The Extra Can't be A Hero

Chapter 336: Leon Bright, Hero of the World (1)

Leon drew in a slow, measured breath—and for the first time since the battle began, he allowed himself to feel.

The power within him was not foreign. Not borrowed. Not bestowed by some higher will.

It was his.

Forged from every trial he had endured, every desire he had refused to abandon, every limit he had shattered through sheer will alone.

Behind him, the lion manifested in full. Majestic. Immense. Silent in its authority. Its golden-lined form shimmered with quiet divinity, while its flowing mane of water moved like an endless tide, each ripple carrying a presence that felt both ancient and newborn.

It did not roar, nor did it bare its fangs.

It didn't need to.

Its very existence declared one truth… Nothing would pass Leon.

And in that moment, understanding settled deep within his soul.

This power was not meant to destroy. It was meant to protect.

Fire surged within him—not as wild destruction, but as the primal force that fueled the world, the spark that drove life forward.

Water followed—not as a raging flood, but as the foundation of existence itself, the quiet current that sustained all things.

Individually, they were fundamental.

Together… They manifested life.

Two pillars that defined humanity.

Creation and continuation. Beginning and endurance. And Leon… Had become their convergence.

"…Damien. Stop."

The voice cut cleanly through the battlefield.

Dante stepped forward, his expression uncharacteristically sharp as he raised his staff, intercepting the path of his brother's advance. His eyes, unlike Damien's, held no arrogance—only clarity.

"He's different now."

Damien clicked his tongue, irritation flashing across his face at being halted mid-charge. His grip tightened around his club, veins pulsing as his demonic aura flared in protest.

"Move."

To him, this was simple. Leon was a prey that had overstayed its welcome. But even through his fury… he felt it. That shift. That quiet, suffocating pressure that Leon now exuded—not explosive like before, not wild like demonic mana—but controlled.

Damien's frown deepened, his instincts warring against his pride.

"Together."

"Now."

Dante's command was quiet—but absolute.

Damien moved without hesitation. The two Apostles lowered their stances in unison, bodies coiling like beasts preparing to strike. Dante raised his staff high, its tip trembling as vast currents of demonic mana surged upward, gathering with terrifying density. Beside him, Damien mirrored the motion, his monstrous frame hunched as corrupted energy flooded through his veins and into his weapon.

Then… Their powers met.

Blue and purple bled into one another, not in chaos, but in eerie harmony. The energies intertwined like dancers in a grand waltz, circling, weaving, complementing each other with unnatural precision. It was beautiful in the most unsettling way—an elegant fusion born from ruin and hatred.

A union few had ever witnessed.

But Leon did not marvel.

His gaze sharpened, blue eyes narrowing as the lion behind him stirred. The divine beast lowered its stance, its presence swelling, its silent authority turning into something far more primal. And when the Apostles reached their peak, they unleashed hell.

The sky tore open as if ripped apart by unseen claws.

The ground beneath them melted, stone collapsing into rivers of magma that churned and spat like a living abyss.

Above, violet lightning and blue mist fused into a raging storm, forming a swarm of electrified clouds that devoured everything they touched.

There was no escape. No refuge. Only annihilation.

And at the centre of it all… Leon.

The tempest descended upon him without mercy, a convergence of destruction meant to erase him from existence itself. Yet, he did not move.

No defensive stance. No desperate charge. He simply stood.

Because he didn't need to.

The lion roared. For the first time, its voice shook the battlefield—a sound that carried not just power, but authority. In response, a barrier bloomed around Leon, seamless and radiant.

The storm struck, but it didn't do any damage.

What should have been devastation dissolved into harmless mist upon contact, the raging tempest reduced to nothing more than scattered fragments of fading energy.

The barrier held firm, unshaken, unyielding—as if the very concept of harm had been rejected outright. Behind it, Leon stood untouched. His seventy-two suns burned brighter than ever, pouring endless reserves of mana into his domain, sustaining his defence with effortless continuity.

Alone, he stood equal to both Apostles combined. And that was enough to change everything.

Dante's expression darkened, the clarity in his eyes sharpening into cold realisation.

"We need more power."

Damien's lips curled into a savage grin, his laughter low and menacing as his grip tightened.

