Path of the Extra

On floor -2, Celestina, Henrik, and the others moved through the maze of corridors, their lanterns casting long shadows on the walls.

Just minutes ago, they had heard the same chilling announcement as Azriel on floor -1: all cells had been unlocked.

The cells on this floor were much larger and more heavily secured than the ones Azriel had encountered. They were massive domes, yet unlike the cells designed to mimic void creatures’ natural environments, these were plain—sterile, lifeless.

…Only, there was a problem.

The containment domes were empty. Completely empty, as if abandoned for weeks.

A tense silence hung over the group until Sophia whispered, her voice barely audible over their footsteps.

“Do you think Prince Azriel is fine? He isn’t… dead, is he?”

She kept flicking her eyes around, struggling to hide her fear and anxiety.

Celestina glanced at her briefly, her gaze softening before she spoke, her tone warm and reassuring.

“The highest-ranking void creatures above us are Demon-ranked. Azriel has spent two years in the void realm—he must have fought and survived every second of it. I’ve personally seen him come out of battle against opponents stronger than him… while they never came back. There’s no way he’d fall on a mere mission like this.”

Her words settled over them, forcing them into quiet contemplation. Even Sir Henrik seemed a little less tense as he spoke lightly.

“If anything, I’d be more worried about the void creatures trapped on that floor with him.”

“If his achievement of CASC is true, then he also has a mind sharper than most,” Nova added evenly.

Gavin and Sophia nodded in agreement.

Celestina narrowed her eyes slightly at Gavin. His face was paler than usual, his grip on the lantern tight. One hand clutched it close to his chest while the other remained hidden behind his back.

She suddenly stopped.

The others halted with her, watching as Celestina turned toward Gavin, who blinked in confusion.

“Your Highness?” he asked hesitantly.

Celestina took a slow step toward him. Instinctively, he took a step back.

Her voice rang out, soft but piercing.

“Sir Gavin, why have you been hiding your left hand this entire time?”

A heavy silence fell over the group.

Gavin froze. He could feel their eyes on him, scrutinizing, waiting.

“I… I don’t know what you’re—”

“Are you about to call me a liar?”

“No! Of course not!”

He shook his head hurriedly. But Celestina’s gaze didn’t waver.

From the corner of his eye, he caught Henrik’s sharp gaze. The knight’s fingers twitched near his weapon. Had he so much as implied Celestina was lying, Gavin was certain Henrik would have drawn his blade without hesitation!

Letting out a quiet sigh of resignation, Gavin bit his lip and slowly moved his hand forward.

The lantern light revealed his palm, slick with fresh blood.

The others tensed.

“Right before the chain of ice broke, I lost my grip,” Gavin admitted. “I cut my hand deeply, and that’s why I fell. I… I only noticed the wound after we moved. I didn’t want to cause trouble. I am extremely sorry, Your Highn— h-huh?!”

His breath hitched.

Just as he was about to bow, Celestina was suddenly right in front of him, grasping his bloodied hand without hesitation. She held his wrist firmly with her left hand while hovering her right hand over the wound. A soft white glow burst forth, beginning to mend the deep cut.

“What use would I have for you if you bleed out?”

“I…”

Gavin’s breath hitched. Her words were firm, almost scolding, yet there was something else in her gaze—something akin to worry.

A strange sense of embarrassment washed over him. The princess’s hands were soft, delicate—so much so that they felt out of place in this cold, dim corridor. She didn’t look like someone who had ever needed to use her hands for anything strenuous.

Nova, holding Celestina’s lantern along with her own, walked toward Sophia and Henrik, watching the scene unfold.

“I would’ve expected his head to fly off by now.”

Sophia nodded in agreement, making Henrik smile.

“Just as she said earlier—she is kind,” Henrik mused. “Though she restrains herself from showing that kindness too much… and forces herself to keep a distance from others, there is no one kinder to a stranger than Her Highness.”

Sophia glanced up at him, curious.

“But… she threatened you, didn’t she?” she whispered, anxiety lacing her voice.

Henrik let out a quiet chuckle.

“Exactly! She threatened me. But that was all she did. If it were someone else of her status, my hand—or my entire arm—might already be on the floor before the threats even started. Besides…” He exhaled. “She only threatened me because she must feel guilty for involving Prince Azriel in her wishes… wishes that put his life at risk.”

A look of realization crossed Sophia’s face. She opened her mouth to respond—

But a voice, cold and sharp as steel, froze the blood in her veins.

“What nonsense are you spouting now, Sir Henrik? Enough of that. Let’s move. Quickly.”

Celestina stood beside Gavin, his hand fully healed. He was wiping the last traces of blood off with a handkerchief she had given him.

Her gaze was unreadable as she looked at Sophia and Henrik.

Then, without another word, she took her lantern from Nova and strode forward.

Henrik quickly bowed as she brushed past him.

“My deepest apologies, Your Highness. It won’t happen again.”

Celestina merely hummed in acknowledgment, and the rest hurried to follow.

Henrik caught up quickly, masking the wry smile that had briefly touched his lips.

*****

It was obvious now—unnaturally obvious. The entire Black Zone was empty.

Every cell, every control room.

There was only one place left to check.

The central zone of Floor -2.

A massive open space where, according to the records, void creatures had been pitted against one another for research purposes.

Perhaps it was the long walk through lifeless corridors. Or maybe it was the eerie silence that had persisted for too long. But at some point, without realizing it, they had all let their guard down.

Henrik was the first to notice it—the faint tremor in the distance, growing louder with each second.

A low rumble, approaching fast.

His steps halted. Without a word, he raised his hand, signaling the others to stop.

“Something’s coming. Prepare for battle.”

