Extra's Ascent-Chapter 183: Who’s The Real Monster Here

Their footsteps echoed through the dilapidated structures as they raced across the ruined cityscape. The closer they came to the heart of the chaos, the sharper the sounds became, high-pitched squeals tangled with the scuffle of struggle, fusing into a desperate, almost rhythmic cacophony.

"There! Over there!"

Joseph's voice rang out as he pointed ahead, slightly off to the right. His finger cut through the dusty air, guiding the group toward the source of the bedlam.

In that same breath, something hurtled toward them with breathtaking velocity!

"Xander!" Gerald shouted without hesitation, his voice a command through the tension. It was all Xander needed.

"On it, Cap," Xander acknowledged, stepping forward as a living wall. Arms outstretched, he braced for impact.

Whatever had been flung in their direction collided into him with a wet squelch.

"Ugh...? Captain, it's a person, a Human," Xander reported, blinking in mild disbelief.

Sure enough, a grown man lay slumped in his arms, unconscious. His muscular frame sagged, breath shallow, face slack. There was no mistaking it, he was a Human, and from the faint, flickering traces of residual energy clinging to him, a mystic at that.

"What the hell is a Human doing here?" Joseph exclaimed, confusion warping his features.

They were closing in on the town square where a Predator-class Walker had reportedly emerged. Logically, the entire vicinity should've been cleared. No civilians should be present in this danger zone.

"A mystic?" Joseph murmured under his breath.

"I believe so," Xander replied, eyes narrowing. "There's leftover mana clinging to him."

"Whether he's Human or mystic makes no difference," Gerald said, voice clipped. "Put him down gently. We move forward, now!"

The distant roar of the ongoing battle echoed louder than ever. They didn't have the luxury of time to tend to someone already unconscious, not when someone else might still be fighting for their life.

Xander obeyed, kneeling to lay the unconscious man with care beside a half-collapsed structure. As soon as he was done, he bolted after the others, quickly catching up with his squad where they had paused ahead.

And there it was just beyond them, a fight was already underway. A lone mystic was locked in a frantic struggle with a monstrous creature, an arachnid abomination with eight spindly legs, vicious forward pincers, and a cluster of glossy eyes offering a panoramic visual field. The beast's grotesque mass rivalled that of a city bus, its limbs twitching with barely-contained menace.

"A Greater Taratect Walker!" Xander bellowed, his eyes locking onto the creature with visceral recognition.

The mystic combating it fought with wild desperation. His footwork was erratic, his attacks driven by raw instinct rather than honed skill. There was no trace of strategy, just primal survival urging him forward.

"He's got solid survival instincts," Xander remarked, watching the chaos with an eyebrow raised. "But that's all he's got going for him."

"He won't last long if we don't step in," Gerald said, already surging forward.

Without delay, he charged headlong into the fray, with Xander and Joseph mere steps behind.

Eric, however, stood frozen. His mind churned, uncertain of his place in this unfolding chaos.

The Taratect's right pincer lunged, slicing through the air, aiming to ensnare the young mystic and reduce him to pulp. Yet the mystic's reflexes, heightened by an almost supernatural danger sense kicked in just in time. He twisted away, narrowly dodging the vice-like grasp.

But survival was fickle.

His foot landed on a stray pebble. A sharp jolt of pain shot up his leg as his ankle twisted. Off-balance, his body pitched sideways, exposing him entirely.

The Taratect didn't hesitate.

With terrifying precision, one of its longest, venom-laced limbs surged forward, its tip gleaming with deadly promise. One graze would mean paralysis or death. This was the end.

"No, you don't!"

The shout cracked through the moment.

Time seemed to slow. Just as the limb neared the mystic's eye, something caught it, certainly not hesitation or remorse. It was none other than force, pure brute force.

"What the… Crazy!"

Eric stood dumbfounded as the impossible unfolded before him.

Xander had appeared behind the beast in a blur, seizing one of its jointed legs and yanking it backwards with brute strength. The creature squealed in pain and outrage as it was ripped from its stance.

And then, like a scene out of a war epic, Xander hoisted the entire monster into the air and slammed it down with a devastating back body drop. The earth trembled as the creature's massive frame struck the ground, dust and debris erupting outward in a wave.

He didn't stop. freēwēbnovel.com

With a skyward leap, he clenched his fist, descending like a meteorite. His blow drove straight through the Taratect's abdomen, bursting it open from the inside. Guts and fluids exploded across the cobbled square.

The creature let out one final, soul-wrenching screech, then silence.

A sickening quiet.

Eric stared in utter disbelief.

A moment ago, the Taratect had been the nightmare, but now? Now, it was the man drenched in its blood who looked far more terrifying.

Xander stepped out of the carcass, viscera dripping from his arms and chest, his expression unfazed.

Who's the real monster here? Eric couldn't help but wonder. The Taratect had been a horror, no doubt, but Xander's raw physicality, his effortless destruction of the beast, it made the inhuman look pitiful by comparison.

"Damn... That was a nice workout," Xander said, wiping a streak of blood from his brow, his smile casual despite the carnage.

Eric's stomach churned. The sight and the stench were unbearable. He fought back the overwhelming urge to vomit, clenching his fists, refusing to show weakness in front of Gerald and Joseph who stood stoic and unmoved.

"Ugh, you're disgusting!" Joseph groaned, veering away before promptly bending over to empty his stomach onto the ground.

Eric's eyes widened. He just puked?!

All this time, he'd been forcing himself to endure, suppressing the nausea to avoid seeming soft. And yet, Joseph without hesitation, had done what he felt without fear of judgment.

That moment hit hard.

Eric realised just how much of an outsider he still was, always holding back, always calculating, always performing. He was playing along, trying to fit into a group that never asked him to pretend.

If I keep going like this… I'll never truly belong.

To find his place among them, he had to break free from the shackles of self-doubt. Not by mimicking them but by being unapologetically himself. That was the only way forward.