The Useless Extra Knows It All....But Does He? - Chapter 202

202: Chapter 202 – A New Era!

A New Generation!

202: Chapter 202 – A New Era!

A New Generation!

The desert wind howled, carrying with it the sting of fine grains that scraped across skin and armor alike.

The air shimmered with heat, dunes rolling endlessly into the horizon under the pale, merciless sun.

Yet amid that oppressive stillness, every single student suddenly paused.

On their wrists, the faint glow of their bracelets flickered to life-soft, pulsing like the beat of a heart.

Then, across the expanse, a voice rose, resonant and commanding, carried not by wind but by mana, echoing inside their very beings.

His words lingered in the desert air long after they ended, echoing in the silence of countless hearts.

One group of exhausted students sat huddled in the shadow of a sandstone ridge, their faces pale with despair.

Their clothes were torn, and two of their comrades lay unconscious at their feet.

A boy with trembling hands whispered, “We won’t make it… we can’t…” Yet when Luca’s message reverberated through their minds, they looked at one another with newfound hope.

A girl, clutching her spear tight, breathed out, “We’re not alone anymore.” And for the first time since they had entered this cursed place, the spark of determination returned to their eyes.

Elsewhere, a jubilant team cheered over the corpses of cultists they had just defeated, still drunk on their small victory.

“Ha!

Did you hear that?

Together we survive?

We just survived without anyone’s help!” one boy laughed.

But his laughter faltered as Luca’s words replayed, about hundreds of enemies descending on a single team.

Their captain exhaled slowly, his grin fading.

“…If he’s right, then this was nothing.

Just a taste.

If hundreds come, we’ll be crushed.

And if Luca Valentine, the strongest among us , is asking to be united..” Silence replaced their celebration as the truth weighed on them, heavier than the sun’s heat.

Another group wandered aimlessly, lost in the shifting dunes, their supplies dwindling.

They had been moving without purpose, their morale shattered.

When the message came, half their faces lit with relief-finally, direction!

But a few hesitated.

“What if it’s a trap?

What if these bracelets were given to lure us in, just to wipe us out?” one muttered darkly.

Another shook his head, gripping the glowing band.

“No… if the Saintess trusts him, then I will too.” That single word-Saintess-tilted the scales.

Their faith in her bled into faith in Luca, binding them to his call.

But not everyone was swayed.

On the far side of the dunes, a hardened team gathered in formation, their leader scoffing as the voice faded.

“A united front?

Hah.

This is still a competition.

The stronger the team, the better the chance of being recognized.

Why should we throw away our edge for the sake of others?” Their members nodded reluctantly, clinging to ambition.

Yet as they turned to leave, they were intercepted.

Sand shifted as Aiden’s team emerged-Aiden at the front, his expression stern beneath the blazing sun.

His blade gleamed faintly, still carrying the traces of battle.

“You really think this is a game?” he asked coldly.

The rival leader sneered.

“It is.

Isn’t that the point?” Aiden stepped forward, his voice hard, cutting through the desert air.

“No.

This is survival.

If you cling to your pride, your team won’t last the next wave.

Do you understand what happens if we remain divided?

Cultists will crush the weak teams first, then turn their numbers against the rest.

Every death makes them stronger-while every loss makes us weaker.

You think you’ll stand above the rest when it’s over?

You won’t.

You’ll just be corpses under the sand.” His words struck like iron.

The silence that followed was tense, broken only by the shifting hiss of the desert wind.

Finally, one of the rival team’s members lowered his weapon, his voice uncertain.

“…If the Saintess and you are moving, then… perhaps we should as well.” The leader scowled, but his hesitation betrayed him.

Aiden’s glare bore down on him until, grudgingly, he nodded.

“…Fine.

We march.” And so the desert began to shift.

One by one, groups started moving.

First in tens, then dozens.

The horizon shimmered as shapes appeared, sand trailing behind them like banners.

Students who had been scattered like grains were beginning to converge, drawn by a single voice, a single will.

Hundreds of footsteps pounded against the scorching sands, all moving toward one point.

Toward Luca.

And for the first time since entering the desert dungeon, the chaos began to find order.

**** For a long while, the chamber had been filled with only murmurs and the faint hum of mana circuits.

But now, as the bracelets pulsed in unison across hundreds of wrists in the desert, the atmosphere shifted.

A silver-haired instructor leaned back, a faint smile finally tugging at his lips.

“Finally,” he murmured, his voice low but filled with relief.

“They understood.

And we did too.” The words seemed to ripple through the chamber like a soft wave.

