The Extra Can't be A Hero

Chapter 290: The Return of the Titans (1)

The Necropolis of the Gods.

After Yval's departure, the once-isolated and quiet cave no longer felt dead. The colossal remains of fallen Titans lay half-buried in ashen sand and petrified starlight, their names erased by silence. Broken halos formed rings around empty skulls the size of mountains. Divine ichor had long since crystallised into rivers of amber light, frozen mid-flow, as if the universe itself had chosen to avert its gaze.

But the Herald shattered that stillness.

The ground began to pulse like a buried heart. Cracks raced through the godstone plains, not with decay, but with returning will. From within the titanic cadavers, ancient runes reignited—brands carved by forgotten laws, glowing with a dull, primaeval fury.

The air thickened, heavy with gravity and pressure, as if the weight of epochs had suddenly remembered how to exist. Colossal ribs twitched. Fingers the size of citadels flexed, grinding continents of dust into storms.

Each movement sent shockwaves through the realm, toppling monolithic tomb-markers and collapsing temples built by later civilisations that had mistaken this place for a grave rather than a battlefield.

And then… The first crack in the seal.

The Herald sun-kissed face flushed in pure jubilation. She had been waiting an uncountable number of years for this moment, this very moment.

"Yes… My brethren… Awaken!!!"

Titanic hearts thundered into motion, each beat echoing like a drum of war across dimensions. Divine blood liquefied, flowing anew through arteries carved into the land itself. Rivers reversed course, drawn toward those colossal forms, while gravity warped around them, bending space as if unwilling to deny their claim.

The first to unveil itself was a feral beast. It resembled a towering werewolf, its body wrapped in coarse brown fur, its gleaming yellow eyes brimming with a venomous intelligence—as though the poison of the world itself churned behind its gaze.

Any living creature that met those eyes felt terror bloom instantly, an instinctive dread clawing into the mind as something ancient and unquestionable screamed run.

This was no mere monster.

It was an apex predator, and it knew it.

Its hide was impervious, a living armour no blade or spell could hope to pierce. Its claws curved like pale spears, honed not for battle, but for inevitability—promises of death waiting to be fulfilled.

The next to awaken was a gleaming golem.

Its form was crafted in flawless proportions, forged from an ancient metal unknown to the modern age. This alloy reflected neither light nor shadow correctly, as if reality itself failed to agree on its substance. It was vast beyond comprehension, its bulk eclipsing the entire Necropolis, a singular presence so immense that the land beneath it felt incidental.

It moved slowly, almost languidly, and yet no one mistook it for harmless.

Each ponderous motion sent a deep, metallic resonance rippling outward—not through the air, but directly into the mind. The sound was like a colossal bell tolling inside one's skull, a sonorous chime that rattled thought and will alike.

The golem was impossibly heavy, a monument given motion. And yet, in defiance of its mass, its body could soften and flow, collapsing into liquid metal before reshaping itself at will. In that contradiction lay its true terror: a being as indestructible as a fortress, and as unpredictable as a living tide.

The Herald smiled earnestly as she was reunited with her siblings after over thousands of years. Smiling she whispered:

"Knodalon… Xiphos… You're finally awake!"

The feral creature shook its eyes as it gazed questionably down on the Herald. Still delirious, it couldn't comprehend that the woman standing in front of it was one of its own, and attempted to swat the Herald like she were a housefly. But the Herald didn't panic.

Instead, she expected it.

A surge of purple mana exploded from the blindfolded woman, and the Beast Titan halted its attack.

"Agnosia? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me," the Herald spoke clearly. "Long time no see, Knodalon."

"HA! HA! Agnosia! It's you! Ahhh, why are you so small now? You look like those weaklings that Theia used to shelter."

The Beast Titan laughed, its voice raw and mocking as it sought to tease its sibling.

But Knodalon did not answer.

Instead, it stilled. As its strength continued to return, something far heavier than flesh began to awaken within it.

Memories—old, buried, and unwelcome—rose from the depths of its being. Visions of the ancient war flooded back: the skies aflame, the world screaming, and the moment the ancient Dragons tore divinity from Titan flesh with claw and flame, ripping it away and claiming the Mandate of Heaven for themselves.

And beneath all of it lay the most damning truth of all.

The Titans had lost.

"Those bastard lizards! I'm going to rip them to shreds!!!"

The Beast Titan roared, and its presence surged. If Amon or Yue were here, they would have compared the pressure it emitted to a Dragon Progenitor, maybe many more times than that. It was suffocating and obscene, with few regular mortals being able to breathe in its presence.

Fortunately, there weren't any mortals here.

"Knodalon, quiet down. If you're going to make a fuss, how is Agnosia going to tell us what happened?"

"Xiphos! You shut up before I rip you first! If not for Khion and you trusting the Dragons, would we have lost the war?!"

"I… made a mistake in trusting them. I… won't do that again."