"Then I will enact my vengeance."

Dante's voice followed, steady and resolute, as his staff pulsed once more with gathering force.

"And I… will preach thy gospel."

As the Apostles of Vengeance, they were the premier preachers of the Gospel of Vengeance. As long as they had a target of revenge, they could tap into the limitless energies of the Demon Realm to empower their attacks. And right now, their target of revenge was standing right before their eyes.

Demonic mana surged through their veins like a torrent that couldn't be controlled.

It consumed them. Bone twisted. Flesh warped.

The very shape of their existence began to unravel as something far more ancient and monstrous forced its way to the surface.

Damien was the first to break. His body expanded violently, muscles tearing and reforming as he grew—larger, broader—until he towered at nearly ten meters in height. His face split and reshaped into something inhuman, four glowing eyes opening in jagged symmetry while six horns curved upward like a grotesque crown of dominion.

Spines erupted from his back, each one pulsing with raw, violent energy, and behind him, a thick, scaled tail lashed against the ground, cracking stone with every movement. He was no longer a man. He was devastation given form.

Beside him, Dante ascended.

His transformation was more controlled—more refined—but no less terrifying. His frame grew taller, leaner, his presence sharpening into something cold and absolute. Six eyes opened across his face, each one glowing with a calculating, unnatural light.

From his back unfurled a pair of vast wings, wreathed not in flame, but in a flowing blue mist that burned like cold fire, shifting and coiling as though alive.

If Damien was chaos, Dante was judgment.

One stood as a devil incarnate, a creature of pure destruction.

The other… as something eerily divine, a devil draped in the illusion of higher purpose.

Different in form. Opposite in presence.

Yet bound by one undeniable truth… The demonic mana pouring from them was overwhelming.

It flooded the battlefield, crushing everything beneath its weight, distorting the air, suffocating all who stood too close. Compared to before, their previous power felt insignificant—like a mere prelude to what they had now become.

This… Was their final form.

"Congrats, you managed to force us into this state."

Dante unfurled his devil wings while pointing his staff down like a deity about to pass judgment.

"You're dead!"

Damien slapped his tail on the ground, shaking it as he roared.

"You really think you can beat me because you grew some appendages?"

Leon scoffed before pointing Ascalon at the twin demonic humans. Flames gathered in Ascalon's tip as the divine lion surged in strength. At the same time, Leon's seventy-two suns churned rapidly, condensing as much power as they could for Leon's resurgence. And then, the sun appeared.

"Dawn."

The divine lion merged with Leon's seventy-two suns to create a new dawn. One that wasn't used as an offence or defensive ability… but one that illuminated the world.

A true new dawn.

The second coming of the Sun.

Beneath his feet, it seemed like the oceans rose as Leon, Dante and Damien were transported into another world. Isolated from the material plane to prevent any unnecessary or collateral damage, Leon welcomed the two Apostles into his domain.

"... this is."

"A mirror dimension?"

Dante and Damien lifted their gaze to the blackened sky… and saw it.

A white-gold lion prowling across the heavens, its colossal form gliding as if the sky itself were its domain. Its mane flowed like an endless ocean, each ripple carrying a weight that bent the air and stilled the storm.

The moment their eyes met its golden gaze, something stirred within them—something buried deeper than thought, deeper than instinct.

Fear.

Primal. Unspoken. Absolute.

It clawed its way up from the depths of their being, a truth etched into their very existence—a warning they could neither deny nor silence.

Then, Leon descended.

From the fractured sky, he stepped forward, wreathed in radiance and tide. Behind him, seventy-two blazing suns burned in perfect formation, their light unwavering, their heat immeasurable. Alongside them, seventy-two spheres of water revolved in silent harmony, each one vast, dense—as though entire oceans had been compressed into perfect, floating orbs.

Orbiting him like celestial bodies around a singular will.

The battlefield changed instantly. Pressure crashed down upon the twin Apostles, invisible yet undeniable. Their transformed bodies groaned under its weight, their overwhelming demonic mana suddenly… resisted.

As if the very world had chosen a side—and it was not theirs.

And that's when they realised… They were not executioners. They were moths flying far too close to the flame.