The Extra Who Inherited Ragnarok

The convoy rolled steadily along the mountain road.

Massive ironwood trees lined both sides of the path, their silver leaves rustling in the wind.

Inside Team Seven’s wagon...

Silence lingered.

Sophia eventually broke it.

"So..."

She looked around with a grin.

"We’re supposed to introduce ourselves, right?"

Damien didn’t even look up.

"No."

Sophia ignored him.

"I’ll start anyway."

She leaned back comfortably.

"I’m Sophia Nightingale. B-Rank Mana Affinity, dual daggers, Wind Magic. I hate boring people."

She pointed at Eric.

"Your turn."

Eric scratched his head.

"Eric Walker. Sword user. B-Rank."

He shrugged.

"I like food."

Sophia laughed.

"Simple enough."

Her eyes moved to Damien.

He sighed.

"Damien Ashbourne."

"Spear."

"Earth Magic."

"Done."

"You’re really terrible at conversations."

"I know."

Then...

Everyone looked toward Luna.

She sat by the window.

Watching the passing forest.

Without turning around—

"Luna Frost."

"Ice Magic."

Silence.

Sophia blinked.

"...That’s it?"

"Yes."

Sophia sighed dramatically.

"Tough crowd."

Finally...

Everyone looked at Noah.

He smiled faintly.

"Noah Blackwood."

"F-Rank."

"I nearly died in Blackthorn Forest."

Eric snorted.

"Nearly?"

"You looked dead half the time."

The wagon erupted into light laughter.

Even Luna’s lips curved ever so slightly.

Hours later...

The convoy entered Ironwood Pass.

Towering cliffs rose on both sides.

The road narrowed considerably.

Professor Elena rode at the front on horseback.

Something about the place bothered Noah.

Too quiet.

No birds.

No insects.

No monster sounds.

Nothing.

Predator’s Instinct activated.

Weakly.

Then...

Stronger.

His hand slowly moved toward Shadowfang.

"...Stop the wagons."

Nobody heard him.

The wheels continued turning.

His heartbeat accelerated.

"No..."

He stood abruptly.

"STOP THE WAGONS!"

His voice echoed across the pass.

Students looked at him in confusion.

Professor Elena turned sharply.

"What—"

Before she could finish—

BOOOOOOM!!

The mountain exploded.

A massive boulder crashed onto the road.

The first wagon overturned instantly.

Students screamed.

More explosions followed.

Rocks rained from above.

The convoy descended into chaos.

"AMBUSH!"

Professor Elena drew her sword.

A crimson barrier erupted around several wagons.

Another explosion shattered it.

Figures in black cloaks leaped from the cliffs.

Masks covered their faces.

Each carried curved blades glowing with dark mana.

One of them shouted—

"No witnesses!"

The battle began.

Noah kicked open the wagon door.

"Everyone out!"

Team Seven jumped from the wagon just as another boulder crushed it.

Wood splintered everywhere.

Sophia rolled to safety.

Damien immediately planted his spear into the ground.

Stone walls erupted around nearby students.

Luna raised one hand.

Dozens of ice spears materialized in the air.

They launched simultaneously.

Three masked attackers fell instantly.

Eric drew his sword.

"We’re under attack already?!"

Professor Elena’s voice thundered across the battlefield.

"Protect the freshmen!"

More masked figures descended.

There were dozens.

No...

Hundreds.

Noah’s eyes narrowed.

"This isn’t a random bandit attack."

The attackers ignored valuables.

Ignored supplies.

Ignored professors whenever possible.

Instead...

Every one of them pushed toward the freshmen.

Toward...

Him.

Predator’s Instinct screamed.

Behind!

Noah spun.

A masked assassin appeared silently behind him.

Their blade flashed toward his neck.

CLANG!

Shadowfang intercepted it.

The force pushed Noah backward.

The assassin tilted their head.

"...Found him."

Those two words froze Noah’s blood.

They weren’t attacking students.

They were hunting...

The Seventh Successor.

Suddenly, all the assassins stopped fighting for a single heartbeat.

Every masked face turned toward Noah.

Then, as one—

They charged.

Sophia’s eyes widened.

"...Why are they all after you?!"

Noah tightened his grip on Shadowfang.

"...That’s a very good question."

Far above the battlefield...

Standing atop the highest cliff...

Azrael watched with folded arms.

He wasn’t smiling.

He wasn’t helping either side.

He simply observed.

"Let’s see..."

He whispered.

"...how the Seventh survives without ancient guardians."

Then he closed his eyes.

Waiting.

Watching.

Judging.