I'm an Extra, so What?
Chapter 92 - 92: Fighter Selection Trial (6)

Arthur halted his movements, the rage in his body stilling for just a moment.

Slowly, he sheathed his rapier, the metallic sound of steel sliding into its scabbard echoing faintly through the silence.

He looked down at the broken figure before him—his childhood friend, the girl he'd once sworn to protect.

There was no pity in his eyes.

Only twisted love and obsession.

"I'm only doing this," Arthur said softly, "because I love you…"

Then, without hesitation, he raised his fist—and a heartbeat later, it crashed forward, slamming into Nike's jaw with a brutal force.

Her head jerked to the side, but she didn't scream.

She didn't cry.

She took the blow in silence.

Another punch followed.

Then another.

And another.

Again and again, Arthur's fists rained down upon her face, his knuckles growing slick with blood, his breaths growing louder with each impact.

Her face was a canvas of swelling bruises and open cuts, but through it all—

Nike refused to fall.

Refused to collapse.

She remained kneeling, back straight, barely holding on to the last shred of dignity she had left.

Arthur's eye twitched.

Clicking his tongue in growing frustration, he muttered, "Why…"

Punch.

"Won't…"

Punch.

"You…"

Punch.

"Just…"

Punch.

"Submit!"

Punch.

Each word was delivered with another savage blow, yet still—

Nike endured, gritting her teeth, blood dripping down her chin, her breath ragged.

Arthur was losing control.

To him, this wasn't just resistance—

It was betrayal.

Nike slowly raised her head.

Her eye was swollen, her lip split.

Her vision blurred.

But her spirit wasn't broken.

Not yet.

With defiant fire in her gaze, she spat—

Right into his face.

Blood and saliva struck Arthur's cheek and dripped down his chin.

Nike coughed, then rasped, voice hoarse but sharp, "Just… shut the fuck up. We're done."

That was it.

The final word.

She had severed their bond.

Right then and there—

Nike no longer saw someone who could be saved.

The boy from her past was gone.

In his place stood a monster.

And she was done trying to bring him back.

"…" Arthur stood frozen for a second.

His eye twitched again.

His lips curled into a sneer as he wiped the spit away slowly, bloodlust rising in his gaze.

"You don't get to decide that!" he bellowed, fury boiling over as he drew his fist back once more.

But before the blow could land—

WHOOSH!

A massive greatsword came hurtling through the air.

Arthur's eyes widened.

He instinctively jumped to the right, narrowly dodging the blade as it tore through the air where he'd just been standing.

The weapon passed just inches above Nike's head before slamming into the wall a little away with a resounding thud, the impact kicking up a cloud of dust and debris.

"What the—?!" Arthur growled, stepping back.

A new voice cut through the haze.

"Oh my~ You know it's incredibly rude to hit a girl?"

The words were laced with mockery and venom.

Standing not far away, her arms crossed and eyes narrowed with disdain, was Charlotte.

Arthur blinked. "Your Highness…?"

"You got it all wrong! You must understand," he said quickly, placing a hand to his chest and taking a step forward:

"I'm trying to help her! She doesn't know what's good for her. But I do! You understand me, right?"

Charlotte tilted her head, her expression twisted into one of utter disbelief.

"Are you off your meds?" she asked bluntly.

"What in the holy hell are you talking about?"

Arthur let out an exasperated breath and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"So even you don't understand?" His voice was laced with frustration, his earlier rage simmering under the surface.

"It seems I'll have to beat you into submission as well."

Charlotte raised an eyebrow and pointed at herself, a smug smirk curling at the corners of her lips.

"You? Beat me?"

She let out a soft giggle, the sound dripping with amusement.

But that mirth was short-lived.

Without warning, she closed the distance between them, stopping just a breath away from him.

Before Arthur could utter another word—

Charlotte's expression hardened, and her fingers curled into fists.

In that moment, she activated [Iron Fist Surge], and a surge of power coursed through her body.

Her hands felt like they had turned to pure, unyielding metal, and in that instant, she flung her fist forward, aiming straight for his face.

Arthur didn't have time to react.

The punch connected with his cheek with a sickening crack.

His head whipped to the side as he was sent stumbling backward, his body jerked violently, almost like a ragdoll being tossed aside.

Blood sprayed from his nose and mouth in a crimson arc, and he could feel the slight crunch of bones in his face.

"FUCK! That hurt like a bitch!" Arthur snarled, wiping the blood from his lips, his eyes blazing with renewed fury.

His breath was ragged, but his pride was bruised more than anything else.

"It seems I need to beat you harder than I did Nike!"

The air around him crackled with his growing power.

He activated [Lesser Strength Boost], the muscles in his body bulging as his physical strength surged.

Without wasting another second, Arthur dashed forward.

They collided in a flurry of motion—

Arthur throwing punches—

Charlotte blocking and parrying with fluid precision.

The sound of their fists meeting was sharp and brutal, echoing through the tense air.

For every punch Arthur landed—

Charlotte matched it with an equal or better counter.

Her movements were a blur, her expertise in hand-to-hand combat becoming increasingly evident.

"…" Arthur gritted his teeth, frustration rising as he found himself on the back foot.

She was faster.

More skilled.

Before Arthur could react—

Charlotte landed another hit—

A sharp right hook to his other cheek.

The force of it sent him reeling once more, the pain radiating through his skull.

His hand instinctively went to his face, holding it in a desperate attempt to stop the pain, but the damage was done.

"FUCK!" Arthur grunted, his legs unsteady as he stumbled back.

"It seems I can't go easy on you."

His grip tightened around his rapier, and a dangerous glint sparkled in his eyes.

He lifted the blade, holding it with both hands as he activated [Air Escape].

His form blurred, and in a flash, he vanished from sight, reappearing behind with his rapier raised, ready to strike.

But Charlotte merely sighed, a bored look crossing her face.

As Arthur materialized behind her, she spun on her heel with effortless grace, her fist flying backward in a precise arc.

Smack!

Charlotte's fist connected with his mouth with the force of a sledgehammer.

The impact sent Arthur flying backward, and he staggered, spitting out a mouthful of blood as he crashed to the ground.

"…" Charlotte shook her head with an indifferent expression, her posture relaxed as if she hadn't just delivered a crushing blow.

She casually waved her arms in the air to loosen up, her smile returning to its smug, playful edge.

"Do you really think you can beat me?" she asked, her voice tinged with mockery.

"I'm probably a higher level than you."

Arthur glared at her, wiping the blood from his lips and glaring daggers.

"It's impossible! I am the chosen one!"