Path of the Extra

A few hours after the system shut down, Azriel could only hold back his tears, waiting until he was alone in his bed to cry.

Why?

Because everyone was allowed to return to the academy or go home.

Naturally, the four great clans were enraged by the situation and had each sent their own armies: the Dusk Army, the Nebula Army, the Frost Army, and the Crimson Army.

The guilds affiliated with them were also dispatched immediately.

Of course, Celestina would be escorted with the help of Grandmaster Thomas and the Frost Army, while the same would happen with Azriel and Jasmine.

For such an event to occur, the academy—specifically Freya—would face a lot of backlash, but she would manage.

Hell, she had barely managed when the death toll in the book was in the thousands, so now?

She should be fine.

Azriel stood inside his private tent with Jasmine, waiting for their escort to arrive.

"How's your hand?" Jasmine asked, her expression concerned as she looked at Azriel's bandaged hand.

Smiling, Azriel lifted his right hand, clenching and opening it in front of her.

"Perfectly fine now. See?"

Jasmine narrowed her eyes but hummed, seeing that he didn't seem to be in pain anymore.

Then, her gaze drifted to another spot.

Azriel was simply wearing a black t-shirt and pants, having changed out of his torn academy clothes after Freya left.

It wasn't exactly what he should be wearing in public, but he didn't have a choice—there was nothing else, and he wasn't interested in wearing any military gear.

'I still have the clothes Solomon gave me back in Europe though…'

It might come in handy someday.

Speaking of Solomon, he had visited Azriel earlier to check on his condition before heading toward the cadets staying at the hotel.

His presence wasn't really needed anymore, not with all the other people around to protect them.

Instead, it was better for him to ensure nothing happened to the cadets.

'At least he's happy with Zoran's mana core...'

Though it pained him, Azriel understood it was only natural for Solomon to claim Zoran's core.

He had killed him, after all.

Even though taking mana cores from humans was frowned upon, Azriel didn't have much of a choice with [Core Reaper], while Solomon… well, he simply didn't care.

The negative view on harvesting mana cores from humans was a rule the four great clans had intentionally made.

They'd spread rumors and laws about it to control certain things.

Most people didn't even know it was possible to absorb a human's mana core.

What choice did they have?

The four great clans had to maintain control, or chaos would break out.

Jasmine hesitated for a moment before speaking, pulling Azriel out of his thoughts.

"I've noticed you've been wearing that since we came back to the surface, but… why is your entire left arm bandaged? Is there an injury there too that the healers missed?"

She was staring at his left arm, which made sense—he was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt.

Azriel glanced down at his bandaged arm, the fresh wrappings he'd put on a few hours ago.

He looked back at Jasmine.

'It's exhausting trying to hide this all the time.'

He didn't particularly mind her seeing the mark of the Son of Death, but he preferred if she didn't.

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Maybe if he were the Apostle of Life or Dreams, it would be different, but...

The Apostle of Death, if known to all, would naturally be seen negatively through human eyes.

Azriel spoke softly.

"This? It's an injury, yes... but not one I got in the Void Dungeon. It's from the Void Realm. Even if I became an advanced, it wouldn't heal."

Jasmine's eyes widened as the air between them grew solemn.

She bit her lip, staring at his bandaged arm.

"Does it hurt…?"

Azriel chuckled and shook his head.

"No, not really. But I'd rather keep it hidden. It's not something most people would want to see."

Catching his meaning, Jasmine nodded and backed off from the subject.

'How understanding.'

He felt grateful to have such a sister.

'I should show her more appreciation…'

He nodded to himself, pleased by his own selfless thoughts—after all, that's who he was.

A selfless, honorable person.

Perhaps to lighten the mood, Jasmine smirked at him suddenly.

"You know, Mom's been nagging me for the past hour on the phone… She has a lot to say to you. I managed to keep her from calling, telling her you were fine, but once we're back home? I'm not so sure."

A cold wave of dread washed over Azriel's entire body, his face showing panic as he looked at Jasmine and processed her words.

'Oh shit…'

He had totally forgotten.

His mother.

She was definitely going to kill him.

'Wait, wait… Dad will understand, and he'll calm her d—'

Azriel's thoughts darkened as he remembered the… dynamic between his parents.

His dad might be the Crimson King, but his mother was the queen.

