The Extra's Reincarnation-Chapter 143: Capture The Flag (6)

"So be it," he growled, slamming his fist into his palm.

The ground beneath them trembled in response.

"Miyuki, let's crush their pathetic rebellion."

The contempt in Damien's voice was palpable as his massive form towered over Rivaleno's crumpled figure

The second-year's fingers tightened around Rivaleno's collar, lifting him slightly off the ground.

"You first-years never learn,"

Damien sneered, his voice carrying to every corner of the clearing.

"Your arrogance blinds you to reality. This isn't some classroom exercise where participation earns you points. This is—"

Damien abruptly stopped mid-sentence, his head jerking up. Something had changed in the atmosphere—a subtle shift in the air pressure, a whisper of movement where none should be. His instincts, honed through countless battles, screamed danger.

But the warning came too late.

In the fraction of a second it took for Damien to register the threat, Kaelen had already closed the distance between them. The first-year swordsman moved with such fluid grace that he seemed to materialize from the very shadows of the forest.

One moment he stood protectively before Elenore, and the next he was directly behind Damien, his blade already completing its arc toward the second-year's extended arm.

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The sunlight caught the edge of Kaelen's sword, transforming the steel into a ribbon of blinding light.

Damien's eyes widened in genuine shock—not just at the speed of the attack, but at the complete absence of any warning.

Even with his heightened senses, he hadn't detected Kaelen's approach until the blade was already whistling toward his wrist.

SHAK!

He released Rivaleno and wrenched his arm back with such force that he nearly dislocated his own shoulder. The sword missed his flesh by mere millimeters, close enough that Damien felt the displaced air brush against his skin.

Rivaleno collapsed to the ground, coughing and disoriented, as Kaelen positioned himself between the fallen first-year and Damien.

The swordsman's stance revealed nothing of the extraordinary speed he had just demonstrated—he simply stood there, blade held in a relaxed guard position, eyes locked on Damien's face.

"I didn't ask for your help,"

Struggling to his feet Rivaleno got up with a wounded pride burning brighter than his actual injuries.

"I had everything under control."

"…"

Kaelen didn't respond, didn't even acknowledge that he'd heard Rivaleno's words. His focus remained entirely on Damien and the second-years arrayed behind him.

Damien's initial shock had already transformed into cold calculation.

The earth mage took three measured steps backward, putting distance between himself and the first-year swordsman whose abilities he'd clearly underestimated.

"Formation Delta," Damien called out, his voice ringing with authority. "Miyuki, center. Lysander, left flank. Cassandra, right support. The rest of you, containment perimeter."

The second-years responded by shifting into position.

Miyuki stepped forward, towards the centre while the flanks stood up close to her on guard and at the very front of the attack was the second years that stood behind Damien.

Elenore did her best to respond to their tactics and assessed everything she had on the battlefield.

The second-years' formation was textbook perfect.

They had a defensive core with Miyuki as the flag-bearer protected by layered offensive capabilities and strategic positioning that would make it nearly impossible to isolate individual members.

"We need to counter this,"

Their current positioning was scattered, disorganized.

Rivaleno was still struggling to his feet, Marcus nursing what appeared to be bruised ribs, Tiberius and Lennard were both showing signs of fatigue.

Kaelen was the only person who stood as their lone frontline defender, if anything he was more capable of filling any role within any given time.

However this wasn't a losing game by no means.

There was still one person that had not appeared onto the battlefield yet.

For Elenore she knew he was being kept busy somewhere and hopefully he was the one dealing with their leader so if she could buy time for his arrival until then, then maybe there's a chance that victory would be in their hands.

In that instant, Elenore made her decision.

"Tiberius! Lennard!" she called out, her voice clear and commanding.

"Front and center, shield wall formation. You're our vanguard!"

The two tanks exchanged brief glances before nodding in unison. They moved with surprising agility for their size, positioning themselves shoulder to shoulder directly in front of the group.

"Kaelen, take position behind Tiberius. Marcus, behind Lennard. Rivaleno, center flank. You three will be our breakthrough force."

She gestured with the silver flag baton, indicating the gaps in the second-years' formation that would become their targets.

"When the tanks create openings, you three strike through—hard and fast. Don't engage longer than necessary. Hit and retreat."

