The Useless Extra Knows It All....But Does He? - Chapter 201

201: Chapter 201 – We Must Unite!!

201: Chapter 201 – We Must Unite!!

The air itself writhed, thick with corrupted mana that pulsed like festering wounds in the very fabric of the world.

Black and violet streams bled from cracks in the walls, twisting unnaturally, hissing like serpents hungry for life.

The ground was uneven, soaked with a miasma that seemed to breathe, its every exhale whispering curses into the silence.

At the far end of the vast chamber, a towering throne of jagged obsidian rose from the corrupted earth.

It pulsed faintly, alive with veins of dark energy.

A cloaked figure stood before it, its presence alone warping the space, shadows bending unnaturally around the folds of its robe.

The stillness shattered as a communication crystal in the figure’s hand glowed a faint crimson, carrying whispers from afar.

The figure listened, then let out a cold chuckle that reverberated through the chamber.

“Hmph… it looks like we still have some spies.” Its voice was deep, distorted, like a thousand whispers layered over one another.

A pause-then it replied into the crystal, each word cutting through the corrupted air.

“We are not afraid of anything!

How many students are there?

A hundred?

Two hundred?

Three hundred?” A low, bone-chilling laugh followed.

“I will send even more-five thousand of them-with five Spatial Expansion Stage experts.

Let us see who dares to stand in our path.” The air grew colder, frost creeping over the very ground despite the searing corruption that bled through the space.

Below the throne, shadows shifted-and suddenly the ground revealed itself as not stone, but a sea of kneeling cultists.

Their forms stretched endlessly into the darkness, countless heads bowed, their hollow voices murmuring praises that reverberated like a sinister hymn.

The cloaked figure raised a hand, corrupted energy spiraling around it like chains of black lightning.

“Hmph… leave!

Leave for all-out war!

There is no need to hide in these dungeons any longer-overwhelm them with sheer strength!” Its voice rose, resonant and dreadful, shaking the walls themselves as cracks spread outward.

Then, lowering its hooded head, it hissed chillingly, with a hatred that curdled the very mana in the air: “No matter what… the Saintess must die.” A howl erupted below.

The cultists, as if possessed, raised their heads to the corrupted heavens and shrieked in unison.

The sound was inhuman, a thousand cries melding into one unholy roar that shook the throne chamber itself.

The corrupted mana responded violently-the entire place trembled, walls bleeding violet light, air quivering under the weight of the gathering war.

The world itself seemed to shudder at the command.

**** The desert wind howled low, carrying with it the acrid scent of scorched sand and faint traces of corrupted mana that lingered in the air like invisible smoke.

The six of them stood in a rough circle, cloaks whipping, hair shifting under the restless gusts.

Each word seemed to vanish into the endless emptiness, yet the weight behind them pressed heavily on everyone’s shoulders.

Selena’s pale eyes narrowed, the icy sharpness in them cutting through the silence.

Her tone was colder than the wind itself.

“What do you mean by gather everyone?” Luca’s gaze swept across the dunes, his hand resting lightly on one of his sabers.

He let the silence hang for a heartbeat, then exhaled slowly, his lips curling into something between a grim smile and frustration.

“Just what I said.

Instead of being scattered in clusters like we are now, we need everyone united.

Do you really think the cultists are retreating out of fear?” His question cut through the air.

The Saintess’ expression hardened, her fingers tightening around her sleeves as if she already knew the answer.

Her voice was firm, unshaken.

“No.

They won’t.” Luca nodded, his eyes reflecting the harsh shimmer of the desert sun.

“Correct.

But their numbers are decreasing.

What does that mean?” He stepped forward, his boots crunching against the sand.

The others instinctively followed his movement with their eyes.

Luca’s tone sharpened, carrying urgency.

“It means they’re gathering themselves.

Consolidating.

Waiting.

We don’t know how many there are-but imagine this.

What if two hundred… three hundred cultists descend on a single team at once?” The air seemed to still, the desert wind losing its voice for a moment.

Tension crawled into every heartbeat.

Selena’s fingers flexed at her side, Eric clenched his fists, and even the Saintess’ usual calm wavered slightly.

Luca’s words fell like heavy stones.

“They’ll be annihilated.

We don’t even know what their true objective is.” The Saintess’ trembled ever so slightly before she steadied herself again.

She raised her chin, meeting his gaze.

“Then it’s better if we are united.

If we are all together.” Everyone nodded slowly, as if the weight of that truth pressed their heads down.

Eric broke the silence, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

His tone wavered between doubt and frustration.

