I'm an Extra, so What?
Chapter 113 - 113: The Annual Elf-Human Showdown (2)

A whisper of movement—barely noticeable.

Luka turned, his arrow flying before he even registered the flicker of silver.

It struck a tree branch, snapping it in half.

He frowned.

'A decoy.'

The real shot came from the opposite direction, a blur of white streaking toward him.

Luka dove to the ground, the arrow slicing the air just above his head.

He hit the dirt, rolled, and fired an arrow from his back.

It arced up into the canopy, and for a moment, nothing happened.

Then, a soft gasp.

[Two Hits Registered: Luka → Ardyn]

Luka stood, brushing off dust and dirt, unfazed.

He looked up toward the treeline.

"Two," he called out, voice carrying just enough for Ardyn to hear.

A laugh came from the shadows, bitter and sharp.

"You're good, human. Better than I thought."

Luka adjusted his grip, pulling back the string of his bow, his eyes scanning. "I've been told."

Silence fell between them, heavy.

Luka knew this next strike wouldn't come easy.

Ardyn wouldn't fall for the same tricks again.

Luka crouched low, moving quietly through the underbrush, his steps slow.

A glimmer of silver caught his eye—just for a fraction of a second.

But that was enough. He pivoted, drawing back his bowstring and letting the arrow fly.

There was a shimmer of magic—an attempt at a barrier spell—

Luka's arrow cut through it with sheer force, the red lines of enchantment pulsing as it cleaved through the elven magic.

A grunt of pain, followed by silence.

[Three Hits Registered: Luka → Ardyn]

The announcer's voice boomed through the stadium. "Victory to Luka of the Empire!"

The crowd booed.

Luka walked back to the center of the arena as the elf emerged from the shadows, clutching his shoulder with a grimace.

Ardyn gave him a nod of acknowledgment. "Well fought."

Luka returned the gesture, his face expressionless. "Same to you."

As he returned to his team, Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Didn't expect that."

Luka shrugged. "Maybe you should start."

Arthur sneered, but said nothing, turning his attention back to the Elf Princess.

The announcer's voice boomed across:

"The next bout will be a test of raw power and unyielding defense! Representing the Empire: Gregor the Iron Wall! Representing the Kingdom: Vaelor the Earthshaker!"

Luka glanced over at the tank, who was adjusting the massive tower shield strapped to his left arm.

A heavy mace hung at his side, its head spiked and gleaming.

"You ready for this?" Luka asked.

Gregor snorted, cracking his knuckles.

"Am I ready? I was born ready."

He gave his shield a firm tap; the sound reverberating with a solid clang.

"I've been waiting to knock some elf heads together for weeks now."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Just don't embarrass us. Their tank is no joke."

"Neither am I," Gregor replied, his grin widening.

He stepped forward, each step landing with the weight of a warhorse.

Luka turned his gaze to where the elven tank, Vaelor, was stepping into view.

He was a towering figure, even by elven standards, clad in emerald-green armor that shimmered with earthen runes.

His shield was enormous, made from living wood and reinforced with silver veins that glowed faintly.

A massive warhammer rested over his shoulder, its head crackling with dormant energy.

"Damn," Sylas muttered under his breath. "That guy's built like a fortress."

"More like a forest," Luka added, noting the way the armor seemed to sprout tiny leaves at its edges, pulsing with life.

He could almost feel the earth respond to the elf's steps, subtle vibrations rippling beneath the ground.

The announcer's voice thundered once more. "Tanks, take your positions!"

Gregor strode forward, planting his shield into the ground with a heavy thud.

His mace swung loosely at his side as he cracked his neck, eyes locked on his opponent.

Vaelor mirrored his movements, sliding his warhammer from his shoulder and gripping it tightly.

The ground shifted slightly beneath their feet as magical barriers were drawn up, sealing the two combatants within their own space.

Jagged rocks and patches of hardened earth jutted from the ground, creating a battlefield that looked as though it had been ripped straight from a mountain range.

Luka crossed his arms, eyes narrowed. "Think Gregor's got this?"

Arthur grunted. "If he doesn't, we're screwed. He's the only one sturdy enough to go head-to-head with someone like that."

Sylas chuckled nervously. "You're just hoping he doesn't get crushed."

Arthur shot him a glare. "I'm hoping he crushes that overgrown shrub."

The crowd roared—

The announcer raised his hand:

"Let the clash of Tanks…begin!"

The second the signal was given—

Vaelor slammed the head of his warhammer into the earth, and the entire field shook.

Great pillars of stone erupted from the ground, spiraling forward with the force of a charging beast.