His sharp tone sent a jolt through the group. Weapons were drawn in an instant.

Gavin gripped his sword. Sophia mirrored him. Nova held her glaive, the weapon nearly twice her height.

The sound grew clearer.

Then, Henrik’s eyes narrowed. The longer he listened, the more unease crept into him.

Something was wrong.

His fingers tightened around the hilt of his rapier, prepared to summon his [Soul Echo]—but some instinct, buried deep in the back of his mind, stopped him.

He focused, straining his ears against the growing cacophony.

A stampede.

The sound of hooves. Dozens—no, hundreds of them.

His body tensed. The darkness ahead was too thick, even for his eyes to pierce through.

Unnatural.

A void creature was responsible, without a doubt.

But—

His eyes widened in realization. He spun around, urgency flashing across his face.

“Follow me. Quickly!”

He didn’t wait. He bolted to the right, towards a door. Without hesitation, he kicked it open, revealing a small control room.

The others didn’t question him. They followed. One by one, they rushed inside.

Then—the floor trembled.

The walls, the ceiling, the very air—shaking violently.

Henrik barely had time to react before he turned to Sophia.

“Miss Sophia. A wall of earth—thick. Not even a speck of dust gets through. And don’t stop supplying it with mana. Now!”

“Y-yes!”

She dropped her lantern and sword, falling to her knees. Pressing her palms to the ground, she poured her mana into the earth.

The soil rose instantly, forming a thick barricade at the entrance.

For a brief second, silence.

Then—

A sickening crack.

Jagged, white bones pierced through the wall, sharp as spears.

Sophia flinched. She gasped, her focus wavering for just a heartbeat—

A single moment of hesitation.

It was enough.

A twisted, gnarled spike of bone burst through, slicing through the air—aimed straight for Celestina’s face.

Henrik moved.

Too slow.

Before he reached her, a radiant barrier of light flashed into existence.

The bone shattered on impact.

The shield crumbled a second later.

Celestina staggered back, a sharp breath escaping her lips.

“Ugh…”

“Your Highness!”

Henrik was at her side in an instant, scanning her with urgent eyes.

“Are you hurt!?”

Still dazed, Celestina quickly shook her head.

“I’m uninjured, Sir Henrik, but…”

Her gaze shifted behind him.

Henrik turned.

Sophia lay collapsed on the ground, panting heavily, sweat dripping down her pale face.

No one looked at her.

Their eyes were locked on something far worse.

The wall.

Every inch of it was now impaled with jagged, protruding bones.

“….”

“….”

“W-what in the gods was that!?”

Gavin’s body trembled as he stumbled back.

Nova’s face had shifted too—her usual composure cracking, fear settling in.

The wall had collapsed completely now, leaving nothing but a heap of jagged bones in front of them.

Celestina pursed her lips, tearing her gaze away from the grisly sight. Without hesitation, she moved toward Sophia, who was still panting heavily. Kneeling beside her, Celestina placed a hand on her shoulder, white light flickering to life as she channeled her magic to ease her fatigue.

“You did well, Miss Sophia. Thank you.”

Her voice was soft.

Sophia gave a strained but grateful smile.

“The four of you—stay here for a moment.”

Henrik stepped forward, kicking aside some of the bones before raising his rapier. Without another word, he walked out of the room.

Another tense silence followed.

No one moved.

No one breathed.

They watched Henrik step into the darkness, their fingers tightening around their weapons.

Seconds passed.

Then, Henrik exhaled. His grip on his weapon loosened slightly.

Nothing.

There was nothing outside. No signs of the creature. No lingering presence. Just an empty corridor, as if nothing had happened.

Only the faint echo of a stampede, growing more and more distant, until it vanished completely.

As if it had never been there at all.

Henrik frowned. He crouched, reaching down to pick up one of the bones from the heap.

Holding it close, he examined it in the dim light, his brows furrowing. Then, he glanced at Celestina, who was already watching him with a serious expression.

“Your Highness,” he began, “the barrier you formed… does it instantly break upon impact?”

Celestina approached.

“That depends on the void creature,” she said.

“It can withstand a few strikes from most. It should only shatter against an attack from something above monster rank.”

Henrik hummed in thought.

He set his lantern down and picked up another bone.

Then—without warning—he crushed both in his hands.

Dust trickled through his fingers.

Shaking the remnants off, he dusted his palms against his soul armor, picked up his lantern again, and turned to face them.

“These bones… they’re a mix of human and void creature remains.” His voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp. “Judging by their density and strength, I can only make an estimate—but every single one belonged to something with a mana core of rank 0 to 2.”

A cold, creeping realization settled over them.

Their eyes widened.

“…Let’s head to the central zone.”

“”!!””

Gavin, Sophia, and Nova all turned to Celestina.

She didn’t hesitate…

Henrik observed her for a moment, then let out a quiet chuckle, his lips curling into a faint smile.

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

*****

After that unexplainable attack of bones, they had reached the central zone without effort.

The moment they stepped inside, they realized where they were—standing within a massive dome, its walls stretching high into the darkness. Dozens of pathways converged here, their entrances yawning open like the gaping maws.

And it was here, in this vast, hollow chamber, that the illusion of peace was finally shattered.

Because in the very center… it was waiting.

As if it had been expecting them all along.

The thing responsible for the attack of bones. The thing that had massacred the higher-ranking members of this facility.

A thing that should not have existed.

That was the first thought that came to all of them as they laid eyes upon it.

A creature from the Hollow Eye—if such rumors were to be believed.

A storm. A vortex. A whirling mass of jagged bones, spinning with impossible speed, dry blood clinging to their edges like rust.

A Grade 3 Abyssal.