I'm an Extra, so What?

The temple's ancient voice faded, but its weight hung heavy in the air.

Luka's fingers tightened around Snow's small frame as the baby dragon nestled against his side, still glowing faintly despite the exhaustion in his eyes.

The glow wasn't just light — it was history, power, and hope all at once.

Serene knelt beside one of the cracked silverstone pillars, brushing her fingers over the intricate carvings etched deep into the roots.

"The anchors… the obelisks," she murmured, her voice thick with awe and worry.

"They weren't always instruments of war or corruption. They were meant to hold the balance of this land's magic. But someone turned them into weapons."

Gregor's heavy breathing filled the silence as he hefted his axe onto his shoulder.

"If those corrupted beasts were drawn here, this place is a beacon. Whatever 'he' is — whoever wants Snow — he won't stop coming. We need to move fast."

Arthur, still limping but sharper than ever, studied the glowing crystals carefully. "The temple's warning was clear. Three remain. Three anchors still active. If we can find them, maybe we can stop the spread of whatever this corruption is before it's too late." His eyes flicked to Snow, then to Luka. "And Snow's power—it's linked to those anchors somehow. He's the key."

Luka swallowed hard, a knot tightening in his stomach. The burden that had once seemed distant now pressed on him like a stone. "So where do we start?"

Snow chirped softly, his gaze drifting toward the darkening forest outside the temple's archway. The faint song—the one that had led them here—floated again on the breeze. It was distant, subtle, but unmistakable.

"Follow the song," Serene said quietly. "It's the only trail we have."

Outside, the golden leaves of the strange trees whispered in the wind.

Vines shimmered faintly, as if breathing along with the pulse of the ancient melody.

The air felt charged with power—old magic stirring awake.

Arthur pulled an arrow from his quiver, fletching it with a quiet determination. "We're not just walking into some ruin or crypt. Whatever is out there is alive. And it's hunting."

Gregor stepped forward, eyes hard and resolute.

"We stick together. No distractions."

Luka glanced down at Snow, who had now regained some of his youthful clumsiness, stumbling slightly as he climbed onto Luka's shoulder again.

The baby dragon's eyes locked with his, the silent promise clear: we'll face this—together.

As they moved away from the temple, the song lingered behind them, fading into the forest's depths.

But far above, dark clouds roiled and churned—shadows gathering with terrible intent.

The true hunt was only beginning.

The group stepped out into the fading twilight, the temple's silverstone archway framing them like a gate between worlds.

The golden leaves above rustled softly, whispering secrets only the forest could understand.

Luka's boots crunched on the soft earth, mingled with the faint hum of the ancient melody that still lingered like a fading heartbeat.

Snow shifted uneasily on his shoulder, his tiny claws digging gently into Luka's shirt.

The baby dragon's glowing eyes scanned the darkening forest edges, alert despite his small size. There was a weight in those eyes now — an ancient sorrow, but also a fierce determination, like a flame that refused to be snuffed out.

Serene was the first to break the silence, her voice low but steady.

"The temple's message was clear — three anchors remain. If those obelisks are still active, they could be the key to restoring balance… or unleashing destruction."

Gregor's heavy steps slowed as he looked around, the setting sun casting long shadows between the trees. "I don't like this. It's too quiet. Like the forest itself is waiting."

Arthur cracked his knuckles, the faint shimmer of mana crackling along his fingers.

"Waiting for what, Gregor? For us to stumble blindly into a trap? We need a plan—and fast. Snow's power might be the bait that draws whatever 'he' is to us. We're not just hunting, we're being hunted."

Luka swallowed his unease and squared his shoulders. "We follow the song. Snow leads, and we protect. Simple."

The melody, faint but persistent, wound through the trees like a ghostly thread.

It pulled at Luka's senses, tugging at memories he didn't have, stirring something deep in his bones. It wasn't just a song—it was a call. A summons from an age long forgotten.

The forest around them seemed to darken as the sun dipped below the horizon, shadows stretching like fingers.

The bioluminescent vines glowed softly, illuminating the path ahead with an eerie, gentle light. Strange shapes moved just beyond sight—eyes reflecting from underbrush, fleeting glimpses of something watching.

Serene raised a hand, signaling the group to halt. "Listen."

