Path of the Extra

There was a silence left in the wake of the strange man’s words, where Azriel and Xian Feng kept their lips shut, dozens of thoughts racing through their minds.

Only after a moment did Azriel pick up on one of the words the man had spoken in that strange, archaic manner of his.

‘Child wrought of mine own flesh… wait, does that mean…?’

Azriel’s eyes widened once again, his heart pounding wildly.

He wasn’t sure how much more his poor heart could take today.

“God of Time…”

Xian Feng muttered beside Azriel. His voice was low, but Azriel couldn’t decipher the emotion behind it—his face was as blank and composed as a masterfully painted portrait.

‘First the God of Death, and now the God of Time…’

Only this time, he could see the god. If that was truly how the God of Time appeared.

Which Azriel doubted.

If he were truly gazing upon the God of Time in his full glory, his mind would have shattered already.

So this might be a mere replica of his body… or something else entirely.

The God of Time’s withered lips curved up ever so slightly, though neither Azriel nor Xian Feng caught the movement. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, his grey, thinly cracked hand gestured toward the seats before him.

“Come forth, my children. Be seated—for much yet lingers unsaid.”

Azriel and Xian Feng exchanged a glance before slowly making their way toward the seats.

Azriel took the seat to the left of the God of Time, while Xian Feng sat on the right, mirroring him.

Another silence settled upon them, stretching far too long for Azriel’s comfort. It was awkward, uncomfortable—as if none of the three quite knew where to begin.

Begin what?

‘Ah, right. I should ask him why we’re here.’

That would be a good way to start a conversation… with a god.

He wouldn’t smite Azriel for speaking, right?

But thankfully, Azriel never got the opportunity to start the conversation, as it was Xian Feng who spoke first. Leisurely leaning back in his seat, his gaze rested upon the God of Time.

Yet those eyes of Xian Feng’s…

Azriel felt like they were swallowing everything they beheld. They contained something that made Azriel’s very heart shudder.

Gluttony? Persistence? Determination?

“This has never happened before, has it? I can tell this shouldn’t be happening.”

The God of Time’s expression did not change.

“Ah… thy soul remembers well. It would seem mine blessing was not so feeble after all—far beyond the paltry grace of that wretched harlot.”

As he spoke, the God of Time’s gaze flickered toward Azriel.

A chill ran down his spine. His body stiffened, his blood turning ice-cold, his stomach twisting with unease.

‘H-huh… wait, wretched harlot? Does he mean…’

The God of Death?

…No, the Goddess of Death would be more accurate now, right?

‘Should I say something? She’s the one who blessed me, but…’

“Then let us dispense with veils of pretense. Know ye why I have drawn thee to this forsaken realm—this husk of an age long perished—”

“Is it possible for you, to speak in normal human language?”

Azriel’s mouth opened slightly in disbelief as Xian Feng suddenly looked at the God of Time with disdain and utter annoyance.

The God of Time froze, staring at him in silence.

Azriel’s mind began to race with frantic thoughts.

More and more worries swirled in his head, each more terrifying than the last.

But they were unfounded.

The God of Time merely exhaled slowly before speaking once again.

“It seems my speech is a bit too difficult for mere humans to under—”

“Not difficult. Just annoying.”

‘This shameless man!’

Azriel really felt like ripping out Xian Feng’s tongue—but the fact remained that he would fail and get his own tongue ripped out in return.

Luckily, the God of Time was not as wrathful as Azriel had feared.

“Right, then. I shall speak in a way that is more comfortable for the two of you.”

“That’s better.”

“Good. So, as for why I summoned you both to this forsaken, perished realm… it is to give you a warning. It took great effort to bring you here unnoticed—nearly being caught by my brethren with each attempt. Your World Providence was much stronger than I realized. Apologies if it disturbed you too much.”

‘So the ringing in my head… it was because of him trying to bring us here without getting caught.’

So this was something that could have gotten all of them killed?

…The God of Time was breaking one of the rules. Again.

Xian Feng calmly studied the God of Time, propping his chin on his hand.

“So? What is the warning you wish to heed us of, oh great God of Time?”

The God of Time leaned back and answered in a low, cold voice that felt like a thunderclap splitting the air.

“A warning that the two of you should stop being so disappointing once and for all. Because if either of you dies again, resulting in another timeline being erased, I will no longer be able to conceal it from the others—as I have for all the previous timelines.”

