"

Gregor's fork froze halfway to his mouth.

Luka let out a small breath, slow and even:

"It wasn't a competition to impress her."

"Oh, wasn't it?" Arthur stood now, fists clenched at his sides:

"Because it damn well looks like that's all this is. A stage for you to keep showing up like some forest messiah!"

Luka stood, finally, and met Arthur's eyes.

Not angry.

Not defensive.

Just still.

"I didn't take anything from you, Arthur."

"You've taken everything, you smug bastard."

"Enough," Gregor said, his voice low and firm. "We're on the same team."

"Are we?" Arthur's laugh was bitter:

"Because it feels like the rest of us are just background noise for him. You think they even remember I won? You think they care? No—they're whispering Luka's name like he's some goddamn legend."

"No one's keeping score like you are," Luka said. "It's not about that."

"Spare me your wisdom," Arthur growled. "You stand there, all calm and serene, like none of this matters. But we both know what you are."

Luka tilted his head. "And what's that?"

Arthur stepped forward, chest nearly touching Luka's. "A parasite."

Gregor moved to step between them, but Luka raised a hand slightly, stopping him.

Arthur's voice dropped to a hiss. "You're not a leader. You're not even a threat. You just… keep being there. And people start looking at you like maybe you're something. You're not."

"I'm not trying to be anything," Luka said quietly. "But that doesn't make me less than you."

Arthur's eyes twitched. "Keep talking like that," he said. "See what happens."

A heavy silence followed.

Gregor stepped between them fully this time:

"We've got another competition in two hours. Get your head straight, Arthur."

Arthur shook his head and turned away, walking toward the trees.

Luka sat down again, quietly:

'So annoying…'