Transmigrating as an Extra, But the Heroine Has Regressed?!-Chapter 312: Nathan’s delivery.

Kael stepped inside Edwin’s private training room and quietly closed the heavy wooden door behind him.

The air inside was humid, and faintly smelled of sweat and iron—typical of a room constantly used by the academy’s top fighters.

The room was larger than the standard practice rooms, almost the size of a small hall.

Weapons lined the walls: spears, practice swords, weighted clubs, dummies, and iron pillars for conditioning.

On the far end stood a thick wooden straw dummy wrapped in rope.

Kael walked toward it.

His footsteps echoed across the polished stone floor.

He touched his stomach where Kaigaku had landed the hit.

His fingers sank into bruised skin.

He winced.

"Did I really... improve my strength?" he muttered to himself.

He clenched his fists—those same fists that had beaten Kaigaku, a second-year rank two, without using a sword.

But something inside still felt uncertain.

"That wasn’t enough," Kael whispered.

He took a stance in front of the wooden dummy. Legs apart. Shoulders squared. Hands steady.

His breathing slowed.

Then—

THUMP.

He punched.

The dummy shook.

Kael narrowed his eyes.

He punched again.

THUMP.

THUD.

This time the rope loosened slightly.

"Again."

THUMP!

A dent formed.

Kael stepped back, sweat trickling down his neck.

"...Still not enough."

His mind drifted back to the demon, the giant one he somehow defeated.

His mind drifted back to the ruined future he came from.

His mind drifted back to the nightmares that still visited him.

"Stronger," he murmured.

Meanwhile — At Sylvia’s Office

Sylvia paced back and forth in her office, carrying a stack of papers when suddenly she froze, eyes widening.

"Oh no..."

Her hand slapped her forehead.

"I forgot to give Kael his sword!"

She groaned loudly, annoyed at herself.

She turned and looked toward the corner where the weapon rested.

Kael’s sword.

A gigantic, pitch-black blade, heavy enough that most students couldn’t lift it with both hands.

The metal had a faint, eerie glow—almost like it was absorbing the light around it.

Sylvia approached it.

She bent down and gripped the handle with one hand.

Nothing.

She used both hands.

"Ughhh—! Why is this damn thing so heavy!?"

After finally lifting it, she slung it over her shoulder like a log.

"This boy..." she muttered.

"...He better appreciate this."

She stepped out of the office and walked through the corridor. It was unusually quiet.

All the first-years had returned to their dorms or were still gossiping elsewhere.

Sylvia reached the courtyard.

She paused.

A group of third-year students lounged near the fountain, laughing and chatting.

Among them stood Nathan—third-year rank one—surrounded by several second-year girls, clearly trying to impress them.

Nathan ran a hand through his hair dramatically.

"And then I told him—if you want to spar with me, bring your entire class—"

"Nathan!"

The girls looked behind him.

Nathan kept talking.

"Nathan!"

Still nothing.

Sylvia finally shouted:

"OYE! NATHAAAAN!"

Nathan jumped like someone stabbed him.

"WHO THE HEL— oh... Madame Sylvia...!"

The girls tried not to laugh.

Sylvia walked toward him, dropping Kael’s giant sword in front of his feet with a thunderous

BOOM.

Nathan flinched.

"I need you to deliver this sword to Kael," Sylvia said casually.

"...Kael? The first year Kael?" Nathan blinked.

"Yes."

Nathan stared blankly at the blade.

Then back at Sylvia.

Then back at the sword.

"That’s... his sword?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes," she replied, dusting her hands. "Thank you."

She walked away without another word.

As soon as she disappeared—

Nathan sighed and grabbed the sword’s hilt.

Or tried to.

"Ahhh— uhh— nghh—!"

It didn’t budge.

The second-year girls giggled.

Nathan’s face turned red.

(Oh great... embarrassing myself in front of girls again...)

He wiped sweat off his forehead and tried again with both hands.

"HAAAHHH—!!"

The sword finally lifted—barely.

He shook from head to toe like a leaf in the wind.

"...d-damn this is heavy..." he muttered.

The girls clapped awkwardly.

Nathan forced a smile.

(Kael... just you wait... carrying this stupid sword because of you!)

He staggered out of the courtyard, nearly tripping over his own feet as he carried the monster blade.

Nathan wandered into the academic wing, still sweating like a waterfall.

He stopped at the Orwen class hallway and spotted a few first-years heading toward the dorms.

"HEY! GUYS—" he yelled, voice cracking slightly because of exhaustion.

"Huh? Oh... hi senior Nathan!" one of them waved.

Nathan puffed out his cheeks.

"Do you... pant... know where... pant... Kael is?"

One of the first-years nodded.

"I heard he was training at Edwin’s personal training room."

"...And where the hell is that?" Nathan snapped, already irritated.

A student raised his hand awkwardly.

"I-I can guide you there, senior."

"Good."

Nathan followed him through the long hallways, careful not to drop Kael’s oversized sword.

