An Extra’s Rise in an Eroge

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Alicia, too, wasn't idle.

When one of the men lunged at her, thinking her an easier target, she reacted instantly. Ducking beneath his outstretched arms, she drove her knee into his stomach. He coughed violently, stumbling back, but she wasn't finished. She grabbed his arm, twisting it at an unnatural angle before throwing him onto the ground with sheer force.

The man groaned in pain, clutching his side.

But soon she was subdued and one man kept her pinned down.

Now Eveline was alone against the remaining four men.

Ignoring the fallen man, who continued to writhe in pain from her earlier counterattack, the saintess moved with swift precision, her body a testament to years of training. Though danger loomed, a faint part of her heart hoped that the injured man would recover quickly. Her commitment to goodness and mercy remained unshaken, even in the direst of situations.

The four remaining assailants, initially caught off guard by their comrade's swift defeat, quickly regained their composure. They circled, their eyes filled with renewed malice. The air around them thickened with tension, and the alleyway felt smaller with each step they took toward her.

She adjusted her stance, her every movement precise and calculated. Her training and experience surged within her, and although a part of her longed to call upon her divine combat arts, she resisted the temptation. Using such power would be lethal, and she refused to kill unless absolutely necessary. Instead, she steeled herself to rely on her martial prowess, determined to subdue the attackers without causing permanent harm.

"Get her!" one of the men shouted, his voice tinged with frustration. In that instant, all five attackers lunged at her in unison, their desperation palpable. But their efforts were futile against the saintess's honed reflexes and strength.

To her left, the first man came at her with reckless aggression. In a fluid motion, she pivoted, unleashing a powerful kick to his chest. The force of the strike sent him reeling backward, his breath leaving his body in a painful gasp as he struggled to stay upright.

Before the second assailant could react, she spun gracefully, delivering a precise karate-like punch directly to his face. The blow landed with brutal force, instantly reddening his cheek and leaving him stunned. His features twisted in pain and shock as the saintess's fist connected, and he staggered back, dazed and disoriented.

The remaining two attackers, sensing the shift in momentum, tried to catch her off guard by attacking from opposite directions. At first, it seemed their tactic might succeed, forcing the saintess to momentarily divide her attention between them.

But her focus remained unshakable. She watched their every movement with practiced precision, anticipating their strikes. The first man aimed a punch directly at her abdomen, but she was faster. With flawless timing, she seized his outstretched arm, twisting it with ease. The divine strength coursing through her gave her a significant advantage, and she used it to hurl him with effortless force toward his companion.

"Ahg!" The two men screamed in agony as they collided with each other, their plans to outmaneuver the saintess backfiring in a painful and humiliating defeat. The saintess stood her ground, her expression calm and composed as she surveyed the scene, knowing that her martial prowess and divine strength had proven to be more than a match for their brutal attacks.

"Haah!" The first assailant she had incapacitated seemed to have recovered. With a savage growl, he charged at her once more, knife in hand. His desperation was evident, but it didn't faze the saintess. She swiftly pivoted, her body flowing with practiced ease as she dodged the slash aimed at her. The man's momentum carried him too far, leaving him wide open. Without hesitation, the saintess closed the gap, delivering a knee strike directly to his stomach.

The force sent him soaring several meters into the air, the breath knocked out of him as he struggled to regain control of his body. He crashed to the ground, unable to rise.

The saintess paused, her senses alert. Her vigilance paid off as she heard something hurtling through the air. Without a second thought, she tilted her head just in time to dodge a large rock thrown in her direction. The projectile whizzed past her, and before she could react, more rocks and random debris came at her from all directions.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Pathetic," she thought to herself, narrowly avoiding each item. The assailants, seeing the saintess's grace under pressure, had resorted to desperation. They hurled rocks, bottles, anything they could grab, hoping to overwhelm her with sheer numbers.

Her focus remained steady, but one of the men, seeing her absorbed in deflecting the flying debris, seized the opportunity to throw something else. This time, it wasn't just a rock.

A glass vial sailed through the air, and before she could react, it shattered against her arm. The contents sprayed outward, some of it splashing against her face and body. At first, she thought it was merely water or a harmless substance, but almost immediately, she felt a strange warmth spreading through her skin. Her heart rate quickened, and her breaths grew shallow.