The song shifted—no longer the soft melody of the temple, but layered now with a harsh undertone. A warning.

From the treeline came a low growl, primal and menacing.

Snow hissed sharply, wings fluttering as he leapt from Luka's shoulder to hover before them, small but fierce.

"Prepare yourselves," Luka said, drawing his blades as the shadows moved and coalesced.

From the darkness, twisted forms emerged — corrupted forest beasts, their eyes glowing with malevolent light, claws dripping with dark energy.

Their snarls echoed off the trees, a chilling chorus that promised violence.

Gregor stepped forward with a roar, raising his axe high. "Let's give 'em a fight they won't forget!"

Serene moved to flank, shield glowing with radiant mana. Arthur notched an arrow, eyes narrowed, ready to unleash a storm of magic-tipped projectiles.

Luka tightened his grip on Snow's small body and charged into the clearing.

The battle was brutal but swift. Blades flashed, magic crackled, and roars pierced the night. Snow's presence seemed to bolster the group's strength, the ancient song swelling as if responding to their defiance.

When the last corrupted beast fell, the forest fell silent once more.

Breathing hard, Luka looked to his companions.

"We're close. The song... it's stronger."

Serene nodded. "And whatever 'he' is, it knows we're coming."

Arthur's eyes darkened. "Then we better be ready for whatever's waiting."

Luka glanced down at Snow, whose small form was glowing softly again.

"Let's keep moving. The anchors won't wait for us."

The forest seemed to lean in, the ancient melody wrapping around them as they vanished deeper into the night.

The forest grew denser as they pressed onward.

The silverstone beneath their feet gave way to soft moss and tangled roots, the glow from the bioluminescent vines casting wavering shadows on gnarled bark.

The melody, once faint and distant, now wove itself tightly around the air—a living thread guiding them forward, urging them to follow.

Luka's muscles ached from the earlier fight, but adrenaline kept him moving.

Snow nestled close, occasionally fluttering up to scout ahead before returning with a sharp chirp. The baby dragon's instincts remained keen, as if tied to the very heartbeat of the land.

Serene moved cautiously beside Luka, eyes scanning every shadow. "This place… it's unlike any forest I've known. It feels ancient. Like it remembers things we've forgotten."

Gregor's heavy footsteps shook the earth beneath them. "I feel it too. Like the trees themselves are watching us. Waiting."

Arthur, ever restless, kept his bow drawn, arrows ready. "We're walking into the heart of something old and dangerous. But if we don't find the anchors first, the corruption will spread beyond anything we can fight."

Suddenly, Snow let out a startled chirp and darted forward, wings beating furiously.

Luka caught up just as the baby dragon landed on a moss-covered stone pedestal, his glowing eyes fixed on a carved symbol etched deep into the rock.

The symbol pulsed softly—a dragon coiled around a blazing sun, familiar from the temple mosaic.

Serene knelt, tracing the carving with reverence. "This must be one of the anchors. It's not just a monument. It's alive."

Luka felt the air thicken, charged with latent energy. "Can it be cleansed? Purified?"

Before Serene could answer, a sudden roar shattered the calm—a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through the trees. The ground trembled beneath their feet.

Arthur spun around, nocking an arrow. "Trouble."

From the shadowed treeline, a figure emerged.

Tall, cloaked, and moving with unnerving silence.

Eyes like burning coals fixed on Snow.

"Who dares awaken the last of the First Flame?" the stranger's voice was cold, layered with menace.

Snow hissed, wings spreading wide.

Luka stepped forward, blades ready. "We're the guardians now. Leave, or face us."

The stranger laughed—a sound like cracking ice. "You misunderstand. I am no enemy to the dragon... yet. But the anchors must fall, the old magic must die."

Gregor growled, raising his axe.

But before battle could erupt, the stranger raised a hand. "Not here. Not now."

With a swirl of dark energy, the figure vanished into the forest, leaving behind a lingering chill.

Serene exhaled, voice trembling. "He knows what we seek. We're not alone."

Luka's gaze hardened. "Then we have to move faster. Find the remaining anchors. Protect Snow."

The melody pulsed stronger, a beacon cutting through the creeping shadows.

The path ahead was uncertain.

But they would walk it—together.