The Extra Wants Control

Neveah blurred through the dense canopy, his form flitting between trees with practiced ease. Yet, a frustrated growl rumbled in his throat. "Tsk," he muttered, "still too slow." His crimson eyes flickered with the reflection of the setting sun as he landed on a sturdy branch, the forest floor a dizzying blur below.

Earlier that day's conversation with Verona echoed in his mind. The queen's explanation, though cryptic, had piqued his curiosity.

"What exactly are you doing?" he'd asked.

Verona, her brow furrowed in concentration as she continued her intricate work on his back, had replied, "Preparing you to use a better form of energy. Now, stay still."

"Better?" Neveah had pressed, suspicion mingling with a flicker of hope. "Does that mean you see mana as flawed?"

"Everything has flaws," Verona had conceded, "but yes, mana and aura both have more limitations."

"Can you explain?" He'd persisted, eager to understand the reasoning behind this unorthodox training.

Verona had sighed, "Look," she'd said, "as you progress further, your stars, whether based on aura or mana, become like beacons. They… those who govern this world can sense them. Mana is the energy of 'this' world, yes, but it's not the only one. Have you ever encountered demons? They use a different type of energy entirely. And then there are the Goddesses…" She'd trailed off, her voice hardening.

"The details are beyond your current understanding. You're just too weak to know. But the point is, they can restrict your access to mana, the very same way you were banned from using it, basically everyone that has solely invested on mana nad aura alone are leashed… well that's not the only way they can control your growth.

They can stifle your progress in other ways too, I'm guessing that's how their blessed are going to progress ridiculously fast."

Neveah's frown deepened as he recalled his frustrating attempts to manipulate mana after the inscription. It felt like trying to grasp smoke, the energy slipping through his fingers just as he thought he had a hold of it.

"The energy I'm training you to use," Verona had continued, "it's much harder to detect, much harder to manipulate. I'm using your adaptation trait to your advantage, feeding you doses of my own crystallized energy to pave the way."

Neveah's hand instinctively brushed against the cool, intricate patterns etched onto his back. A strange hum vibrated beneath his fingertips, a feeling that resonated deep within him. It was a connection to something unfamiliar yet strangely alluring.

"Why didn't I start with this energy?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine curiosity."This could have been so much easier."

Verona, her violet eyes devoid of emotion, met his gaze unflinchingly. "I didn't trust you, Neveah. Turning you into my son was an impulsive act I made. Granting immediate access to such power… well, let's just say I wasn't sure you wouldn't turn on me in future."

Neveah felt a small anger simmering, then cooled into a grudging understanding. "I… I understand," he conceded, his voice quieter now.

Verona surprised him by stepping forward and pulling him into a tight embrace. Her touch was cool, yet strangely comforting. "But…" she continued, her voice a low murmur against his ear, "as time passed, I… I started to feel something for you. An instinct to protect, a mother's love. I enjoyed the bond we shared. You became more than just a simple experiment of having a son."

She released him, her eyes softening for a fleeting moment before hardening again. "Now," she declared, her voice regaining its regal authority, "I have a task for you. You will achieve absolute mastery over both gravity and darkness magic."

Neveah stared at her, his jaw slack. Absolute proficiency? Over two incredibly complex forms of magic? "H-huuh?" he stammered, his voice bordering on a squeak.

"Ten years," Verona repeated, ignoring his stunned expression. "That's your deadline. Now, go. Hunt."

"Wait, I still have questions!" Neveah protested.

Verona's smile held a hint of cruelty. "You'll figure it out, Neveah. You'll have to. This new energy… it's your key. You'll learn to use it on your own. Your first target: the pseudo-seven-star Lord who rules the First Area of the Garden.

Consider it a test run."

Neveah opened his mouth to argue, to plead for some form of explanation, but Verona cut him off with a sharp gesture. "Go. The clock is ticking."

***********

[Nev POV]

"Sigh… Remember this feeling," Verona said, her voice echoing in my head. She'd channeled the energy through me – unlike mana, which flowed with a sense of 'order', this one was pure chaos refusing to be contained. I was worried for my body but it withstood the energy, Verona had a hand in it I'm guessing.

