Explosions engulfed the whole forest, and points kept racking up. Everything was going smoothly. A bit too smoothly.
I continued to move deeper into the forest.
It was divided into three regions: the outer region held the first-ring beasts, the middle region housed the second-ring beasts, and the innermost region belonged to the dreaded third-ring beasts.
Right now, I stood on the border between the middle and inner region, and I dared not step beyond it. Third-ring beasts were on a different level altogether—something I couldn’t hope to handle at my current strength.
My gaze shifted toward the shadowed depths of the inner region as I scanned the area. And that’s when I saw him.
My psychic-imbued eyes cut through the thick bushes like a hawk’s, and there as clear as day—he stood.
The first protagonist of [Ascension of The Arcane King], the Child of Night - Ray Bladefield.
His butler uniform fit him so well it was almost unfair, perfectly matching that midnight hair and the black blindfold covering his eyes.
And don’t even get me started on the white glove. It was like the universe itself had added a finishing touch, just to spite the rest of us mortals.
Honestly, with that face, he could have been an A-list actor back on Earth. Or at the very least, the guy in every perfume commercial who makes eye contact for half a second and ruins your self-esteem.
And then there was the girl following behind him.
Her snow-white hair was an unmistakable mark of the Pendragon bloodline. She was none other than Aurelia Pendragon herself.
Her ruby-red eyes gleamed with a soft, playful warmth. It was so different from the burning, almost feral crimson of Redmane.
And gods, she was beautiful. The kind of drop-dead gorgeous that felt unfair to everyone else trying to exist in the same reality. Delicate features framed by silken white hair, and lips curved into a mischievous smile that could make even monsters pause.
Even the way she moved—light, graceful, almost dancing between the shadows looked like something straight out of an artist’s daydream.
Honestly, if she ever showed up on Earth, half the planet would forget how to speak, and the other half would be too busy staring to care.
And then, as if to remind me why they were the protagonists, I watched them work.
Ray moved first. In one smooth motion, he raised a hand, and shadows coiled around his palm like living smoke. His midnight-colored grimoire shimmered into existence behind him with eight rings stitched on the cover.
From its pages, a spirit card flashed—a faint silver etching that glowed for barely a heartbeat. And just like that, twin daggers materialized in his gloved hands with their blades so dark that they seemed to swallow the light around them.
Then he stepped forward as his daggers danced through the air. They were quick with fluid arcs so precise they looked rehearsed a thousand times over.
One by one, the beasts lunging toward them froze mid-pounce and fell on the ground with eyes wide. They were alive yet unable to move.
And then there was Aurelia. She skipped along behind him, her white hair catching what little light slipped through the canopy.
Her ruby-red eyes gleamed with playful delight. Still humming under her breath, she balanced lightly on the unmoving beasts with heels as she crushed their skulls with an almost careless grace.
Each step ended a life. Each laugh echoed strangely through the clearing, sounding too bright for the quiet horror it accompanied.
Ray never broke stride. His blindfold never slipped, and his face stayed as calm as still water.
And then, just as I thought I could stay a quiet spectator, Ray’s head tilted ever so slightly—those blindfolded eyes somehow finding me in the underbrush.
Aurelia also paused mid-step and turned. Her eyes met mine, glittering with curiosity and amusement.
For a second, none of us moved.
Then I did the only reasonable thing a background character could do when caught by two protagonists with main character auras leaking everywhere:
I pulled a handful of bomberries from my coat pocket and tossed them at them like overripe fruit at a festival.
"Don’t mind me!" I called out, forcing a grin. "Just thought you two could use a little spice in your routine!"
The bomberries arced through the air as they pulsed with unstable mana.
Seeing the incoming attack, Ray’s expression stayed unreadable beneath the blindfold as he raised a dagger in one hand, ready to deflect. Whereas Aurelia’s grin only widened, her laughter chiming through the clearing like silver bells.
"Oh? Playing dirty already, are we?" she teased, hopping lightly to the ground.
"Call it artistic sabotage," I shot back, already stepping behind another tree for cover. "Your little waltz was getting boring to watch."
The bomberries hit the ground near them, bursting in sharp flashes of greenish smoke and sending mana-charged shockwaves everywhere.
It wouldn’t stop them, of course. But it might buy me a few seconds and annoy them enough to keep things interesting.
And really, in a world where you’re not the protagonist, annoying the protagonists sometimes felt like the closest thing to victory.
But then, as I was about to move, a voice echoed throughout the air.