The Editor Is An Extra Chapter 25: Fog of doubt

Novel: The Editor Is An Extra Author: ElderSpectre Updated: Jun 07, 2026

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Now reading: Chapter 25: Fog of doubt from The Editor Is An Extra, a Fantasy novel by ElderSpectre.

***3rd POV***

"Let’s just hope this ends well." Damon sighed as he ran the length of the rock bridge.

The mont he stepped into the fog, it felt like his mind was being clouded by fog, pun intended.

Then sothing crashed down on his mind, not like a sledgehamr, but subtle, and insidious, like a soft invasive force.

’Why am I doing this?’ he found himself questioning.

’They said I was a good for nothing, a trash, so why am I even doing this?’

’Who knows? maybe they were right about after all. That I wouldn’t amount to anything.’

’Then if it’s true, shouldn’t I just turn back?’

’That’s right, I should just turn back.’

’Who or what even brought to this world.’

’I was a prince living a carefree life, I should just go back to the way I was before.’

’I an, what even is the point?’

’The world was never one ant for survival. Almost every nad character ends up dying, save for the protagonist and his lovers.’

’When the Darkwalker sovereign descends, everyone is going to die either way.’

’So why try to resist?’

’It is all pointless.’

’You will die, I will die, everyone will die.’ he thought.

But at that thought, his eyes suddenly cleared a bit.

"N...no, why am I thinking like this? this isn’t like .’

Then it clicked.

’Right it’s the doing of the fog.’ he realized.

’Yeah what does it do again?’ he pondered.

’...’ But then his eyes suddenly glazed once more.

’What’s the point of getting stronger?’

’I’m an editor who got exiled.’

’In the end, nothing I ever do will ever amount to anything.’

’I should just turn back before it’s too late.’

’I am not the protagonist.’

’I won’t just survive anything with insane luck.’

’So it’s better to give up n....’

"POW!" a slapping sound echoed through the fog, snapping Damon’s thoughts with a red paw mark visible on his cheek.

"Snap out of it idiot!" At so point Bubbles had appeared on his shoulder.

"...." Damon stared absentmindedly.

"Bubbles?" he muttered.

"We should give up, we can’t amount to anything." Damon muttered, this ti out loud.

Bubbles scoffed.

"Speak for yourself." "And I said," "POW!" "Snap out of it!" he smacked Damon’s other cheek.

"...." Damon once again stared into the fog absentmindedly.

"It is pointless, it is all pointless." he muttered.

"There is no point in getting stronger."

"I am not destined for greatness."

"Aiiiiish, this shit is really starting to get on my nerves." Bubbles muttered in frustration.

"I said,"

"POW!"

"Snap," "POW!"

"Out," "POW!"

"Of," "POW!"

"It!"

Bubbles kept hitting Damon in quick succession.

"..." Damon was once again silent for a mont.

"I was a good for nothing prince living a carefree life, I shouldn’t have been brought into this world."

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought he was brought to save the world, and prevent certain things from happening. But that wasn’t possible, he was him, a nobody, there was no way he could amount to anything.

"I swear..." Bubbles was about to flip out when sothing occured to him.

Damon had called himself, an editor that had gotten exiled. And now he had called himself a prince that shouldn’t have been brought into this world.

"Did his two streams of mories get jumbled? Bubbles muttered with a contemplative look, which made the winged cat look cuter.

But Damon continued.

"I’m useless, I don’t even rember my parents’ faces, and my siblings detest for having no potential."

"He’s doing it again!" Bubbles exclaid. This ti when Damon had said he didn’t rember his parents’, he ant his parents from earth. But the siblings he ntioned that detested him, were here in Nahaar.

"What is his real identity really?" Bubbles pondered.

The winged cat had been questioning that ever since it was born.

Damon didn’t seem to realize it, but he sotis got lost in between the two mories.

Sotis he’d talk as if he was a prince that was born and grew up in Nahaar, and so tis he would talk like the editor who witnessed Alistair’s story from the screen of a web novel.

Like from the ti he talked about ’the bitch’, he said it as if everything had happened to him, but then when it ca to knowing how it was the bitch that did it, he said that he had read about how ’Damon’ was frad.

’So which is it?’ Bubbles thought glancing at the grey eyes youth who was still doubting himself.

"Compared to the threats coming, I don’t even qualify as cannon fodder. So why even waste my ti trying to grow stronger?"

"Whether I grow stronger or not, I won’t stand a chance against what’s coming."

"So it’s better I go relax and live out my life, while there is still ti left."

"Yes, I’m as useless as they co, whether as an editor, or as a prince, I will never...."

Damon suddenly paused. Perhaps it was due his pride as a prince or his conviction, his eyes gained a silver of clarity while saying that sentence.

".... I will never..." he couldn’t complete whatever sentence he wanted to say.

"....Where am I?" he voiced out his thoughts, or at least tried to. His lips didn’t move an inch.

It wasn’t quick, but his brain caught on.

’Right.... the fog.’ he thought. ’It’s the one placing all these doubts in my head. Shit, I need to get out of it’s area of influence.’

’But can I even do that?’ his doubts returned.

’No!’ he inwardly exclaid, realizing that the doubts were trying to take roots in his mind again.

’It’s the doubts again. I can do it, I can get out of it’s area of influence.’ he thought with determination.

Just as he thought that, the persuasive force returned even stronger, this ti with a voice of it’s own.

’You can never make it.’ it whispered.

’Isn’t it better to save yourself the trouble and give up now?’ it continued.

’Yes it’s bett....’

"No!" Damon suddenly snapped. He’d had enough of the fog telling him what to do. Who the hell did it think it was telling him what was better and not for him?

"By the gods, you’re finally out of your stupor." Bubbles flew before Damon’s face. "I’ve been trying to wake you up for the past twenty minutes, but you weren’t responding."

Damon let out a sigh.

"Let’s get out of here." he clutched the winged cat mid air, and started running through the fog. Who knew when the fog’s insidious whisper would co down on him.

"Hey, unhand this instant, I can move my myself." Bubbles protested.

"Shut up, we don’t have much ti." Damon chided. The fog here was more see through than the one at the Ashen Deadlands, for he could see about ten to twelve ters.

While moving through the fog, Damon at several instance had to weave through other aspirants stuck in the fog. And man were there a lot of them.

’This second part is the part that eliminates most aspirants after all.’ Damon thought. The first part was barely a warm up, most aspirants would get past the first part of the exam.

It was this second part, that was the true nightmare. By now, Damon had seen over a hundred youths staring listlessly into the air.

But he didn’t have ti to admire the spectacle. He could already feel the persuasive voice slowly creeping back. He was continuously resisting it with pure willpower.

"Full speed ahead Capitan." Bubbles saluted.

"If you don’t shut up, I’ll launch you backwards." Damon threatened.

’Why are you resisting?’

’Shit.’ Damon thought, just when he was already seeing the end of the foggy path, the persuasive voice smashed into his mind like a surge of tidal wave.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears, way louder than the entire surroundings.

His knees trembled.

"Co on Captain, you can do it, just a little more.’ Bubbles cheered.

Damon grimaced.

"You’re distracting , but I think it’s working."

He continued running, and just as he felt he felt like his mind was about to once again surrender to the fog, the whispers receded.

It was then that he realized that the fog had thinned to considerable extents.

He didn’t waste ti though, It wasn’t until he sprinted out of the fog’s reach that he heaved a sigh of relief.

"Damn, that took a lot out of my ntal energy." he muttered.

Then he frowned.

"But why is it that it’s my face that feels so painful?"

Bubbles still clutched in Damon’s hands audibly gulped.