Gregor braced his shield, slamming it down in front of him.

[Iron Wall] he roared, and a shimmering barrier of translucent energy coated the surface of his shield.

The stone pillars collided with a thunderous crash, shards of rock splintering in every direction—

But Gregor held firm, feet planted like roots in the earth.

"Not bad!" he shouted, voice carrying over the noise. "My turn!"

With surprising speed, Gregor barreled forward, his shield still raised.

His footsteps sent small tremors across the ground, his heavy boots crunching over shattered stone.

Vaelor watched calmly, raising his warhammer.

Gregor swung first, his mace coming down like a battering ram.

Vaelor parried with the shaft of his warhammer, sparks flying from the impact.

The elf retaliated instantly, bringing his weapon down in a sweeping arc that crashed against the human's shield.

The ground beneath Gregor's feet cratered slightly, but he didn't budge.

"Come on!"

Gregor bellowed, his voice thick with adrenaline.

"That all you got?"

Vaelor's expression remained serene, almost meditative.

"Not even close."

With a flick of his wrist, Vaelor's warhammer shimmered, and roots shot up from the ground, wrapping around the human's legs.

The roots coiled tightly, binding him in place.

[Nature's Grasp] Sylas murmured.

Gregor, however, just laughed.

"You think some twigs are gonna hold me?" He swung his mace downward, smashing through the enchanted roots with brutal efficiency.

Green light splintered and dissolved as he stomped forward.

Vaelor arched an eyebrow, seemingly impressed.

"Perhaps you are sturdier than I thought."

He stepped back, his warhammer glowing with earthen energy.

"Let's change that."

Vaelor raised his weapon high, and with a slam, sent a shockwave through the ground.

Great fissures spread outwards, the earth splitting and erupting with jagged shards of crystal and stone.

Gregor raised his shield, deflecting the first wave of shrapnel, but the ground beneath him cracked, threatening to collapse.

"Come on, you big idiot!" Arthur shouted from the sidelines. "Don't let him walk all over you!"

Gregor glanced back, grinning wildly. "I'm just getting warmed up!"

He slammed his mace into the ground, the weapon flaring with a red glow.

[Titan's Resolve]

His armor glowed crimson, and the cracks in the earth seemed to shift away from him, stones crumbling harmlessly against his frame.

He took a step forward, then another, momentum building with each stride.

Vaelor's eyes narrowed.

He readied his warhammer, bracing for impact.

Gregor didn't slow.

He crashed forward like a rolling avalanche, shield-first.

Vaelor swung his hammer down in a desperate attempt to halt the charge—

But Gregor intercepted with his shield, deflecting the blow with a thunderous crack.

The impact threw Vaelor back, his feet skidding across the broken ground.

He recovered quickly, digging his heel into the dirt—

But Gregor was already on him.

His mace came down in a savage arc—

Forcing Vaelor to deflect with the flat of his weapon.

The force sent vibrations up the elf's arms, his expression finally cracking with strain.

"Not so tough now, huh?" Gregor taunted, pressing his advantage.

"…" Vaelor said nothing,

He raised his warhammer high, saying something under his breath.

The ground began to rumble once more—

Arthur's eyes went wide.

"Hey, you dumb tank! He's saying a skill!" He shouted.

But Gregor just laughed.

"Let him!" He charged straight through the rumbling earth, swinging his shield like a battering ram.

The warhammer came down, shattering the earth into shards—

But Gregor didn't stop.

He barreled through the debris, his shield crashing against the elf's body with a resounding clang.

Vaelor staggered, dropping to one knee.

His warhammer fell from his hands, cracking the earth beneath him.

Gregor stood over him, mace raised.

"Yield," Gregor demanded, voice ironclad.

Vaelor, breathing heavily, looked up.

He hesitated, then nodded. "I yield."

The crowd booed even harder.

It was so one-sided…

The announcer's voice thundered, "Victory goes to Gregor the Iron Wall of the Empire!"

Gregor turned, tossing his mace over his shoulder and raising his shield high.

His grin was broad, almost childish.

"That's how you do it!"

Arthur smirked, clapping slowly. "Not bad, big guy."

Luka simply gave him a thumbs up.

Gregor swaggered back to the group, wiping sweat from his brow.

"That elf packed a punch, but you can't outmuscle the Iron Wall."

Arthur nodded, for once not offering a snide comment.

Luka just leaned back, eyes drifting across to where the Elf Princess watched, arms crossed and expression of annoyance.

Three victories for the humans.

The elves were bound to respond—

Luka had a feeling things were about to get a lot more intense.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.