The Extra's Rise-Chapter 477: Resurgence (7)

From another entrance, the Jade Phoenix Guard of the Peng family emerged, their robes a vivid green that seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly light. Their movements were synchronized, fluid, and precise, like a river carving its way through stone.

The Guard was led by Feng Peng, the Emerald General, whose age was impossible to determine from his serene features. His long beard, meticulously groomed and adorned with jade beads, flowed over ceremonial armor that appeared to be made from actual feathers—thousands of them, each harder than steel and infused with natural energy.

Unlike the other forces, the Jade Phoenix Guard moved in perfect harmony with their surroundings, their steps causing the very earth to respond. Each member carried a staff topped with a jade orb, containing concentrated life energy capable of healing allies or corrupting enemies.

Then came the Infernal Vanguard of the Gu family, their weapons flickering with flames that cast dancing shadows across the cavern walls. Their arrival was marked by an overwhelming heat, as though they carried the heart of a volcano with them.

Wei Gu, the Ashen Duke, led the Vanguard with the confident stride of a natural destroyer. His bald head was adorned with ritual burn scars that pulsed with inner fire, and instead of traditional armor, he wore robes woven from salamander hide—a material that grew stronger when exposed to flame. A massive war hammer rested across his shoulders, its head perpetually smoldering.

The Infernal Vanguard specialized in area denial tactics, their combined powers capable of rendering entire battlefields uninhabitable through strategic application of persistent flame effects. Each member carried a small brazier at their hip, containing specially prepared coals that could instantly ignite into controlled infernos. Their forty members were quality over quantity, with fifteen Ascendant-rankers and Wei at mid Immortal-rank.

Finally, the Twilight Blade Corps of the Moyong family entered, their dark uniforms giving them an almost spectral appearance. They moved with an eerie grace, their presence sharp and focused, embodying the deadly precision their name carried.

Jaehyun Moyong, father of Seol-ah, led the corps with the solemn dignity that characterized the Moyong bloodline. His face, stern and composed, showed the subtle signs of one who had weathered countless battles through sheer force of will rather than raw power. His black hair, streaked with premature silver, was pulled back in a traditional style that emphasized the sharp angles of his face—features his daughter had inherited in softer form.

The Twilight Blade Corps specialized in assassination and intelligence gathering, their combat style emphasizing precision strikes to vital points rather than overwhelming force. Their sixty members moved like living shadows, with Jaehyun himself at mid Immortal-rank.

But the reinforcements didn’t end with the great families. Smaller but no less influential families rallied behind them, their banners and warriors standing as a testament to the unity humanity could summon in its darkest moments.

And then came the sects.

The Mount Hua Sect entered first, their white robes adorned with plum blossoms. Elder Fang, acting Deputy Sect Leader since Master Li’s departure, strode at their front with the serene confidence of one who had witnessed centuries of conflict. His sword, Cloud Splitter, remained sheathed at his side, but the mere presence of the legendary weapon sent ripples through the supernatural energies of the cavern.

Behind Elder Fang came the six Immortal-rank Masters of Mount Hua.

Following the Masters were the thirty Ascendant-rank Elders, each specializing in different aspects of the sect’s renowned Plum Blossom techniques.

Mount Hua disciples moved with a distinctive rhythm, their steps following patterns based on the Plum Blossom Sword Manual’s foundational principles. Rather than forming rigid ranks, they arranged themselves in a flowing formation that could adapt to changing battlefield conditions with minimal communication.

The Wudang Sect followed, their movements fluid and elegant, like a dance choreographed by the wind. They carried an air of quiet power, their martial artists wielding weapons that gleamed with a tempered calm.

Grandmaster Zhao, the Wudang Patriarch, walked with the balanced gait of a true Taoist cultivator—neither hurried nor delayed, simply moving in perfect harmony with the cosmic rhythm. His plain robes belied his status, the only indication of his position being the ancient wooden token hanging from his sash, carved with the sect’s symbol and said to contain a fragment of the original Wudang founder’s spirit.

Wudang practitioners arranged themselves in a formation resembling the Taiji symbol, their positions constantly shifting in subtle ways that maintained perfect defensive coverage while preparing for offensive opportunities. Their specialty lay in internal energy cultivation, allowing them to fight at peak efficiency for extended periods without exhaustion.

Lastly, the Southern Edge Sect arrived, their steps sharp and deliberate, embodying their reputation for ruthless efficiency. Their leader’s gaze swept the battlefield, calculating and assessing with a precision that was almost mechanical.

Mistress Lin, the Severing Blade, commanded the Southern Edge forces with cold authority. Her sect specialized in decisive strikes designed to end conflicts in the earliest stages, prioritizing efficiency over tradition or honor. Her hair was cropped short in the sect’s utilitarian style, and her clothing, while formally a uniform, showed signs of practical field modifications—extra pouches for specialized weapons, reinforced joints for greater mobility.

Two Immortal-rank Blade Masters flanked her, each carrying a weapon that had achieved near-legendary status.

Seventeen Ascendant-rank Cut Elders formed the tactical command, each specializing in a different aspect of the sect’s notorious execution techniques.

Southern Edge disciples carried a distinctive array of chain-linked weapons that could rapidly transform between different combat configurations based on battlefield needs. Their formation emphasized creating vulnerability in enemy ranks that could be immediately exploited by specialized strike teams.

Together, they filled the cavern, their combined auras pushing back against the oppressive darkness that Caladros exuded. A wave of hope surged through me at the sight—not because I believed we could win, but because humanity had answered the call. We would not face extinction without a fight.

The Vampire Monarch’s eyes scanned the reinforcements, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke. "So, humanity gathers its remnants," he said, his tone dripping with disdain. "Do you think this will change anything?"

"It’s worth trying," Selene shot back, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. Her gaze shifted to Magnus, her grin returning. "Ready to show him what humanity’s remnants can do?"

Magnus hefted his sword, the edges of his aura sharpening like the blade in his hand. "Always."

The two Radiant-rankers moved to stand side by side, their contrasting energies—ice and fire—creating a harmony that somehow amplified both. Behind them, the assembled forces of humanity’s greatest families and sects readied themselves, weapons drawn, formations tightening.

Across the cavern, Caladros raised a hand lazily, and his forces responded with mechanical precision. The Cardinals began a low chant, their voices harmonizing in a language older than recorded history. The Bishops spread out in predetermined patterns, blood magic coalescing around their fingertips. The Priests and Acolytes arranged themselves in concentric circles, creating a living ritual formation.

The Vampire Ancestors drew weapons that hadn’t tasted blood in centuries, their eyes glowing with anticipation. The Elders hissed commands to the Blood Knights, who formed a living wall of darkened steel and crimson crystal. The Fledglings crouched like predators ready to spring, their newly-enhanced instincts making them eager for the coming violence.

Alyssara stepped forward to stand beside Caladros, her crimson threads weaving complex patterns in the air around them both. She caught my eye across the battlefield and smiled—a gesture filled with such certainty that a chill ran down my spine.

For a moment, the cavern was silent, the stillness of a storm waiting to break. The air itself seemed to hold its breath, time slowing to a crawl as two forces—one representing humanity’s hope, the other its extinction—prepared to clash.

I gripped my sword tighter, feeling the weight of everything that had led to this moment. Every training session, every battle, every lesson—all culminating here, in this ancient cavern beneath the Southern Sea Sun Palace.

Then, with a soundless signal, the battle began.