Path of the Extra

Though tempted to refuse her offer, Azriel realized he had run out of excuses to decline her kindness. In the end, he had no choice but to accept—also because Liliane, Nol, and Celestina knew where he could find a room in this sprawling estate.

As it turned out, he didn’t need their guidance. A maid happened to pass by and led Azriel to a guest room. With so many participants housed here, most were staying in the servants’ quarters; but one glance at Azriel, then at the well-known Celestina at his side, then at Liliane—respected in her own right—and finally at Nol, who instructed the maid to give Azriel a proper room, was enough. She brought them to a spacious chamber, almost identical to Yelena’s.

Azriel sank onto the soft bed; it gave a little under his weight. Nol took a chair nearby, while Azriel looked up at the two beautiful women standing in front of him.

Truly—anyone would envy being in their place. Their place, not his. Not just Azriel’s, not even Nol’s.

Liliane stared at Azriel’s face and did everything in her power not to squeal. The Saintess of their world was respected, liked, doted on by many—and she returned those gestures with warmth. But she was human. She liked things, disliked things, cried, loved, and smiled like anyone else. And like many girls her age, she enjoyed looking at something—someone—pleasing to the eye. Perhaps that impulse was only amplified by her hobby of reading romance novels in her spare time.

So now, looking at Azriel, her inner fangirl sparked to life. She watched him intently while he returned the look with calm patience, expression nearly blank, blinking as he waited.

The scars on his face should have been off-putting. Instead, they did the opposite—lending him a roughened grace, sharpening the line between beauty and severity.

’No, no—breathe. How many times have I been scolded for this? Don’t do anything rash.’

Liliane scolded herself in silence. Her nature was good, but people sometimes questioned whether it suited a Saintess. For all her virtues, Liliane was—famously—bubbly, in public and in private. After so many reprimands, she tried to hold herself to proper etiquette—even at the auction before the “scenario.” But here, with so few around to correct her, she was freer than she should be. In this world she was the Saintess of the Moon; here, she was praised, not chided. The Pope’s temper belonged to another life and world.

’Ugh, I really can’t stop looking. He looks better than last time…’

Even the scars couldn’t make him ugly!

’He’s the perfect balance—handsome and pretty. No… more pretty than handsome? He’s beautiful. Yes. That’s the word!’

She shook herself.

’What am I saying!? Don’t forget how he was with that suspicious man at the auction! I hope the Pope has forgotten about the wings by now. Suspicious. The prince is suspicious! Don’t let your guard down around him!’

But… but—

’If my phone worked, I’d take a picture…’

Perhaps her hobbies were a problem.

Her gaze flicked to Celestina and Nol, then back to Azriel. Only then did she notice it.

’Wh—why are they so quiet…?’

…This is weird.

Liliane looked at Azriel, who was still watching her, waiting. When she glanced at Celestina, the other girl kept her eyes anywhere but on Azriel. Nol refused to look at him at all.

She blinked a few times as the air finally pressed in around her.

’What… in the name of the Ten? Why is it so awkward in here!?’

Gods, she wanted to run the moment it prickled across her skin!

Celestina moved at last, drew a chair out, and sat with composed grace, crossing one leg over the other and closing her eyes.

“Are… are we not going to heal him?” Liliane asked, trying to keep her voice steady. Wasn’t this a bit disrespectful?

Celestina opened her eyes and looked at her. The gray softened at once.

“Having one of us should be plenty to heal scars.”

Liliane nodded. That was true. For healing, Light was the most potent of all. Affinities suited to healing were rare in both Liliane’s world and this one, and none outperformed an effective health potion—except Light. Between Celestina and Liliane, Liliane’s Light affinity was stronger for restoration; they’d refined their gifts along different paths. Liliane had devoted herself to healing and support, able to mend others far better than most. Celestina could heal herself and others too, but her focus was to push what Light could be—to bend its concept toward attacks and other constructs.

So while either of them could outpace potions and healers of other affinities, Liliane was, objectively, better at mending.

