The Nameless Extra: I Proofread This World-Chapter 103: Through the Mountain’s Spine (1)

The open field stretched endlessly before them, an ocean of wind-swept grass that whispered and bent under the brooding sky.
The air was thick with the smell of damp earth, and every so often the gusts carried the whiff metallic tang of an oncoming storm. Overhead, the clouds were swollen and restless, darkening with each passing minute.
Yerin walked at the front, her fingerless-gloves curled around the compass. They had been moving along the C7 region for nearly two hours, their boots leaving some trails in the wet grass.
The journey had not been without interruption.
A scattering of Lesser Voidspawn had crossed their path but their pale, twitching shapes dispatched with ease. While the stronger ones were avoided.
The plan was simple enough: keep the fights to a minimum, conserve their strength, and stockpile points until time ran out. That was the only reliable way to rank higher than the others. Winning battles was nothing compared to surviving until the end.
In the novel, not many had done so.
Most were either dragged down into the shadows or penalized into irrelevance. That was why survival was the only real victory.
Ruvian knew which regions offered the safest passage, the least hostile terrain, the lowest risk of running into trouble.
He had the map in his head, the meta-knowledge of what was supposed to happen. But the island had its own way of humbling certainty.
The mist this morning had been proof enough.
In the story, that higher-ranked Voidspawn had never been placed along the western shore. At least, it was never said where exactly it lived.
All he had ever been sure of was the rule: when the mist comes, you run. And the denser it is, the closer they are to its core.
‘I wonder… why didn’t Rosalin run into something like that?’
She had been in the western region as well, though further south, while he was at the northern edge.
To be exact, she was at B5.
That small difference might have been enough… or maybe she had just been lucky and managed to get away from that region before nightfall.
Even so, luck could only carry someone so far.
‘She’s not strong enough to defeat it. Technically, no one in the first year is strong enough to kill a Reaper Voidspawn.’
The grassland began to thin, and the air grew sharper. They reached the border of C7, the endless sway of the plains giving way to a jagged horizon.
A towering wall of mountains loomed ahead, their black stone streaked with scars of age and storms. Cliffs rose like broken teeth, and narrow shadows carved deep into their sides.
The storm above them seemed to press lower, as if the clouds themselves were being dragged into the waiting jaws of the mountains.
It was not a welcoming place.
Arlok stared up at the jagged slope, then at the clouds churning above it.
“…Are we actually going to climb this fuck-ass mountain?”
Shima glanced at him, her expression was somewhere between incredulous and amused.
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“I think it’s suicidal to climb this while the sky looks like it’s about to spit lightning at us,” the corner of her mouth twitching as if it might be a joke.
Horren turned his head toward Ruvian.
“…Is there no other way to get to that region?”
The wind pressed cold fingers against their faces. Then, all eyes shifted to Ruvian.
He stood there, arms folded, looking up at the cliffs with an unreadable expression.
“Don’t worry, we’re not climbing that. Unless, like Shima said, we’re aiming for suicide.”
He started moving along the base of the mountain, scanning the terrain determinedly. His gaze swept from one shadowed ridge to the next, as if waiting for something to stand out.
“There should be a pass somewhere around here. It’ll connect us to the other side of the region. Let’s look for it.”
The others fell in behind him without argument.
In the novel, Zian Herga—the protagonist—had learned about a secret pathway through these mountains from a group of seniors. He’d never used it himself, but it had been tucked away as a neat piece of knowledge.
But… should Ruvian even trust that?
Seniors giving advice to a naive first-year? That sounded like the setup to a bad joke. Or worse, a trap. From what he remembered of the dialogue, they’d been closer to bullies than mentors.
Ruvian let out a sigh, his breath white in the chill air.
‘Hopefully there’s nothing peculiar or troublesome about it…’
Because if there was, they’d need to turn back and find another route. And wasn’t it always better to be safe than sorry?
Several minutes of searching passed in silence, then, at last, they found it.
The path revealed itself. Hidden behind a jut of stone, as if the mountain had been keeping it secret until they stood right before it. It was a wide open corridor, stretching forward. The walls rose high on either side, jagged enough that the wind funneled through in a constant moan.
The stone was the color of old ash, streaked with veins of darker mineral that caught the dim light and turned it dull. Patches of moss clung stubbornly to the cracks, slick with moisture.
Farther in, the path narrowed even more. The ground was uneven, fractured in places with shallow pits.
It was a shortcut—Ruvian knew that much.
If they followed it to the end, it would lead them into the E8 region without forcing a climb over the ridges.
But the vibes here… the vibes here felt different.
Maybe it was just the way the wind echoed strangely down the corridor, carrying a faint, hollow whistle. Maybe it was how the shadows pooled unnaturally deep at the bends, giving the impression that the path went farther than it should.
Either way, the sensation crawled across their skin, cold and alert.
Arlok was the first to break the silence.
“Hey, am I the only one who feel like…I don’t like this place?” he muttered, his voice quieter than usual.
Shima gave a humorless smirk.
“Yeah… I feel the same. This place is just screaming ‘bad idea.”
Yerin stepped forward, eyes narrowing at the narrow stretch of stone ahead.
“Ruvian, how did you know about this pathway?”
His gaze was still fixed on the corridor.
“From the seniors, but I doubt they gave the information out of generosity.”
Yerin’s eyes flicked to the shadows deeper in the pass.
“I see… Then we inspect it first.”
She turned to Horren.
“Shoot an arrow down there. If there’s a trap, better it trips on it than on us.”
Horren nodded, drew his bow, and sent an arrow whistling into the dark. It clattered against the stone and slid to a stop… but nothing happened.
Ruvian, however, didn’t look satisfied.
‘Zian never took this path because he wasn't in the Northwest region. But even so, I doubt it's safe or peaceful.’
“Yerin… you have any Voidspawn meat on you?”
She lifted an eyebrow, but reached into her pack without question. A moment later, she handed him a bundle wrapped in oil cloth—chunks of pale, sinewed flesh.
‘If my guess is correct, they should be triggered by something else other than a plain arrow.’
He took them, weighed them in his hand, and then cast them down the corridor with a sharp flick of his wrist. A faint spiral of wind magic carrying it farther than a normal throw could manage.
The chunks landed with a wet slap on the uneven stone, skidding and rolling until they settled in the middle of the pass, between the towering walls.
For a moment, there was only the sigh of the wind.
Then, the ground trembled.
It began as a faint vibration beneath their boots. Then, it grew quickly, swelling into a deep, resonant rumble that made the stone walls themselves shudder. Fine dust sifted down from the cliff faces, spiraling lazily before being stolen by the breeze.
The earth ahead split open with a jagged crack. From the fissure, a massive shape began to rise.
First came the crown of its head, a broad slab of stone veined with glowing mineral lines like the beat of a heart. Then shoulders, carved as if by ancient, merciless hands, emerged from the dirt, each ridge and groove fitting together.
As more of it surfaced, its sheer size became clear—it towered over the pass, a living fortress of rock and soil. Its arms were not arms at all, but colossal pillars ending in jagged, crushing hands.
The thing’s face—if it could be called that—was a blunt wedge of stone with no eyes, only a deep, hollow maw that exhaled a breath of dust.
PP= 3150
ME= 510
MR= 5