Several nodded in agreement, expressions loosening from tense scrutiny to quiet approval.

Even the dean, who had sat with his hands folded and expression cold as stone since the trial began, allowed a flicker of warmth to cross his features.

His sharp gaze softened, and the corners of his mouth curved upward in the faintest, but unmistakable, smile.

Seraphina stood near the front, her hands folded elegantly behind her back, her eyes never leaving the projection where Luca’s figure still lingered like a beacon in the desert.

A glint of pride lit her violet eyes as she finally spoke.

“Student Luca truly has leadership qualities.

From the beginning until now, he has remained calm-rather than chasing a personal victory, he saw the greater picture.

And more than that-he found the answer that could gather everyone together.” Her lips curved into a rare, genuine smile.

“It’s simply brilliant.” A loud laugh broke the solemn quiet.

The knight instructor, Halreth, clapped his hands together, his broad chest shaking with mirth.

“That’s right!” he agreed heartily, though his voice carried a note of nostalgia as he exhaled heavily.

“That boy has grown so much.

Hah, I still remember how lost and awkward he was during the entrance ceremony… and even during the class assignment interviews.” Seraphina chuckled softly, her expression tinged with pride as she tilted her chin ever so slightly.

“Well, it was my great decision to place him in Class A,” she said with playful arrogance.

Her remark drew laughter from the other instructors, the heavy atmosphere lightening for a brief, precious moment.

The vice dean, a man with a voice like gravel, cleared his throat with a small smile.

“We should not forget the others, either.

Even those in despair found the courage to stand again.

The stronger teams chose to set aside pride and embrace unity.

This trial…” He paused, his gaze sweeping across the crystal screens.

“All of them are worthy of our praise.” Nods and murmurs of agreement followed, the chamber for once filled with warmth instead of solemnity.

But that warmth shattered in an instant.

The heavy iron-bound doors of the chamber burst open, slamming against the wall with a hollow clang.

A man stumbled in, his cloak half askew, his face drenched in sweat.

He was panting heavily, each breath ragged as though he had sprinted all the way from the surface.

“R-Report!” he gasped, clutching his chest.

“T-There is n-news… from the devil cult…” The instructors froze, their smiles vanishing as though they had never been.

The chamber fell into an icy silence.

The crystals continued to flicker with desert images, but no one looked at them anymore.

All eyes turned toward the messenger, hearts heavy with the foreboding weight of what his words might bring.

*** The desert stretched silent and endless, painted in hues of ash and gold by the sinking sun.

Luca stood still at the center of the wasteland, the faint glow of his bracelet pulsing against his wrist.

Around him, his teammates waited, their breaths shallow, their eyes heavy with fatigue and expectation.

Eric finally broke the silence, his voice low but edged with unease.

“Will people come…?” The question hung in the air like a prayer.

Luca didn’t answer.

His gaze was locked far beyond the horizon, his expression calm but his heart tight as a bowstring.

Inside, one thought echoed like a vow: They will come.

They have to.

If they don’t… then everything ends here.

The silence pressed heavier-until the Saintess suddenly gasped, her voice trembling with something between disbelief and wonder.

“L-look… there-!” Every head turned.

At first, there was only dust.

A faint disturbance in the still air, like a mirage.

But then, one silhouette appeared.

Then another.

And another.

And then the horizon itself seemed to move.

And there-through the haze of dust and heat-shadows began to take shape.

One after another, figures appeared.

Dozens, then hundreds.

Some limped, their robes torn and bloodied, yet their eyes still burned with resolve.

Others carried their wounded comrades, refusing to abandon them.

A few walked tall, weapons gleaming proudly, fresh from their hard-earned victories.

It was a tide of determination, flowing toward a single point.

Toward them.

It was not an army of soldiers.

It was something greater.

It was the will of Arcadia’s next generation, burning against despair.

The ground quivered beneath their united march, the air vibrating with the rhythm of countless footsteps converging on one point-on Luca.

And leading them all was a figure that shone brighter than the rest.

A boy of golden hair, his blade gleaming like a shard of dawn.

Excalibur blazed in his grip, every reflection of its edge splitting through the desert dusk like a promise carved in steel.

His stride was steady, unyielding, the kind of step that made the world itself seem to follow.

Luca’s chest tightened as he watched the tide of students surge toward him.

Not as scattered fragments.

Not as rivals.

But as one.

The horizon was alive now, filled with fire, dust, and light-an image that would etch itself into memory, as if declaring to heaven and earth alike: The New era has begun.

CREATORS’ THOUGHTS WishToTransmigrate Ahh!

We are just missing a great bgm here!