’Then… why did you bother coming?’ she wanted to ask, but held her tongue.

“Have you rested enough?” Azriel’s voice drew her head up, snapping her thoughts in two.

’Rested? Does he think I’ve been resting this whole time—that that’s why I haven’t started yet?’

Heat rushed into her face.

’How embarrassing!’

Liliane coughed and nodded shamelessly.

“Yes, I have. Thank you.”

Her gaze dipped to his robe.

“Could you remove your upper garments, please? I need to see where all your wounds are.”

…She did. She had to see where all his scars were. Definitely no ulterior motives. Really!

Apparently innocent of her thoughts, Azriel complied without hesitation and stripped off the robe.

’Don’t gulp…’

She was tempted.

Revealing his torso was… very tempting.

’Despite the face… he’s fairly muscular. You wouldn’t know it with his clothes on.’

The thought didn’t have time to settle. In the next breath, she truly saw him—and her eyes flew wide. So did Celestina’s. So did Nol’s, who bit his lip and looked away.

“Just… how did that happen?” Liliane asked before she could stop herself.

These wounds—

’Was… was he tortured?’

Before her mind could blacken further, Nol spoke—and what he said was worse than anything she’d imagined.

“Master did that himself. Skinned himself. Mutilated his own body.”

Azriel shot him a look but said nothing. Celestina and Liliane stared at Azriel, shaken.

“Why would you do that?” Celestina asked. Whatever her earlier distance had been, worry lived plainly in her voice now.

Azriel still didn’t answer, so Nol did.

“Because he was poisoned.”

They both looked to Nol. This time he looked at Azriel; Azriel closed his eyes—permission enough. Nol told them everything Azriel had told him—from the Forest of Eternity to this very moment.

They listened, breath quick and tight, and paled by degrees.

When Nol finally stopped, Liliane swallowed and looked back at Azriel, who still had his eyes closed. The word madman had hovered on her tongue.

Then the word changed.

Her gaze softened. Respect edged in, and something like grief.

’To think… he’d harm himself for even the chance that others might need those health potions. How can someone be this kind—this selfless?’

She was startled. Thoroughly. The Saintess had met many in this scenario. There were good and bad among them, and a few genuinely kind enough to warm her heart.

But to suffer this much, for others?

’Are we seriously the same age?’

…She did not feel worthy of the title Saintess at all, not while looking at Azriel.

“I don’t understand. Why…”

Celestina’s murmur drew both Azriel’s and Liliane’s eyes. She stared at Azriel’s back, visibly conflicted, opened her mouth as if to speak, then shut it again and looked away, her expression shadowed.

Liliane blinked, baffled by the sudden shift. She knew the four heirs were franker with one another than with anyone else—of all of them, Celestina had grown closest to her, the kindest by nature despite the way she tried to hide it behind perfect princess poise. They were on a first-name basis, without titles. But it seems it wasn’t only the heirs who were open with each other; bonds ran between members of the four great clans too. Why else would Celestina look so pained—so conflicted—because of Azriel? There was history here, awkward and complicated.

“It was simple logic. We can’t count on you or the Saintess being present to heal every time. Using the few health potions we have on me would be wasteful when I can manage without.”

’He’s right… it really is just me and Celestina who can heal with our affinities here. So—yes—logically it makes sense. But it’s still…’

She couldn’t find the word.

Crazy. Kind. Selfless. Mad.

All of them, maybe.

Liliane’s gaze steadied. The levity drained from her face, replaced by a quiet resolve.

’I don’t know what to make of him. He’s suspicious—the man I saw him with, the thing he said right before we were pulled into this world, as if he knew… But when I first met him and nearly fainted, he helped me at once.’

Maybe that had been an act. Maybe not. Either way, right now, she only wanted to heal him.

She brushed a fingertip over one of the ragged scars on his chest. Azriel flinched. She jerked back, stricken.

“I—I’m sorry! Did that hurt a lot?”

“Master, you said you weren’t in pain anymore…” Nol added, worry tightening his brow. Celestina’s did the same.

“I’m not,” Azriel said quickly, irritation slipping through.

