The Extra's Regressor Wives

The campfire was still burning in front of him.

But Aldric could no longer feel any warmth from it.

He stood among the three desiccated corpses with one hand pressed against his temple while the voices continued echoing inside his head.

Some were crying.

Some cursed him.

Others only repeated the same desperate plea over and over.

They did not want to die.

Every time Aldric circulated his mana, the voices became clearer.

"...give it back..."

"...Mother..."

"...save me..."

"Shut up."

He growled through clenched teeth.

It did nothing.

Aldric lowered his gaze to the ring on his hand, his voice turning cold.

"Why didn’t you tell me about this before?"

Morgana did not answer immediately.

"I warned you that Ancient Magic is not something your current body can use carelessly."

"I’m asking about the things in my head."

"They are not complete souls," Morgana corrected. "Only lingering fragments of consciousness left inside the mana pathways. Most of them will weaken over time."

Aldric immediately caught onto one word.

"Most?"

"Some wills are stronger than others."

At that exact moment, a piercing scream exploded inside his head.

"MURDERER!"

Aldric flinched violently.

Lightning immediately flickered around his hand as his emotions destabilized.

Morgana remained calm.

"If you absorb too much in a short period, the residual consciousness will accumulate. At first, it may only cause headaches, insomnia, or hallucinations. Later, the emotions of the dead may begin interfering with your thoughts."

Aldric fell silent for a moment.

"This is because the ritual is incomplete?"

This time, Morgana did not avoid the question.

"Yes."

Aldric’s gaze instantly turned cold.

"You only taught me half of it?"

"I never said what I taught you was complete."

"You knew there were side effects?"

"I did."

Aldric stared at the ring as though trying to pierce through it and see Morgana inside.

But she remained completely composed.

"The ritual you are using is only the first half of an Ancient Magic designed to forcibly absorb and merge mana pathways. It allows you to drag another person’s foundation into your own body, but the methods for purifying spiritual impurities, resolving conflicts between wills, and stabilizing multiple types of mana pathways are all contained in the second half."

Aldric clenched his teeth.

"Then where is the other half?"

Morgana remained silent for several seconds.

Then she finally answered.

"The Twilight Battlefield."

Aldric’s expression immediately changed.

He knew that name.

Not from anything he had experienced in his current life.

But from his memories of the plot.

The Twilight Battlefield was an ancient ruin that only opened under certain conditions.

In the distant past, it had once been a battlefield for existences far beyond the level of modern mages.

And in the storyline Aldric remembered, it was also one of the major opportunities that appeared during the middle stages of the plot.

He simply did not remember every detail.

"You’re saying the second half is there?"

"Yes."

"Where exactly?"

"I don’t know."

Aldric frowned.

"You don’t know?"

"When fully opened, the Twilight Battlefield is larger than a small kingdom," Morgana replied. "I only know that the creator of this ritual died there, and his final inheritance was buried with him."

Aldric looked down at the corpses beneath his feet.

"And if I find it?"

"You’ll be able to purify most residual consciousness before merging the pathways, reduce conflicts between different types of foundations, and improve absorption efficiency."

"How much?"

"That depends on how complete the inheritance is."

Morgana paused before adding,

"But it will certainly be better than what you have now."

Another sob echoed through Aldric’s mind.

"...monster..."

"...you’ll die..."

"...we’ll be waiting..."

He closed his eyes.

After a while, a cold smile slowly appeared on his lips.

"That’s all?"

Morgana asked quietly,

"You’re not afraid?"

Aldric laughed.

"Afraid?"

He lowered his gaze toward the female student’s corpse.

"I could kill them while they were alive."

The toe of his boot slowly came down on the shriveled face.

"What can they do to me now that they’re dead?"

Aldric pressed harder.

Crack.

The facial bones beneath his boot shattered.

A wretched scream immediately tore through his mind.

He paused slightly.

Then his smile widened.

"Oh?"

"You can still feel that?"

Aldric continued grinding his boot downward.

"Then scream."

Morgana said nothing.

Aldric finally stepped away from the corpse and walked toward the campfire.

He bent down, picked up one of the students’ water flasks, and drank from it.

His movements were so casual that the three dead bodies might as well have been magical beasts he had just hunted.

"So what if there are a hundred voices?"

He threw the flask aside.

"A thousand?"

His eyes turned toward the depths of the forest.

"I am the protagonist."

His voice was not loud.

But the confidence behind it had already begun turning into obsession.