Her vision blurred for a moment, and her body began to tremble involuntarily. The effects were swift and potent. The saintess struggled to remain composed as her body began heating up, her muscles tightening with discomfort. A wave of dizziness hit her, causing her to stumble backward, her normally steady stance faltering.

"What's happening...?" she thought in confusion, trying to steady herself. But her focus was slipping. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever felt before—an overwhelming, suffocating heat building up within her.

"Hahaha, good job, Fred!" one of the men laughed, his voice tinged with triumph as he watched the saintess falter, her body betraying her. His companions joined in, their laughter echoing in the alley as they saw the once-powerful saintess brought to her knees.

Her breaths came in ragged gasps as the liquid continued to course through her veins, heightening her physical senses and sensations. The saintess's face flushed, her usual composure shattered by the effects of the vial's contents. The heat in her body was growing unbearable, and her thoughts became clouded with every passing second.

Eveline writhed in agony, her body growing unbearably hot as confusion and fear clouded her thoughts. A strange heat pulsed through her veins, twisting her senses. "What's happening to me?" she thought, her vision blurring as the world spun around her.

"Ahh!" she screamed as a brutal kick slammed into her stomach, knocking the air from her lungs.

"You gave us a lot of trouble, didn't you, bitch?" one of the men sneered, his tone dripping with malice.

"Don't go too far. We still need them in one piece," another chuckled darkly.

"Oh, right! Wouldn't want to break our toys before we even get to play," the first one laughed, the others joining in, their voices thick with wicked anticipation.

From his pocket, one of them pulled out two small vials filled with a thick, pink liquid.

"Open your mouth, slut," he commanded, slapping Eveline hard before prying her lips open and forcing the liquid down her throat.

Alicia gasped in horror, struggling against her restraints, but another man grabbed her by the chin, pouring the same concoction into her mouth before she could resist.

She coughed, the sickly-sweet taste burning down her throat. "What… what did you just give us?!" she demanded, her voice trembling with rage and dread.

Laughter filled the air.

"A little something special. An aphrodisiac. In a few minutes, you'll be begging for us to fuck you," one of them said with a wicked grin.

"We're not the kind of guys who like to force things, you know," another added mockingly.

Their laughter echoed through the dimly lit space, the air thick with impending doom.

Alicia and Eveline's eyes widened in sheer horror, their bodies still trembling from the effects of the unknown substance. Panic clawed at their chests as their last shreds of hope threatened to crumble.

Alicia and Eveline's eyes widened in sheer horror, their bodies still trembling from the unknown substance coursing through their veins. Panic clawed at their chests, threatening to shatter their last sliver of hope.

Their minds were clouded in a haze of pain and confusion as rough hands seized their arms, yanking them apart. One man gripped Eveline's wrists while another forced her legs open. A third unzipped his pants, his lecherous grin widening as he declared, "I'll go first."

The others snickered, their twisted anticipation filling the air.

Alicia and Eveline's faces twisted in sheer terror. The saintess, still dazed, finally grasped the direness of their situation. Her heart pounded violently in her chest as she struggled against the iron grip holding her down.

"Nooo!" Eveline screamed, thrashing wildly.

But her cries only seemed to amuse them. The man who had unzipped his pants chuckled as he stepped closer, relishing in her helplessness.

Then—

His laughter was cut short.

A sickening sound echoed through the room. Schlck.

The man's body twitched unnaturally before his head vanished from his shoulders. Blood sprayed into the air in a gruesome arc as his severed head tumbled to the ground, rolling to a stop at his companions' feet.

The room fell into a suffocating silence.

The remaining men stared in frozen horror, their minds struggling to process what had just happened. Even Alicia and Eveline, lost in their haze of fear, had fallen eerily still.

Then—

Thump.

The headless body collapsed, sending a dull echo through the room.

A voice, calm yet laced with an unmistakable edge of fury, broke the silence.

"I told you the slums weren't a good place, didn't I?"

The girls' breath hitched. That voice—

Arthur.

Relief washed over them even as the weight of the moment pressed down on their trembling bodies.

Arthur had arrived.

He stood amidst the carnage, his blade still dripping with fresh blood, his piercing gaze colder than death itself. He had teleported just in time to witness the scene before him—and his fury was absolute.

Without hesitation, without mercy, he had struck. The first to defile them never even got the chance to realize he was dead.