Chapter 198 - The First Strike! - The Useless Extra Knows It All....But Does He? - NovelsTime

The Useless Extra Knows It All....But Does He?

Chapter 198 - The First Strike!

Author: WishToTransmigrate
updatedAt: 2025-09-21

CHAPTER 198: CHAPTER 198 - THE FIRST STRIKE!

The air in the desert was thick and heavy, as if the sun itself had decided to bear down harder on them after Luca’s words. Sand shifted beneath their boots, every crunch echoing louder than it should in the silence.

"It was definitely a corrupted beast," Luca said, his tone low but steady.

Everyone around him nodded grimly.

Eric broke the silence first, his brows furrowed. "What does this mean?"

Selena’s sharp voice cut in immediately, her eyes narrowing. "But how can cultists be here? And if they really are here... then why did the academy send us here without a single word?"

Her suspicion rang loud in everyone’s minds. Luca remained silent, his gaze sinking into thought. What are they planning?

Eric crossed his arms. "But we don’t know for sure that the cultists are here, right? Just one corrupted beast doesn’t prove anything."

Luca’s lips tightened. That’s possible as well... but wait— His eyes snapped to the Saintess.

"Are you still feeling that unpleasant feeling?" he asked sharply.

The Saintess pressed a hand to her chest, her face pale. "Yes... it’s even more unpleasant now."

"Big Bull, feeling bad," the towering boy rumbled again, his crude expression grim.

Luca’s gaze lingered on him for a moment. Even Big Bull? Just what is he...? He shook the thought away. Later. Right now, focus.

"There are too many things to consider," Luca finally said, his voice carrying the weight of his reasoning. "First—the academy changed the exam at the last minute, sending us all here. Second—the unpleasant feeling the Saintess keeps getting... and Big Bull as well. I’m not sure what Big Bull’s deal is, but for the Saintess, I believe it’s her divinity instinctively rejecting the corrupted mana seeping from this place. Third—this corrupted snake we just killed."

He paused, his hand tightening around his saber. "It all points towards only one thing..."

As he spoke, his eyes widened bit by bit, the realization clawing its way into his mind. He stole a glance at the Saintess. She, too, looked at him with dawning horror—the same thought flickering in her wide eyes.

Eric blinked, staring between them. "Hey, could you two not just stare at each other and tell us what’s going on?"

Luca exhaled sharply and shook his head. "I need to test something first."

Confusion flashed across the team’s faces, but they listened as Luca’s expression hardened. "Prepare for a battle. We’re entering the location."

The others hesitated but nodded, readying themselves.

"Eric," Luca said, turning toward him, "make it so that only I am visible."

Eric raised a brow. "You do remember my illusion ability isn’t all-encompassing, right?"

"I know," Luca said firmly. "But if there’s someone strong enough waiting for us, we’ll all have to fight anyway."

Eric studied him for a beat before nodding. "As long as you know."

"Good." Luca’s saber gleamed as he raised it, his eyes narrowing toward the depths of the desert ruin. "Let’s go."

And with that, they dashed forward together, the scorching desert winds whipping against their faces as they charged headlong toward the unknown.

The desert winds howled faintly, sending trails of dust swirling as Luca strode deeper inside. From afar, it looked as though only he moved through the dunes—Eric’s illusion cloaking the rest of the team in silence and shadow. The moment they crossed a jagged line of stone and sand, mocking voices split the air.

"JJIeJiJiJIiJIiJ!"

"Another fool is here... Jiejejejeje... we were told something else, but it doesn’t matter—the more the prey, the merrier."

Six hooded cultists stepped out from behind fractured rocks, their eyes glowing faintly with corrupted mana. Their twisted daggers and rusted blades gleamed under the dying sun, dripping faint traces of black mist.

Luca stopped, twin sabers flashing into his hands with a soft hum of mana. He set his stance low and steady, eyes cold. Eric twitched at his side, ready to dispel the illusion, but Luca flicked his hand sharply—a signal. His fingers spun, and the others nodded silently, moving like shadows to encircle the cultists from all sides.

