The Extra Who Shouldn't Exist novel Chapter 212

Chapter 212: Chapter 212: Greatest Creations(1)

Alex’s body reformed with a violent flash of light, and the next instant, he crashed onto solid ground. His knees buckled, and he staggered, clutching his chest.

"Hah... hah... what the hell was that? For a second, I thought I’d lose my mind. Was that really just teleportation!?"

He gasped for air before forcing himself to look up. His breath caught in his throat.

Before him shimmered a massive gateway, its archway woven from molten gold and obsidian steel, radiating a pulse that wasn’t just seen but felt in his very bones.

The system’s voice echoed in his head.

`[Host, it looks like the sanctuary of a god. I can sense divinity saturating every grain of air here.]`

Alex grinned despite his ragged breathing, then looked toward the door. ’Yeah, no kidding. This place is insane! By the way... that gateway looks so freaking cool!’

`[You’re acting like a child, Host.]`

Alex stuck out his tongue like a brat. "Bleghhh, what do you know about the heart of a hardcore gamer who’s only ever seen places like this on a screen?"

`[Fine, fine. No need to sulk. Just focus on why we’re here.]`

A vein popped on Alex’s forehead. He groaned, took one last deep breath, and stepped through the gateway.

---

The instant his foot crossed, the world shifted.

The air thickened, gravity itself dragging harder on his body, as though the realm demanded strength from intruders.

Then came the heat—scorching, suffocating—carrying with it the scent of molten iron, charred stone, and raw divine power.

Above him stretched no ordinary sky, but a vast dome of dark steel. Veins of magma blazed across it like cracks in reality, glowing with molten fury.

Every deep rumble wasn’t thunder but the echo of colossal hammers striking anvils the size of mountains.

Beneath him stretched a colossal black-iron bridge, suspended across a roaring chasm of liquid fire. Geysers of molten metal erupted below, bursting into sparks that lingered in the air like dying stars.

Alex crossed the bridge, his boots ringing against the metal with each step.

On the other side lay a land unlike anything he’d seen.

Iron forges rose everywhere, like vast factories carved into mountains, chimneys spewing faint wisps of smoke.

Towering constructs of gears, anvils, and steel wheels lay abandoned in eerie silence.

But strangely, there wasn’t a single living being. No blacksmiths, no warriors—just empty forges and the faint clang of phantom hammers echoing in the distance.

Alex narrowed his eyes. "Okay, now it’s getting creepy..."

His gaze shifted—and froze. Among the countless forges, one dominated the land.

The central forge towered like a mountain, its gates of crimson steel taller than castles.

Runes of gold blazed across its walls, rivers of molten metal flowing through carved channels like blood through veins.

Jewels glimmered inlaid in the walls, not for decoration but power, as if the entire forge was alive.

Alex’s instincts flared, urging him forward. He smirked. "Yeah... looks like that’s the place."

He started walking, boots echoing across the barren land.

Then suddenly—footsteps.

Alex stopped cold, eyes narrowing. Shadows stirred at the edges of the path, and soon, figures stepped into view.

Dozens of people stood before him, clad in armor unlike anything he’d ever seen. Their skin shimmered faintly as though forged from metal, their weapons humming with suppressed divine resonance.

At their forefront stepped a woman.

Her violet hair cascaded down like flowing silk, shimmering faintly under the glow of magma. Golden eyes burned like miniature suns, their intensity almost piercing through Alex’s soul.

The way she carried herself—straight-backed, poised, unyielding—spoke of one used to command.

She raised a hand, and the others behind her fell silent.

Her voice was calm, yet edged like sharpened steel.

"Before you go any further, the divine one has ordered us to test your worthiness. Only then may you request anything of him."

Alex groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Seriously? I already cleared the first floor of the tower! What else does he want from me!?"

The woman’s lips curved into a faint smile. "To test your strength. Believe it or not, this is for your own good. You are not the first to come here asking something of him."

Alex’s thoughts soured immediately. ’Are all of these divine freaks missing a few screws, or are they just bored and desperate for entertainment?’

He sighed, spreading his hands. "Alright, let me guess. I have to beat up your guys to prove it, right?"

Her golden eyes narrowed, her mouth twitching. "You really do have a sharp tongue... looks like I’ll have to cut it."

She raised her arm and hurled a sword toward him.

The blade spun through the air before landing at Alex’s feet with a metallic clang.

"Take it," she said coldly. "We will duel. No mana, no divine arts—just pure swordsmanship. Show me if you are worthy."

Alex smirked, leaning down to pick up the blade. It felt heavy, solid, balanced—perfect for a test like this. He twirled it once before resting it on his shoulder.

"Fine," he said, his grin widening. "But let’s get this over with quickly."

Alex and the violet-haired lady slowly took their stances, their blades gleaming faintly in the fiery light of the forge-realm.

The world seemed to hold its breath.

A single leaf drifted lazily from a scorched tree at the edge of the training ground. The moment it touched the ground—

Clang!

Clang!

Both of them vanished into blurs of steel and motion.

Their swords collided with rapid precision. Alex met her stroke for stroke, his blade parrying her first overhead slash, then twisting to deflect a sweeping cut toward his ribs. His movements were sharp, efficient, his body flowing with instinct more than thought.

She pivoted, spinning on the balls of her feet, her sword tracing arcs like ribbons of silver fire. Alex mirrored her, stepping back, then forward, blocking thrusts aimed for his chest and neck.

"Not bad," she said between strikes.

Alex grinned. "You’re not too bad yourself."

Then suddenly her tempo shifted.

Her footwork became strange, unpredictable—cross-steps, sudden lunges, movements that created odd angles. She unleashed a flurry of combos: a vertical slash followed instantly by a reverse upward cut, her body weaving low before snapping up with a thrust toward Alex’s chin.

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