Chronicles of Forgotten Extra
Chapter 212 - 212: Old Pal... Tortoise?

Alden didn't feel the ground shift.

Didn't hear it crack.

Didn't even notice the darkness leaking out from the centre of the dungeon.

But the system did.

And it spoke.

Right in front of him, a series of prompts popped up.

[Something Unknown Has Interfered]

Alden blinked once.

[The Seal Has Been Partially Broken]

What seal?

What the hell was it even talking about?

[Suppression Is Being Removed Slightly]

His gaze sharpened.

That line wasn't normal.

Suppression? What suppression?

[Rank Is Being Recalibrated]

[Rank Is Based at Beginner Adept Rank]

A breath caught in his throat.

Fucking hell?

What you mean by rank is being based at Adept Rank.

"…You've got to be kidding me."

The corpses nearby suddenly looked less like trophies and more like warnings.

Beginner Adept Rank.

That was two minor ranks above what he currently operated at—on paper.

Whatever was coming next would be optimised for a monster that could crush someone of his rank like an ant.

Alden was stronger than any normal person.

Still, that didn't make it okay.

Which meant the dungeon's adaptive system, already infamous for its cruelty, had just become sadistic.

Did I trigger this? Or…

Something else interfered.

Whatever the case is, I can't relax.

His eyes narrowed as he turned in slowly, scanning the dense mist between the trees.

The air felt different now.

Not cold. Not hot.

Just… watching.

This wasn't just a difficulty spike.

It was a declaration.

…This dungeon's rules are changing.

I need to move.

He moved cautiously, keeping his footsteps light and his eyes scanning every branch and shadow.

Each breath he took felt measured, as if the very air now wanted to know what he planned to do with it.

And then—he heard it.

A sound.

A low rumble.

No—it was closer to a drag.

As if something large and unhurried was moving its mass across the damp forest floor.

A few steps ahead, near a clearing within the dense forest, something emerged.

A shell. Or more accurately, a fortress.

It appeared in his view like an ancient god being disturbed mid-slumber.

A massive tortoise, at least twice the size of a carriage, moved forward.

Huh?

Alden recognised this monster.

How could he not?

It was the same species as his old pal—the one he had defeated in his awakening trial.

Its green shell is eerily similar to that bastard's. It had many jagged black spikes covering it.

Heat radiated from the shell.

At its centre, glowing orange lines pulsed like veins full of lava.

It was similar to the one he fought in the awakening trial, yet different.

This was at Adept Rank.

It looked like an evolved version of the ruler tortoise back in his Awakening Trial.

Alden's eyes narrowed. "Great. A living tank."

The tortoise paused, its beady eyes narrowing as if sensing Alden's mana signature.

Without warning, it turned its shell toward him—not to run, but to aim.

Oh, come on—

Not again.

Alden felt a nostalgia from the attack.

BOOM.

Three spikes launched from its back like ballista bolts.

Alden moved on instinct, diving to the side as one impaled a tree behind him, splitting it like butter.

Bark exploded.

Shards flew through the air.

He rolled, pivoted, and sprinted diagonally to avoid the follow-up spikes.

The second spike struck the ground with a crack.

The third barely grazed his shoulder—ripping cloth, not flesh.

He activated [Shadow Steps], teleporting behind a thick tree.

"So you're not just a wall," Alden muttered from behind the tree. "You're a porcupine with an attitude."

Fucking tortoise.

The tortoise let out a deep, grinding sound.

Steam vented from vents between its plates.

Then it charged.

Alden's thoughts raced.

He recalled all the details he knew from before.

Its defence is too high for normal cuts.

Spikes are ranged.

Slow movement—bad in close quarters, but the shell's angle deflects frontal blows.

Its weak point was at its neck.

The only gap in its shell.

He dashed to the left as the tortoise slammed into the tree he'd hidden behind, uprooting it.

Dirt exploded upward.

Alden activated [Spirit Domain]; his senses expanded.

The massive beast rotated its body, preparing another spike shot.

Alden didn't give it the chance.

He moved forward.

His sword gleamed faintly.

The tortoise fired again.

This time, Alden jumped up mid-run, twisting his body sideways.

One spike flew past his ribs.

Another clipped his shin, drawing blood, but not deep.

Pain sparked, but Alden didn't flinch.

He used the momentum to roll beneath the beast's neck—briefly, just briefly.

And he struck.

[First Step—Ruinous Severance]

A flash of steel.

Not chaotic. Not explosive.

Just sharp and precise destruction—channelled along the blade's edge.

