Transmigrating as an Extra, But the Heroine Has Regressed?!-Chapter 324: Time and Tide, waits for no man.

Elysia's hand shivered as she tried to lift Kael's face toward her.

His blood had dried across his cheek, stretching into brittle flakes as his eyes fluttered halfway open.

"Kael… focus on me," she whispered.

He tried.

But he failed.

His head dipped again, breath rattling with exhaustion.

Elysia clenched her teeth. "Stay awake. Just a little longer."

But she didn't get the chance.

Because a slow, deliberate set of footsteps echoed behind them.

Footsteps Elysia recognized.

"Aww," Ethan's voice drawled mockingly, "how touching."

Elysia froze.

Kael blinked sluggishly, trying to lift his head.

Ethan stepped out from between two collapsed stalls, brushing dust off his sleeves, expression twisted into a sharp.

His third-years spread out behind him—five silhouettes in total.

Elysia rose immediately.

"Ethan," she said.

"I told you to leave."

"I did." Ethan smirked wider. "But then I changed my mind."

Elysia stepped forward, shielding Kael with her entire body. "I won't warn you again."

"Oh?" Ethan tilted his head. "And what exactly are you going to do?"

Before she could answer, he lifted his hand and pointed lazily at Kael.

"That drunk idiot looked me in the eyes like he was my equal."

His smile sharpened.

"And you told me to leave."

His mana flared—a hard, blinding surge of blue.

Elysia responded instantly. Silver light expanded around her like a sphere, illuminating the broken street.

Ethan's voice lowered.

"That's why I'm pissed."

He snapped his fingers.

"Boys."

The third-years burst forward.

Elysia barely had time to shove Kael sideways.

"Move!" she shouted.

Kael hit the ground with a groan, vision shaking, unable to even lift an arm.

The attackers reached Elysia in seconds.

Elysia met them head-on.

A palm strike of condensed silver light cracked into the chest of the first third-year, sending him flying backward.

Her heel spun in a vicious circle, kicking another in the jaw.

Her knee slammed into a third's stomach.

Three fell instantly.

The remaining two hesitated.

Ethan laughed. "Not bad. But let's see how long you last with him lying there."

He flicked his hand—and the two remaining third-years rushed her at once.

Elysia struck one in the ribs.

The second punched her in the shoulder.

Her body twisted from the impact, and she slid across the dirt, skidding to a stop only a meter from Kael.

"Elysia—" Kael rasped.

She didn't look back.

Her eyes stayed forward.

"Don't get up," she whispered.

"Just breathe."

Then she pushed off the ground.

Silver light erupted beneath her feet, propelling her forward again.

Her hand glowed white-hot—

—but Ethan raised his palm lazily.

BLUE LIGHT ERUPTED.

The shockwave threw Elysia across the street like a doll.

She crashed into a vendor's stall. Wood exploded outward. Dust blasted up.

"Elysia—!!" Kael tried to scream, but only a cracked whisper escaped.

He tried to crawl.

He made it two inches.

His arms buckled.

His cheek pressed into the cold stone again.

His vision darkened.

But he stayed awake.

Ethan waved his third-years aside.

"No. I'll finish this myself."

The third-years backed off immediately, giving him room.

Elysia staggered out of the debris, face smeared with dirt, hair falling from its tie. Blood trickled down her arm.

But her eyes…

…were still sharp.

"You need numbers to fight two half-dead first-years?" she said.

Ethan shrugged.

"Only one of you matters."

His gaze drifted to Kael.

Kael couldn't lift his head.

He couldn't lift anything.

But he heard.

He knew.

Elysia moved before Ethan did.

She appeared in front of him, leg extended in a rapid kick.

Ethan caught her ankle with two fingers.

Her eyes widened.

He twisted—

A sickening crack echoed.

Elysia gasped and collapsed.

Kael's heart froze.

Ethan grabbed Elysia by the front of her shirt, lifted her with one hand, and slammed her into the ground.

Her scream tore through the night.

Kael convulsed—trying, trying desperately to get up.

He couldn't.

His body ignored him.

Ethan placed a foot on Elysia's stomach. Her body jerked from the pressure.

"Look at him," Ethan said, voice dripping with contempt.

"Your little stray dog can't even bark."

Elysia reached weakly for his foot—

He kicked her.

Her body rolled three times before stopping near Kael.

She coughed blood.

Kael crawled one inch closer.

"E…lysia…"

Her hand twitched toward him.

"Stay… down…" she whispered.

Ethan walked toward them slowly.

The night around them was dead quiet.

Even the embers of destroyed stalls had burned out.

Ethan stood over both of them.

"Pathetic," he said.

Then he stomped on Elysia's back.

Her cry choked into silence as she collapsed.

Kael's eyes widened.

He reached for Ethan's ankle—

But Ethan kicked Kael's arm away like swatting a fly.