“”!!””

The sudden words hit Xian Feng and Azriel like a slap to the face, leaving them staring at the God of Time, dumbstruck.

“The gazes of the others has began to shift toward me, and that Harold—worse still, she has gone missing after blessing you, child. All this time, we have been covering for the two of you in hope, and all we have received in return is endless disappointment. My son, you, whose soul has withered like a tree, becoming as dry as a desert because of countless failures—and you.”

The God of Time’s cold, chilling eyes locked with Azriel, who sat frozen.

“Whose soul has been shattered into a thousand pieces, causing you to turn the shards upon your own neck and the world. Truly pathetic, the two of you. How much longer will you make me wait? Husks of mortals that you have become! Have you learned nothing after endless deaths and failures? Is this truly the height you could ever grasp?”

The God of Time’s voice struck their ears, and for a moment, it felt as though their eardrums might rupture.

Azriel felt as though a knife twisted in his chest over and over. His gaze dropped, and both his hands gripped the edges of the old table.

Before… he began to grip it tightly, cracks beginning to form around the table.

Azriel’s gaze darkened as he gritted his teeth.

Then, suddenly, a booming laugh echoed from the opposite side of the table.

Azriel’s head snapped up, his eyes wide as he looked at Xian Feng, who was laughing without restraint. His head leaned back, his right hand covering his forehead, and his left clutched his stomach.

Xian Feng stopped laughing, standing up and flashing a vicious smile. His teeth gleamed white, and Azriel could now clearly see the maddening hunger in his eyes—a hunger to devour, unrestrained, directed squarely at the God of Time.

Then, he clenched his right hand and smashed it against the table, which shattered in seconds. Azriel jumped to his feet.

But the God of Time remained unmoved, simply staring at Xian Feng.

“You dare lecture us? Ha! You, who never once offered guidance or clues, only showing up now—at the last possible moment—because you finally realized your own stupidity, because time is slipping through your fingers! And yet, you call me pathetic?

I’ve been trapped in this endless loop of hell because of you! But even then, I never wavered! I fought against the very heights you stand upon! Four years ago, I tracked down an infant of your kind who broke the rules—and I fought it to the death. That battle shattered my mana core, forcing me to learn how to rebuild it from nothing! And still, I never stopped!

I slaughtered countless humans, experimented on dozens—infusing them with the divine blood of your kind—recruited hundreds of talents, and built an organization that strikes fear into the Four Great Clans. Yet you never once mentioned that Fate itself is trying to kill me and Azriel!”

Xian Feng walked slowly, his face growing colder and colder until it felt like a mask was being worn, revealing only the cold, chilling hatred in his eyes.

“It’s hard to mention such a thing when we’ve never spoken, isn’t it, Father? Azriel, forced to summon the Goddess of Death, becoming the son of death far earlier than intended… and you, finally compelled to call upon us. Never telling us anything, yet expecting everything… If we are disappointments, then what are you?”

As Xian Feng loomed above the God of Time like something unfathomable, the God of Time’s face never cracked. Instead, he simply turned to look at Azriel.

“Do you feel the same way, child?”

Azriel met his gaze with a dark glare.

“…Yes.”

“…”

“I was thrown into this world against my will, cursed by the Goddess of Death’s so-called blessing—trapped in an endless cycle of death. I killed my own family… my sister… someone I once saw as a brother in another timeline. And who knows what else I’ve done?

I went mad. I forced myself into madness—anything to defy you gods.

And now you tell me that if we erase this timeline one more time, everything will have been for nothing? That all of it—the suffering, the blood, the sacrifices—was meaningless?

You… you really expect us to accept that calmly?”

Hearing Azriel’s words, the God of Time merely let out a contemplative hum, his expression calm.

“Yes… now that I think about it, you are a human not of this world or its realms. An unexpected anomaly. And yet, somehow, you managed to catch her attention—of all beings.” He paused, studying him intently.

“It seems you already possess knowledge of many things… remnants of your previous world, perhaps? That alone piques my curiosity. Alas… what a pity.” He let out a soft breath, almost mournful.

“Your world and its people perished long ago—casualties of a war they were never meant to survive.”

“…!”

Azriel stood frozen, staring at him in silence.

The words settled in, sinking deep into his bones.

His lips parted, but his voice barely made it past them, thin and trembling. A whisper, cracked and dying before it could fully escape.

“…What?”