I am just an NPC ,but I rewrite the story-Chapter 34 - []

"Let’s crash a party."

The servants’ entrance was less a door and more a hole in the wall designed to shuttle food in and garbage out without the nobles having to smell either. I slipped through just as a harried-looking scullery maid kicked the door open with her hip, balancing a tower of dirty plates.

"Watch it, you lout!" she snapped, not even looking at my face. "More wine for the High Table! Move!"

"Right, wine. On it," I mumbled, ducking my head.

I stepped into the kitchen. It was a chaotic inferno of steam, shouting chefs, and roasting meats. It was perfect. Nobody notices a dirty face when everyone is covered in soot and flour.

I grabbed a clean-ish apron hanging on a hook and tied it over my rough tunic. I smoothed my hair back.

Role: Harried Waiter.

Level: 1.

Skill: Bumping into people strategically.

I grabbed a silver tray loaded with crystal flutes of something bubbly and pink. It smelled like strawberries and money.

"You! New guy!" a fat chef shouted, pointing a ladle at me. "Table 4 is empty! Go!"

"Yes, Chef," I said, pushing through the swinging double doors before he could ask who hired me.

The transition from the kitchen to the ballroom was like stepping from a furnace into a freezer. The air conditioning—powered by ice mana crystals embedded in the ceiling—was set to ’aristocratic chill.’

The ballroom was vast, dripping with gold leaf and velvet. A string quartet played in the corner, struggling to be heard over the roar of a hundred nobles gossiping, laughing, and ignoring the war outside their walls.

I moved through the crowd, offering drinks.

"Champagne? Berry fizz?"

I scanned the room.

Target: Elena Thorne.

Age: 16.

Status: Plot Device.

I found her near the main dais. She was sitting on a velvet chair, looking bored and slightly pale. She wore a dress that probably cost more than my entire village.

And in her hands, she clutched a small, black box.

She wasn’t wearing the Void Seed yet. She was holding it, running her thumb over the velvet lid.

Good, I thought. She hasn’t put it on. If she puts it on, the mana fuses with her skin.

I moved closer.

Then, the boom happened.

BOOM.

The front gates of the mansion shook. A roar echoed from the courtyard.

"What was that?" a noble gasped, dropping his monocle.

"Thunder?" someone suggested nervously.

CRASH.

The sound of screeching metal tore through the air.

"That wasn’t thunder," I whispered. "That was Kaelen knocking."

The doors to the ballroom burst open. A breathless guard stumbled in.

"Intruder!" the guard screamed. "At the gate! He’s... he’s tearing through the perimeter!"

Panic. Instant and chaotic. The nobles shrieked. The music stopped.

"Stay calm!" Governor Thorne—a man with a face like a bulldog—shouted from the dais. "Guards! Protect the guests! Secure the exits!"

Half the guards in the room rushed toward the main doors.

This was my window.

While everyone looked at the door, I walked straight to Elena.

She hadn’t moved. She was staring at the black box, her hands trembling. The fear in the room... the Seed was feeding on it. I could see faint purple wisps of smoke curling up from the box.

"Excuse me, My Lady," I said, stepping in front of her to block her view of the panic.

She looked up, startled. "What? Who are you?"

"Just a servant," I said, keeping my voice low and calm. "Your father sent me. He said the secure bunker is ready, but you can’t take personal items. Magic interferes with the wards."

It was a lie I pulled out of thin air, banking on the fact that rich people always had panic rooms and arbitrary rules.

"The bunker?" Elena blinked. "But... this was a gift. From the nice man in the grey cloak."

Grey cloak. Iron Covenant.

"I know," I said, reaching for the box on the tray. "I’ll keep it safe. Put it in the vault. Quick now, before the intruder gets here."

Elena hesitated. Her fingers tightened on the box. The purple smoke curled around her wrist like a bracelet.

It’s bonding, I realized. It wants to stay.

"Please," I said, putting urgency into my voice. "My Lady, look at them."

I gestured to the screaming crowd.

"Do you want to be safe, or do you want to hold a rock?"

She looked at the chaos. A chandelier swayed dangerously as another explosion rocked the house.

She let go.

I grabbed the box and dropped it onto my tray, covering it with a napkin.

"Go," I said. "Run to your father."

Elena stood up and ran toward the dais.

I turned and walked fast toward the kitchen.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The box was vibrating on the tray. It felt heavy, like I was carrying a lead weight.

I reached the kitchen doors.

Kick.

