I CHOSE to be a VILLAIN, not a THIRD-RATE EXTRA!!

Chapter 138: External and Internal Art

The last shelf of the Weapon Arts Section was unlike any other— holding three original External Arts whose very creators had long since abandoned them to time.

These Arts were obsolete, their techniques discarded as the world moved forward.

To any Ranker, to any scholar versed in the ways of Mana and Aura, the term External Arts would only conjure one response—waste of time, irrelevant, unnecessary.

Even the creators themselves had labeled their own techniques as useless, no longer worth practicing.

External Arts, at their core, were pure body-training techniques, designed to shape and develop a specific physique, unique to each Art.

Yet—these methods had fallen into irrelevance.

They lacked any connection to internal energy.

They required years of relentless training before yielding results.

Worst of all—they were helpless against Internal Arts.

Those who practiced Internal Arts held an undeniable advantage of Mana and Aura, capable of overpowering and outclassing External Art practitioners with ease.

And so—their decline was inevitable.

But Ashok?

He knew something—a truth about External Arts that no one else in the world had uncovered.

A secret buried beneath centuries of dismissal and neglect.

Something that could change everything.

Ashok's fingers traced the worn edges of the manual.

'External Arts—the first step toward developing a physique, even for someone like me.'

A concept few truly understood, even fewer believed in.

Physique Traits, much like Supernatural Soul Traits, were extraordinarily rare.

Among the entire First-Year students, only Leon possessed a Physique Trait—the revered Heavenly Martial Physique.

A gift of birth, a mark of natural superiority, something the world accepted as unattainable unless granted by fate.

But Ashok saw the flaw in that belief.

'Just like Soul Traits, Physique Traits are considered gifts at birth—but unlike Soul Traits, Physique Traits can be developed.'

An untapped truth hidden beneath centuries of misconception.

To craft a Physique Trait, one did not simply rely on luck—it required careful acquisition of five distinct core traits, each essential to shaping the body into something beyond normal human limits.

Body-Related Trait

Bone-Related Trait

Blood-Related Trait

Heart-Related Trait

Mind-Related Trait

Ashok had already one—Focalism, a Mind-Related Trait, that he inherited from his previous life.

But the others?

Still out of reach—for now.

'Heart and Bone can be acquired in time as for Blood it is tied to lineage, which means I need to uncover my own bloodline first. So it is also in the future' thought Ashok.

His grip on the manual tightened, his thoughts sharpening.

'And with this External Art—I should be able to attain the Body-Related Trait I need.'

A Body Trait was the cornerstone—the foundation upon which all other physical enhancements were built.

For Ashok, the choice of his first step was critical.

Three External Arts lay before him in the entire Academy, each possessing distinct qualities.

The first—the Mass Muscle Technique—a creation of the Barbarians, designed solely for brute strength and size.

It cultivated pure strength, amplifying muscle mass beyond normal human limits.

But Ashok had no interest in shaping himself into a large piece of meat. Strength alone wasn't his path.

Instead, he had already deliberated extensively on two alternatives—the Helion Flow Technique and the Iron Skin Discipline.

The Helion Flow Technique bore the mark of the Sun Church, tracing back to the Ancient Era where Paladins underwent its rigorous training.

It wasn't a combat style—it was a discipline, a regime designed to perfect muscle control.

Its singular focus?

Extreme flexibility and agility.

Then there was the Iron Skin Discipline, a creation of the monks who chose to seclude themselves from the World, it forged in their relentless survival against the wilderness.

Unlike Helion Flow, which refined motion, Iron Skin tempered the body itself, strengthening the very fabric of skin—making it resistant to extreme temperatures, cuts, and blunt force trauma.

A shield in itself.

Both techniques held immense value, each offering distinct advantages depending on the battlefield, the opponent, and the conditions.

And if Ashok had the luxury of time, he would have sought to master both.

But time was his greatest enemy.

He couldn't afford to walk two paths at once.

And so, the decision weighed heavy.

But Ashok's decision was set—the Helion Flow Technique.

The choice had been a calculated one.

Compared to the Iron Skin Discipline, it was far easier to master, requiring less extreme conditioning.

And, more importantly—he wanted to keep his hair.

The Iron Skin Discipline demanded relentless training under severe conditions.

The risk of losing hair due to its harsh body tempering process was alarmingly high.

He refused to turn bald, further diminishing his already average looking body into something even worse. He did not want to look like a monk who have left mortal desires.

