Path of the Extra

Leo… or perhaps it’s better to say Azriel now. Azriel had gone through a lot. Some days, he wondered how he still remained sane.

Then again, perhaps he wasn’t sane at all, merely deceiving himself.

Other days, he questioned whether it would be better to give up.

But then again…

He didn’t want that.

He didn’t want to give up. And there wasn’t some grand reason for it—he simply refused to die. That was all there was to it.

And if he were going to die, it would at least have to be a death worth dying for. It had to be satisfying.

Not that he actually thought much about dying. What he mostly thought about was survival.

Since the day he was transported into this book, surviving had been his only thought.

Why was he even in this book?

Azriel had no idea.

One moment, he had simply wanted a glass of water. The next, he was struck with a pain that felt like death itself.

And then, he found himself thrown into a world of absolute chaos.

Literal horrors, straight out of what he could only assume was hell.

Black swirling portals that spewed creatures, hunting down men, women, and children, devouring them, trampling them.

And then…

There were other humans.

Humans with powers beyond his wildest imagination, fighting back against the chaos.

The one who stood out the most, back then, was a man—a man who barely moved, yet slaughtered the horrors with effortless ease.

Just looking at him back then made Azriel’s heart tremble in awe.

And when he was in awe, he forgot about himself.

And that’s when the horrors managed to reach him, hurting him.

The moment Azriel’s blood was spilled, he winced, closing his eyes.

The sound of screams, of chaos—everything—faded away.

It felt peaceful.

He thought he had died.

But when he opened his eyes, bloodied and bleeding out, he found himself in some kind of grand church. A church made of pure white marble.

The white marble reflected his own face, his own body.

That’s when Azriel noticed something more disturbing—something more wrong.

He wasn’t in his own body anymore.

He wasn’t Leo Karumi.

Instead, he was in the body of a young boy, with a face that could only be described as eye candy. The kind of face that seemed harmless, even cute.

With black hair that shone like the finest obsidian and eyes that matched rubies, the most precious of gems.

He might have marveled at it… if not for the agonizing injuries that still clung to him.

He was in an injured body that wasn’t his own.

Even though there was no killing, no slaughter here, it was still chaos for Azriel.

Again, he had no idea what was going on.

Eventually, he managed to drag himself through the breathtaking church, a place that seemed as if it had been crafted by a god itself.

And there, he found he wasn’t alone.

No.

There was a young, handsome yet cute boy in that church with him.

Silver hair, gleaming and reflecting the white marble.

Red eyes, just like his.

That boy…

He was an interesting boy. A boy with no name, and, to Azriel’s utter surprise and heartbreak, the boy had been in that church for as long as he could remember.

Having no choice, Azriel and the boy began to live together in the church.

Since the boy had no name, Azriel simply gave him one.

He called him Nol.

Azriel and Nol spent their time together, and over time, Azriel noticed something remarkable about the ring he had on.

It had bandages and tools, enough to treat his injuries and keep them from worsening.

And then, from that day on, Azriel and Nol spent every day together in that church, learning more about each other. Nol, in particular, knew nothing, and Azriel, being the more knowledgeable of the two, taught him everything he could. What else could he do? At least Nol picked up things quickly.

Eventually, Azriel realized exactly where he was.

Inside the very book he had been reading: Path of Heroes: Battle Against the End.

How did he realize this?

Whenever Azriel fell asleep, he would dream.

Dreams of a life that wasn’t his.

But it was the body of his.

He would see memories—experience them.

Memories from when he was a child.

Memories of when he first killed a Void Creature.

They all slowly came back to him, changing him, making him realize.

He was not in his old world anymore.

He had been transmigrated.

And Leo Karumi…

He was dead.

Days passed.

Things happened.

After a few months—at least, that’s what Azriel and Nol presumed, since there was no way to know how much time had actually passed—Azriel’s injuries healed.

And by that time, Azriel knew more than Nol. Even in this book, he had somehow managed to teach Nol a few things. Things about his status that Nol didn’t even know he had.

They discovered that this very church was actually called [White Haven]. It was an [Unique Skill] of Nol’s.

With that, Azriel and Nol also discovered that Nol could send people away.

But…

He wasn’t strong enough to leave [White Haven] himself.

Azriel promised he would come back.

Reluctantly, Nol agreed.

And then, Azriel left [White Haven].

When he did, however…

He found himself in hell.

*****

Iryndra’s face instantly turned icy. Azriel was shocked for a brief moment but quickly composed himself, offering a slight smile.

“It’s starting to creep me out how obsessed you are with me, War,” he said. “I might not have spoken much to you before, so I get it. Maybe there’s been some misunderstanding. Let me clarify something for you… I’m straight. Sorry. The problem’s me, not you.”

Subject 431’s face twitched, his expression hardening. He chuckled darkly.

“Enough with the games. I don’t care about whatever is going on here, or what you’re trying to pull. You want to escape? Fine. You can do that after you beat me. Which, if you haven’t realized by now, isn’t going to happen. We’ve still got an hour before the drug wears off.”