I burst through. The kitchen staff had fled. The ovens were still burning.

I threw the tray on a prep table. I ripped the napkin off.

The black box had popped open. Inside sat a gemstone the size of a walnut. It wasn’t sparkling. It was a matte, light-absorbing black void.

[Item: Void Seed (Active)]

[Timer: 00:05:00]

[Trigger: Fear Saturation reaches 100%]

"Five minutes," I muttered. "Kaelen is doing too good of a job scaring people."

I needed to neutralize it. In the game/story, Void Seeds are unstable mana constructs. You can’t just smash them; they explode. You have to starve them.

"Mana vacuum," I whispered, looking around the kitchen. "I need something that absorbs magic."

My eyes landed on a barrel in the corner. It was marked with a red X. Salted Pork.

"Salt," I said. "Salt grounds mana."

I ran to the barrel. I ripped the lid off. It was full of coarse rock salt and curing meat. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

I grabbed the Void Seed—carefully, using a pair of iron tongs—and shoved it deep into the salt barrel.

Hiss.

The salt around the gem turned black instantly, but the vibration stopped. The purple smoke dissipated.

"Science," I panted. "Sort of."

I grabbed the barrel. It weighed fifty pounds.

"Ren!"

The kitchen door to the outside—the servants’ entrance—slammed open.

Kaelen stood there. He was breathing hard. His black cloak was shredded, and there was a cut on his cheek, but his sword was clean. He hadn’t killed anyone. He’d just... dismantled them.

"Did you get it?" Kaelen asked, scanning the room.

"It’s in the pork," I said, patting the barrel.

Kaelen blinked. "The pork?"

"Salt neutralizes the reaction. Help me carry this. We need to dump it in the river."

Kaelen sheathed his sword and grabbed the barrel. He lifted it like it was empty.

"We have to move," Kaelen said. "I drew the guards away, but the Elite Squad is coming. I felt their signatures."

"Elite Squad?" I froze. "Here?"

"Valen’s personal enforcers. They teleported in. We have maybe two minutes before this place is swarming with Level 50s."

We ran out the back door into the cool night air.

The alley was dark. We sprinted toward the river that ran behind the Governor’s estate.

"If we throw it in the river," Kaelen grunted, running easily with the barrel, "won’t it poison the water?"

"Better the fish than the town," I said. "Saltwater dilutes the Void. It’ll just make the frogs weird for a few years."

We reached the stone embankment. The river rushed below, swollen from the rains.

"On three," I said.

"One. Two—"

A beam of blinding white light struck the ground between us.

BOOM.

The impact knocked me off my feet. I slammed into a brick wall, the air leaving my lungs.

Kaelen slid backward, dropping the barrel. It rolled, hitting the edge of the embankment but not falling in.

"Hold," a voice commanded.

It was a woman’s voice. Cold. Authoritative. Amplified by magic.

I looked up through the dust.

Standing on the roof of the warehouse opposite us was a figure in shining silver armor. She wore a white cape that billowed in the wind. Her helmet was off, revealing long, golden hair and eyes that burned with blue fire.

[Target: Lysandra Lightbringer]

[Class: Knight Commander]

[Level: 55]

[Affiliation: Royal Guard (Loyalist)]

She leaped down, landing softly between us and the barrel. She raised her rapier. It wasn’t the ceremonial blade from the tournament. It was Oathkeeper, a legendary sword that cut through lies and dark magic.

"Kaelen," Lysandra said. Her voice wasn’t angry. It was disappointed. "I knew you would come back. A murderer always returns to the scene of the crime."

Kaelen stood up slowly. He didn’t draw his sword. He looked at her with an expression I couldn’t quite read. Sadness? Regret?

"I didn’t kill those people, Lysandra," Kaelen said quietly.

"I saw the ashes," she retorted, stepping forward. The tip of her sword hovered inches from his chest. "I saw the villages in the East. Don’t lie to me. You let the Darkness win."

"He’s saving the town!" I shouted, struggling to stand up. My ribs were screaming. "That barrel! It’s a bomb! A Void Seed!"

Lysandra’s eyes flicked to me. She frowned.

"And who is this?" she asked Kaelen. "A new recruit? Another soul to corrupt?"

"He’s a nobody," Kaelen said quickly, stepping between me and her. "Let him go. This is between us."

"Nobody leaves," Lysandra said. She raised her left hand.

"Cage of Light."

Beams of solid light erupted from the ground, forming a circle around us. We were trapped.

