Path of the Extra

Everyone was unconscious—everyone except Celestina, who knelt on the rubble-strewn ground, and Azriel, who stood before her with an expression she couldn’t read.

His gaze eventually drifted toward the corpse of the Grade 3 Abyssal lying behind her, its head severed cleanly from its body. Next to her, a dull, empty mana core rested in the dust.

Then, his eyes met hers again. He took a few steps closer and spoke, his voice tinged with something… worry.

“Are you alright? Do you need a health potion?”

“Huh? Ah… no, I have my own. Thanks.”

Celestina answered in surprise. And yet, for a reason she couldn’t quite grasp, a strange tension hung between them—one that unsettled her.

Why?

Her own mind was frightening her, whispering things about the boy standing before her.

Shaking her head slightly, as if to dispel the intrusive thoughts, she forced herself to speak.

“What about you…? Are you sure you’re feeling fine?”

“…Yes. As you can see, I’ve leveled up. Though fighting the Black Antlered King brought me to the verge of death.”

His lips curled into a soft, almost serene smile.

“I suppose I was lucky. If killing it hadn’t pushed me into becoming a Grade 3 Advanced, I would have been here with a body… less gazeable.”

Celestina stared at him.

“…We both got lucky.”

“…Yeah.”

What was this?

This strange, murky feeling, like she was sinking into something she couldn’t fight against. It made her hyper-aware of every breath, every blink.

Don’t trust him.

Doubt him. Doubt Azriel.

Why?

Her head throbbed—a sharp, persistent ache, pressing against her thoughts, demanding to be acknowledged. The pain grew worse, and without thinking, she bit her lip, trying to suppress it.

Then, strangely, it stopped.

The moment she averted her gaze from Azriel, the ache and the whispers vanished.

Her expression twisted in confusion. She parted her lips to say something, but before she could, Azriel spoke first.

“Did you get what you wanted?”

“Huh?”

Her head snapped up, eyes widening. Another wave of confusion crashed into her. And then—

The pain returned.

The whispers slithered back into her mind like silk brushing against her thoughts.

And yet, she ignored them.

Instead, she looked at him. His expression remained soft, his smile gentle.

Her voice trembled without her realizing it.

“W-what do you mean by that?”

Azriel’s gaze never wavered.

“This. All of this. Wasn’t it because you were searching for something? An answer to a question?”

“…!”

Her eyes widened as far as they could go.

Ah. Right.

He knew.

She knew that he knew.

But she hadn’t expected him to ask. Not now.

And yet—

Celestina could only lower her head once more.

The pain faded. The whispers vanished.

She clenched her fists, gritting her teeth.

Another silence settled between them, broken only by their uneven breaths and the rhythmic rise and fall of their unconscious comrades.

Blood trickled down Celestina’s chin, yet she did not lift her face.

She hated this.

Why did she feel so vulnerable right now? If someone attacked her mind—even with the weakest attempt—she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist.

She hated it.

Everything.

Her gray eyes darkened, revealing something lurking beneath—the hollow abyss of despair. A void of hopelessness.

And then—

“Ah…!”

Her voice trembled, and the pain returned, sharper, deeper. The whispers grew louder, gnawing at her mind, consuming it.

Celestina’s hands shot up, gripping her face, her fingernails digging into her skin. Warm blood trickled down her cheeks.

Why!? Why now!?

Ah… it was his gaze.

His gaze!

Her body convulsed, trembling violently. To anyone else, she must have looked like a madwoman, overtaken by delirium. And yet, Azriel remained motionless, watching her in silence. Then, with slow deliberation, he stepped forward, knelt, and placed his fingers beneath her chin, forcing her weakened body to meet his eyes.

Celestina shuddered.

It felt like snakes slithered across her skin, coiling around her limbs, tightening with every breath.

Those eyes…

Beautiful. Fragile. Dangerous.

The whispers roared, splitting her mind apart. She clutched her head, pressing her hands over her ears, trying—failing—to shut them out. The pain was unbearable.

“S-stop! Please stop!”

She squeezed her eyes shut.

She didn’t see Azriel’s expression twist in shock.

“…You can resist his influence.”

“Ngh…!”

“And that look just now… That wasn’t his doing, was it?”

His voice was quiet, almost to himself, she could barely register it—muffled, distant, like words spoken from beneath water.

“In the book, there was no mention of this. So either you hid it well… or is it because of me?”

