The Useless Extra Knows It All....But Does He? - Chapter 200

200: Chapter 200 – Both Sides Moving!!

200: Chapter 200 – Both Sides Moving!!

The desert wind howled, kicking up sheets of sand that bit at exposed skin.

The air itself shimmered with heat, and the cultists’ chants seemed to echo unnaturally through the dunes as they closed in around Aiden’s team of five.

“Fifty of them,” Aiden muttered, eyes narrowing as his grip tightened on the hilt of his glowing sword.

The blade thrummed with power, veins of radiant light tracing its length like molten fire.

“Perfect.” With a surge of movement, he charged.

The sword carved arcs of brilliance through the sandstorm, every swing cleaving through cultist flesh and darkened armor as if they were paper.

Each cut sent flashes of light dancing across the battlefield, burning away shadows as screams rang out.

Kyle was right behind him, his blue spear flashing like a streak of lightning.

He thrust it forward, the air around its tip spiraling with condensed force.

Every jab crushed through armor, skewering two cultists at once before releasing bursts of energy that knocked down those nearby.

“Don’t fall behind me, Aiden!” Kyle barked, grinning fiercely as he spun the spear in a wide circle, sending three men flying in broken heaps.

Aiden smirked.

“Then keep up.” Meanwhile, Lilliane’s voice rose above the chaos, steady yet sharp.

Standing slightly behind them, she spread her arms as if conducting a storm.

Elemental magic whirled around her-flames seared across the sand, wind blades sliced through necks, jagged rocks erupted beneath cultist feet, and streaks of lightning burst down from the sky, frying their targets instantly.

Cultists screamed in terror.

“A-All elements?!

Impossible!” But her focus never wavered.

Every incantation was clean, controlled, and deadly.

Her face was pale, sweat dripping down her temple, but her eyes burned with fierce determination.

Within minutes, half the cultists lay dead, their bodies scattered across the crimson-stained dunes.

The remaining survivors tried to rally, only to be driven back again and again.

Finally, the last cultist fell to Aiden’s blade, cleaved in two.

Silence fell, broken only by heavy breathing.

Kyle planted his spear into the sand and threw his head back with a laugh.

“Hah!

That’s what I’m talking about!

Didn’t stand a chance against us!” Aiden only sheathed his sword, wiping sweat from his brow as his gaze swept the horizon, searching for movement as he said, “It’s only because this time we were prepared!” Elsewhere in the desert, another team of five clashed against their own wave of cultists.

The sand ran red as their swords and spells tore through the enemy ranks.

The fight was bloody, but after a long struggle the group stood victorious, their cheers echoing against the empty sky.

Farther away, another clash played out.

Five exhausted warriors stood amidst dozens of slain cultists, their armor dented, their breaths ragged.

They raised their weapons high in triumph, shouting with relief.

And then, still deeper into the dunes, yet another team battled-this time against a smaller group, no more than twelve cultists.

The enemies fought desperately, but they were cut down swiftly, their blood soaking into the sand.

When the last fell, one of the young mages laughed breathlessly, collapsing to her knees.

“We… we did it.” Her comrades cheered with her, the sound almost forced in its relief.

*** The underground chamber hummed with the faint glow of dozens of crystal screens, each one reflecting the desert battlefield above.

Instructors leaned forward, eyes sharp, following the progress of their students with bated breath.

Cheers suddenly broke out as one screen showed another group cutting down the last of their cultist enemies.

“Hahahahahaha!” An instructor clapped his hands together, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

“At least ten teams have already crushed the cultist nodes!

Our students are truly remarkable-this generation is indeed golden!” His proud grin spread wide as he gestured to the others, almost boasting.

“Yes, yes,” another chimed in, nodding eagerly.

“Not only have they adapted, but they’ve shown unity and discipline far beyond expectations.

It’s no wonder we’ve all been calling this the most promising year.” A few others murmured in agreement, their eyes glinting with satisfaction.

The once-tense chamber was now filled with warmth, pride, and even relief.

But that atmosphere cracked when Seraphina, who had been watching in silence until then, spoke.

Her voice was cool, yet it carried a weight that cut through their celebration like a blade.

“But…” she tilted her head, violet eyes narrowing on the crystal screens, “…why are the numbers decreasing at each node?” The laughter died instantly.

A heavy silence descended, broken only by the faint hum of the crystals.

Several instructors exchanged wary glances, their earlier cheer evaporating.

“The numbers… decreasing?” one muttered, almost to himself, his fingers drumming nervously on the table.

Before the unease could settle further, the vice dean crossed his arms, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room.

His tone was harsh, but steady-like a teacher scolding frightened children.

“Hmph.

What else did you expect?” His voice reverberated, firm and commanding.

“The cultists were prepared to face two or three teams at most.

But we sent in all our students instead.

Do you think they wouldn’t notice something is amiss?” The instructors stiffened at his words, murmurs rising like ripples in water.

“You mean…” one instructor hesitated, his brow furrowed deeply.

“You mean the cultists have already realized?” “Of course,” the vice dean snapped, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“They aren’t fools.

They must be preparing something else, something far beyond those scattered nodes.” The murmurs grew louder, spreading anxiety around the room.

“Then… isn’t it dangerous for our students?” another asked, voice tight with concern.

His fists clenched at his side as he stared at the screens.

The vice dean let out a sharp exhale, his eyes flashing.

“If the situation is changing, then our students must change with it.

This is a battlefield, not a classroom.

They must adapt-or die.” His words landed like hammers, cold and unyielding.

Then, with a grim finality, he added, “Besides, from the moment this exam changed… it was never a team exam at all.” Heads turned sharply toward him, confusion flashing in every pair of eyes.

“Not a team exam?” one instructor repeated, blinking in disbelief.

“What does that mean?” another asked, brows knitting together.

The room buzzed with unanswered questions.

The instructors exchanged puzzled, worried looks, but the vice dean’s gaze snapped forward, his voice thunderous.

“Focus!!” The command echoed through the chamber, silencing them all instantly.

*** The desert winds howled across the dunes, carrying the acrid tang of blood.

Luca’s blades shimmered faintly under the sun as he tore through the last cultist, its body collapsing into the sand with a muffled thud.

Eric followed up with a precise strike, his sword cleaving clean through a robed figure’s chest.

Selena’s ice spikes rained down in the distance, shattering the ground and pinning several enemies before they could even scream.  Silence.

But unlike the other groups who had erupted into cheers, there was no celebration here.

Their breaths were ragged, their weapons lowered but hands still tight with unease.

“They are getting less and less,” Luca muttered, his voice low, his sabers dripping blood into the thirsty sand.

His crimson eyes narrowed at the scattered corpses that seemed pitiful compared to the waves they had fought earlier.

The Saintess glanced at him, unease flickering across her divine composure.

“…This means…” “They must be gathering together,” Luca finished coldly, his gaze locked on the horizon.

The weight of his words pressed heavily against the group.

Eric’s grin faltered, shoulders stiffening as he realized the implication.

Selena’s lips thinned into a sharp line, her hands curling slightly as if readying another spell.

“So now what can we do?” Selena asked at last, her tone cutting through the tense air.

Luca slowly lifted his head, his eyes sweeping across each of them-Eric’s restless grin, Selena’s icy calm, the Saintess’s troubled serenity.

His own expression hardened with grim determination.

“This can’t be done in teams.” He let the words hang, heavy and absolute, before continuing, his voice carrying like steel over the desert wind.

“We… need to gather everyone else as well.

Every first-year present here.” The desert seemed to fall still around them, the weight of his resolve seeping into the very air.

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