"The plot was always going to give me countless trials. If a few voices in my head are enough to stop me, then what right would I have to claim the opportunities waiting later?"

Inside the ring, Morgana listened in silence.

Only after a while did she speak.

"If you find it unbearable, you can stop using the ritual until you obtain the second half."

Aldric paused.

Morgana spoke naturally, as though offering nothing more than a reasonable option.

"This type of magic was never meant for ordinary people. A body and soul that are not strong enough will collapse before the ritual is ever perfected. You can still stop now."

Contempt immediately appeared in Aldric’s eyes.

"Ordinary people?"

Morgana did not answer.

Aldric laughed.

"Master, you’ve been with me this long and you still don’t understand?"

He raised one hand.

A thread of lightning ran across all five fingers.

"I was never ordinary."

The voices in his head continued.

Yet to Aldric, their existence only seemed to prove that he was on the correct path.

In the stories he knew, what protagonist obtained great power without suffering backlash, pain, or some kind of trial?

If there had been no price at all, that would have been far more suspicious.

Aldric stared into the darkness.

’The Twilight Battlefield.’

An opportunity that should have appeared much later.

But Morgana had already mentioned it now.

The corner of his mouth slowly rose.

"Looks like losing that last fight wasn’t completely useless."

Morgana asked,

"What do you mean?"

"Lathel."

The moment that name left his mouth, Aldric’s expression darkened.

The fist smashing into his abdomen.

The foot pressing him into the ground.

The humiliation of being beaten until he coughed blood by an Extra he had never considered worth noticing.

Every detail remained painfully clear.

If Morgana had not intervened, the result might have been even worse.

Aldric clenched his hand.

"I’ve been moving too slowly."

He had once believed that as long as he followed the plot, opportunities would naturally appear at the right time.

Leviana would belong to him.

Catrina would enter the storyline when she was supposed to.

Everything important would eventually fall into the protagonist’s hands.

But things were different now.

Leviana had awakened early.

Catrina had appeared early.

The Black Rose had become active early.

And Lathel possessed a power that had never existed anywhere in Aldric’s memories.

If he continued waiting for each event to happen according to the original timeline, Aldric could no longer be certain that the things meant to belong to him would still be there when he arrived.

"I need to become stronger faster."

Morgana said nothing.

Aldric looked at the three corpses on the ground.

"Strong enough that the next time I meet Lathel, whatever strange power he has won’t be able to save him."

His eyes turned vicious.

"I want to rip whatever is hiding inside his soul out with my own hands and see what it really is."

Another image immediately surfaced.

Leviana.

The Ice Veins that had once possessed a Sage-level foundation.

If he absorbed her while she was still alive, the value would undoubtedly surpass dozens of ordinary students.

Then Aldric remembered the children at the orphanage.

Their mana pathways were still immature.

Not fully developed.

But they could be raised.

Medicinal resources could be used to force their growth.

Aldric looked at the shriveled corpses and found them even more worthless than before.

"These are too weak."

He kicked one body aside.

"Tomorrow, I need better targets."

Morgana finally spoke.

"You still intend to continue?"

Aldric turned toward the ring as though she had asked something absurd.

"Of course."

"Even if the voices keep increasing?"

"The more, the better."

He laughed.

"Once there are a thousand of them, maybe I won’t even notice anymore."

Morgana did not answer.

Aldric pulled his hood back over his head.

Then he crouched beside the bodies and removed their Academy badges along with anything else that could identify them.

The rest he left where they were.

By morning, when another three desiccated corpses were discovered like the one from yesterday, the Academy would certainly conclude that some strange dark art or magical beast was hunting people in the forest.

Aldric had just begun to leave when Morgana’s voice sounded again.

"Aldric."

"What?"

"The Twilight Battlefield is extremely dangerous."

His steps stopped.

Morgana continued,

"Even in my era, many who entered never returned. If you truly intend to obtain the second half, you first need to survive until the day the ruins open."

It was meant as a warning.

Aldric merely smiled.

"You’re doubting me?"

Morgana remained silent.

Aldric gently ran one finger over the ring.

"Don’t worry, Master."

He stepped into the darkness.

"Other people died there because they were only other people."

The corner of his mouth curled upward.

"But I’m the protagonist."

His footsteps gradually disappeared into the forest.

Behind him, the campfire continued burning.

Its orange-red glow illuminated the three shriveled corpses lying among the fallen leaves.

Inside the ring, Morgana said nothing more.

Only a faint sigh sounded—

and quickly faded away.

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