The Extra's Rise - Chapter 639

Chapter 639: Dullahan (4)

My eyes widened the moment I heard Reika’s voice.

Perfect timing.

I’d been just about to activate Mortis Lucida or, failing that, go for the trump card. Not that either was ideal. Mortis Lucida wasn’t something you just used whenever things got messy—it was more of a “once-per-lifetime” kind of technique. According to Meilyn, it gave you something close to enlightenment. Vague, ominous, and suspiciously useful, which meant it was best saved for when the world really wanted to end.

But with Reika arriving, I didn’t need to burn through my emergency rations just yet.

She’d grown. She was strong now—strong enough that I could trust her to have my back. She always said she wanted to become my sword, and it turned out she meant it. The kind of sword that didn’t break when you leaned on it. The kind of sword that swung back.

She cut through the Dullahan’s guard just enough, giving me an opening. I didn’t waste it.

My fingers were already on his chestplate—just before he could bring that oversized greatsword down. But I was faster.

First movement of my Grade 5 close-quarters technique: One-Inch Punch.

My fist closed. Pushed. Connected. A short, sharp motion that sent a concentrated burst of force straight through his armor. The metal around my knuckles groaned, then split with a crack. The Dullahan staggered. Not destroyed—but rattled and hurt enough to begin regenerating again.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cursed Script spiraling over Reika’s arms. Protective glyphs. They shimmered faintly, pushing back the pressure of the Dullahan’s Domain. Not completely, but enough to move.

‘He’s close to mid Immortal-rank,’ Luna said inside my mind, voice quiet and tight. My eyes narrowed.

That wasn’t great.

Before Reika and I could capitalize, something descended.

A crucifix.

From above.

We both raised our swords instinctively and blocked it, the steel groaning under its sheer weight.

“You are strong, young man,” the Dullahan said, still very much without a head, which made the voice coming from nowhere extra unsettling. “Terrifyingly strong. But you haven’t bloomed yet.”

A pause.

“Reika!” I called.

She didn’t need any more words. Her sword rose.

First movement of her Grade 6 art: Sky Breaker.

I responded in kind.

Second movement of my Grade 6 art: Hollow Eclipse.

We struck together. Two Grade 6 arts against one Grade 5—his. The Dullahan met our joint strike without flinching, as though matching us together was just another task on his to-do list. He didn’t overpower us. He didn’t need to.

He held.

That was worse.

I had a backup plan, though.

With Erebus pulsing at my wrist, I activated two seven-circle spells using the Nightingale method: one, a stream of fire shaped like a blade and laced with Deepdark. The other, a crack of black lightning that split the air with a thunderclap.

They crashed toward the Dullahan like judgment itself.

And then stopped.

More crucifixes. Dozens. Upside-down. They fell from nowhere and caught the spells like they were unwanted guests.

That was when gravity broke.

The ground didn’t tilt. It shifted, like someone had decided directions were optional. Reika and I both wobbled, fighting to stay upright, but gravity was only the first casualty. Space followed. The entire battlefield twisted.

His Domain was spreading. Not just pressing against the edges of reality—rewriting it.

‘Are we in some horror movie or what?’ I thought, reaching out and grabbing Reika by the waist.

“Wings,” I said, calmly.

Ambient mana control for flight wasn’t responding well—too much interference—so we had to rely on something more physical. I had shaped a pair of golden wings with Purelight behind me. Reika nodded, focusing.

Black butterfly wings unfolded behind her, laced with Cursed Script. Small, sharp. Beautiful.

And they gave me an idea.

A mad one.

But madness often led to breakthroughs.

‘Luna,’ I called. She heard the intent and moved Lucent Harmony to assist, creating a pocket of tranquility around my wings. A stillness that didn’t belong here. A zone of order in a landscape being rewritten by chaos.

“Reika,” I said, voice low. “Hold the Dullahan. I’ll join you soon.”

She looked at me with unwavering certainty. “Anything for you, Master.”

And then she launched herself forward, blade flashing like black starlight.

Meanwhile, I worked.

I shrank the Divine Miracle down—compressed it, wrapped it in Lucent Harmony’s calm. Then, using Erebus’s Deepdark control, I shaped a layer of black feathers over the wings. Delicate. Sharp. Laced with intent.

Valeria stirred from my mental workshop. ‘Master, this is a bit risky.’

‘But possible,’ I replied. ‘Right, Erebus?’

My Lich companion pulsed in agreement.

So I kept going.

Seraphim’s Embrace was already active, but the Dullahan’s Domain was chewing at its edges. Too unstable. So I rerouted its supersenory feedback—channeled it directly into the black feathers.

Then I layered in spatial magic. Subtle threading. Using the Nightingale method, I sewed folds of distance into each feather.

I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and extended my hand.

The dark feathers scattered.

One by one at first, then in a torrent—rippling outward like a quiet storm. They spiraled through the air, gliding gently, before embedding themselves across the warped terrain of the Domain. Walls. Ground. Even the sky—or what passed for a sky in this warped pocket of space—was dotted with them.

I watched them spread. Watched the Domain change. Not visibly. Not yet. But I could feel it.

Each feather was now a fixed point.

A coordinate.

A node in the system I’d just forced into existence.

Seraphim’s Embrace wasn’t built for this, not really. Its strength lay in its singularity—its overwhelming sensory clarity radiating from a single focal point: me. But this… this changed everything.

The moment the feathers settled, my perception fractured.

Not broke—branched.

Thousands of inputs. Thousands of perspectives. My mind reeled as the feedback poured in from every feather like sonar pings in a collapsing cavern.

I wasn’t just seeing anymore. I was mapping.

The Dullahan’s Domain, once incomprehensible and hostile, now had form. Structure. The chaos had lines now—curved, irregular, flickering lines—but lines nonetheless. I could track them.

Every twist in gravity. Every ripple of space.

Every threat.

It was like having eyes everywhere—but better. These weren’t just passive sensory nodes. Each feather carried a thread of my will, and each thread could be pulled.

I raised a hand and willed myself forward—just slightly—and in an instant, I moved. Space folded between two feathers, and I was there.

Teleportation. Not crude, not loud. Not brute-forced like the usual short-range jump spells that cracked the air with heat and pressure.

No—this was silent. Precise. Smooth.

Featherstep.

That’s what I’d call it.

But the full technique… this web of feathers, senses, and control that let me dissect a Domain and warp through it like I was walking through a field of stars?

Wings of Eclipse.

I smiled, though the toll was immediate.

My mana was being pulled hard. Seraphim’s Embrace was never meant to be distributed like this. Normally it focused everything into my body—a central node, optimized. But now, the power was split. Distributed across dozens, hundreds of points. The sensing wasn’t as deep at each location, but the collective clarity was something else entirely. A scattered mind, sure—but one with a perfect panoramic view.

It wasn’t efficient.

It was effective.

And teleportation—through synchronized spatial magic layered across each feather—made my movement inside the Domain seamless. The Dullahan’s grip over space was strong. But I’d just wired my own system underneath his, a parallel lattice of control.

That didn’t mean it was easy.

My current mana rank wasn’t enough to sustain this for long. Each second I kept Wings of Eclipse active drained me faster than a normal battle would in a full minute.

But it was worth it.