The Extra Can't be A Hero

Leon halted mid-descent as he ventured deeper into the heart of the inverted pyramid. Even buried far beneath the earth, he could feel it—the world above had changed. The very air had grown heavier, tainted with a creeping malevolence that gnawed at the edges of his senses.

It was as if something ancient and foul had awakened, staining the fabric of reality with a demonic presence. He didn't know what had happened, but a chill threaded down his spine. His pulse quickened, not from exertion, but from a rising dread.

Something was wrong… Terribly wrong.

The plan was simple. Sir Gallahad would neutralise the Demon Cult's Apostle, while Leon focused on rescuing his missing allies, and if the situation permits, investigate the cause of the Clay Emperor's resurgence.

Each of them would have their respective battles, and since the Demon Cult was a larger threat, Leon had temporarily transferred authority over to Sir Gallahad.

And though he was far from the battlefield, the silence in his thoughts was deafening. His allies… What had become of them?

"W-What's going on?"

Ellahan, the Saintess and the one closest to the Goddess Hyades, could also acutely feel the change. Creeping closer towards Leon, she locked her arms around his as she did her best to calm her frantic heart.

"Relax," Leon reassured his lover while brushing her emerald hair. "Trust in the rest. They're strong. Amon and Yue selected them for a reason. Besides, Sir Gallahad is with them. There's no reason to worry."

Although he appeared calm for the sake of his lover, deep down, he was also panicking. Things had changed, and likely not for the better. Therefore…

"Let's focus on rescuing Gale and the rest. We'll reunite with them later and reinforce them."

Leon quickened his pace, his boots echoing against the stone floor as he led Horus and Ellahan deeper into the bowels of the forgotten city. They moved swiftly, guided by the Herald's cryptic directions—twisting through narrow corridors, leaping over crumbling bridges, and weaving past countless traps designed to deter the unworthy.

Jagged pressure plates, shifting walls, and illusionary dead ends had claimed many before them. Still, the trio moved with practised precision, their sharp instincts and honed bodies carrying them through each trial with relentless momentum. Their breaths remained steady, their movements fluid—each of them forged by war and hardship, their stamina far beyond that of ordinary men.

Through collapsing passageways and ancient stone gates sealed with arcane runes, they pushed forward, driven by urgency and purpose. Then, the path opened. They emerged into a vast chamber, and all at once, the world changed.

Before them stood the legendary heart of the ancient city—a sprawling metropolis sculpted from gleaming gold and radiant crystal, preserved flawlessly beneath the earth. Towering spires shimmered with light that should not have reached so deep, while bridges of translucent stone arched across silent canals. No dust touched the walls, no decay marred its glory.

It was as though time itself had bent around this place, revering it as sacred. The trio came to an instinctive halt. For a long, silent moment, none of them spoke. Even warriors as seasoned as they were could not help but be caught in the sheer majesty of what lay before them.

A civilisation long lost... yet still alive in its splendour.

Awestruck, they stood at the edge of forgotten greatness, letting the silence speak the reverence none of them could put into words.

"So this is… El Dorado?"

Ellahan broke the silence with her distinct awe.

"No wonder Amon told us to come… It is a sight to behold. How much money would all of this gold be worth?"

Horus spoke with wonder as he turned his head around.

"..."

Only Leon remained silent. Amon's concern with El Dorado wasn't the ancient wonder, but the Clay Emperor that lived within it. Leon knew that riches didn't interest Amon; therefore, his attention was solely on the being who lay asleep deep within the golden city.

"Let's move quietly…"

Still, Leon didn't lose sight of his goals. The first order of business was to rescue his comrades who had gone missing, likely through kidnapping. Anything else could be discussed after Leon confirmed their safety.

"The Herald said that they were being held in an inner sanctum near the golden tree. If we can find that tree, then…"

"Leon, watch out!"

Before Leon could even begin searching for his comrades, a sudden whistle tore through the air. Without hesitation, Horus unsheathed his blade and cleaved through a massive boulder hurtling toward them, the impact sending a shockwave through the chamber. Shards of stone were scattered in every direction.

Leon's eyes widened in alarm. In one smooth motion, he drew Ascalon, its radiant edge gleaming with divine light, ready to meet whatever threat had found them.

"Thank you, Sir Horus."

"Get ready! We have company!"

Leon and Ellahan swallowed hard as the golden haze of the ancient metropolis began to stir. From its shadowed corridors and silent plazas, over a hundred figures emerged—massive, imposing soldiers, each standing well over two meters tall.

Their movements were precise, almost ritualistic, as they stepped forward in eerie unison. Each one bore ancient weapons—gleaming spears, broad-bladed swords, curved bows strung with sinew. A few among them raised staffs etched with runes, arcane energy already flickering at their fingertips—sorcerers from another age.

The force they faced was not just overwhelming in number, but steeped in a sense of ceremonial dread. Yet one detail made them truly uncanny.

They were not men.

They were sculpted from clay—perfectly moulded, lifelike warriors, animated by some long-forgotten magic. Their hollow eyes glowed faintly, as if echoing the will of a forgotten god. And they were marching straight toward them.

"Clay soldiers?!"

"That's why they call him the Clay Emperor, huh?!"

Leon and Horus braced themselves as the army of clay soldiers surged forward with chilling precision. Though forged from lifeless earth, they moved with the discipline of a seasoned Knight Order—flawless in formation, each unit seamlessly covering the other's vulnerabilities.