“But… how are we going to gather everyone?

We can’t exactly run around and visit each team, right?

And sending messages through the communication crystals, one by one?

That’ll take forever!” Luca only sighed, almost amused at their short-sightedness.

He raised his arm, tapping the dark bracelet strapped around his wrist, its faint inscriptions catching the sunlight.

His smile was thin, sharp.

“Have you really not explored this?” The others exchanged glances, their confusion obvious.

Selena tilted her head, eyes narrowing again, waiting for an explanation.

Luca’s shoulders slumped for a moment as though he carried an invisible burden.

He exhaled, shaking his head.

“This bracelet has a communication channel built into it.

The range?

It covers the entire dungeon.

It was given for one purpose: if members are ever separated, they can still gather together.

We don’t need to run around-we just need to use it.” Selena blinked, her cold composure cracking just slightly.

“It had this function as well?” Luca nodded firmly, his gaze distant for a second as he thought.

Of course it does.

I checked everything before coming here-from this bracelet to the clothes they gave us.

There’s nothing I haven’t accounted for.

The Saintess tilted her head, concern flashing across her features.

“But… what about those who are outside the range?

Surely some are scattered further.” Luca’s lips curved into a faint smirk, the kind that carried certainty even amidst despair.

“That’s easy.

We send a single message-and ask everyone to rebroadcast it from their location.

A chain reaction.

The signal will spread further than any of us could reach alone.” For a moment, silence.

Then realization dawned on each of them like the sun breaking over the horizon.

Eric’s eyes widened, his mouth slightly agape before he barked out a short, incredulous laugh.

“You’ve really… thought of everything, haven’t you?” Luca didn’t answer right away.

His expression darkened instead, sharp lines etching into his face as his hand brushed over the bracelet.

His thoughts were heavy, bitter.

Five years of my life in this game… did you really think I wasted them?

Finally, he raised his head, voice steady with command.

“I’ll broadcast the message.

Tell everyone to gather at our location.

No more splitting up.

From now on, we move as one.” The others nodded-this time without hesitation.

The desert wind picked up again, swirling around them like a restless omen.

Luca lifted his wrist slowly, the silver band of the academy-issued bracelet glinting faintly under the dying desert sun.

The sands still swirled with the aftermath of corrupted mana, but now all eyes were on him.

A faint hum resonated from the bracelet as he poured his aura into it.

The gemstone embedded at its center pulsed, first dimly, then brighter, until threads of light spread outward in concentric waves.

The air trembled.

Luca inhaled deeply, his gaze sweeping across his companions before fixing on the endless dunes.

His voice, calm but firm, resonated through the device, magnified and carried on an ethereal current that swept across the desert like a tide.

“This is Luca Von Valentine, speaking to all academy students.

If you can hear my voice, listen well.” The words rolled with a clarity that pierced the desolate winds, reaching far and wide.

Even those kilometers away, fighting or hiding, would feel the vibration against their wrists and hear him as if he stood beside them.

“The cultists are not retreating.

They are regrouping.

Their numbers are decreasing because they are gathering… and when they strike again, they won’t come in tens.

They will come in hundreds.

If we remain scattered, we will be crushed.

One team, no matter how strong, cannot survive being swarmed.” The tone sharpened, urgent yet unwavering, his voice carrying weight that refused to be ignored.

“That is why I ask you all-no, I urge you-to come together.

We must unite.

We fight not as separate squads, but as one academy.

That is the only way we stand a chance.” He paused, allowing the echo of his words to linger in the air.

The wind carried his conviction, stronger than the dry grit of the desert sands.

“Some of you may not know me, but I am one of you.

A student, standing here with the Saintess herself, with those who fight by your side in this trial.

I swear to you-we will not let anyone fall needlessly.

But for that, we must gather.

For strength.

For survival.

For victory.” As he thought, for belief and trust what better candidate than Saintess herself.

The bracelet pulsed again, sending a second wave across the dunes, reinforcing the call.

Luca’s voice lowered slightly, but his words struck deeper, with a personal edge.

“You’ve all trained, fought, and bled to reach this place.

Do not let the cultists divide us.

Do not let them dictate how we fall.

Stand with me.

Stand with us.

Together, we can crush their numbers.

Together, we will find out what their true goal is-and end it here.” The final words thundered, chilling and resolute: “If you can hear me, then come.

To the Saintess’s light.

To our beacon.

To this point in the desert.

We will fight as one.” CREATORS’ THOUGHTS WishToTransmigrate Woaaahhhh, MC really feels like a MC now right?

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