The Extra Can't be A Hero-Chapter 161: A Drink For the Weary (3)

Lucas Bright.

Formerly known as Lucas Solaris. Son of Alrock Solaris, he was the most prodigal talent of his generation. Graduating from the Knight's Academy in record time, Lucas was on the fast track to greatness and was even slated to become the next Solaris Lord once his father retired.

Alas, he disappeared over twenty years ago, going AWOL after a mission and was never heard from ever again. Some say he betrayed the family and joined a villainous organisation. Some claim he was enamoured by a beautiful woman and lost his drive.

The mystery behind his disappearance continued to elude the Solaris House. Nevertheless, they couldn't accept the fact that he had abandoned his duties and, therefore, stripped Lucas of his surname.

Unable to use the Solaris name anymore, Lucas opted to take on a bastard surname, one that revealed his previous ties to the Solaris House and proved that even though he was excommunicated, he was still of Solaris blood.

Bright.

That name carried down to his son, Leon Bright.

Naturally, after he obtained Ascalon and proven himself to be this generation's Hero, the Solaris House offered Leon to reinstate his name, giving him the legitimacy of a Solaris. But Leon declined the offer wholeheartedly. Leon wished for his father's name to be exonerated and would only accept the Solaris name if Lucas was cleared of all wrongdoing.

Alas, without Lucas coming forward to present his innocence, the Solaris House's hands were tied.

Hence, in the years since Leon's return, the Solaris House had poured endless resources into finding Lucas, but it was to no avail. It was as if the man had left no trace of his existence, disappearing from the world's prying eyes.

Yet… here he was, drinking beer beside Amon.

Time hasn't been kind ot Lucas Bright.

Well into his forties, his black hair had become streaked with the faintest ash of age. A wild, unkempt beard cloaked his jaw—less a choice than the consequence of years spent too deep in hiding. His frame bore the silence of exhaustion, the slump of sleepless nights and remembered screams. Yet beneath the weariness, power lingered—coiled and quiet like a storm waiting just beyond the hills. One misstep, and he could still end a life with the grace of an old prayer.

"Amon… I heard you accepted my son as a disciple."

With the owner gone, Lucas had helped himself to another pint from the tap. Amon raised his brow at the question, but didn't protest it.

"What of it?"

"Honestly… I was surprised… How could a boy two years older than Leon become his master? I've heard stories about your skills and prodigy, but I'd never understood why Leon accepted you as his master. Especially since there were plenty of better choices."

Alrock Solaris, the Solaris Lord, had plenty of experience and was Leon's grandfather. Even though he was busy with administrative tasks, he was by far a better choice to be Leon's master.

Horus Solaris, the master that Leon had in [Bright], was also a stellar choice. His reputation as the Knight of the Morning Star was impeccable, and many believed him to be a kind and patient teacher. His mastery over the Solaris Mystic Arts wasn't in question either, as he was considered to be the best all-around Solaris Knight.

Then there were other great Solaris Knights, too, all of whom could have become excellent masters for Leon.

Carmen Solaris, the Commander of the Black Dragon Order. Galahad Solaris, the Knight Commander of the Golden Dragon Order. Mirran Solaris, the Chairman of the High Elders. They were all great masters and would fight for the chance to mentor the Hero.

So, for Amon to gain the upper hand before all those monsters, it puzzled Lucas.

Therefore, even though he was tied up with personal affairs, the man took the risk and researched Amon.

"Are you here to complain?"

"On the contrary," Lucas shook his head and stifled a laugh. "Now that I have finally met you in person, I now understand the rumours weren't overblowing your accomplishments, but… underselling them."

Knowing Lucas stood as an ally, Amon let the Seven Suns within him burn freely, their light winding through his veins like celestial fire. His power, though tempered, radiated a quiet force—gentle as mist, yet able to coil and choke like a serpent in the dark. With Lucas's Solaris bloodline, he felt it all—each flicker of Amon's realm like a sunrise blooming behind closed eyes.

"A twenty-two-year-old Sun Knight… I bet there has never been a more prodigious talent than yourself in the history of this planet."

Lucas could hardly believe his eyes. Condensing Seven Suns was difficult beyond comprehension, and only a select few could ever challenge that realm. It was telling, given how even though there were thousands of Knights in the Solaris House, the number of them who reached Seven Suns could be counted with one hand.

Even for himself… Lucas had only managed to condense his seventh Sun a few years back, when he turned forty. A forty-year-old Solaris Knight with seven Suns condensed would have gone down in the Solaris House's annals as a legendary talent. And Lucas only managed to condense the seventh Sun out of pure luck and due to his special circumstances.

Yet, Amon did it all before his twenty-third birthday… almost half the time taken for himself.

"I wonder if it's fortunate or unfortunate that my son had to be born in the same era as you."

"..."

Even though Leon was the Hero and the man with Ascalon, he was ultimately going to play second fiddle to Amon. Not even Leon's absurd talent could measure up to Amon, who was now powerful enough to challenge the world's mightiest people.

"Is that why you came all this way? To lament your son's birth?"

Running out of patience, Amon hinted to Lucas to get to the point. A wry smile then broke out, and the man laughed: "You're right… Neither of us has the time to be dabbling in small talk."