Kaelen nodded once and Marcus followed suit, wincing slightly as he took his place.

"And what about you?" Rivaleno asked, reluctantly moving to his assigned position.

If it was for an attack in terms of formation he couldn't deny the logic of Elenore's strategy.

"I'll provide ranged support and area control from behind,"

"Our objective isn't to defeat them all—it's to create enough chaos for one of you to reach Miyuki and the flag."

As the first-years scrambled into formation, Elenore took three careful steps backward, creating the perfect distance for her supporting role. From this position, she could see the entire battlefield while remaining protected by her teammates.

"Now!" Damien roared.

The second-years surged forward as one unstoppable force, their movements synchronized with the precision that only came from countless hours of training together.

The very earth trembled beneath their advance, disturbing the forest floor and sending small animals scurrying for safety.

Damien led the charge, his massive form becoming a living battering ram.

With each thunderous step, jagged spikes of stone erupted before him, creating a moving wall of earthen spears that threatened to impale anything in their path.

"HOLD THE LINE!" Tiberius screamed, bracing for Damien's charge.

Beside him, Lennard dug his heels into the soft forest floor, arms outstretched to form an impenetrable barrier with his teammate.

BAM

The collision was catastrophic.

When Damien rushed forward with no regard for them being in the way.

The impact sent a shockwave through their bodies feeling the incredible force this second year was.

"RAAAAAH!" Tiberius roared, his muscles straining as he pushed back against Damien's relentless advance.

Veins bulged on his neck and forearms, his face flushing crimson with effort.

"You're not getting past us!"

Lennard matched his teammate's determination, he channeled every ounce of his considerable strength into maintaining their position.

For a breathtaking moment, the impossible happened—Damien's charge slowed.

Behind the protective wall, Elenore worked frantically, casting buffs and attacking the frontline flanks at the same time.

"Spell Arts of Magica: Bastion's Embrace!"

The magic surged from her, enveloping Tiberius and Lennard in a shimmering golden aura that visibly strengthened their stance.

The two fighters needed no further encouragement.

"And now I'll have to show you what happens when you leave your mages exposed."

Damien's smirk grew wider as he watched both tanks pushing him back.

Just as the two had a considerable amount of distance to get a hit in their fists then glowed with concentrated mana.

Their coordination was sloppy.

Tiberius slightly ahead with his right arm cocked back, Lennard half a step behind with a wild left hook already in motion.

It was a textbook mistake.

With a fluid motion that belied his bulky frame, Damien twisted his body, his own mana flaring in brilliant azure patterns across his skin.

He didn't need to dodge completely; instead, he shifted just enough that Tiberius's punch grazed his shoulder while Lennard's swing sailed past his ear.

The momentum of their failed attacks left both opponents temporarily off-balance, creating the opening Damien had been waiting for.

"Too predictable," he whispered, channeling a surge of mana into his palms.

THUD!

Damien's hands shot out with serpentine speed, fingers splaying wide as they clamped onto Tiberius and Lennard's faces.

His grip was iron, thumbs pressing cruelly against their temples as mana surged through his arms.

"This is the difference between us,"

With a roar that shook the trees, Damien lifted both massive first-years off their feet as though they weighed nothing. Their legs kicked helplessly in the air, hands clawing desperately at his wrists to no avail. Through his fingers, their muffled screams barely registered in the chaos of battle.

"Watch closely, children," Damien called to the remaining first-years, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight.

"This is what happens when you challenge your betters!"

BAM!

In one brutal motion, he slammed both Tiberius and Lennard headfirst into the forest floor.

Dust and debris exploded outward in a choking cloud.

Then the monitoring drones above the fallen tanks flashed crimson, their automated voices announcing in sterile tones:

[First-year students eliminated: Tiberius Ashworth and Lennard Blackthorn. Four first-years remaining.]

Damien straightened, dusting his hands as he surveyed his handiwork with undisguised satisfaction.

"Who's next?" he taunted, turning toward the remaining first-years.

What he failed to notice was the calculated purpose behind Tiberius and Lennard's seemingly clumsy attack.

Their sacrifice had been strategic—a diversion orchestrated by Elenore's tactical mind to create the perfect opening.