The Metal Titan spoke with restrained fury, clearly still scarred by the Dragons' betrayal. But before the pair could continue their arguments, a sudden crack could be heard within the necropolis.

Three more presences stirred, their awakenings rippling through the Necropolis like aftershocks of creation itself.

The first was a colossal treant, a Titan grown not from nature, but as nature incarnate.

Its body was formed of countless living trees fused into a single, towering frame, roots thicker than city walls plunging deep into the godstone below. Entire ecosystems thrived upon its bark—verdant canopies, flowering vines, moss-covered ridges, and winding rivers that flowed along its limbs like veins.

Beasts nested in its branches, and luminous insects drifted through its foliage like living constellations. Its presence radiated an inexhaustible vitality, an echo of the planet's own life-force, as if the world itself were breathing through it.

The second presence descended with a howl of wind.

It was a divine Titan of storms, its lower body a roaring tornado that devoured the ground it touched, lifting debris, bone, and dust into a spiralling abyss. Above the cyclone rose a sculpted torso of living divinity, chiselled as if by the hand of a god obsessed with perfection.

Thunder rolled within its miniature hurricane-heart, and veins of lightning crawled across its form, flashing and vanishing in blinding bursts. Its body flickered and distorted, half-present, half-displaced, making any attempt to strike it feel futile—as though it existed slightly out of phase with reality itself.

The last to awaken was the embodiment of a living flame.

A flaming demigod rose from a sea of molten ruin, its crimson skin etched with glowing fissures like cooling magma. An eternal blaze crowned its head, a living inferno that never dimmed nor consumed its bearer.

Every step it took scorched existence itself; stone vitrified, air ignited, and even divine matter threatened to evaporate under its gaze. The flames it commanded were not merely heat, but annihilation—fires that reduced substance and essence alike to nothingness.

These three Titans fully awakened and turned as one.

Recognition passed between them without words. Their attention settled upon the Herald—upon their kindred, the one who had once borne the mantle of the Titan of Life.

And with that recognition came a shift in the air; an unspoken understanding was shared.

"Agnosia."

"Theia… Anemos… Pyrrhos… I've missed you…"

"My darling sister… you've suffered."

Theia, the Mountain Titan, embraced her sister with a vine. The Herald, unable to bear the burden of it all, finally burst into tears.

"My… It seems that we've lost the war, huh?"

"How many years? No centuries have passed since we were sealed?"

The Titans were slowly coming to understand what had occurred in their absence. They had lost the war to the Dragons and were sealed in the Necropolis. The Herald somehow managed to evade the seal and spent a tremendous amount of time planning their resurrection.

"I stopped counting after a hundred thousand years."

"Good heavens… You've suffered, Agnosia… But, don't worry… We're here now…"

"I don't sense Khion's life force…"

"Khion has been returned to the earth…"

Theia continued to embrace the Herald, while the other Titans tightened their expressions. The Ocean Titan had her divinity absorbed by Thalassa, and Thalassa had its divinity absorbed by Aluria, Leon's mother. The Ocean Titan, once a mighty being that stood among their pantheon, had been forgotten to time, never to resurrect again.

If not for the Herald's sacrifice, they would have continued their slumber until all of their energies had returned to the earth, making it impossible for their race to see a resurgence… the same way Khion did.

"Agnosia… Thank you…"

And then, a final voice pierced the seal.

It did not echo—it overrode.

From the innermost depths of the Necropolis, something vast and faceless began to rise. Its presence arrived before its form, crushing thought and will alike. The air turned heavy, saturated with authority older than death itself.

Even the Titans, beings who had shattered worlds, were forced to their knees as that voice asserted its existence. The entity emerged wreathed in hues of regal purple and molten gold: a flawless, pure-white figure veined with luminous streaks of purple and gold, composed entirely of condensed energy.

It resembled an angel sculpted from divinity itself, radiant and terrible, a being for whom reality was not a rule but a suggestion. Space bent subtly around it. Laws faltered in its wake, reshaping themselves without resistance, as though eager to please.

With the slightest motion, it could have rewritten the Necropolis—or erased it outright.

Silence reigned. The Titans remained kneeling, their instincts screaming recognition. The entity stepped forward and reached out, its touch gentle despite the weight of eternity behind it. Two fingers lifted the Herald's chin, forcing her gaze upward to meet a face that had none—only blinding white brilliance edged in purple and gold.

"My Lord, I…"

"You don't have to kneel to anyone, my love. You will be the reason why we Titans rise again."

The entity that was made of divinity didn't have a face, but the Herald could see its smile. Melting into the entity's warm embrace, she cried:

"My Lord… I missed you the most."

"I know… Rest, my love. Let me handle the rest."

After thousands of years, the Herald could finally close her eyes and rest peacefully for the first time. For the one who would save her from her eternal hell has returned.

The being who had once threatened the Goddess Hyades herself, so much so that she empowered the Dragons to seize his power.

Agos, Titan King, has risen again.