The Useless Extra Knows It All....But Does He?
Chapter 68 - The Echoes of Mythical Beasts (4)

Chapter 68: Chapter 68 - The Echoes of Mythical Beasts (4)

Blood. So much blood.

The once-sacred Beastridge Mountain, a place whispered about in legends, now lay defiled—a graveyard of youth and dreams.

Shattered earth was soaked red, as if the heavens had wept crimson instead of rain. Mangled bodies lay twisted in unnatural positions, limbs torn, eyes wide in horror. The stench of iron clung thick in the air, mingling with burnt flesh and the sickening scent of death.

Kyle lay in a pool of blood, his arm severed from the shoulder, his sword snapped in half by his side. His once-spirited eyes were glazed over, fixed on nothing—forever frozen in disbelief.

Selena’s snowy-white hair was no longer white, caked in dirt and gore as her broken body sprawled motionless across the blood-soaked stones. Her chest did not rise. Her staff lay shattered beside her, powerless now.

Lilliane’s slender fingers still gripped her wand tightly, even in death—frozen in defiance. Her face was untouched, but her heart had long since stopped. Her lifeless body rested against a boulder, as if she had simply fallen asleep amid the carnage.

Aiden stood, barely—his body riddled with wounds, blood gushing from deep gashes. His eyes burned with fury, determination refusing to die even as his body screamed in pain. With a roar, he drove his blade into the colossal beast before him—only for a massive claw to slice clean through him.

His head fell silently to the earth, eyes wide in their final expression: rage... and helplessness.

The wind howled through the mountaintop like a mourning requiem. No light remained. Only corpses and ruin. No gods came to save them. No heroes remained to fight. It was a massacre—absolute and merciless.

Thousands of bodies laid there with nothing, but helplessness in their lifeless eyes.

Not a single soul lived.

"HUHH—!"

Aria jerked upright, drenched in sweat, her chest heaving, breath ragged and desperate. Her hands trembled uncontrollably as she stared into the darkness of the carriage.

"W-What... what was that...Divine revelation?"

Her voice cracked.

Eyes wide with terror, she clutched her chest as a single, horrifying thought seared into her mind:

"Has fate already shifted...?"

It had already been two days since their journey began.

The tension of the first day—the awkward glances, the uncertain silences—had long since melted away. Now, there was an ease between them, a quiet understanding that came from shared meals, laughter, and the rhythmic lull of the road.

Tomorrow, they will reach Beastridge Mountain.

Luca leaned back against the cushion of the carriage, arms folded behind his head as he watched the world pass by through the rattling window.

Tomorrow... everything changes.

His fingers tightened slightly. The moment the game diverged, the moment my fate as ’Luca’ truly begins... I’ll make sure I’m ready for it.

His gaze swept across the carriage.

Eric lay slumped in the corner, chest rising steadily, a teasing smirk etched even in sleep. He’s probably dreaming of tormenting someone again, Luca thought with a quiet chuckle.

Seraphina sat with her arms crossed, eyes closed, face serene. But he could tell—she wasn’t asleep. She never truly let her guard down. Not yet.

Selena stared out the opposite window, her white hair glowing softly in the evening light. Her expression was unreadable, distant. Thinking of home? Of someone?

And then—his eyes landed on Aria.

She sat unusually still, hands clasped in her lap, her gaze lowered. There was nothing outwardly strange... yet Luca’s instincts itched. Since yesterday morning, something about her had changed—subtle, but unsettling.

He’d asked her about it last night. She smiled. Said she was fine.

But she wasn’t. I have interacted with her countless times in the game. She is a complicated character, but I can understand if something is wrong with her.

Then again... what could he do? He wasn’t her keeper. He could worry, yes. But he couldn’t pry.

I can’t force her, he murmured inwardly, turning his head toward the window.

In the distance, dark peaks loomed beneath the veil of dusk.

The jagged silhouette of Beastridge Mountain stood tall—waiting.

Just one more day.

The final day passed swiftly, like the quiet hush before a storm.

Though the journey remained peaceful, there was a palpable shift in the air—an electric current of anticipation that even the birdsong couldn’t drown out. After all, it wasn’t every day that Beastridge Mountain opened its gates. Once every fifty years—an entire half-century—for a brief window, the mountain welcomed challengers. For scholars, warriors, and nobles alike, it was a generational event.