"You're not even worth the effort," he said, voice growing colder.

He crouched in front of Kael.

"And yet… somehow you make me angrier than anyone else."

Kael's body trembled.

Ethan's fingers glowed blue.

A spell circled his hand.

"I'll make sure you remember this."

He slammed his palm into Kael's chest.

BOOOOM—!!

Kael's body lifted off the ground and crashed onto the stones several meters away.

For a moment, Kael didn't breathe.

A long, horrifying moment.

Then—

A thin inhale.

Ethan stood over him.

Only contempt.

He leaned down.

"Next time you even look at me wrong… I'll break more than your ribs."

He stood, dusted his hands, and walked away.

The third-years followed.

Five silhouettes disappeared into the night, leaving Kael and Elysia broken on the cold stone.

Their blood pooled together between them.

The street grew silent again.

MORNING

Elysia woke first.

Barely.

Her body screamed with every breath.

Her ankle throbbed. Her ribs felt fractured. Her arms trembled uncontrollably.

The first thing she saw—

Kael, lying a short distance away.

Unmoving.

"Kael…" she whispered.

She tried to crawl to him.

Her body collapsed halfway.

She coughed blood.

A few early festival workers noticed movement among the rubble.

A woman gasped. "Someone's there!"

A group rushed forward.

They froze when they saw the uniforms.

"Arcadia Academy?" one man whispered.

"They're academy students!"

"A girl—she's badly hurt!"

"Quick! Help her!"

Hands rushed toward Elysia, lifting her gently.

She didn't resist.

She couldn't.

Her eyes were on Kael.

"Wait… Kael…!" she breathed weakly.

But no one listened.

"She needs medical attention!"

"Don't worry, girl, we've got you!"

"But— Kael—"

"Forget him, he's not moving! Someone will check later!"

"Take care of the girl first!"

Elysia tried to reach out.

Her fingers barely lifted.

"Kael…"

Her voice faded.

She passed out again.

And Kael…

Kael was left on the street.

EVENING

Most people had cleaned up the street by then.

No one dared approach the unconscious boy in the blackened uniform.

Rumors spread.

"Maybe he's drunk."

"Those academy uniforms… better not touch him."

Hours passed.

A cold wind rolled down the stone road.

Kael's fingers twitched.

A shallow breath escaped his lips.

Another.

His eyelids fluttered.

Slowly… he woke.

His entire body felt like shattered iron.

A stabbing ache spread through his chest, sharper when he inhaled. His ribs were definitely fractured. His arm burned. His legs felt numb.

But he was alive.

He pushed himself onto one elbow.

The world spun violently.

He tasted blood.

His ears rang.

His knees folded—but he forced them straight again.

He had no idea how long it had been.

He had no strength.

But he stood.

He swayed.

He fell.

He stood again.

One step.

Another.

The street blurred around him.

Every heartbeat was hammered.

But he kept walking.

The sun dipped low, painting the street in orange.

Kael limped toward the gate of Arcadia Academy.

Dragging his broken body behind him.

Alone.

Kael pushed the dormitory door open with his shoulder.

His legs felt like brittle sticks—each step stabbed through his bones—but he forced himself inside.

The familiar scent of old wood and faint incense greeted him, the kind the academy maids used every morning. The room was dim, the sunset leaking through the window like weak fire.

But something on his bed made him pause.

His sword.

He didn't remember leaving it like that. He'd dropped it before the festival… "so how did it get here?"

He reached out with trembling fingers and brushed the hilt.

For a long moment, Kael simply stood there, shoulders rising and falling with ragged breaths.

His entire torso felt like it had been smashed with hammers. Dried blood tugged at his skin each time he inhaled. His ribs throbbed with every heartbeat.

He smelled horrible—blood, dirt, vomit, and smoke.

"…I need to clean up," he muttered weakly.

He left the sword where it was and dragged himself toward the private washroom. When he stepped inside, the mirror showed a ghost of a person—bruised, eyes swollen, lip split, neck marked with boot imprints.

He turned the water on.

Cold.

It hit his skin like needles, shocking breath from his lungs. Blood pooled at his feet in red swirls, mixing with dirt, forming spirals around the drain.

He scrubbed at the dried patches, wincing whenever his fingers brushed a bruise.

Minutes passed.

Maybe longer.

He didn't keep track.

When he finally stepped out of the bath, steam rose in faint wisps around him. He dried himself slowly, each movement stiff, careful.

He dressed in fresh academy clothes—simple, clean, loose enough not to irritate his injuries. He wrapped a cloth around his ribcage for support.

Then he stood before the mirror again.

Awake enough to keep moving.

He walked back to his bed, picked up his sword, and sheathed it with a soft click.

His eyes drifted toward the corridor.

There was only one place he needed to go for now.

The Ice Chamber.