Path of the Extra

"Are we... alive?"

Sophia's hoarse whisper barely carried over the settling dust as she lay motionless atop the rubble, exhaustion weighing down every part of her body.

Nova let out a quiet hum in response, her eyes fluttering closed.

And just like that, the two of them—like Gavin before them—slipped into unconsciousness, drained of everything.

"If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have won."

Celestina's voice was quiet yet firm as she looked down at Henrik, both hands pressed against his chest. A soft, white glow seeped from her fingertips, mending the torn flesh beneath them.

Henrik lay on the cold, shattered ground, his body battered, blood pooling beneath him. His injuries were severe, but he would live.

His breath hitched, a weak chuckle escaping his lips.

"...It is my honor to receive... such praise, Your Highness."

If it hadn't been for Henrik, they would have never won.

Even with the Grade 3 Abyssal severely injured, the battle had nearly ended in disaster.

They had cornered it—finally driven it to its limit—when, in one last, desperate act, the Abyssal burned through the last of its mana.

And in doing so—

It controlled every bone buried beneath the ruins.

Shattered fragments. Tiny shards.

Individually, they were harmless.

But together?

A storm of death.

And it had aimed them all at Celestina.

Had Henrik not thrown himself in front of her once more—

Had he not shielded her with his own body—

She wouldn't have just been injured.

She would have been dead.

But in that fleeting moment—that tiny window of opportunity—

Celestina had acted.

Her blade flashed.

And the head of the Grade 3 Abyssal fell.

And now…

Lying in the dust beside her—

Was a shimmering, white mana core.

Celestina let out a long sigh before finally pulling her hands away from Henrik. His condition had stabilized, and with nothing more she could do for him, she turned her attention to the mana core in her grasp.

She needed to consume it quickly. High-quality mana cores like this were best absorbed as soon as possible.

"Ngh..."

Suppressing a groan, she clenched her jaw as the raw mana of the Grade 3 Abyssal surged into her body. It was overwhelming—almost too much. No, perhaps it truly was too much. A thin stream of blood trickled from her nose, but she forced herself to endure.

When she was finally done, she let the now dull and lifeless mana core fall from her fingertips. As she stood, a wave of euphoria surged through her veins. She felt as if she could move forever, as if her body had no limits. Wiping the blood from beneath her nose, she exhaled deeply.

Yet, beneath that fleeting strength, exhaustion weighed on her. Her head felt light, her mind open—vulnerable. A headache loomed at the edges of her consciousness.

"Azriel..."

She had to get to him. He was probably still unconscious, and there could be more void creatures lurking. She didn't want to leave him alone in the first place. But time had been against her. She had chosen to go all out, using everything and everyone she had to take down the Grade 3 Abyssal while his mana core levelled up.

His mana core...

Meaning he had ascended.

'An Advanced...'

Celestina lowered her gaze. He was only sixteen and had already reached such a level. His growth was terrifying. Just when she thought she was catching up, he kept pulling further and further ahead.

"Ugh...!"

Her legs gave out. She crumpled to her knees, her mana suddenly entirely depleted. Gritting her teeth, she tried to push herself up, but her body refused to listen.

In the end, all she could do was sigh.

Her gaze naturally drifted toward where Azriel must be.

'He fought another demon... and still won. And became even stronger.'

Her fist clenched.

It had always been like this. With Jasmine. And now, even with her own little brother.

Azriel must have had it figured out—the real reason she wanted to be close to him. The reason she invited him into her faction.

...It was to observe him. To find out what she lacked.

She had watched him, studied him, gotten closer than anyone else... and yet—

Nothing.

She had found absolutely nothing that could explain it.

Instead, even after everything—even when she was using him, even when joining her faction could have caused conflicts between their two great clans—he had never once called her out on it. He had indulged her every selfish request without question.

And that only made her guilt heavier.

The only time he had ever acted out of line was when—

'...Huh?'

"...."

'He knew.'

He had known there was a high chance of something going wrong on this mission.

If the Black Antlered King had been free and reached their floor, they would have all been slaughtered. But by sheer "luck," Azriel had been separated from them. By sheer "luck," he had managed to take down the Black Antlered King. By sheer "luck," he had single-handedly wiped out the entire floor and saved all their lives—by falling onto the Grade 3 Abyssal at just the right moment.

So much luck.

But... was it really just luck?

No. It had to be. Celestina shook her head.

Even for him, this was pure coincidence. He couldn't have predicted all of this. No one could. Only a god could control events to this degree.

But.

But it was Azriel.

A sixteen-year-old who had survived the void realm for two whole years. Who was in the middle and had walked out of the void dungeon incident alive. Who could already wield aura.

He had done things no one his age should be capable of.

Something in the back of her mind whispered to her. A quiet, insistent voice she had ignored until now.

Telling her to be cautious.

Telling her to suspect him.

With everything that had happened in her life—with all the betrayals, all the schemes—how could she not look at this from every possible angle?

The only explanation was—

'If he could see the future.'

'...Is that his [Unique Skill]?'

To see the future?

No. It had to be more than that. It couldn't be so simple.

But... now that she thought about it, he really was unusually cooperative. She hadn't known Azriel for long, but in the time she had, this time he seemed almost too kind. Because of her obsession with observing him, she had overlooked something so simple.

So...

"Ugh... Why am I even thinking like this..."

Celestina felt like she was going insane.

She had always been the type to question things, to analyze everything. But right now... this felt different.

'I need to get to him. See if he's alright.'

Celestina braced herself, trying to push up from the ground—

But at that exact moment, she heard footsteps.

Her body tensed. Her sword materialized in her grasp.

Looking in the direction from which the footsteps came, Celestina squinted her eyes, gripping the handle of her silver sword tightly.

'I can't move my legs because of consuming such a high-ranking void creature... It's going to take me at least some time to move again, and my mana is fully depleted, so using light magic to heal myself won't be possible either.'

It was useless. Whatever was about to attack her had every advantage.

...Then her eyes widened as she saw the source of the footsteps.

"Azriel..?"

She had to blink a few times, her eyes widening more with each passing second.

Illuminated by the scattered glow of dozens of white mana stones, Azriel walked toward her calmly.

It was him... and yet he looked different from before.

He still wore his smooth, black-plated soul armor, now in perfect condition.

But her grey eyes were drawn to his face. His skin was pale, milky-white, polished like ivory—flawless, without a single scar or bruise. His eyes were as red as pure blood, gleaming like the finest rubies. His hair, dark as the space between the stars, had grown longer, now reaching his neck.

His frame seemed thinner, almost delicate. Looking at him, Celestina couldn't imagine that he had just come out of a fight—or that he had ever fought in his life. He looked fragile, like a sculpture of ice, a painting that would tear at the slightest touch.

He looked...

"...Beautiful."