Chapter 203: Chapter 203 – Conflicts in Unity!

The desert stretched endlessly beneath the blazing sun, its golden waves now broken by the thunder of footsteps. From every direction, streams of students converged on Luca’s location—dust clouds rising behind them like banners of war. At the very front, a golden-haired boy marched with unwavering resolve, Excalibur gleaming in his hand as if it carried the light of hope itself.

Eric’s booming laughter rang out, unable to be contained.

“Woahhhhh! Now that’s a scene to remember, isn’t it?!”

Selena’s cold eyes softened, her lips parting slightly as she let out a quiet breath. The Saintess pressed her hands together with shining reverence, her face glowing with pride. Even Big Bull, usually too blunt for words, had eyes glistening like molten steel.

Luca’s gaze swept across the horizon, taking it all in. The sight burned itself into his memory. Even in the game… there were only a handful of scenes that could compare to this. He chuckled under his breath, the weight of it pressing on his chest.

“Get ready, everyone,” he said, voice low but steady. “We’re at war.”

The dust parted as Aiden finally arrived, Kyle and Lilliane close behind. His golden eyes locked with Luca’s—The Protagonists and an Extra’s meeting in the moment history demanded.

“We are all in this together!” Aiden declared, his voice carrying like a battle horn across the desert.

Luca nodded, stepping forward. Their hands clasped firmly, the handshake echoing louder than words. For an instant, the world itself seemed to still.

“Oi, don’t forget about me!” Kyle cut in with a smirk, elbowing his way forward.

The tension broke, and the three burst out laughing, their bond radiating like an unshakable pillar amid the chaos.

Meanwhile, off to the side, another kind of clash brewed—silent, sharp, and dangerous. Lilliane’s emerald eyes glared at Selena with a hostility that could cut steel. Selena’s amethyst gaze met hers, cold, unyielding, but tinged with something unspoken. The air between them crackled with sparks invisible to the rest.

The Saintess, ever perceptive, covered her mouth with a hand, amusement twinkling in her eyes. “Oh my…” she whispered to herself, utterly entertained.

By now, hundreds had gathered, their figures dotting the desert in every direction. Luca scanned the crowd, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. Not all of them… but more than I expected.

“So what now?” Kyle asked, folding his arms, that ever-present grin tugging at his lips.

Before Luca could reply, a loud commotion erupted from the left flank.

“Are you blind?! We killed twice as many cultists as you weaklings!” one student roared, his sword still dripping with blood.

“Ha! In your dreams—you couldn’t even finish off a single one without our team backing you up!” another group shouted back, their leader stepping forward with a sneer.

The two groups crashed into each other, shoving, shouting, blades half-drawn as if ready to spill blood—not against cultists, but each other.

Dust rose violently, voices overlapping in arrogance and fury.

“Pathetic!”

“Try proving it then!”

“You’re nothing compared to us!”

The crowd began to ripple with unease, the atmosphere tightening like a bowstring about to snap.

Luca’s eyes hardened as he stepped forward, his presence cutting through the chaos like a blade.

The shouts on the left flank grew louder, drowning out the desert wind. What began as two teams barking at each other quickly turned into something uglier.

“You dare say you’re stronger than us?!” one boy spat, his cracked knuckles tightening around his spear. “We’ve already slain thirty cultists, while you lot barely scraped by!”

“Thirty? Ha! We killed forty!” another sneered, his sword raised as if daring the other side to challenge him. “Stop trying to inflate your numbers, weaklings!”

The two leaders shoved each other, and in an instant, their teammates surged forward—pushing, shouting, some even swinging fists.

“Don’t think you’re better than us!”

“You’re all cowards hiding behind numbers!”

“At least we don’t need babysitting like your pathetic group!”

The crowd around them began to stir uneasily. Murmurs spread like wildfire, whispers turning sharp and venomous.

“…they really think they’re stronger than us?”

“Why are we listening to them at all?”

“Maybe we should split. We’d be faster on our own.”

“Yeah, why waste our effort protecting weaker teams?”

Every voice added fuel to the fire, tension bleeding into every group. Even students who had marched here with hope in their eyes now began glaring at their neighbors with suspicion. The great army Luca had envisioned—hundreds united—was fracturing before his eyes, little cracks forming that threatened to split it apart entirely.

Luca’s jaw tightened as he listened. He didn’t move immediately, only staring at the students tearing each other apart with bitter words and clenched fists. His thoughts weighed heavy.

This won’t do… They’re still young. Too much pride, too much competition. Competition has its place—but not here. Not when the enemy thrives on division. Every second they fight each other is another second the cultists win.

He let out a quiet sigh, his hand brushing over his bracelet as if to steady himself.

At that moment, soft footsteps approached. The Saintess stood beside him, her white robes glowing faintly under the desert sun, a strange calmness in her expression despite the chaos unfolding before them. Her silver eyes lingered on him, sharp yet curious.

“So…” she spoke gently, her voice cutting through the noise just for him. “How are we going to deal with this?”

The argument boiled over. Shouts turned to roars, fists to weapons.

Steel rasped against scabbards. Sparks of mana danced across fingertips. Two hot-headed leaders broke from the crowd, eyes blazing with fury as they charged toward each other, weapons raised high.

“Come on then! Let’s see who’s better!”

“I’ll cut you down where you stand!”

Gasps rippled through the gathered students as the clash was about to erupt—until two shadows blurred past them like lightning.

BOOM!

Sand exploded into the air as Luca and Aiden appeared between the two attackers. Their strikes—precise, controlled, yet overwhelming—sent both hot-heads flying back, tumbling across the sand. They hit the ground hard but unharmed, only their pride bruised. The sheer difference in speed left the surrounding students wide-eyed and silent.

Aiden turned first, his golden hair catching the desert light, his voice ringing with a sharp edge of authority.

“Enough!” he barked. “Open your eyes for once. This isn’t about who killed more cultists or who’s stronger. Do you even understand what’s coming for us? The cult doesn’t care how many you’ve slain. They don’t care about your pride. All they want is for us to tear ourselves apart so they can sweep in and finish the job!”

He swept his gaze across the crowd, voice firm but imploring.

“If we keep this up, the weak will be crushed first, and the rest will follow. One by one. Alone, none of us can endure the storm that’s coming. But united…” He clenched his fist, raising it high. “United, we can stand against it. That’s the only way anyone here survives!”

Some students shifted uneasily. A few looked moved, but the two who had clashed spat in defiance as they pushed themselves to their feet.

“Hah! Don’t give me that speech!” one snarled, wiping blood from his lip. “We don’t need your help. My team is strong enough without babysitting anyone!”

The other scoffed, glaring with wild pride. “Why should we lower ourselves to fight beside trash? The weak will only drag us down. Better to let them die and fight on our own!”

Their voices carried, striking chords of doubt in others. Murmurs rose again, rippling through the crowd like poison.

Aiden’s jaw tightened as he stared at them, helplessness flickering in his eyes. He had spoken with all his heart, but still, their pride refused to yield. Their voices grew louder again, drowning out reason.

Luca’s gaze sharpened. The flicker of irritation in his chest burst into something heavier, hotter. Enough was enough.

The ground trembled. His aura exploded outward in a crushing wave, heavy and absolute. Sand whipped violently in every direction, students stumbling back as the weight of his mana pressed down on them like a mountain.

His eyes glowed faintly as he stepped forward, his presence swelling. Then, like a thunderclap splitting the desert sky, his voice ripped through the chaos.

“—SHUT UP!!!”

Dozens of voices went silent at once. Weapons lowered. Even the wind itself seemed to die, leaving only Luca’s voice and his overwhelming presence in the air.

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