The first cultist lunged forward with a jagged knife, shrieking with laughter. Luca moved in a blur.

Shhhk—

His saber cut clean through the attacker, dropping him in a single stroke. The others froze for the briefest second, their laughter cracking, turning into snarls.

"Kill him!"

They rushed in together, blades flashing with corrupted mana. Luca’s body twisted, his sabers ringing as steel clashed in rapid succession. Sparks danced in the air as he deflected two blades at once, spinning on his heel to parry another thrust. His left saber whipped across a throat; his right crashed down in a heavy arc, severing an arm and silencing another cultist’s scream.

The desert floor became a dance of death. Each time a cultist struck, Luca’s twin sabers were already there—meeting, diverting, and cutting down with merciless precision. His strikes were efficient, never wasted, his breathing calm even as black blood splattered across the sand.

One cultist tried to leap at him from behind, but Luca bent low, dragging his sabers in a cross-shaped slash that cut the man in half before he even touched the ground. Another came shrieking with dual blades, but Luca’s sabers caught both in a single clash, twisted hard, and sent the cultist stumbling forward—straight into a clean thrust through the chest.

Within seconds, the last of the six collapsed, their bodies twitching as the corruption faded into black dust.

Luca stood alone among them, his blades dripping darkness, his breath steady. The illusion still held—Eric and the others unseen.

His eyes narrowed. Is this it?

A shift in the air answered him. The ground rumbled faintly. From behind the dunes, more shadows emerged—dozens this time. Robes fluttering, eyes glowing, their manic laughter echoing as they spread in a ring.

Luca’s jaw tightened, his grip firm on his sabers. His thoughts raced. Just as I suspected... this isn’t random. This is planned. They knew we’d be here.

The circle closed, and with every step they took, the unpleasant pressure in the air thickened. Luca glanced once at the darkness behind their hoods, then at the horizon.

It’s exactly like I thought.

The dry desert wind cut across the battlefield, kicking up sand as Luca gave Eric the signal. A subtle dart of his eyes toward Selena, and Eric instantly understood. With a small nod, he dispelled the veil of illusion cloaking her presence.

In a shimmer of distorted air, Selena appeared beside Luca—her staff glinting with an eerie light.

The cultists froze for a moment, their twisted grins faltering.

"Wha—where the hell did she come from!?" one shouted.

"Another one? Hah! Doesn’t matter. One more corpse to bleed out!" another snarled, laughter twisting into a screeching "JiJijEiejiEjiE!"

Luca’s lips curled into a sharp smirk. Fools.

Without warning, he lunged forward, twin sabers flashing arcs of silver under the desert sun. One cultist barely raised his crude blade before Luca’s slash carved through him cleanly. Sparks and blood flew as another tried to strike from behind, only to be parried and impaled in the same motion.

Meanwhile, Selena’s wand pulsed with chilling light. She raised it high, her voice crisp and commanding—

"Frozen Bind!"

Ice burst from the ground, jagged pillars skewering two cultists as their screams were cut short. With her other hand, lightning surged, crackling into a sphere of unstable energy.

"Thunderclap!"

The bolt detonated, scattering sand and flesh alike as three more cultists were blown apart, their bodies twitching under the electric surge.

Luca danced between them like a phantom of steel, every motion seamless—slash, twist, deflect, cleave. Selena’s magic painted the battlefield with frost and storm, her spells exploding in perfect rhythm to his blades.

Together, they carved through the ambush like reapers of death.

But as the last cultist fell, silence didn’t follow. Instead, a faint rumble stirred beneath their feet. The dunes shook, and from beneath the sand, more shapes began crawling out—dozens, then scores, their laughter shrill and maddened.

"JIEjijIJIjiJijieeEEE!"

"More prey! More blood! More souls for the master!"

The desert seemed to vomit them out, a swarm of cultists flooding the battlefield from every direction.

Luca narrowed his eyes, sabers dripping blackened blood. Those bastards....they have indeed conquered the dungeon.

His voice cut through the chaos, commanding and sharp:

"Eric—bring out our secret weapon!"

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