He sliced at the neck.

The effect was immediate.

Fuck, it's too shallow.

The beast let out a low sound.

Its front leg buckled slightly.

But the spike cannons on its shell twitched, locking on again.

"You're still kicking?" Alden muttered, retreating fast.

The tortoise launched another volley.

This time, four spikes.

The monster wasn't just firing blindly—it was adapting.

Its spikes were too fast.

Alden ducked, jumped, and moved through the assault, taking a minor hit on his forearm.

Blood flowed from his injury, but it didn't slow him.

He exhaled, tasting iron and focus.

Time to end it.

He darted to the side—left, then right—then back again, weaving a chaotic pattern.

He was using his footwork [Dance of Chaos], flickering chaotically.

The tortoise adjusted, trying to track him.

Wrong move.

Alden closed the distance using [Shadow Steps].

He appeared beneath its neck once more.

[Second Step—Ruination Arc.]

He whispered.

A soft crescent of his mana surged from his blade.

This wasn't like the first strike.

This was a surgical arc—measured and slow-burning.

The moment it made contact—

Chrrrrrrk…

The tortoise spasmed violently.

Its limbs kicked out, unintentionally throwing Alden backward.

He rolled and regained balance.

The beast's body stilled.

And then it collapsed.

No dramatic explosion.

Just a heavy, inevitable fall.

One last breath.

Alden walked up. His eyes calm, he tapped the body with his boot.

Overgrown soup ingredient.

A core appeared out of its overgrown body.

Alden threw the core in his storage ring without even looking.

He had won.

But it wasn't time to relax just yet.

That tension in his shoulders hadn't faded.

The fight was over, but the unease was still there.

He glanced around.

The trees rustled faintly, but there was no wind.

The fog had grown thinner.

He tapped the ring on his finger, pulling out a healing potion and a mana vial.

He gulped them down without hesitation.

His wounds began to heal.

His mana—partially drained from the double-step usage—began to rise.

Not enough.

Not fast enough.

But it would do.

He turned to scan the path ahead.

Just then—

Fssssssht.

An arrow. It came without sound. Without warning.

Alden didn't dodge.

He didn't need to.

The arrow lodged itself into the bark of a tree just an inch from his cheek.

Close enough to bleed if he had flinched.

Close enough to understand it wasn't a monster's shot.

That was no mistake.

Alden's lips twitched into a faint smirk.

He didn't move. Not right away.

Instead, he stared at the arrow.

The arrow was sleek black and looked very modern.

The arrowhead was forged with an alien metal.

It didn't seem to be poisoned.

Not like it would have affected Alden either way.

His gaze scanned through the fog.

His fingers twitched near the hilt of his sword.

How are there other people here?

Did someone enter the dungeon after me?

Or was someone already present when I entered?

He understood.

The shot wasn't aimed to kill.

It had been a test.

A probe.

Whoever fired it wasn't trying to win.

They were trying to measure.

And Alden hated being measured.

The dungeon wasn't still.

He could feel it.

Observers.

Alden let out a slow breath and turned fully toward the direction of the shot.

No more monsters for now.

Just people.

Which, in his experience, could be worse than any monsters.

Just then—

The mist parted.

And five figures appeared.

Humanoid, young and armed.

At first glance they looked somewhere in their early twenties.

One of them—a girl with bright red hair—lowered her bow slowly.

"Oh my god—I'm so sorry." She shouted. "We thought you were a monster! Are you okay?"

Alden didn't respond immediately.

His gaze flicked to the others.

Two more girls.

Two boys.

They were all dressed in similar gear.

Uniforms he didn't recognise.

They are not from Eryndor.

Alden understood at first glance.

It wasn't difficult.

The language was different.

The reason why he could still understand it was because of the system.

Although the system couldn't translate any written languages, it translated communication language across different worlds.

He had learnt about it the first time he was teleported to another world.

He wasn't stupid enough to think all worlds spoke the same language.

Anyone else wouldn't have noticed the difference, but Alden, with his expanded senses, noticed it immediately.

The slight delay in lip movement.

He shrugged off his discovery about their origin for now.

He needed to know if they were just passing by or were they hostile.

And more importantly, how did they enter this dungeon?

He scanned their faces. They were filled with expressions of concern.

Fake concern.

He could tell.

They were trying too hard.

Not yet.

He didn't expose them immediately.

Instead, he tilted his head.

And smiled slightly.

"Don't worry," he said calmly, voice as smooth as silk. "Happens all the time."

Let's see how much they're willing to say… before they try to kill me.