An Extra’s Rise in an Eroge

As the final shackle hit the ground with a heavy thud, a low tremor rolled beneath their feet.

The battlefield stilled.

The wind shifted, no longer carrying the sharp bite of blood and magic. Instead, it moved gently across the ruined plain—cool, calm, and oddly comforting. It carried something else too. A presence. Old. Heavy. Divine.

Then, the massive form of Fenrir stirred.

His breathing deepened. Muscles relaxed. The silver fur that had once been matted with blood now shimmered clean under the sunlight, as if the divine elixir had washed away more than just madness.

His eyes opened slowly.

Gone was the frenzied glow. In its place were calm, steady eyes—intelligent, vast, and ancient. Eyes that belonged not to a beast, but a god.

The warriors stood frozen. No one spoke. No one moved. They just stared.

Then, Fenrir's gaze fell on Arthur.

"…You," he said.

The voice wasn't thunderous, but it rumbled low, like distant storm clouds. It didn't shake the ground—but it carried weight. A voice meant to be heard, not feared.

"You freed me."

Arthur rested his sword on his shoulder and shrugged. "Wasn't much. Just cut through a few divine chains."

A pause. Then the corners of Fenrir's massive jaw shifted slightly. A low sound followed—rough and deep.

A chuckle.

"You speak as if it were simple. But to me… this is everything. You ended decades of pain. Solitude."

His eyes shifted, scanning the battlefield.

Wolfkin warriors still had weapons in hand, but they weren't raised. They were held low, almost forgotten. Their expressions weren't of fear anymore. It was awe.

"You fought," Fenrir said. "You didn't run. Even when I lost control—you stayed."

The wolfkin didn't respond with words. One by one, they began to kneel.

Morrika stepped forward, slow but steady. Her armor was torn, face streaked with blood, but her posture was firm.

She lowered her head.

"We never gave up on you, my lord."

A soft golden glow began to pulse from Fenrir's massive body. It wasn't blinding—it was warm, almost calming.

"Then accept this," Fenrir said. "My gratitude… and my blessing."

The light expanded suddenly, bursting outward in waves that swept across the battlefield. But instead of pushing them back, it pulled them in—gentle and weightless.

One by one, the warriors were lifted a few inches from the ground. Their bodies surrounded by golden wisps that wove around them, soaking into their skin.

Gasps echoed through the field.

Morrika's eyes widened as she felt it too—an energy that pulsed straight into her core.

On the backs of each warrior, a glowing mark began to form. A familiar symbol long thought lost: a massive wolf totem, etched in divine light. Their sacred bond had been restored.

And it burned brighter than ever.

Their bodies responded instantly. Claws shimmered with new energy. Eyes sharpened. Movements steadied. Some grew subtly in height, others simply stood taller—more grounded, more powerful.

Strength. Clarity. Purpose.

Morrika stumbled forward a step, clutching her chest as a surge of divine energy passed through her like a heartbeat.

Then… a voice echoed in her mind. Not Fenrir's—but something older. Wiser. Like the very will of the world.

You have acquired Legendary Skill: [Lupine Wrath]

Unleashes the ancient berserker spirit of the wolfkin. Greatly increases strength and agility when protecting the pack.

Another pulse followed.

You have acquired Legendary Skill: [Howl of the Moonbound]

A sacred howl that inspires allies and weakens enemies within a wide radius. Morale rises. Resolve hardens.

Her eyes snapped open.

Power coursed through her, raw and untamed—but it didn't feel wild. It felt right. Like it had always been there, waiting to be awakened.

All around her, her kin looked the same. Changed. Empowered.

Morrika blinked, her eyes shimmering with emotion. She dropped to her knees—not from exhaustion or pain, but from pure, overwhelming gratitude.

Fenrir turned his gaze skyward. His voice, deep and resonant, carried across the silent field.

"And for those who fell…"

He raised his head and let out a long, mournful howl. It wasn't a cry of grief—it was a tribute. Proud. Honoring.

The air trembled with its power.

From across the blood-soaked ground, soft golden lights began to rise. One by one, small glowing wisps lifted into the sky—souls of the fallen wolfkin, released from their suffering. They shimmered like stars against the daylight, drifting upward until they vanished.

"They are free now," Fenrir said quietly. "They will find peace in the hunting grounds beyond the stars."

Arthur stood still, arms crossed, watching it unfold. He said nothing.

Then, Fenrir looked at him. Those glowing, ancient eyes locked with Arthur's.

"And you… the human with the scent of divinity. I owe you more than words or gifts can repay."

Arthur raised a brow. "Wasn't looking for a reward."

"I know," Fenrir replied. "That's why you deserve one."

The giant wolf lowered his head until his eye was level with Arthur, his voice steady.

"I have nothing to give you now… but my word. When the time comes, call out to me. No matter where you are, no matter how far—I will hear you."

Arthur smirked. "A god's promise, huh? Guess that's worth more than a sack of gold."

Fenrir gave a low chuckle, then slowly rose to his full height. His body, once tense and burdened, now moved with ease—as if a thousand years of pain had finally been lifted.

"I've suffered long enough," he said. "Now… I will rest. Not in chains, but in peace."

His form began to dissolve into silver mist. Bit by bit, his massive frame faded, drifting apart like smoke on the wind. No explosion. No noise. Just a quiet end.

And then, he was gone.

The silence that followed hung heavy in the air. Not from fear, but reverence.

Then—

A cheer broke out.

Laughter. Cries of joy. Howls that echoed across the field.

Some wolfkin embraced, others collapsed in tears. They shouted, danced, roared to the heavens. A few stared at their hands or clawed fingers in disbelief—still feeling the divine strength pulsing through them.

"We did it!"

"He's free!"

"I feel stronger than ever!"

Even Morrika, battle-hardened and stoic, allowed herself a small, quiet smile as she stood beside Arthur.

Arthur let out a breath and rolled his shoulders. "Now that," he said, "was a job well done."

Their return journey was far less eventful. With the faint trace of Fenrir's divine aura still lingering around them, the monsters on their path scattered like leaves in a storm. None dared to approach.

They walked back not as survivors—but as warriors reborn.

Their mission was over. And none of them would ever be the same.