The Extra Can't be A Hero
Chapter 194 194: The First Calamity (4)

In the distance, Arya and Bawi were frantically trying to aid in the mass evacuation of Espadavale. Most of the residents here were farmers and had practically zero fighting capabilities. Hence, they acted as the first line of defence as Abomination's minions came flooding into town.

"Head to the shelters! Don't drag your valuables out! Those with children and the elderly are given priority. Those who can fight, grab your weapons!"

Although she always displayed a happy-go-lucky attitude, Arya was a bona fide ordained Knight of the Solaris House. She had undergone disaster management training during her time at the Academy, and her experience in Eldorin had enhanced her charisma and confidence, allowing the confused villagers to follow her orders despite her youth.

As Arya herded the villagers into the shelter, Bawi stood firm at Espadavale's entrance, her resplendent blade shimmering with divine sharpness.

Although Amon and Yue were doing a good job of containing Abomination's minions, there were a few stragglers who managed to slip through the cracks.

Most of them were weaker Demons that weren't threatening in the slightest, and the sword maiden could decapitate them with a single swing of her blade. The problem was the numbers that swarmed in and how difficult it was to balance protecting the villagers while whittling down the demons.

Eight blades circled Bawi as Aura flew without restraint. At the same time, the sword maiden charged forward with her signature blade as her long golden hair danced in unison with her movements.

The screams of the damned shrieked through the air as Bawi pushed the demonic threat back. Like a deluge of rain, Bawi's swords smited the invaders within seconds, all while she expertly turned her Aura into white lightning bolts that wreathed her blades with otherworldly precision. Leaping from pavement to pavement, the sword maiden swung with all her might, as an oppressive pressure mounted on the remaining demons.

Bawi's sapphire eyes sparkled with pure light—something that most humans would be mesmerised by. But at this time, the Demons all felt their bodies turn cold as their killing intent withered away.

After crossing swords with Amon, Bawi experienced a moment of clarity that propelled her skills into a new dimension.

She had long honed precision and finesse—qualities that made her a brilliant sword dancer. But that was only one facet of authentic swordsmanship. If Bawi aspired to become a complete sword master, she needed to embrace another essential element: raw, unrelenting force.

Just as Amon and her grandfather could command submission with sheer presence, Bawi, too, had to wield that overwhelming power to surpass her limits. From the beginning, Bawi was the crystallisation of the Sword Saint's insights into the sword and the mysterious heavenly rock. The knowledge of mastering the sword was already within her; she just needed to rediscover it on her own.

And the moment she understood this truth, her mana stabilised, and her connection to the sword deepened exponentially.

As if in response, her eight blades multiplied to sixteen, and the crushing pressure she now exuded was enough to bring demons to their knees.

But just as she was about to launch the killing blow…

A beam of light shot up to the skies, and Bawi's face froze. The killing intent she displayed melted away, and her sapphire eyes were now trembling in equal parts awe and fear. Her sixteen blades trembled, and her body felt instinctively drawn to the transcendent light… as if she were a homing pigeon yearning for home.

And with a soft mumble, she cried:

"Grandfather!"

❖❖❖

The Sword Saint—no, the Lord Protector of the Realm—hovered in the sky, his arms clasped behind his back as he cast a frigid gaze down upon the Abomination below. He did not stand; he floated, suspended by sheer will and power, each slow descent sending subtle ripples through the very fabric of space, as if reality itself bent to accommodate his presence.

Now that his mind was unburdened of distraction, he could finally devote himself to restoring his lost vitality—and the change was profound.

The dull, ashen grey of his hair had transformed into a radiant silver, catching the light with an ethereal glimmer. The deep lines of age that once creased his face had begun to soften, like cracks healing in ancient marble. His frame, once worn by time and war, now exuded power—muscles swelling beneath his robes, posture straightening with regal authority. His presence no longer suggested a warrior past his prime, but a legend reborn.

But most staggering of all was his mana.

Once flickering and fractured like a storm barely held in check, it now flowed with perfect harmony, calm, vast, and immeasurably deep. Amon stood frozen, breath caught in his throat, for in that moment he realised he was no longer looking at a man.

He was witnessing the pinnacle of humanity incarnate.

"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting," the Sword Saint apologised while taking his spot between Amon and Yue. "But still… in the time I was meditating, you welcomed an impressive guest."

"... this is what you would have become if you accepted the Prophet's offer."

The Sword Saint's finger twitched, and he did a double-take on the putrid Demon. Thus far, Amon hadn't lied to him, and he had no reason to change now. Therefore, after examining Abomination from head to toe, the Sword Saint mentally heaved a sigh of relief, thankful that he found a different path.

"I see… I was quite a fool. My obsession nearly consumed me."