Finally, they turned a corner and approached a corridor separated from the others, the walls lined with heavy metal doors.

Only top-performing students were allowed personal rooms like these.

As they neared Edwin’s room—

The walls shook.

BOOOOOOMMM

The ground trembled slightly beneath them.

All four students froze.

Another BOOM sounded.

Then a third.

"W-Was that inside?" one first-year whispered, eyes wide.

Nathan swallowed hard.

"...Yeah.I think so."

He forced himself to step forward.

"...That damn kid is doing WHAT in there?"

Inside Edwin’s Personal Training Room.

Kael stood in the center of the room, breathing heavily but steadily.

The wooden dummy in front of him was destroyed. Splintered. Its upper half snapped clean off and thrown halfway across the room from the impact.

Kael was not slowing down.

His fists glowed faintly with the residue of force.

His muscles tightened every time he exhaled.

He took a step toward the iron pillar next to him.

It stood twelve feet tall, thick as a tree trunk, made of reinforced steel.

Kael placed his fist against it.

He inhaled deeply.

"...Again."

He punched—

BOOOOOM!

The pillar shook violently.

He punched again.

BOOM!

Dust fell from the ceiling.

His knuckles cried in pain, but Kael didn’t stop.

He remembered Kaigaku calling him a weak first-year.

He remembered the giant demon towering over him.

He punched harder.

BOOOOOOM!

"...Stronger," he breathed.

Again.

BOOM!!

And again.

BOOOOOM!!!

Sweat dripped down his jawline. But his stamina didn’t drop—his Ashen Core pulsed inside him like a heartbeat of pure fire.

Nathan and the first-year students stood stiffly in front of the training room door.

"L-Lord above... what kind of training is that...?" one first-year muttered.

Nathan stared at the door in disbelief.

He whispered:

"...Kael, what ARE you?"

Another BOOM shook the floor.

Nathan nearly lost his grip on the sword.

"Okay—I’m going in," he said, trying to sound brave but looking like a terrified squirrel.

He walked forward—

Slowly.

The first-years followed him cautiously.

Nathan placed his hand on the doorknob.

He swallowed.

"Kael... you better not kill me."

He opened the door—

Inside

Kael didn’t turn around.

He didn’t notice them.

He was too focused.

Sweat dripped down his arms. His back muscles were trembling. His fists were a blur.

BOOM.

BOOM.

BOOM.

The iron pillar now had a fist-shaped dent in it.

And Kael was still hitting it.

"N-No way..." Nathan whispered, voice trembling.

One first-year covered his mouth.

"He’s... insane..."

Another whispered:

"No... he’s a monster..."

Kael finally paused and exhaled deeply.

His chest rose and fell.

He looked at his own trembling hands.

"...I improved," he whispered.

Then he turned around—

And froze.

Nathan froze.

First-years froze.

Everyone stared at each other awkwardly.

Kael blinked.

"...Uh."

Nathan cleared his throat and tried to act like he hadn’t been scared to death.

"Hey, uh—Kael. This is yours."

He lifted the sword.

Or tried to.

He stumbled and nearly fell, but Kael rushed forward and grabbed it effortlessly with one hand.

Nathan’s jaw dropped.

(He... lifted it... like a stick...)

Kael nodded politely.

"Thanks."

Nathan stared at him.

"...How... heavy is this sword...?"

Kael thought for a moment.

"I don’t know. Feels normal."

Nathan’s soul left his body.

"Can I try swinging into it?" Nathan asked, still panting slightly from carrying the sword all the way here.

His palms were slippery with sweat, and he wiped them on his uniform before looking at Kael again.

Kael blinked. "Uh... sure."

He gently set the sword on the ground.

BOOM.

The floor trembled under its weight, and Nathan flinched.

Even the first-year students near the door gulped, exchanging nervous whispers.

Nathan bent down, gripped the sword with both hands, adjusted his footing, and tried to lift.

His arms shook instantly.

"Aghh—! Damn... this thing is... heavy!"

He managed to raise it a few inches off the ground, veins bulging on his forehead, face turning red.

The sword wobbled. Nathan let out a strained groan and forced it up to waist height.

"H...haa... okay... now... swing!"

He twisted his body and attempted to swing at the wooden straw dummy in front of him.

The blade moved.

Slowly.

It barely tapped the straw.

Thud.

Nathan froze mid-swing.

"That’s it?" one of the first-years whispered in disbelief.

Nathan’s face darkened. "It’s... harder than it looks, okay!?"

Kael scratched his cheek awkwardly. "Senior... can I try?"

Nathan sighed and handed the sword back.

"Go ahead. Show me how you did it earlier because I swear this thing feels like lifting a boulder covered in iron."

Kael nodded. He reached down casually—too casually.

With one hand, he gripped the sword’s hilt.

Then—

Schhhk—

He lifted it effortlessly. Like it weighed nothing more than a wooden stick. Nathan’s jaw dropped.

The first-years whispered.

"No way... one hand?"

"Is he cheating?"

"Is he using mana?"