Ashok was someone who had more desires than anyone in this world.

His thoughts churned as he walked, his footsteps echoing through the Art and Spell Hall.

At the far end of the hall, there was no grand exit, no imposing doors—only a modest counter, occupied by an old man, casually flipping through a worn newspaper, the pages rustling under his fingers.

The moment Ashok stepped forward, the man's sharp eyes flicked up, settling on him with a measured glance.

Setting his newspaper aside, he spoke in an authoritative yet neutral tone.

"You are the first to arrive, student. Give me your ID card and your chosen Art Manual."

Without hesitation, Ashok handed over the manual, his fingers momentarily brushing against its aged cover.

As he retrieved his ID card, the old man's gaze lingered on the book.

A faint trace of nostalgia flickered across his features.

"To think there are still Arts like these left in this place."

His voice carried a subtle weight—something between curiosity and contemplation.

Then, as his fingers traced the edges of the manual, he asked the inevitable question.

"Student, why did you pick an External Art out of all the different ones available? Surely, you must know that these Arts are obsolete these days?"

A pause stretched between them.

The atmosphere was heavy with expectation.

Ashok met the man's gaze steadily, his stance firm, his resolve unwavering.

"I know."

The old man leaned forward slightly, his sharp gaze fixed on Ashok, the weight of curiosity evident in his expression.

His tone was calm, but beneath it lay years of understanding—the wisdom of someone who had seen countless students pass through the hall, all choosing paths that adhered to unconventional thinking.

"Then you must also know why External Arts became obsolete."

His voice carried no hostility, only genuine inquiry, like a man testing the depth of another's resolve.

"External Arts simply train the body. And the body can be trained through simple exercises. A student automatically strengthens themselves when practicing Weapon Arts—even just swinging a blade without technique refines muscles and endurance. So why waste your time?"

A challenge.

A question meant to probe Ashok's reasoning.

But Ashok did not falter.

"The Arts may be obsolete, but their creators were not fools. The answer lies in the direction of training." Said Ashok casually.

For a brief moment, the old man said nothing. His eyes narrowed, studying Ashok with calculated silence.

Then, finally, he leaned back, exhaling slowly.

"Well, it is your choice."

A subtle pause lingered before he continued.

"But in the Academy's registry, External Arts are no longer classified as recognized combat disciplines. As such, you may pick another Art Manual along with this one."

'This is it—the hidden piece of the Art and Spell Hall.'

A long-standing loophole, buried within the Academy's system.

If a student chose an External Art first, they would be granted the right to claim a second Art for free.

But there was a trick to it—a restriction deliberately woven into the rule.

If a student selected another Art first, then later attempted to claim an External Art, this hidden piece would not work.

Ashok's voice rang clear as he asked a question

"Teacher, you must know every single Art in this Hall?"

The old man, seated behind the counter was about to raise his newspaper thinking the student would leave but his eyes flicked upward, sharp with experience, as he answered.

"I do."

Ashok nodded slightly before stating his request with quiet certainty.

"Then give me the most basic foundation-type Mana Internal Art."

This time, the old man paused, his brow furrowing as a peculiar expression settled on his face. Confusion. Disbelief.

Even mild amusement.

His gaze narrowed as he studied Ashok, the corner of his lips twitching with an unspoken thought.

"Kid, answer me honestly. Do you have a peculiar hobby for chasing forgotten things, or do you genuinely not understand the value of Art Manuals?"

His voice carried no malice—just the incredulity of a man who had seen generations of students pass through the Academy, none of whom had ever requested something so outdated.

Aether Class students—those at the pinnacle of talent—would never settle for something so elementary.

Even children in noble households no longer bothered to learn the basics, skipping directly to advanced techniques.

Yet Ashok's thought process was unlike anyone else's.

Unlike the old man—unlike the countless students raised among mana and cultivation—Ashok had lived in a world of ordinary humans.

Just days ago, he had been one himself.

His presence in this fantasy-driven world did not magically grant him power.

He also was some unnamed extra who did not have a single mana related talent.

He was at zero.

And he understood that far better than anyone else did.

If he chose a higher-tier Internal Art, it would be useless to him.

He knew everything about Mana in theory but he lacked the foundational understanding, the ability to tap into mana.

And with higher-tier techniques, the difficulty of comprehension only increased.

For someone like him—someone new to mana altogether—starting from the absolute basics was the only logical choice.

And so, Ashok met the old man's skeptical gaze, unshaken.

"Let's just say I have my own circumstances."