"You can say that again," Yue interjected, clearly upset. "Make sure your obsession doesn't resurface again."

"Don't worry… My mind is in perfect condition now."

Perhaps it was because he recovered his mental state, the Sword Saint's eyes were no longer cloudy. He stared headfirst at Abomination without any doubts or regrets. His primary focus was on eradicating this threat from the face of the earth.

"What can I do?"

To help ease his guilt, the Sword Saint intended to defeat the Demon all by himself. And his help was a godsend for the Fantasy Couple as they were about to run out of options. Amon and Yue shared a glance, and a different plan was formed by that split second of mental connection. Nodding his head in approval, Amon spoke:

"We need you to injure the Demon as much as possible."

"Sounds easy enough, but… the fact that you're saying it and the exhausted state that you're in… there's something more, isn't there?"

Amon gave a solemn nod before launching into his explanation, detailing everything he knew about the Abomination. He spoke of its invulnerability to physical attacks and its monstrous ability to regenerate faster than it could be wounded. He explained that while it could not die in the conventional sense, it wielded the very essence of death itself—a paradox made flesh. The only way to truly destroy it, he said, was not to fight the creature directly, but to strike at the vessel that anchored it to this world.

And finally…

"Malachi, that fool… To think that he'll end up in that state."

"So… can you do it?"

"Even if I can't… I must."

The old man shook his head and spoke, not as the Sword Saint, but as Kassadin Bromm, the Lord Protector of the Realm.

"I'll do as much damage to the demon as I can; you deal with the vessel when it appears."

With the plan now set in motion, the Sword Saint soared into the sky, a streak of radiant energy against the darkened heavens. Mana surged from his body like a tidal wave, coalescing around him into a dense, luminous white aura. The energy shimmered and twisted until it forged itself into the shape of a sword—elegant, massive, and impossibly sharp.

Raising a single finger, the old master infused it with concentrated sword energy. Then, with calm precision, he traced a line through the air. That single motion unleashed a blade of light—pure, refined, and devastating. It carved through the sky like a divine judgment, and when it struck the Abomination, the impact was cataclysmic.

For the first time since its arrival, the creature howled in agony. The roiling black clouds that had once buoyed it faltered, and the Abomination plummeted to the earth. A deep, gaping wound split across its form, spilling foul black blood and thick grime that sizzled as it touched the land, corrupting everything it touched.

Amon stood frozen, his jaw slack with disbelief. That strike, just one, had achieved what he and Yue together could not. The monster that had shrugged off their combined might now writhed and screamed in pain. Even as its flesh began to regenerate, knitting itself back together at an unnatural pace, the damage had been done.

For the first time, the Abomination had been brought low.

"Tch, I shouldn't have thrown away my sword… If I had it with me now, I could have split the demon in two."

Despite the apparent victory, the Sword Saint clicked his tongue and spat to the side, his expression twisted in quiet disdain. The perfectionist within him seethed—he had landed a mighty blow, yes, but it hadn't been executed at his peak.

Without hesitation, he gathered his energy once more, preparing for a second strike. But this time, the Abomination did not remain idle. Sensing the sheer threat the Sword Saint posed, the demon let out a guttural roar that shook the earth.

Its colossal blade rose high, now seething with the essence of death itself. From its tip, a wave of grey sword light erupted—cold, corrosive, and saturated with the power to extinguish life. The Sword Saint responded in kind. With calm defiance, he unleashed another strike—his blade of white brilliance, infused with transcendent mana and honed technique.

The two sword lights met in the heart of the prairie, colliding in a cataclysmic burst that split the land apart. The impact vaporised the cliff's edge, turning stone to dust and hurling rubble in all directions as wind howled through the destruction.

When the dust finally cleared, the Sword Saint hovered amid the ruin, cloak fluttering in the fading shockwaves. He locked eyes with the Abomination, his gaze cold and unflinching.

"A mindless freak using Malachi's techniques… How far do you plan to irritate me, Demon Cult?!"

The Sword Saint raised his arm to the heavens, and in that instant, a radiant sword light burst forth from his body, illuminating the sky like a second sun. Mana surged across the battlefield, thick and divine, blanketing the world in its overwhelming presence.

Then, they appeared.

Over a thousand swords manifested around him—each one gleaming with a brilliance that defied time. They floated in perfect formation, as though summoned from ancient halls of valour. Every blade bore the mark of master craftsmanship, and within their steel pulsed the lingering will of heroes long since fallen.

The old man stood at the centre of it all, sanctified in a halo of blades, exhaling sword energy with every breath. In that moment, he was no longer just a warrior—he was the embodiment of swordsmanship itself. With the poise of a general and the cold certainty of judgment, he extended a single finger toward the Abomination. His voice cut through the air like steel.

"Kill that thing."