Azriel’s grip loosened. He stood, releasing her chin, stepping away.

“But the more you resist, the worse it will get for you.”

If she kept fighting, she would die.

Her mind would shatter.

Her soul—torn apart.

Azriel exhaled, eyes narrowing in thought.

“If I use a skill gifted by her… would it cancel or lessen this?”

He was speaking again, but Celestina could not comprehend his words.

The whispers drowned him out.

Then—Azriel lifted his hand.

A white, translucent flame flickered to life, wrapping around her body.

Celestina’s eyes shot open.

The pain and whispers recoiled, pushed back to the furthest corners of her mind. They still lingered, faint and persistent, but distant—manageable.

And then, somehow, her gaze found his once more.

Their eyes locked.

His crimson irises burned brighter now, gleaming in the dim light.

Those eyes…

It was like they were trying to tell her something, whisper something only she could understand. But even now, even as she stared into them, she couldn’t grasp what it was.

Azriel spoke again.

And this time, Celestina, who had been on the verge of asking what was happening to her, fell silent.

“Did you get what you wanted?”

A simple question, but…

Something was wrong. No, everything was wrong. The way she felt was wrong.

What was this?

She couldn’t comprehend what was happening, and when Azriel asked that question again, she felt compelled to answer. Her mouth moved on its own.

“…No.”

Celestina’s fist clenched tighter.

“I didn’t…”

Why…?

“I couldn’t.”

Weak.

“It’s impossible.”

There was no point.

“…I am too much of a fool to understand.”

Useless.

“Especially against you.”

She couldn’t understand. Words spilled out—words she had never even considered revealing. Trembling, struggling, she forced them out.

“When… we were in the void dungeon… you could have prevented all the deaths that happened. But you didn’t. Instead, you took the opportunity… to kill a Heptarch. You killed Instructor Benson and his men, somehow winning—winning even when you shouldn’t have had to reach that point. And when you did… when the Heptarch came, you outplayed him, us, everyone. And when he was brought before you, with his limbs cut off by Solomon himself—Solomon, who obeyed you—despite you losing your hand to make it happen…

I was afraid.

Even when he had no hands or legs, you stood before him and… offered mercy. For the sake of gaining a powerful ally, you offered him mercy. And when he refused, you ordered it—you watched as his head was torn off, while we couldn’t even bear to look.

To me… it felt like you were seeing the entire forest, while we could only see the trees.

That was the moment I first realized and thought… how lucky we were to have had to deal with only one Crimson Child.”

More blood dripped onto the broken ground.

“And how unlucky we are now… to have to deal with another. How is anyone supposed to compete with the two of you? No matter how much I push myself, no matter how hard I try… No. It’s precisely because I can’t force myself like the two of you that I—I am simply too weak. Even the gods must have forsaken someone as pathetic as me.”

“Celestina…”

Her expression shattered like broken glass, completely crumbling away.

“Even now, my mind is trying to justify myself, trying to blame you for everything..!

A-all I do is whine! All I do is talk! Words that hold no value at all! I-I… I am worthless! Empty and worthless! Instead of ever daring to call you the Unworthy Prince… they should have called me the Unworthy Princess..! Look at the amount of problems I have caused!”

“….”

Azriel simply looked at her silently.

This was it, really.

Now all he had to do was activate [Villain’s Script]… No, even without that, he could easily do what must be done.

Break her completely.

In his eyes, Celestina was a mess—the complete opposite of how she was in the book.

A long sigh escaped Azriel’s lips as she kept looking down, trembling.

Somehow, she was resisting the influence of the God of Time… but in return, she had revealed a side of herself that she normally never would have.

In the end, it didn’t matter.

It was do or don’t.

And don’t was no longer an option for Azriel.

He knelt on one knee in front of her, placing a hand on her cheek. She flinched, but before she could pull away, his fingers held her still, forcing her to meet his glowing eyes. Then, in a voice devoid of warmth, he spoke.

“Who are you?”

“…W-what?”

She looked at him, confused.

Azriel repeated himself.

“Who are you?”

“…M-me? C-Celestina… Celestina Frost?”

“That is right. You are Celestina Frost, heiress of the Frost Clan, daughter of King Ragnar Frost and Queen Lyraelle. One of the only three known humans to possess the light affinity. Dozens of incredible achievements under your name—achievements so great that people doubt your age every time they see them.”

“..!”

Meeting his gaze, her eyes trembled before she looked down again, whispering in a hoarse voice.