By late afternoon, the winding path finally straightened, revealing the majestic silhouette of Beastridge Mountain in its full glory. Its jagged peaks pierced the sky like obsidian fangs, half-wreathed in mist, and below it sprawled a stone-walled city—ancient, towering, and humming with long-forgotten power.

The academy’s carriages creaked to a halt outside the city gates.

One by one, the students disembarked.

At first, only hushed murmurs passed between the awed crowd—but the moment all feet hit the ground, the air erupted with chatter and gasps. Excitement, nerves, and curiosity overflowed as they took in the city that only opened once in their lifetime.

Then, as if responding to some unspoken command, the carriages vanished—faded into thin air with a whisper of wind and glimmering motes of light.

The awe-struck murmurs quieted when a tall man stepped forward.

Vice Dean Caelium Thorne.

Dressed in deep navy robes lined with silver thread, his eyes sharp and authoritative beneath the shadow of his hood, he approached the delegation from the Beastridge Council. The figure awaiting him was cloaked in gray, face obscured, bearing the sigil of the mountain carved into an onyx pendant.

They exchanged a few words—quiet, too quiet to hear—before Caelium turned back toward the gathered students.

He raised a hand, and his voice rang clear and commanding.

"Silence."

The crowd fell still.

"We will now enter Beastridge City. You’ll be assigned your rooms—rest well tonight. Tomorrow, the gates of the mountain will open. The rules and structure of the exploration will be announced at the mountain site. Until then..." his gaze swept over the students, "do not cause trouble. Now disperse."

With that, the city gates creaked open.

Students were led in through the wide stone archway into winding alleys of ancient brick and iron-laced windows. The city felt untouched by time, as though it slumbered between the decades it awoke—silent yet watching.

Rooms were assigned swiftly, and soon, Luca found himself in one of the old stone guesthouses, standing beside a very mismatched pair—Aiden and Eric.

He blinked.

"Seriously?" Eric raised a brow, glancing between them. "Us three? This’ll be fun."

"I’m not sure your definition of fun aligns with mine," Aiden muttered, but he didn’t protest.

Luca just shook his head with a small smile. Odd trio or not, it doesn’t matter. It’s just for a night.

None of them had the energy left to speak further.

The moment the door closed, all three collapsed onto their beds, the exhaustion of three days’ travel finally crashing down like a wave.

The stone walls seemed to hum faintly, whispering old secrets.

And outside the window... the shadow of the mountain loomed—watching.

***

Someplace else in saintess Aria’s lodging

The room was quiet—too quiet.

Stone walls surrounded her, ancient and cold. The bed beneath her felt foreign, as if it rejected her presence. But that wasn’t what kept her awake.

She hadn’t truly rested in two days.

Ever since the divine revelation.

Aria sat upright in bed, clutching the cross pendant at her chest. Its faint glow pulsed like a heartbeat, a reminder that the gods were always watching... always warning.

Her fingers trembled.

That divine revealation...

No matter how much she tried to push it away, it lingered—vivid, consuming, like the afterimage of staring too long at the sun. Cities crumbling. Skies torn open. Blood staining holy grounds. Heroes falling. A shadow so vast it swallowed the very light that dared to resist it.

"Is this really... the end?" she whispered to no one.

The divine revelation was not to be spoken aloud. Its contents sealed by celestial law. If the truth were revealed—even by accident—it could invoke Divine Wrath. The world would burn before it had a chance to prepare.

And yet, how could she stay silent?

How could she not do something?

My role as the Saintess... it isn’t just to heal. It’s to guide. To protect.

To steer the heroes toward the path that avoids destruction.

Her knuckles whitened around the pendant.

She lay down slowly, staring at the flickering candlelight against the ceiling.

Her eyes remained open for a long while—until at last, she whispered into the silence, "I won’t let it happen. I swear it."

With a quiet breath and a resolve wrapped in steel, Aria finally allowed herself to close her eyes.

Sleep came—not peacefully, but enough.

Outside, the stars above Beastridge shifted in silence, as if even they were holding their breath for what was to come.