"The Void Seed is active!" I yelled, pointing at the barrel. "Look at it! The salt is turning black!"

Lysandra glanced at the barrel. She saw the black rot spreading through the wood. Her eyes widened. As a Paladin, she recognized dark magic.

"What have you done?" she whispered.

"We didn’t plant it," Kaelen said. "We stole it. From the Governor’s house. To stop it."

"Lies," a new voice sneered.

From the shadows of the alley, more figures emerged. Grey armor. Broken chain symbols.

The Iron Covenant.

And leading them was a man I recognized from the book, but hadn’t met yet in this timeline.

[Target: Inquisitor Marek]

[Level: 48]

[Role: The Cleaner]

"Commander Lysandra," Marek said, walking forward with a smirk. "Excellent work trapping the terrorists. We’ll take it from here."

He gestured to his men. "Secure the barrel. It’s... evidence."

Lysandra looked at Marek. Then at the barrel. Then at Kaelen.

She wasn’t stupid. She saw the Covenant soldiers moving toward the bomb not with fear, but with purpose. They wanted to retrieve it.

"Stand down, Inquisitor," Lysandra said, shifting her stance so she was facing both Kaelen and Marek. "This object radiates Abyss mana. It is under Royal Guard jurisdiction."

"The King granted the Covenant emergency powers," Marek spat. "Hand over the prisoner and the device."

"No," Lysandra said.

Marek sighed. "I was afraid you’d say that."

He snapped his fingers.

The Covenant soldiers didn’t attack Kaelen. They attacked Lysandra.

Bolts of crossbow fire—tipped with null-iron—flew at her.

"Shield!" Lysandra shouted. A golden barrier sprang up, deflecting the bolts.

"Ren!" Kaelen yelled. "The barrel! Kick it!"

Kaelen drew his sword—not the admin sword, just his mercenary blade—and charged Marek to buy time.

I was inside the Cage of Light with the barrel. Lysandra’s shield was taking a pounding.

I ran to the barrel.

It was heavy. I couldn’t lift it.

[Void Seed Status: Critical.]

[Salt Saturation: Failing.]

[Detonation in: 10 Seconds.]

"It’s gonna blow!" I screamed.

I looked at the river. It was ten feet away, through the bars of light.

I looked at Lysandra. She was busy fighting six guys.

I looked at my hand.

I had no powers. No Kinetic Redirect. No Gravity.

But I had physics.

I grabbed a loose cobblestone from the alley floor. I jammed it under the barrel to create a wedge.

I stepped back.

I ran and kicked the wedge.

The barrel tipped. It rolled. It hit the bars of light.

The bars sizzled, but held.

"Lysandra! Drop the cage!" I yelled. "Or we all die!"

Lysandra risked a glance back. She saw the barrel glowing purple. She saw the panic in my eyes.

She made a choice.

She snapped her fingers. The cage vanished.

The barrel rolled off the edge.

SPLASH.

It hit the water. It sank.

Three seconds later...

WHUMP.

A muffled explosion underwater. A geyser of black water shot fifty feet into the air, raining down dead fish and sludge.

But the town didn’t explode. The shockwave was absorbed by the river.

Silence fell over the alley.

Marek looked at the river. Then he looked at us with pure hatred.

"Kill them all," Marek ordered. "The Paladin too. She’s compromised."

Lysandra stood there, dripping wet from the geyser spray. She looked at the Covenant soldiers attacking her. She looked at Kaelen, who was standing back-to-back with her, defending her from a flank attack.

The narrative had shifted.

"Enemy of my enemy," Kaelen grunted, parrying a sword strike.

"Don’t talk to me," Lysandra snapped, stabbing a soldier in the shoulder. "Just fight."

I scrambled back, looking for a weapon. I found a discarded Covenant spear.

I picked it up.

"Level 1," I muttered. "Let’s grind."

The three of us stood in the alley. The Hero, the Heroine, and the extra. Surrounded by twenty fanatics.

It was a terrible situation.

But as I watched Kaelen and Lysandra fight in perfect sync—Darkness and Light swirling together just like they used to—I couldn’t help but smile.

The squad was getting back together. Even if they wanted to kill each other.

"Hey!" I shouted, pointing the spear at Marek. "You want the Wolf? You have to go through the... uh... the Farmhand first!"

Marek looked at me. He looked confused.

"Kill the farmhand," he sighed.

"Rude," I said, and ducked as a crossbow bolt took my hat off.