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The Author Reincarnated As An Extra

Being the author of the breakout novel, Gates of The Primordials, Jarren Fletcher did not care about the constant critiques claiming he had a habit of treating extra characters as mere plot devices, creating and then dumping them once they’d served their purpose. To Jarren, it didn’t matter. Extras were just that—extras. All that mattered was the main character. But Jarren never expected to wake up in his own story, reincarnated as one of the meaningless, disposable extra characters, Deremiah Morcant—a coward who took his own life to escape the perilous challenges of the Gate Trials. Now, Jarren has to face those deadly challenges himself in the body of a weak, insignificant extra. He must find a way to survive in the rules of the dangerous world he had created, whilst also trying to save it. But time is running out. The next Wave is coming, and so are the paragons.

Forteller · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
22 Chs

• The One Who Built A Bridge

The crimson sky had awoken now, fully painting the ruined land in bright scarlet. There was wind, blowing the leaves of the standing trees gently and before the team of six, the chasm yawned wide and deep, dividing the land into two barren halves.

After the surprise battle that morning, the team had been hard at work, cutting down the thick, gnarled trees with their blades to construct a makeshift bridge.

They made sure to select the sturdiest of the trees which were very few. If they did pick weaker ones, they were tied together to strengthen the sturdy ones more.

As they worked, their breaths mingled with the cool morning air, the sound of their swords slicing through wood echoed across the desolate expanse.

It was all hands on deck. Everyone was involved, even fat, cowardly Pallock.

They used Mist's Artifact, Tendril of Gold to secure the logs together. The stronger trees stayed below to support the weaker ones which were on top.

Deremiah didn't know much about making makeshift bridges but he was good with ropes — for reasons best kept to himself — and so he handled the tying of the logs together.

Conversation was plenty, as they argued about the best way to position the pieces of timber, or which was sturdy and which was weak.

But in the end, their teamwork was seamless, and Deremiah had almost forgotten about what happened that morning, and was increasingly grateful that he was around people who knew what they were doing.

Faya and Dane took the lead in cutting down the trees, using her halberd and his greatsword. Alfis and Pallock hauled the freshly cut logs to the edge of the chasm where Deremiah and Mist worked together to tie them.

"Keep it tight, slummer," Alfis muttered after he arrived with the last piece of timber needed. Deremiah ignored the jab, focusing instead on steadying the logs as Mist glared at Alfis, wanting to say something but letting it go.

As Deremiah knelt near the logs, the 'dong!' sound of the Leaderboard echoed in the air and the holographic structure appeared in the sky.

Everyone paused and stared at it. With the foreboding sounds, two names vanished from the list, their spaces replaced with an empty void.

Deremiah stared at the board, his frown deepening. 'More people are dying.' His eyes scanned the names at the top: Grendon Godless was still at number one and so was Adrian Belltower who was directly below.

Deremiah didn't care to search for his name. His eyes were presently plastered on one; Elora of Dawn, ranked third. His chest tightened. She was already in the fourth Trial.

Before he had the chance to search for Zenith or any other of the main characters, the Leaderboard disappeared. Everyone was silent for a while after that, before Alfis dropped a comment.

"Looks like Grendon is well on his way, then."

Mist sighed. "Nobody is surprised about that."

Deremiah lowered his head, saying nothing but clearly brimming with thoughts. He continued with the tying while Mist watched him curiously.

When he refused to look up at her, she finished her knot and walked up to him, squatting by his side.

Deremiah lifted his head up.

She smiled at him. "Hey. About earlier… I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."

Deremiah arched his brows at her, surprised. "Oh."

"I understand being from the Ander Salmarian. You're not used to—" She gestured vaguely at the carnage left behind earlier. "—this side of the world. But you are part of it now and we do things like this not because we want to but because we have to survive. You know that, right?"

Deremiah nodded. "Yeah, I know."

She gave him a faint smile. "Good. So, is our deal still on?"

He looked at her blankly and replied, "I guess so."