“My skin’s just more sensitive than normal. Probably a temporary side effect of the poison.” He looked at Liliane, serious.

“Continue.”

She obeyed, letting Light gather and seep beneath her hands.

“Where is my sister?” Azriel asked.

“You must have just missed her,” Celestina replied.

“She went outside. She should be back by evening.”

“I see…”

“Master also had inflammation in his lungs,” Nol blurted.

Azriel frowned at him.

“I feel fine now.”

“You couldn’t breathe or speak properly. You may as well let her check you properly, Master.”

Azriel looked as if he wanted to argue, then held his tongue and shifted the topic.

“So—you’re the Saintess of the Moon in this world?”

Liliane nodded, intent on her work.

“Yes. I served in the Moon Kingdom. It’s stricter there—more heavily guarded—people can lose their heads for saying the wrong thing. But the church itself was kind.”

“The church… And you’re the Saintess of the Sun, Celestina?”

“I am,” Celestina said with a small incline of her head.

Azriel’s mouth tipped wryly.

“Judging by your hair, your roles look reversed.”

Liliane couldn’t help agreeing. By appearances alone, she wore the sun and Celestina wore the moon.

“How did the two of you get here?” Azriel asked.

“I doubt either church would let its Saintess wander freely for long.”

“Because we staged kidnappings,” Celestina said, calm as glass.

“At first I played the dutiful Saintess, visiting the Count’s estate as often as I could. It became too difficult. After gathering what information I needed, we planned a ’kidnapping.’ I’ve been missing ever since. The royal family and the church haven’t announced it, but they’re searching madly. We did the same with Liliane—she had a diplomatic visit planned as a sign of peace, and before she crossed the border, we staged it. Neither case is public to avoid panic, but it’s dangerous for us to go outside now.”

“That makes sense,” Azriel said, sounding faintly impressed by the lengths they’d gone.

Liliane finished the last of his wounds—including the delicate work across his face—and, despite herself, an errant thought resurfaced.

’His ears and cheeks are red…?’

She set her palm lightly to his forehead. Azriel blinked at her, puzzled; her concern deepened.

“You’re burning up.”

’Is it a fever? It’s scorching.’

Azriel didn’t look surprised.

“Another side effect of the poison. Don’t worry.” But worry gnawed anyway. No one knew how long the poison’s teeth would linger—or what else it had left behind.

At last she drew the Light back, breath steadying as the glow faded from her hands. She wiped the sweat from her brow and stepped away.

“Thank you, Saintess,” Azriel said quietly.

“I’m grateful for your kindness.”

Liliane smiled and shook her head.

“Don’t thank me. It’s the rest of us who should thank you for going so far for us.”

She meant it. What Azriel had done might save lives in a world where every day seemed to unveil a new threat. But worry returned almost at once.

“You should eat something light and sleep for now, Your Highness. The fever might worsen. I’ll ask a maid to bring food.”

Azriel nodded, a gentle smile touching his mouth.

“I’ll do just that. Still—thank you again, Saintess.”

“If you truly want to thank me—and if you’re comfortable—please… call me by my first name.”

Azriel’s brows lifted. Heat rushed to Liliane’s cheeks.

’Why did I say that!? He’ll think I have a crush—!’

To her relief, Azriel’s smile warmed.

“Then… Liliane. Please feel free to call me by my name as well.”

She brightened visibly.

“Yes, of course—Azriel!”

Who wouldn’t be happy to hear their name spoken by someone beautiful? Liliane certainly was!

“Then I’ll leave you to rest, Azriel. I’ll see you soon.”

“Yes. I’ll see you all soon.”

Liliane slipped out, and Celestina followed. At the door, Celestina paused to wish him a good rest; Azriel seemed to appreciate it. Nol lingered a heartbeat longer, as if he wanted to speak, then thought better of it and went after them.

At last, Azriel was alone—healed, except for the fever. He sank back onto the bed and let out a long, exhausted breath. The room felt too large.

…He closed his eyes and waited for his sister to come.