The Extra's Reincarnation

The entire arena fell silent as every head turned in my direction.

With Uzan's finger pointing directly at me I would've never thought I'd be challenged like this.

"Get up Julian, I challenge you to a sparing match."

I could've thought of all the reasons why it was me, although I had done nothing to be of noticed since arriving at this academy.

Had I known he would've called me out onto the stage I would've backed out without any contest.

"Dude," Tylo whispered, "what did you do to get on his radar?"

Rean and Tylo stared at me, their mouths hanging open in shock.

"Nothing," I muttered.

"Absolutely nothing."

"…."

"The student has issued a direct challenge," Drothgar announced, his eyes finding mine.

"Julian Uzziel, do you accept?"

I remained in my seat, trying to make sense of this situation.

If Uzan became too dominant too early, without Kaelen providing the necessary counterbalance, he'd become an even more formidable antagonist later.

His character arc in the original novel had been defined by a gradual ascension, tempered by occasional defeats that shaped his growth.

But this Uzan, unchallenged and victorious from the start...

"Julian Uzziel," Drothgar repeated, his tone indicating his patience was limited.

"Your response?"

Before I could formulate an answer, Uzan spoke again, his deep voice cutting through my thoughts.

"Perhaps he needs clarification," Uzan said, not bothering to hide his smirk. "Julian—just Julian. I don't recognize your family name because it holds no significance to me. I challenge you to face me in this ring."

The casual dismissal of my surname sent a ripple of whispers through the crowd.

It was a direct insult, the kind reserved for those considered so far beneath notice that even acknowledging their lineage was too much respect.

FWANG!

[MAIN STORY QUEST LOG - THE CHALLENGER'S GAMBIT]

[Description: You have been challenged by Uzan Modan Jr. in the first-year combat ring. This unexpected confrontation represents a critical divergence from the original timeline.]

[Objective: Achieve a draw against Uzan Modan Jr.]

[Reward: To be calculated upon completion]

[Warning: Failure to accept this challenge will result in significant negative alterations to future events]

"Whatever I accept."

Crunch…

"Julian are you okay?"

I don't know what was wrong with me…

But I feel, mad?

Not just at the challenge, but at the casual dismissal of my family's name.

My mother who had sacrificed everything to raise me.

Who had worked a long job to put food on our table.

Who had given me her family name with pride.

Uzziel.

The name I carried wasn't just a collection of letters.

It was her legacy.

I closed the quest window with a flick of my wrist, my eyes never leaving Uzan's smug face.

The system's warning about timeline alterations barely registered.

This wasn't about the plot anymore.

"I accept your challenge," I finally said out loud, as I rose from my seat.

Rean grabbed my arm.

"Julian, are you insane? Did you see what he did to Kaelen?"

"Right? Even if you are a specials admission student I don't even think you can take him on." Tylo added.

I shook off his hand, already making my way down toward the ring.

This wasn't part of anything I had in mind, but some things transcended planning.

As I descended into the ring, I could hear the whispers spreading throughout the arena.

"Is he suicidal?"

"Who even is this guy?"

"Didn't he get thrown across the forest in the Capture the Flag match?"

Uzan's smirk widened as I approached, his massive frame dwarfing mine as we stood face to face.

"You know," I said quietly, just loud enough for him to hear.

"I planned to spend my time here at Aethel Academy avoiding attention, staying in the background, and letting others take center stage."

I rolled up my sleeves methodically, each movement precise.

"But if you want to try and stain my mother's last name, then I won't back down. Not from you, not from anyone."

Uzan's eyebrows rose slightly, perhaps surprised by the intensity in my voice.

"Strong words for someone about to be hospitalized."

Drothgar stepped between us.

"The rules remain the same. The match ends when one contestant is unable to continue or surrenders."

"Begin when ready."

He stepped back, leaving Uzan and me alone in the center of the ring.

"I'll make this quick,"

Uzan promised, settling into his stance with his legs spread wide, hands raised in the traditional dwarven combat position.

I didn't respond, instead taking a deep breath and centering myself.

I didn't need to win this fight.

The system had only asked for a draw.

But even achieving that against someone of Uzan's caliber would require everything I had.

