The Extra Who Shouldn't Exist novel Chapter 269

Chapter 269: Chapter 269 : Clash between the armies of two different worlds

From the broken hole that Azrael had torn into the domain with his aura of domination, an overwhelming surge of energy burst forth.

Massive streams of raw, pulsating life force spiraled toward him, flooding into his dying body as if the world itself was offering him tribute.

His veins glowed with an unholy light, searing through his skin like molten fire. The gaping hole in his chest closed in an instant, flesh knitting together under the torrent of unnatural energy.

Then he felt it—his strength rising.

The aura around him darkened, becoming more savage and oppressive with every heartbeat. The ground trembled beneath him as he slowly stood, arms spread wide. A maniacal smile crept across his face.

"Yes... this is it. Give me more... more... more!" he screamed, his voice echoing through the shattering space.

Whispers erupted in his mind like banshees shrieking.

’Kill... kill... kill... destroy everything. Give tribute to the god of death.’

Azrael’s eyes turned pitch black, devoid of light. His once calm expression twisted into one of pure madness.

On the other side, Silas’s breath hitched. His pupils narrowed as he saw them—dozens of corrupted souls swirling around Azrael, screaming in agony and ecstasy.

He could feel the pressure, feel reality itself trembling.

’Damn it... this isn’t normal. His strength is rising too fast. I have to end this before it’s too late.’

With a sharp flick of his finger, spiritual energy gathered beside him in a violent swirl. Two massive chimeras took shape, their bodies formed from condensed spiritual essence.

Each stood nearly twenty feet tall. One beast had the body of a lion fused with serpentine tails that hissed with burning light; the other had a skeletal dragon’s head with translucent scales that shimmered like shattered glass. Both lowered their heads, black smoke pouring from their maws.

"Kill him," Silas ordered coldly.

The two beasts roared and lunged toward Azrael at blinding speed, but before they could reach him, a low, ancient voice echoed across the battlefield.

"By death... I unbound you all. Awaken."

The air froze.

Dark fissures spread across the ground. Then, from the gashes in reality itself, a massive army of undead began to emerge.

The earth cracked as legions of corpses—armored knights, fallen mages, skeletal beasts—crawled out of the ground, eyes burning red.

Goblins and orcs with rotting flesh marched beside towering undead dragons whose wings were torn but still emanated devastating energy.

At the front stood an old armored knight, his body wrapped in blackened steel and decay. Beside him was an orange-haired girl, her undead form delicate yet terrifying, scars tracing her pale face. The power radiating from the two was beyond comprehension—ancient, dreadful laced with demonic energy.

The chimeras never reached their target.

The old knight moved. His blade sang through the air once, a streak of black light cutting reality itself. The next instant, the two chimeras were gone—cleaved in half, their bodies dissolving into motes of shattered spirit light.

Silas froze, shock flickering in his eyes.

The old undead knight stood motionless, lowering his sword. The entire undead army turned simultaneously, their red eyes fixed on Azrael.

Then, in one synchronized motion, they bowed.

The air was thick with death and power.

Azrael tilted his head slightly, cracking his neck.

"Finally," he said, voice low and dark, "I’m feeling alive again."

Behind him, the broken rift finally sealed itself, cutting off the flow of life force. Azrael clicked his tongue.

"Tch. Oh well. Looks like I’ll just have to make do with this."

Silas let out a laugh, slow and mocking.

"Hah. Kid, you really put on a damn good show," he said, clapping once. "But don’t forget where you are. This place—this domain—it belongs to me. Everything here moves by my will."

His expression darkened. "And don’t think for a second that you’re the only one with an army."

The air rippled. Small glowing portals began forming all around Silas, each one opening with a thunderous pulse. From them emerged creatures of spirit and light—massive wolves made of spiritual energy, soaring falcons with transparent wings, serpents woven from pure lightning.

Dozens became hundreds as they marched and flew to Silas’s side, forming a radiant legion of spiritual beasts, their roars echoing through the domain.

Before the first blow was even exchanged, the ground beneath them shook from the tension. The undead army and the spiritual beasts stood face to face, each waiting for a single command.

Silas raised his hand.

"Impressive," he said loudly, his voice filled with cruel amusement. "To rise from near death and reach the power of a Transcendent—mid rank, no less. But you’re still weaker than me."

He grinned. "Though I have to admit, I’m curious. How did you do it?"

Azrael’s grin widened.

"I just sucked dry a monster," he said simply.

Silas frowned, not understanding, but before he could ask, the undead army moved.

The Knight raised his sword, and with a thunderous roar, the endless horde of death surged forward.

Seeing the motion, Silas shouted in response, his spirit army charging to meet them.

"Attack!"

And then chaos erupted.

Death clashed with spirit, darkness collided with light, and the entire domain shuddered as two worlds of power met head‑on.

The clash between the two armies began with a thunderous roar that shook the dimension itself.

On one side, the spiritual beasts—glorious, radiant entities of mana and spiritual energy—charged with blinding brilliance. Their roars echoed like ancient hymns, each beast radiating purifying power.

Wolves made of crystalized mana darted forward, tearing through the soil, falcons dove with piercing cries, and serpents of lightning coiled around groups of undead, exploding in bursts of searing light.

Opposite them, the undead moved like an unstoppable tide of darkness—groaning, snarling, and screeching as demonic energy rolled out of their decayed bodies. Armor-clad skeletons raised rusted weapons glowing with crimson fire. Corpses of fallen giants swung massive axes, crushing everything in their path.

Where divine energy clashed with death, the air itself screamed.

Every explosion sent shockwaves of light and shadow rippling through the battlefield, annihilating tree after tree. Spiritual energy clashed against demonic miasma, creating storms of power that painted the sky in ash-gray and violet.

The old undead knight led the charge, his black blade consumed with poisonous mist that sliced through the ranks of spiritual beasts with silent precision. Beside him, the orange-haired undead girl danced across the battlefield like a ghost, her scythe reaping beasts effortlessly, severing heads with each graceful swing.

The radiant beasts fell one after another, their spiritual bodies fading into nothingness.

Seeing his army faltering, Silas’s eyes went wide.

"Impossible... they’re losing to an army of corpses!"

Before he could react further, a chilling voice spoke behind him.

"Old man, where are you looking? Did you forget about me?"

Silas’s eyes snapped wide as a sharp pain lanced through his chest. He looked down—and saw Azrael’s hand buried deep inside his heart.

Turning his head slowly, Silas saw the maniacal smile twisting Azrael’s face.

Azrael pulled his hand free, crimson liquid dripping down his fingers before he licked it casually and spat on the ground.

"You’re not even worthy to become an undead in my army," Azrael said coldly.

Silas stumbled to his knees, his eyes wide in disbelief. But then, his lips curled into a grin as the hole in his chest slowly closed, restored by the domain’s power.

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