“Compared to Jasmine… even my greatest achievement means nothing. If everything about you were known, I-I’d be insignificant.”

At her words, Azriel scowled before scoffing.

“Of course it does.” He sighed.

“Haa… Listen, I understand how you feel, okay? You feel useless, desperate, standing in front of a giant fucking wall you can’t seem to break through. Time keeps moving forward, and the people you care about are moving with it, while you’re stuck.

I’ve been where you are. No—I still am. But do you know what your father once said to me, back when I clawed my way back to Europe? He told me that being weak is a sin in this world. And for those who try to stay weak… they might as well be slowly killing themselves.”

She looked at him, startled.

“…Dad really said that?”

Azriel nodded with a wry smile.

“In fact, he even crushed my dreams of owning a coffee shop. Ah! But we can talk about that another time!” He shook his head.

“What I mean to say is—I agree with his words now. We can’t allow our past failures to be an excuse for staying weak. We can’t let our current struggles define us. Always remember who you are. Too many people depend on you. Everyone’s future does.”

“…It does?”

“Yes. It does. There is no future without Celestina Frost.”

Celestina blinked.

His eyes—they weren’t lying. He truly believed the words he spoke. There wasn’t a single trace of hesitation in them.

“The path to strength is never going to be easy,” Azriel continued. “It’s going to be hell. But that’s the price we pay—to survive. And survival will only make us stronger.”

She lowered her head, lips trembling.

.

.

.

.

“Really..?”

“Yes.”

“But…”

“Trust me.”

“Can I really still become stronger?”

“Of course. Just be yourself instead of pretending to be someone you’re not… I’m sure you’ll finally start realizing it then.”

“…To be yourself…”

.

.

.

.

“I… I think I understand… Thank you, Azriel.”

Azriel smiled lightly.

“Ah…”

Then, he pulled back.

The comfortable coldness of his hand on her cheek vanished.

Without realizing it, she let out a small sound of disappointment.

Azriel, oblivious, scratched his cheek before speaking.

“Well, if you really wish to thank me, I’ll accept—as long as you deal with the aftermath of all this. It’s been a long day, so I’ll head out now before the others wake up, alright?”

“H-huh…? Ah, yes. Of course. I-I’ll handle it!”

“Great. Well then, I’ll see you back at the academy. Goodbye.”

Azriel nodded with a smile before casting one last glance at the unconscious figures around them. Then, without another word, he turned around and walked away.

Celestina’s grey eyes followed his back, watching as his figure became smaller and smaller, refusing to look elsewhere.

The pain in her head was gone.

The feeling that something was wrong was gone.

The whispers were gone.

And when he finally disappeared—

…Those very same grey eyes remained fixed on the empty space where he had stood.

“…Goodbye.”

*****

‘Yes… this is how it should be.’

Azriel stopped when he was far enough, releasing another tired sigh.

No one was going to control him.

A moment later, a panel flashed before his vision—but it wasn’t part of his status.

[The God of Time feels his trust has been betrayed. The God of Time seeks justice for his hospitality being broken and will unleash his wrath upon the Son of Death.]

“..!”

[!@%# has detected the presence of the God of Time. The God of Time has broken a rule. The God of Time must be punished. The Son of Death has broken a rule. The Son of Death must be punished.]

[!@%# has judged and lets this matter go just this once. Remember: breaking the rules will result in severe punishment.]

[The God of Time is saddened. The presence of the God of Time has vanished.]

[!@%# wishes to send a message to the Son of Death. Message sent.]

[…For my failure in allowing this to happen, and for the rules that have been broken, I apologize. Please do not come into contact with #####—the God of Time—on this planet. As I have said to #####, your presence, along with the others, is hidden by my will. In return, my presence will also remain concealed. No rules are to be broken, so all of you, please stop breaking them before ##### finds out. God of Time, Son of Time, Son of Death. Do not use me again, and do not try to contact me. Goodbye.]

Azriel’s eyes widened as he read the words before him.

Then…

His lips curved upward—cold, cruel, victorious.

“Nice to meet you… World’s Providence.”

Of course, the world’s providence would have foreseen something like this…

A laugh followed before he resumed walking.

“Why waste [Villain’s Script] on her? Why put in so much effort… when you’ve so generously made it easier for me to help her grow stronger on her own?”

The God of Time hadn’t anticipated Azriel’s sudden shift.

For that, he was grateful.