…

…

…

As Julian and Uzan faced each other. Julian had to crane his neck to look up at his opponent, the half-dwarven giant standing almost twice his height.

Uzan's massive frame was a full shadow over the smaller student, his broad shoulders and thick arms making Julian look almost childlike by comparison.

Despite his own well-trained physique, Julian knew he was at a severe disadvantage in terms of physical power.

-He's not just tall, he's dense with muscle and magic. For the ultimate body it's built for absorbing damage and dealing devastating blows.

As a support specialist, his conventional approach would be to find a weakness to exploit—a physical vulnerability or tactical flaw.

But against Uzan, whose body seemed designed to withstand punishment, conventional tactics wouldn't work.

Speed was Julian's only clear advantage.

'Hand-to-hand it is,' Julian decided.

'If I can't overpower him, I'll outmaneuver him.'

Across the ring, Uzan's mind was racing with his own calculations.

He remembered Franz's warning back from the capture the flag match.

-"Don't underestimate him. Julian Uzziel is more than he appears."

Despite his outward confidence, Uzan had taken those words to heart.

If Franz Evera, arguably the greatest prodigy at the academy, had singled out this unassuming first-year, there must be something worth noting.

'No holding back,' Uzan resolved.

'I'll end this with my first strike.'

"Begin!" Drothgar's voice cut through the tension.

WHOOOSH!

Uzan moved instantly, his massive body launching forward with surprising speed.

His right fist began to glow as he channeled a strange energy through his arm, activating the soul arts technique he'd practiced over years of training.

HWAM!

Dark purple energy coated around his hand, forming a deadly aura with power showing the mark of someone approaching the intermediate stage of soul arts mastery.

'Ah… he's close to the advanced stage.'

Julian stood perfectly still, watching Uzan's approach slowly in his eyes.

'I've got you now!'

Just as the massive fist seemed certain to connect with his face, Julian's red eyes flashed with an inner light.

'It's always too slow.'

With a movement so slight it was barely perceptible, he shifted his head to the side, allowing Uzan's fist to pass within millimeters of his cheek.

In the same fluid motion, Julian raised his right hand, channeling his own soul arts.

Black armor materialized over his fingers and palm, surrounded by a crimson aura that pulsed like a heartbeat.

The technique was flawless—not the work of a beginner, but of someone with the knowledge of advanced soul arts.

"…!"

Uzan's eyes widened in shock.

'He knows soul arts?!-'

BOOM!

Julian's fist connected with Uzan's jaw, the sound of impact echoing through the suddenly silent arena.

"…!"

-Did he?

-No way a support role can do that.

-Against that freak of a tank…

The crowd collectively gasped as the half-dwarven prince's head snapped back, his massive body staggering backward.

For the first time all day, Uzan Modan Jr. had been moved against his will.

'What happened?'

Uzan's mind raced to process what had just happened.

He'd been hit… truly hit, by someone he'd considered insignificant moments ago.

The force behind Julian's strike had been staggering, far beyond what should have been possible for someone of his size.

Despite Uzan's legendary durability, pain blossomed across his face, a sensation he'd rarely experienced in combat.

And ever in his lifetime.

The only time he had truly experienced pain was from that mysterious swordsman, his father, and the Grand General Autumar.

'How did he do it… how did he even react.'

As he looked down at his opponent, Uzan couldn't comprehend how Julian had managed to reach him.

The height difference between them was large, yet somehow Julian had struck him cleanly on the jaw from below.

It defied conventional physics.

Julian stood calmly, his right hand emanating wisps of smoke from the impact.

The black soul-arts armor covering his fingers seemed to pulse with excessive energy.

Uzan touched his jaw, feeling the heat radiating from where Julian's blow had connected.

No one had ever hit him with such force, not even during his training with the royal guards back home.

"So you're not just a support specialist after all," Uzan said, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

For the first time in months, he felt the thrill of a worthy challenge.

"This might be interesting."

Julian merely adjusted his stance, his expression giving away nothing.

"I'd have preferred to test you with weapons," Uzan continued, rolling his shoulders.

"My war hammer against whatever blade you favor. But this will suffice."