"..."

"Amon, as my son's master, I hope that you could do me a favour."

"Speak."

"Don't let him find me."

Lucas drank half the pint once more, as if drowning himself in sorrows. The once indomitable Solaris Knight now seemed small, almost weak.

"If possible, let him forget that I even existed. Of course, given his character, he won't do that, but… I beg you, Amon. Please don't let him find me."

"... why?"

"It's complicated," Lucas shook his head and didn't answer. However, Amon wasn't going to take his silence lightly.

"Is it because of your wife and the disaster she's hiding under the lake?"

"You…"

Amon's words struck Lucas like a blade through old armour—clean, unexpected, cruel.

At first, he didn't move. His golden eyes stared ahead, unblinking, as if the world had gone still. The lines in his weathered face deepened, carved by disbelief. His breath slowed, drawn in through clenched teeth as silence wrapped around him like a noose.

Then he snapped.

The chair beneath Lucas groaned as he rose—slowly, deliberately—shoulders squared with the weight of some long-dead fury resurrected. His golden gaze burned hotter now, not with surprise, but with something older, buried deep and dragged to the surface: rage.

Not the wild, foolish rage of youth. This was colder. Sharper. Measured.

"How did you know about that?!"

Heat began to steam out of the man's pores, turning the calm and tempered pub into a dry sauna. The wooden planks on the ground cracked, and the pressure Lucas exerted crushed several pieces of furniture. Yet, even with all the carnage, Amon didn't move a muscle. He just stared back at the banished Knight and calmly repeated:

"Your wife and Leon's mother… Aluria. The Guardian of the Lake. She doesn't have much time left now, does she?"

"Y-You! Tell me now! How did you know about that?!"

Engulfed with rage, Lucas roared to life as his mana spike within the pub. At any moment now, his seven Suns was ready to launch right into Amon's soul, and vaporise him from the inside. Amon glanced back tiredly and sighed. A raging flame emerged from Amon's heart and countered Lucas's mana, and the pub reverted to silence.

"Calm down. Or do you want to destroy this pub and the innocent bystanders?"

"..."

Although unwilling, Lucas knew better than to lose control of his emotions. Especially when he had the power to kill dozens of innocents in a fit of rage, the steaming energy within his soul calmed down, and the agitated father and husband repeated himself, this time calmer:

"What do you know about my wife?"

"Enough to know that she isn't human… and giving birth to Leon has weakened the one thing she was sworn to protect."

"And here I'd thought I had you figured out."

Realising he had lost, the man lowered his gaze, the fire of defiance flickering out from his eyes. With a weary sigh, he raised his beer and drained it in one long gulp, as if trying to wash away the bitterness of truth along with the drink. The glass hit the table with a dull thud. His shoulders sagged, the tension that had gripped his body finally melting away like ice under sunlight.

He spoke then, his voice rough—cracked around the edges like it hadn't been used for something honest in a long time.

"Yeah... that's right. My wife is dying." His words hung heavy in the air. "And it's because of me. My arrogance. My blind, selfish choices."

He paused, the silence stretching, only broken by the faint hum of the world continuing outside, uncaring.

"If I could trade places with her, I would—without hesitation. But life doesn't work like that. Since I can't take her pain away completely... the least I can do is carry some of it. Lighten her load. It's the only thing left I can offer her now."

His fingers curled loosely around the empty glass, and for the first time in a long while, he looked not angry, not proud—just tired.

"And so… I will have to clean up my mess. When that time comes… Leon mustn't be there to watch my demise."

"You can't defeat the disaster sealed under the lake."

"I know that!"

Lucas yelled while slamming the glass of beer on the bar counter. He knew what dangers lay beneath the lake and what his wife had spent aeons guarding. It was a phantom of the past, a sealed demigod that not even the Dragons could defeat.

If even the Dragons couldn't kill that monster, how could Lucas hope to do any better?

"Sir Lucas, just be patient."

"What?"

"Once I'm done with my business here, I will bring Leon to you."

"Didn't you hear what I just said?! I don't want…"

"I will avert the disaster."

"... What?"

For the first time since crossing paths with Amon, a flicker of confusion—and something dangerously close to hope—flickered across Lucas's face. It was subtle, almost fragile, like a crack in a long-frozen lake. But just as quickly as it appeared, the warmth vanished, smothered by the unforgiving chill of reality settling back in.

"You have no idea what you're promising."

"Oh, but I do."

In an instant, Amon's hand pressed firmly against Lucas's chest, and a surge of mana flooded into his heart. The warmth was immediate, piercing through the ice that despair and fear had long since encased around it. Lucas's breath hitched as something inside him softened, thawed. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt… alive. Maybe—just maybe—Amon's words weren't lies. Perhaps they could be trusted.

"Leon needs his parents, and I am not going to let them die under my watch."

"... what are you?"

This time, Lucas was genuinely curious. Genius wasn't a word to cut it. It felt like Amon was a deity sent from the heavens to protect Leon, to guide him on the right path to greatness.

And to that, Amon cracked a smile.

"Me? I'm just an extra in your son's story."