Five minutes of that chaotic energy bath, and I found myself dumped unceremoniously in the middle of the damn Garden. Here I am now, hunting, the lord of the area, a mutant, a freaking twin-headed orc.

My confidence, once sky-high, had taken a nosedive. Hunting wasn't exactly going according to plan. Sure, I hadn't spent all my time searching for the orc – I'd been diligently trying to tap into this chaotic energy, too. But even with my adaptation trait, it felt like wrestling with air. Controlling elements was on hold for now as I wasn't sure what would happen.

All I could do was focus on the raw energy, trying to channel it, to understand it. And since I couldn't use it as mana, I decided to ise it as aura, which I have no experience of but I thought it was just coating myself with it and trying to strengthen myself.

At the time I didn't know that that was my first mistake a very big one that I would be punished for...

As for the orc... well, they weren't exactly tactical geniuses. Let's just say goblins had them beat in the cunning department. But what they lacked in brains, they made up for in brawn. Ridiculously strong.

From what I'd observed, they had a small village of around forty or so, complete with a surprisingly decent security system for such a rudimentary society. They had these overgrown, smelly guard dogs, patrolling the perimeter with a vigilance that would put some trained soldiers to shame.

The stench hit me first. A pungent wall of fermented vegetables, rotting meat, and something suspiciously like… well, shit. It wasn't a titan-blocking wall but it served a purpose. The orc village reeked to high heaven, a noxious barrier that would likely deter any sane creature from venturing close.

A ten-foot wall, a truly impressive feat for a society that hadn't discovered the wheel yet, encircled the crude wooden huts that housed the orcs. It wasn't exactly a Fort, but it was constructed from a surprising mix of materials. Dung and mud formed the base, surprisingly sturdy after years of baking under the unforgiving sun.

Embedded within were fist-sized stones, haphazardly placed but numerous enough to deter a casual charge. And to top it all off, sharpened tree trunks, their bark stripped and points hardened by fire, jutted out at precarious angles from the top of the wall. Not exactly elegant, but effective.

The real deterrent, however, came in the form of their guard dogs. These weren't your average hounds, no sir. These were monstrous beasts, the size of small bears, with matted fur that hung in greasy clumps. Their eyes glowed a sickly yellow in the fading light, and their slobber dripped in thick ropes, leaving trails of glistening slime on the rough-hewn wooden gate.

Two hulking orcs, barely visible in the growing darkness, wrestled with the beasts, their guttural commands barely audible over the low growls that emanated from the hounds' throats.

It wasn't high tech, but it was effective. They might be dumb as bricks, but these orcs weren't completely clueless. But just like their bastard cousins, they are unhygienic, sloppy and disgusting... A plague.

*************

[ 3rd Person POV]

A sly grin stretched across Neveah's face as he surveyed the smoldering remains of the orcs' hunting traps. He disarmed their already set traps. Used placed spices on their regular hunting spots for off-putting the hound's noses.

Frustration echoed through the orc village in the form of guttural bellows and the rhythmic thwack of clubs against wooden posts. The orcs, already on edge from the previous night's events, stomped their feet in a primal display of anger.

Neveah, cloaked in shadow, took a perverse satisfaction in the chaos he'd sown. Gone were the days of a straightforward hunt. He was a shadow in the night, a harbinger of misfortune for these simple creatures. Last night, he'd caused "accidents" – making them miss their hunting quotas, blocking the small river tributar from supplying them with water, burnt their already stored food.

Sleep deprivation was another weapon in his arsenal. He'd discovered a patch of nightshade plants that, when stimulated with the fire, emitted a series of piercing shrieks that echoed through the night, shattering the orcs' slumber. The result: a village reeking of discontent, full with suspicion, and sorely lacking in both rest and hydration.

Their usual boisterousness was replaced by a simmering rage. Accusatory glances were exchanged, punctuated by the occasional fistfight between sleep-deprived orcs. The air crackled with tension, a stark contrast to the carefree atmosphere Neveah had observed earlier.

Nev estimated himself to be as strong as a normal 5 star, he couldn't go through with a head on brawl against the orcs. He wanted them weak, disoriented, and easy prey. But he did it with sadistic passion, he called it efficiency but he was just being petty.