"Great. And maybe work on your sleeping, huh?" she added with a teasing lilt. "You sleep like a corpse. We were under attack, and you didn't even flinch."

A chuckle managed to escape him, despite himself. "I'll keep that in mind."

Mist got on her feet and smiled at him. With that, she clapped her hands and walked to the other end of the makeshift bridge. "Alright now, the logs are secured so it's time to lift the bridge."

Everyone obeyed and took their positions. Mist and the nobles channeled their Aether into their palms and their muscles, using the magical energy to enhance their strength.

Deremiah didn't know how to use this with Void energy, and so he watched alongside Pallock in the pretense that he wasn't strong enough to use Aether in that manner.

Grunts escaped the four other nobles as they put their all into lifting the bridge vertically.

Once the bridge stood upright, it was time to guide it forward and let it fall toward the other side of the chasm. This was the tricky part and they hoped that the bridge was long enough to reach it.

Slowly, the bundle of timber fell and landed with a satisfying thud, spanning the chasm perfectly.

"Wooohooo!" Faya raised both hands and shouted. "We did it! We did it guys!" She hugged Mist tightly. "We made a bridge."

Deremiah moved his gaze, catching Alfis who also knew that now wasn't the time to celebrate. Making the bridge was one thing, but the main challenge was to cross it, avoid the river of lava simmering beneath and the Corrupted Paragon living in its depths.

After collecting all they required, the team of the nobles and the slummer began to cross. To keep up with his act of bravery and chivalry, Alfis led the way as they stepped cautiously onto the wide, sturdy structure.

Behind him was his brother, and after him was Mist, Deremiah, Faya and Pallock in that order.

Despite the bridge's solidity, the vast chasm and the molten sea below made every step feel precarious. They had to be careful as Mist had pointed out, and those very words guided each step they took.

Since he didn't have a swordhold or a sheath, Deremiah held his sword in his hand, and this left him slightly worried that it could be a disadvantage in situations where he needed both hands free.

However, he moved on forward, keeping his steps light and careful. There were small creaks here and there as they moved on, and eventually, Deremiah gaze was drawn to the lake of lava down below.

He immediately regretted that.

The lava sea churned beneath them, molten rock bubbling and shifting in waves of fiery red and orange. He felt the heat radiating upward and making his skin prickle.

Deremiah realized then that if his skin was reacting this way to the heat, then the wooden bridge wouldn't last that long. He swallowed hard, his throat dry. They had to move faster.

"You're not supposed to look down," Faya said behind him, almost like she was teasing him.

But it was too late. Deremiah's eyes were glued to the molten river. However, he wasn't just aimlessly staring at the red scorching waves, he was inspecting something. His brows were furrowed and fear began to crawl into his expression as he realized what it was.

"We have to go faster," Deremiah whispered.

"What was that?" Mist stopped, glancing over her shoulder at him.

"The p— paragon beast is here," he muttered fearfully. "We have to hurry to the other end."

Everyone stopped — which was the exact opposite of what he wanted them to do — and peered over the edge.

The lake was, however , silent. There were no signs of any beast, just the popping of boiling bubbles and waves of lava splashing against each other.

Faya's lips curled to a disappointed pout. "I don't know Deremiah, I can't see any—"

Her words were cut short by a sudden, sickening squelch. A slimy, thin tendril shot out of nowhere and wrapped around her waist. Before she or any one could react, it yanked her off the bridge and into the air with terrifying force.

"Aaahhhhhh!" Faya screamed, her limbs flailing as she was holsted high above the crimson sea.

Everyone turned around in a rush of fear. "Faya!" Mist screamed.

Instantly, the surface of the lava erupted violently. A massive, scaled monstrosity with a form reminiscent of a shark burst out of the sea of lava, opened its jaws, and swallowed the screaming girl whole.

Early days, but hoping to see a review of what you think of the story so far. Reviews help tell me whether you like what you're seeing or if there are things to improve on. Thank you!

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