Transmigrating as an Extra, But the Heroine Has Regressed?!
Chapter 63: "Who Even Is Kael… Really?"

Chapter 63: "Who Even Is Kael... Really?"

The walk back.

The group slowly began their march out of the dungeon.

Several healers walked beside him, hands glowing with soft magic to keep his vitals stable.

Every few steps, one of them would glance at his condition or adjust the runes to make sure he stayed alive.

Right behind them were the three tied-up assassins, dragged along by stern-faced academy guards. The assassins were heavily chained, their mouths sealed with silencing magic,the guards used magic chains, silencing spells, and enchanted ropes to make sure they couldn’t escape.

Their faces were bruised and pale, and though they didn’t speak, their eyes darted wildly perhaps from the anger.

The rest of the students walked several steps behind, the crowd unusually silent for such a large group.

The explosion had shaken everyone. The dungeon, which once felt like just another test, now felt like the edge of a battlefield.

Slowly some of the first year students whisper among themselves.

.

"Was he always this strong?" someone asked, looking toward Kael’s motionless body with wide eyes.

Another replied quietly, "I don’t think so. He’s always been quiet. Kept to himself. Never stood out."

"Especially at the weekend, I don’t usually see him. Maybe he goes out to roam around".

"But he fought off an assassin one on one... alone," someone muttered. "And survived a self-destruction spell. That’s not just strong—that’s insane."

"In a self -destruct, we would fly several meters away".

A third voice joined in, full of disbelief. "Maybe he was hiding his power all along. Or maybe the assassin was weak at all."

A girl shook her head. "No. This... this isn’t something about weak because if assassins were weak, they would not dare to attack."

Then another boy added, in a tone both curious and nervous, "you are right about this."

The idea lingered in the air like a ghost. No one denied it.

Again from near the back of the crowd, someone spoke. A tall student with sharp eyes and a thoughtful expression.

"Things are changing," he said. "And not just for us. The academy won’t ignore this. They’ll start asking questions. Someone just tried to kill a first-year. That’s not normal. This isn’t just a test anymore."

Someone else nodded slowly. "That was an assassination attempt. That means someone planned this... carefully. And Kael was somehow at the center of it."

Alina stood among the crowd.

(So... what I saw back there... those weren’t beasts) she thought (They were assassins.)

A few students turned toward her, eyes widening.

Then she told near her that what she saw was an assassin.

"Assassins? Are you sure?" one of them asked.

Alina nodded. "The way they moved... the way they looked... it wasn’t wild or chaotic like a beast. It was precise. Trained and skilled ."

Another student frowned. "But if they were assassins... then why were they running away at the edge of the tunnel?"

There was a pause.

Alina’s eyes flickered toward the spot where Kael had been lying before the healers carried him away.

She swallowed hard, "Because they failed. Because someone... fought back."

Her hands clenched slightly at her sides as the realization sank in.

(We were that close to being attacked. We could’ve died... all of us.)

She glanced at the others around her, all of them unharmed. Safe.

"And Kael... he stopped it," she whispered. "He faced him. He fought one of them alone... and he saved us."

Another student whispered softly, "So we didn’t even know we were in danger. And Kael already took the hit for all of us..."

"Damn..." someone muttered. "We owe him."

Alina’s chest tightened, and she took a slow breath.

"But that doesn’t mean we should forget the others who fought too—like Edwin, who faced one of them alone, Professor Yulia, and the rest of Group Two. We should thank them as well."

(We never even knew. While we were running around thinking it was just a normal dungeon quest... he was out there, protecting us from the shadows.)

She looked back one last time at the tunnel.

"...Thank you, Kael," she said under her breath.

No one answered, but the silence around her was filled with quiet respect. The crowd stood a little taller. Spoke a little softer.

Because now... they knew the truth.

Then someone among the crowd said, "If I were strong... I would’ve killed all those bastards myself."

The words, though angry, were met with silence. Some students looked down at the ground.

Others looked at Kael—still breathing, still alive despite it all—and felt something they hadn’t felt before.

Respect. And fear.

The quiet student they had once ignored or overlooked had just fought for his life... and won.

As the group passed through the final gate leading out of the dungeon, a soft breeze from the surface brushed against their skin.

Above them, the skies over Arcadia Academy had turned cloudy, as if the heavens themselves reflected the weight of what had just happened below.

Back at the Academy – The Infirmary

So when they carried Kael near the gates of Arcadia Academy, the floating stretcher surrounded by glowing runes, all eyes turned toward them.

Second-year and third-year students, who had been training in the ground one and ground two, paused mid-swing and mid-spell as they caught sight of the incoming group.

Whispers broke out instantly.

"There... that’s the first year, right?"

"Wait, is that... someone carrying?"

"Is he unconscious?"

A third-year boy watches with a bored expression. "Tch. Those bunch of losers. I knew they’d mess something up."

One of his friends nodded. "They got attacked? Seriously? During a dungeon quest?"

The boy smirked. "If that were me, I would’ve taken down all of them. Assassins or not, I wouldn’t be lying on some stretcher like a broken doll."

Another student nearby added sarcastically, "Yeah, sure. You’re all talk until you’re the one facing them."

The cocky third-year glared but said nothing, and they all turned their attention back to the scene unfolding before them.

Kael was still unconscious, his face pale, lips dry, and his body unmoving.

Second-year students whispered as they watched the assassins being carried behind—tightly bound in magical chains, their mouths sealed with glowing magic.

"Wait, those are real assassins."

"From where?"

"Why were they sent against first-years?"

"Why didn’t we hear anything about this?"

"No wonder that person is like that. Did he fight one of them?"