A queen who ruled her subjects—namely his dad.

'…How can someone so feared be so useless?'

Azriel looked at Jasmine with a pleading expression, but she averted her eyes, glancing at him pitifully from time to time.

Her intentions were clear: he was on his own for this one.

A dry laugh escaped his lips.

'First the system shuts down without even giving me a reward, and now I'm entering a new "main event" that's possibly more dangerous than what I just completed.'

Things didn't seem good.

At the very least, despite that useless system of his and the creepy panels that came with it, he had gained a lot from the event's experience.

Now?

He was extremely close to becoming a Grade 1 Intermediate.

Just like that.

Before he could dwell on his despair, the curtain of the tent opened, and a man with a typical buzz cut walked in, straightening his posture.

"I greet Prince Azriel and Princess Jasmine of the Crimson Clan," the man said, thumping his right fist against his chest as he bowed.

Jasmine nodded, her expression cold.

'Was she always this cold-looking…?'

Azriel thought, puzzled.

"You may look up," she said, her voice equally cold.

'And this cold-sounding?!'

Perhaps he had been so doted on by Jasmine that he had never noticed how she appeared to others.

Even the book never mentioned how she acted in front of other people since she had been cold from the very beginning after Azriel's death.

But now he was alive.

The man straightened his posture but didn't dare meet her eyes.

"There are two people claiming to be from the Crimson Clan waiting outside the tent, ready to escort both of you to EASC."

Azriel watched silently as Jasmine crossed her arms and nodded.

"Let them in."

The man hurriedly bowed again and left the tent.

Azriel glanced at Jasmine but decided it was best not to say anything.

Frankly… she was scary.

Another person walked in.

Azriel and Jasmine's eyes widened in shock and recognition at who it was.

She wore the dark crimson military uniform of the Crimson Army, a black furred coat draped over her shoulders.

Golden medals and badges of achievement were pinned on her chest.

Her scarlet hair flowed down her back like blood, and her golden eyes, like two suns, locked onto Azriel.

Her presence radiated authority and demanded respect.

Those golden eyes trembled as she thumped her right fist against her chest and went down on one knee.

"I greet my prince and my princess…"

Her voice quivered slightly.

Azriel knew exactly who she was.

Of course he did—he didn't even need his memories or the knowledge of the book.

'Mira Emberhart… commander of the Crimson Army and my father's right hand.'

"Lady Mira, you're back from the Void Realm?"

Jasmine spoke first, utterly stunned.

Mira smiled up at her before standing.

She nodded.

"I am. My king commanded me to return to EASC just a few days ago. He's still there for reasons I'm not aware of."

Her gaze shifted to Azriel, locking onto him.

"My prince… I heard of your return the moment I arrived."

A solemn look passed over her face as she lowered her head.

"If I had known you were in the Void Realm all this time… I would've searched every corner."

Azriel looked at her for a few moments, silence filling the tent, before he broke out in a soft smile.

"Lady Mira, I don't blame you or anyone else. What happened wasn't your fault. I'm just grateful to be alive and reunited with my family again."

Mira looked up, her eyes wide, before breaking into a small smile, though they still held a trace of sadness.

Azriel knew her well from his childhood.

She cared deeply about both him and Jasmine, and they felt the same toward her.

There were only three people Azriel had spent most of his childhood with—Jasmine, and Mira was one of them.

She had always been the one guarding over the Crimson Duo.

"You've grown splendidly, my prince… I'm truly grateful for your return."

Azriel nodded with a smile, but his brows furrowed as he remembered something.

"That soldier mentioned there were two of you. Who else is here?"

Unexpectedly, Mira's smile widened even more as she stepped aside, allowing the other person to enter.

When she did, both Azriel and Jasmine's eyes widened once more, though for different reasons.

Her long black hair flowed down her back, and her obsidian eyes trembled as they locked onto Azriel.

"Ah…"

A sound escaped Azriel's lips as he took in the sight of her.

Just hours ago, he had been afraid to meet her, yet here she was, standing right in front of him.

Jasmine didn't speak.

She didn't feel like she should, simply glancing between the two, confused.

The third person Azriel had spent his childhood with—his personal maid, someone he looked up to as another mother.

"…Amaya…"

The moment he uttered her name, instead of kneeling, she rushed toward him.