Azriel narrowed his eyes, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him as his long hair fell over his gaze. Deep down, he felt what War felt: that lingering anger, the humiliation from their last fight. The way he lost. He wanted revenge. He wanted to win. But…

‘There’s no time for that.’

If he fought War, Dr. Arthur and Dr. Vincent would know he was here. He couldn’t risk them seeing Iryndra. She had to be missing—or dead—without anyone knowing what happened to her. There was no time to waste.

Where was he now?

Azriel knew where he was.

He was in the Void Realm.

Above him, Vincent was probably trying to subdue everyone, working overtime to avoid killing any subjects, despite the fact that he didn’t seem to care much about their lives. Meanwhile, Arthur was searching for the vial, killing anyone who got in his way.

The fragile system the two doctors had built to control the subjects was based on fear. And now, that fear had erupted into chaos. The two of them were bound to clash, their goals in direct conflict. And that would draw the attention of the Void creatures outside the facility.

Which… wasn’t good.

Azriel had learned a lot during his time here as a subject.

Arthur liked to talk.

This facility was built in a known territory… but one that had never been explored. Meaning whatever horrors lurked outside could possibly wipe the entire place out.

Azriel was betting on that.

If Vincent and Arthur failed to attract the attention of these horrors, Azriel would destroy the facility himself.

He’d come up with several plans since his arrival. But none of them were certain. They were all gambles.

But this one…

This gamble, Azriel was certain, would work.

Why?

Because every day, at a certain hour, all the subjects were forced back into their cells. The lights went out. The entire facility went dead silent. No one could make a sound, like they had to act dead, like the place was abandoned.

And that silence lasted for hours.

In those hours, Azriel consumed the mana from the air, since they weren’t allowed to touch the mana cores from the Void creatures or the humans.

He hadn’t killed many humans like the other subjects forced to fight in the coliseum. Azriel and the other three Horsemen were busy with separate training programs, getting stronger and fighting Void creatures instead. It wasn’t much different—they still weren’t allowed to consume the mana cores.

The point was, Azriel was certain there was something out there, something close to this facility, that made even Arthur and Vincent nervous.

A nightmare even the grandmaster wouldn’t dare face.

Azriel would let them fight it out, and while they tore each other apart, they would also destroy the entire facility.

He sighed as he turned his gaze to War.

“Give me a minute.”

He turned his back on War, knowing the Iron King had waited too long to face him on equal ground. There was no way he would resort to underhanded methods to kill Azriel now. War wanted a fair fight.

Azriel crouched down to Iryndra’s level, smiling softly.

“You need to leave without me. Go somewhere safe—somewhere no one can find you.”

Iryndra’s eyes widened in shock. Her lips trembled.

“W-why? Mister, aren’t you coming with me?”

Azriel met her gaze gently.

“I promised you I’d be your family. No family of mine is going to live their life on the run, scared. War saw you alive with me. I need to take care of him, fast. Dr. Arthur and Vincent might show up soon, or someone else. I can’t let anyone see you. I need everyone to think you died in the chaos.”

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Her golden eyes started to tremble as he continued.

“You’ve done your part, Iryndra. Now it’s my turn. I can’t leave until this place is destroyed. New Eden ends today—one way or another.”

Iryndra bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes.

“But…”

Azriel wiped them away softly.

“You’re free now. Truly free. If you need to cry, then cry. Let it all out. No one can stop you, no one can judge you. You’re dead now. No one judges the dead. No one expects anything from you. Your collars are gone, your chains are gone.”

Drip… Drip…!

Her trembling hands gripped his, and he pulled away, feeling a burning sensation on his left palm.

A tiny black star appeared there.

Azriel looked down at it, confused, his eyes meeting Iryndra’s. Her tears flowed freely, but… she smiled.

A smile that spoke of lies.

A smile born of tears.

A smile woven from pain.

“…Mister. All you have to do is channel your mana into your palm and think of me. I’ll know, and I’ll come. Please… don’t leave me. You’re the first person who’s ever seen me for who I really am, not just as an object. You said I’m your little sister now, didn’t you? I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait for you to call me. But if you die… if you don’t come back… I’ll still wait. I’ll wait forever.”

Azriel watched the black star vanish from his palm and sighed. Then, with a gentle hand on her head, he whispered, “I’ll come back as soon as I’m done with this. I promise.”

Iryndra looked at him one last time, then closed her eyes tightly.

And then… she was gone.

Seeing her suddenly vanish, Azriel chuckled softly, glancing down at his palm where she had marked him. A sad smile tugged at the corner of his lips before he straightened up and turned to face War, who was staring at him with dark intensity.

“I never thought you’d show any real emotion, let alone for someone—a Heptarch, no less. So, there is a heart in there after all, huh, kid?”

War took a step forward, a dark grin stretching across his face.

“It’s almost like that child finally made your heart beat again.”

With a fluid motion, his body morphed into iron, and his grin widened.

“Maybe after killing you, I’ll rip that heart out and feast on it. I mean, it must be something special, right? After all… it is the heart touched by a Heptarch.”