The Extra's Rise

Chapter 262: Bishop Vale (1)

The power gap between me and the Bishop wasn't just vast—it was insurmountable. Despite the injuries Carrie inflicted upon him, the massive gap stil existed.

And I knew that.

But knowing didn't change anything. The cold reality settled in my stomach like lead, yet my grip on my sword remained steady, unwavering despite the tremors threatening to overtake my limbs.

I just had to hold on.

Because that was all it took to make the impossible possible. One moment. One chance. That's all I needed.

The air around us twisted, reality bending under the weight of something far greater than just mana. Colors inverted, then dulled to monochrome before bleeding back into existence, distorted and wrong. The very fabric of space seemed to fold in on itself, creating pockets of nothingness that swallowed sound.

Bishop Vale's eyes gleamed with curiosity, a predatory light dancing in their depths. "Is this... a Domain?" His voice carried no fear, only intrigue, like a scientist observing an unexpected phenomenon beneath his microscope. Something to be studied, dissected, understood. He exhaled slowly, his grip on his staff loosening ever so slightly, the ornate wood gleaming with a sickly crimson light that pulsed in time with an unseen heartbeat. "A supernatural Domain... how interesting."

His gaze flickered to my side, where the translucent form of the Lich hovered, skeletal fingers weaving complex patterns through the air, its hollow eye sockets burning with ethereal fire.

"Ah. I assume this is the Gift of your Lich?" He smiled, but it wasn't pleasant—all teeth and no warmth, like a wound carved into flesh. "Incredible. Truly."

He looked back at me, the amusement in his expression curdling into something sharper, more dangerous. "You are a terrifying talent, Arthur Nightingale. Given time, you could become a threat. A real one."

His eyes darkened, pupils expanding until they nearly swallowed the iris. "Unfortunately, you are far from my level."

He raised his staff, the wood creaking as if alive, hungry, and the air grew thick with the scent of copper and decay.

I moved.

My muscles bunched, propelling me forward with every ounce of speed I could muster, Purelight blazing along my blade as I prepared to strike—

Too late.

A tide of blood-forged mana erupted from his fingertips, twisting and surging toward me in an unrelenting wave. It wasn't just raw power—it was intelligent, alive in a way magic shouldn't be, tendrils of crimson energy seeking me out like predators scenting prey.

I barely had time to react, to shift my stance.

I raised my sword, Purelight blazing along its edge as I swung down, cutting a diagonal arc through the air, the blade leaving trails of white fire in its wake—

Impact.

The sheer force rattled through my arms, my bones screaming in protest as the shock traveled up from my hands to my shoulders, then down my spine. I gritted my teeth, barely holding my ground as the wave of magic crashed against me, pushing me back, forcing my feet to slide against the warped ground of the Domain. My heels dug furrows into the floor, the pressure building with each passing second.

The only reason I wasn't already dead was the armor that clung to me like a second skin—Erebus's Bone Armor. The midnight-black plates absorbed some of the impact, glowing with a dull purple light as they consumed the energy directed at me. Even so, the pressure was unbearable, like being caught in the path of an avalanche, the weight threatening to crush me completely.

The Bishop wasn't even trying. His expression remained relaxed, almost bored, as he directed the tide of blood magic with casual flicks of his fingers, as if conducting an orchestra rather than attempting to obliterate a human being.

I shifted my stance, digging deeper, summoning more of my own mana to reinforce the blade. The Purelight responded, burning brighter, pushing back against the tide—but it wasn't enough. For every inch I gained, the Bishop's power surged again, forcing me back two more.

"Enough of this farce," he sighed, his voice tinged with irritation, like he was putting down a particularly annoying pet. His mana shifted, condensing—