The Extra is a Genius!?
Chapter 92: The Six Pillars

Chapter 92: Chapter 92: The Six Pillars

The wind howled through the broken arches of the forgotten cathedral.

Its once-sacred interior lay in decay—rows of shattered pews, vines creeping through the stone floor, and a collapsed ceiling that let moonlight pour in like a silent witness. The air smelled of mold and burnt incense, and the silence held weight, like something watching from beyond the veil.

In the center, shadows moved.

Figures sat scattered across what once had been rows of worshipers. All wore black robes, faces hidden beneath deep hoods. A crimson sigil, faintly glowing, was etched across each of their masks—different shapes, yet all sharing the same mark: the Eye of the Void.

From the balcony above, a smaller figure leaned casually against the stone railing. A massive scythe rested on her shoulder, its blade glinting in the pale light.

"So?" she called out, voice young but cutting. "The signal was clear. Are the others late again? I don’t like wasting time."

In the front row below, another robed figure let out a grunt. Short and wide, he looked more like a dwarf, though his broad frame radiated raw strength.

"We’re four. You already know who’s missing." His voice was gravel rough. "Those two clowns never take things seriously. If it were up to me, I’d beat some discipline into them."

"Hah." The girl with the scythe laughed softly, almost mockingly. "You? I doubt you’d even land a hit. Your talent’s in your mouth, not your muscles."

The dwarf-like man stood halfway up, scoffing. "Wanna test that theory, brat?"

Before she could answer, a loud creak echoed from the cathedral doors.

Two figures entered together, robes flowing, masks glinting. They were the same height, movements synchronized like dancers. One waved lazily.

"Apologies~ The road got... complicated," he said, a playful tone in his voice.

His twin added with a chuckle, "We had company. Took longer than expected, hehe."

A final voice spoke up from the shadows—soft, yet wrapped in clinking metal. Chains. The figure sat near the back, wrists and ankles wrapped in enchanted restraints that didn’t seem to hinder her presence.

"Now we’re complete," she said.

The scythe girl narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean? One’s still missing."

"No." The chained woman tilted her head. "He’s already here. He’s been watching us the whole time."

A chill ran through the space.

And somewhere, unseen, a smile was forming.

Steps echoed across broken stone.

From behind a fractured column, a tall figure emerged—hooded like the rest, though his gait was relaxed, even cheerful. He looked no older than twenty, posture straight, voice light and friendly.

"Well, well! Everyone’s here now. What a joy!"

He carried a glowing orb cradled in his hands, like a sacred relic. As he approached the altar at the center of the ruined cathedral, the orb pulsed—first dim, then brighter, until a soft hum vibrated through the space.

The others fell silent.

He gently placed the orb atop the altar. It hovered an inch above the surface, spinning slowly. Then, a voice—ancient, ethereal, and crackling like broken glass—emerged from the crystal.

"Children of the Void... One of our own has fallen."

The voice carried no emotion. It simply declared.

From above, the girl with the scythe scoffed.

"Knew it. Kaelith failed. Again."

Before her words could fade, a blur moved through the air.

The masked figure who had carried the orb was suddenly standing beside her. No one had seen him move.

His hand wrapped around her neck, lifting her with ease. In the other, a long, silver needle glinted near her temple.

"Shhh," he whispered, gently and with amusement. "Please don’t interrupt the master. It’s rude."

Her feet kicked slightly in the air.

Then he let go.

She fell, landing hard among scattered stone, coughing but unharmed. By the time her eyes refocused, he was already back at the altar, hands folded in front of him, head tilted in mock reverence.

The orb resumed speaking, unfazed.

"You shall remain six for now. Kaelith... proved disappointing, given the potential once seen in the Butcher. But setbacks are expected. You will grow stronger. The Day of Dusk approaches."

"When the Eye opens... all light shall fade."

The orb dimmed again, its glow withdrawing inward like a heartbeat slowing down. The voice fell silent.

The masked figure picked it up carefully, like a child hugging a toy.

He turned toward the others and smiled beneath his mask.

"Well, you heard him. Behave~"

And with that, he vanished into the dark, the orb clutched to his chest like a lullaby.

A heavy silence lingered after the departure of the orb bearer.

Only the wind filtered through the shattered arches of the cathedral, brushing against the crimson-marked hoods like passing whispers.

Then the woman with chains binding her arms and ankles spoke, her voice low but laced with authority.

"So... the great prodigy Kaelith is dead."

The girl with the scythe, still seated casually on a high beam, swung her legs as if nothing had happened.

"Who cares what happened to him?" she said flatly. "He botched the mission once, tried to fix it, and failed again. That means he wasn’t worthy in the first place."

A grumble came from the short, broad figure on the first row—his voice like boulders grinding together.

"You’re quick to talk for someone who never beat him in a duel. Let me remind you, Kaelith stood a step away from Ascendant rank. He would’ve crushed you if he had taken it seriously."

She rolled her eyes.

"Strength without a brain is just wasted potential. Look who’s still breathing and who’s a corpse, dwarf."

He rose halfway from the bench, fists clenching. "Say that again, brat."

Before either could move, the woman with chains chuckled.

"Enough. Your bickering is pathetic," she said, standing now at full height. Her presence was imposing—tall, statuesque, the chains around her humming faintly with sealed power. "Kaelith’s death was unexpected. But not unearned."

The scythe girl shrugged, muttering, "Whatever."

The dwarf sat back down, arms crossed but visibly annoyed.

She continued.

"He underestimated his prey. That’s all it takes."

For a moment, none spoke.

Then, the girl with the scythe stood. "Anyway, I’m bored. If we’re done crying over Kaelith’s ashes, I’ll be leaving."

Without a sound, her form blurred into nothing—disappearing into the void like smoke caught in wind.

The chained woman turned to leave next.

"It seems the Day of Dusk is coming sooner than expected... I’ll be ready."

She vanished down one of the broken aisles, chains scraping faintly across the stone before silence reclaimed the space.

Only the dwarf remained.

He sighed and stood, brushing dust from his cloak.

"Can’t leave my little empire unattended for too long. There’s gold to make."

He lumbered off with a laugh, disappearing into the shadows.

The two identical figures in the back—the twins—said nothing at all. They simply watched as each member faded away, one by one.

And then, like reflections on a still pond, they too were gone.

The cathedral stood empty once again.

Only the wind remained.