Transmigrating as an Extra, But the Heroine Has Regressed?!
Chapter 70: March of the Mad Assassin.

Chapter 70: March of the Mad Assassin.

The moment he activated the fragment, everything felt wild and violent. The energy inside it wasn’t calm rather it was rough, aggressive, and hard to control.

His vision became blurry. He couldn’t see things around him clearly anymore. It was like a thick fog had entered his mind.

All he could feel was rage—a burning hatred toward the heroes around all the academy.

His fists clenched tightly as he growled through his teeth:

"All those damn insects... I’ll kill them all."

Then suddenly—a burst of cold fire shot through his mind.

His body shook.

The world around him started to twist. Shapes bent strangely, and the colors of everything faded into dark shades and shadows. It felt like the world had lost its light.

His heart began to pound like a war drum, louder and faster, until it echoed in his ears. Then he heard a voice.

Not his own.

A cruel, sharp, and heartless voice.

It whispered like a curse, repeating over and over again:

"Kill. Kill. Kill."

The voice was unfeeling and insane.

It scratched at his mind, trying to take control.

This was the true power of the fragment, the Skill of Madness.

This dark skill was no ordinary power, it originated from demons.

Long ago, demons created this type of power not for demons, but for demon beasts. It was meant to turn those creatures into brutal weapons—to help them hunt, kill, and destroy other beasts during wars between the heroes.

Some demons had personal beasts, trained monsters they raised and used in battle. When the Skill of Madness was activated inside those beasts, they became unstoppable killers, even able to defeat heroes.

That’s why some demon beasts were even stronger than powerful heroes.

And now... that same skill was inside him.

A human.

The assassin’s body trembled from the overwhelming power. He was no longer thinking like a person.

He was thinking like a beast.

A beast trained to do only one thing:

Kill everything in its path.

The young assassin’s eyes snapped open, now blazing with a wild. His movements became jerky, almost animalistic. His breath came faster, sharper. His limbs twitched violently as the power of madness took hold.

It was the skill of madness—a cursed gift from the demon forces designed to break minds and shatter wills. The fragment gave strength beyond measure, but it twisted the soul, warping thoughts into a singular, violent focus.

His lips curled into a savage grin, revealing clenched teeth stained with dried blood. He no longer felt fear or doubt. The only thing real was the command pounding in his mind.

"Kill. Kill. Kill."

A cold, ruthless command echoed through his fractured mind:

"Head to Arcadia Academy. Eliminate all. Let no insect survive."

His weapons—two slender daggers—glimmered wickedly in the broad evening. His fingers itched to draw blood, to spill it freely.

"Those damn insects," he muttered under his breath, voice low and filled with venom.

"Today, you will all meet your demise."

There was no hesitation, no second thought.

The assassin sprinted from rooftop to rooftop, running towards the academy with the high speed and rush.

He ran and ran...

" HAHAHA ":....

The city around him began to blur.

Buildings twisted in his vision, bending and warping like they were melting under heat. It wasn’t the city that was changing—it was him. The madness inside his mind was distorting everything. Colors faded, shapes twisted, and reality itself felt unstable.

The dark, whispering voice in his head grew louder.

It urged him forward, pushing him like a wild beast released from its cage.

He ran through dark alleyways and narrow streets. He didn’t care who saw him. Lamps flickered as he passed. People on the streets caught only a glimpse of his shadow—and it was enough.

In one of the small homes near the alley, a man peered out through the window. His eyes widened in fear.

The figure he saw wasn’t human—it looked like a monster in human form, moving with terrifying speed. The man backed away, breath caught in his throat, and quickly shut his window in fear, whispering a prayer under his breath.

Others on the street caught flashes of him too—a figure cloaked in black, eyes glowing faintly, running like the wind. They froze, heartbeats pounding, too scared to speak. Mothers pulled their children indoors.

A guard nearby turned his head, but by then the assassin was already gone.

His vision narrowed to a single focus.

"Arcadia Academy."

The place where the heroes trained.

The place he had come to destroy.

He didn’t hear the noise of the city anymore. The shouts, the footsteps, the wind—it all faded. Nothing mattered now.

Only the target.

He felt nothing now except for one thing—the need to kill.

The heavy iron gates of the academy stood firm, guarded by armored soldiers keeping a watchful eye. But he didn’t slow down.

Back at the Academy!

The sun had already started to dip behind the hills, casting a warm orange glow over the academy grounds.

With all the professors absent for the day, most students were either relaxing in their dorm and gathering in small groups to practice and gossiping about the mysterious silence from the staff.

Whispers floated around—rumors about a secret meeting, danger outside the academy, and even an attack. But without any confirmation, time goes on.

Among the students walking through the halls was Riku Virehard, a well-known third-year student. With his long brown hair tied neatly behind his head and a sword strapped to his back, he walked with confidence, his boots echoing against the floors.

He looked around and smirked to himself.

"Since there are no professors today... might as well make use of the time," he muttered, but there was always a bit of arrogance in his voice.

He headed toward the first-year class building.

His target? Edwin, the second strongest among the first-year students.

In the First-Year class.

Edwin had just returned from the training field and was wiping sweat from his forehead when Riku was at the door.

"Hey... isn’t that Riku Virehard? The third-year?" one asked, eyes widening.

"What’s he doing here? This is the first-year class."

They kept their voices low, watching with curiosity and a hint of nervousness as Riku casually leaned against the wall, waiting for Edwin.

"Yo, Edwin," Riku called casually, pushing the door open without waiting for a response.

Edwin looked up, blinking in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Riku leaned against the wall with a relaxed grin. "I heard the professors are all gone today. Thought I’d drop by and challenge one of the rising stars."

Edwin raised a brow. "A challenge?"