Archers and magicians launched coordinated volleys of arrows and spells, providing suppressive fire that shielded the advancing spearmen and swordsmen.

Recognising the threat, Horus wasted no time. He released both Solstice Sanctuary and Flaming Throne, twin domains that bathed the battlefield in searing golden light. A wave of warmth and clarity washed over Leon, rejuvenating his body and sharpening his senses.

In response, he summoned his full might—four radiant suns igniting into existence above him, each orbited by three smaller satellites, pulsing with divine energy.

The two knights hurled themselves into the fray, a whirlwind of steel, fire, and radiant magic. Horus's domain incinerated swathes of enemies, his flames bending reality within their reach. His control over the battlefield was absolute, turning large sections of the advancing force into molten debris.

Beside him, Leon became a blinding storm of celestial fury, weaving through enemy lines and targeting the elite—archers, casters, commanders—cutting them down with ruthless precision. At first, the tide was theirs. But time passed, and the truth became painfully apparent.

The clay soldiers did not falter.

They felt no fear, no fatigue.

Fueled by the slumbering emperor's mana, their strength and speed exceeded anything natural. Their movements remained sharp, adaptive, and unnervingly intelligent. And worst of all, they were endless.

For every soldier shattered, two more rose from the golden city's depths, marching forth as if summoned by an unseen will. No matter how many fell, the legion remained unbroken.

And the two knights, for all their strength, were not infinite.

"T-There's no end to them!"

Leon panted heavily, as a wave of comforting energy surged through his veins. Ellahan, the healer of this party, was constantly casting healing magic to relieve the frontline of their fatigue as they fought desperately to keep her safe. But of course, her role wasn't solely just to heal.

"Leon! There's demonic mana within them!"

"... you're right!"

In his frantic assault, Leon was slow to realise the creeping threat. While they didn't possess demonic mana before, the clay soldiers were now entirely emitting it. Then, in a turn of events, they displayed a sense of maliciousness that went beyond thoughtless puppets. They were turning into a demonic version of their disciplined legion, now only thirsting for the taste of blood.

"If they have demonic mana, then!"

Ellahan sprang into action without hesitation. Closing her eyes, she raised her staff and began to chant a fervent prayer to the Goddess. In an instant, a radiant sanctuary of divine light descended upon the golden city, its brilliance sweeping across the battlefield like a purifying wave.

The demonified clay soldiers recoiled as tendrils of black smoke hissed from their bodies. The weaker ones collapsed where they stood, their forms purified and motionless. But the stronger ones endured, snarling as they pushed through the sacred light, their corrupted essence resisting the sanctified force.

Though Ellahan's blessing slowed their advance, it couldn't halt the tide, especially not when thousands more were pouring into the frontlines.

"Sir Horus!"

"I know!"

Realising that staying any longer meant inevitable defeat—if not death—Leon and Horus made a swift, unspoken decision.

They had to retreat.

Channelling the scorching power of his Six Suns, Horus summoned a storm of blazing sunfire that erupted beneath their feet. The flames surged outward in a radiant wave, vaporising the encircling clay soldiers in a blinding flash of heat and light.

Without pause, he raised his tipless blade and slashed the air twice, tearing open a burning path that led back toward the corridor from which they had come.

"Move!" he shouted.

Without hesitation, the trio sprinted toward the exit, the heat of the sunfire searing behind them. But just as they neared the threshold, a massive boulder came hurtling through the air and crashed down in their path, forcing them to halt.

They turned—just in time to see the source.

A clay giant, towering over ten meters tall, stood like a monolith at the edge of the golden plaza. Its arms, each as thick as tree trunks, dropped to its sides as it reached for another boulder with mechanical precision.

But the actual threat had yet to reveal itself.

From the gilded halls of the palace, a figure stepped forth—a swordsman of divine stature, his body sculpted with idealised perfection, a primordial serpent coiled around his shoulders like a living mantle of authority. He radiated a terrifying aura, a blend of regality and violence. And he wasn't alone—three more colossi followed in his wake, each one exuding a unique and monstrous majesty.

The first was a dancer, her movements fluid and seductive, but her silhouette deadly—her scorpion's tail swayed behind her with venomous grace. The second, a brawler, roared with primal rage, twin maces crackling in his fists, antlers jutting from his skull like a crown of beasts. The last was a harpy-like figure, her lower body a swirling storm—hurricanes for legs, wind howling with every step she took.

These were no ordinary constructs. These were clay gods—warrior relics of a forgotten age. And each one radiated power no less than that of a Solaris Knight Commander.

Their eyes locked on the intruders, and Leon gritted his teeth, ready for the inevitable battle.

But that was not to pass.

Ding!

A bell chimed through the golden city, and Leon's attention turned towards the source of the sound. Ironically, it was then that he noticed the golden tree that the Herald was talking about. A single silhouette emerged from the shadows, and the bell chimed with each step he took. He glanced up at the corrupted clay constructs, and a heavy sigh escaped his breath.

"To think the Bell of Serenity wouldn't work… So disturbing His Majesty's sleep wasn't enough, but they're going to taint his precious creations?! Unforgivable!!!"

The golden bell hanging over the man's shoulders morphed into a sharp spear tip, and the ancient man leapt into the air with newfound vigour.

"I'll kill them! I'll wipe the entire Demon Cult from the face of the earth!"

Unbeknownst to the Demon Cult, that was the moment they had made an enemy of a terrifying enemy… one that was once called the trump card of the Sekhmet Empire, and the final living soul of the ancient dynasty lost to time.

The Sky Spear, Manon.