Path of the Extra

Everything, without exception, must eventually come to an end.

Azriel wasn’t entirely sure these laws applied fully to him or Xian Feng. Perhaps they had, once. Or perhaps the universe had simply given up.

If not the universe itself, then fate was damn sure trying its best to get rid of Azriel—no matter where he was.

But now, in this strange, scenario of a fallen world, Azriel had encountered not just one, but two self-proclaimed immortals.

And, frankly, he felt an irresistible urge to kill them both.

Thus, as Pollux uttered those boastful words, Azriel’s single eye turned cold, his face settling into a mask of chilling indifference. Slowly, he rose to his feet.

“The word ‘immortal’ gets thrown around far too casually…” Azriel remarked flatly.

“But in the end, it doesn’t really matter.”

He glanced briefly at Sealbreaker, a cruel smile spreading across his lips.

“Even if not by the laws of this world, nature, or mana, the universal laws themselves cannot accept true immortality. The proof is the very thing you’re holding in your hand—a weapon created precisely to destroy immortality.”

How cruelly ironic, wasn’t it? One of Azriel’s most critical goals was to find a way to free himself from [Redo]. And now, here it was, right in front of him—the very solution he’d longed for.

Yet he simply couldn’t let go of [Redo].

There were countless reasons why—some logical, some irrational—but at the heart of it all, if Azriel had to name one core reason that outweighed all others, it was a brutally simple one:

Azriel was utterly, hopelessly terrified.

He smiled bitterly, mocking himself inwardly.

‘What a pathetic Son of Death I am.’

Disgusting. Utterly repulsive. That was the feeling boiling inside him, clawing at his heart, staining his very soul.

Pollux scoffed dismissively.

“Even so, I’m the one holding—”

“Enough.”

Azriel abruptly cut him off, voice sharp and cold.

“I’ve stalled for long enough. Far past the time limit of this loop, in fact.”

Pollux’s brow furrowed, eyes widening slightly in realization. At that moment, Azriel calmly reached into his pocket and drew out a Desert Eagle.

A hollow, humorless smile formed on his face as he leveled Atropos’ Elegy directly at Pollux.

Pollux narrowed his eyes, then flashed a mocking smile.

“Oh, well now! And here I had so much more wisdom to impart to you, Son of Death. What a pity. It’s been so long since I’ve had a chance to speak to someone inferior—it makes me nostalgic.”

His smile sharpened into a sneer as his voice dripped with disdainful amusement.

“But surely you don’t believe a mere Desert Eagle can harm me, do you? Even though you’ve charged some mana into it, you’re still far from having enough power to even scratch a Divine Spirit—let alone me, the strongest of all spirits, who, might I remind you, has just revealed himself to be an immortal. Without Sealbreaker—which I hold—you cannot hope to escape this situation, no matter how convincingly you pretend or what toy you’ve borrowed from… Well, I suppose I shouldn’t provoke this world’s providence any further.”

Despite Pollux’s mocking words, all perfectly rational, Azriel’s smile didn’t waver. Instead, wordlessly, he moved the gun.

Slowly, deliberately, Azriel aimed the barrel directly at his own chest.

Pollux’s smile stiffened, confusion flickering across his face.

“What are you doing? Have you finally lost your mind? Well, more than you already have?”

Azriel pressed the muzzle precisely against the spot beside his heart, where his mana core lay.

“You said there’s a barrier around my mana core, didn’t you? A wall preventing mana from entering or exiting. I hadn’t had much time to charge [Atropos’ Elegy] until you decided to reveal yourself, but hopefully, it’s enough to pierce my body and shatter that barrier.”

Pollux stared at him silently, then burst into laughter.

“Ah, yes! This truly is the definition of insanity! Are you really betting everything on that pitiful amount of mana stored in your gun? You’re gambling that it will pierce your own hardened body and then the barrier around your core? Of course, being the Son of Death, the potency of your mana might help, but still… Even if you succeed, you’ll severely injure yourself—perhaps even damage or destroy your mana core entirely. This is quite the desperate gamble, human!”

Azriel merely shrugged.

“Maybe. Or maybe not. But in the end, this is just a dream, isn’t it? Your reasoning might hold true if this were reality, remember? Or have you been trapped within your own spell for so long that you can no longer differentiate between dream and reality?”

Pollux’s face twisted darkly.

Azriel placed his finger firmly on the trigger, preparing to pull.

Pollux stared him down, cold, arrogant, superior—but he made no move to stop Azriel.

Just as Azriel was about to squeeze the trigger—

“—!!”

Both Azriel and Pollux froze.

A sudden wave of euphoria exploded through Azriel’s body like an electric current, surging through every fiber of his being. It rushed toward his mana core, collided violently against the invisible barrier surrounding it, battered it relentlessly—

—and then, with a sharp, resonant crack, the barrier shattered.

The euphoria intensified abruptly, forcing Azriel’s entire body to stiffen as he desperately suppressed a groan.

‘W-what the hell!?’

As quickly as it came, the sensation vanished, leaving Azriel breathing heavily, confusion etched deeply into his features.

‘That… That was [Core Reaper]!’

What had just happened? Azriel hadn’t killed anyone—he’d been standing right here, talking with Pollux this entire time!

Who dared to die and pin the blame on him!?

“Once again, it seems fortune favors you, Son of Death,” Pollux remarked darkly, his crimson eyes filled with cold annoyance as he pointed Sealbreaker directly at Azriel.

It took Azriel several moments to fully register that his mana core was once again unshackled, the barrier shattered without him even pulling the trigger of Atropos’ Elegy. Someone had genuinely died—someone whose death was attributed to him, activating [Core Reaper].

Azriel wasn’t sure whether to feel mortified or relieved. At the very least, it seemed as though fate itself had taken pity on him, deciding to intervene.

Perhaps, he thought bitterly, it was fate’s way of guiding Azriel and Pollux to face each other.

…Or perhaps, fate simply required a greater anomaly to destroy a lesser one.

Pollux’s arrogant voice cut through his thoughts once more.

“No matter. You’re still far beneath me, incapable of ever defeating me. Even the gods themselves wouldn’t dare face me alone. What could a mere child of a god possibly accomplish?”

Words, words, words. Pollux spoke endlessly—but Azriel had finally caught on.

Despite calling himself the strongest divine spirit…

Despite boasting himself the Great Divine Star Spirit Emperor…

Despite declaring himself the Last Crown of the Starbloods…

Pollux had never intended to fight Azriel directly.

Instead, it seemed he had been desperately trying to break Azriel’s spirit with words alone. And as Azriel carefully channeled mana into his single remaining eye, he finally understood why.

‘There… is no mana core?’

Azriel’s eye widened sharply in sudden realization.

‘Of course.’

This wasn’t Pollux’s real body. The form standing before him wasn’t even truly there—just an illusion, a trick. Azriel should have noticed this sooner; in fact, he certainly would have, if not for one thing.

The Grade 2 Void artifact, Sealbreaker…

…was undeniably real.

How was it possible for something that wasn’t real to hold something that undeniably was?

Pollux seemed to read his mind and answered with cold amusement, “The moment you abandon the laws that bind everything, you’ll understand. Until then, your feeble mind won’t comprehend anything.”

Azriel stared at him coldly, releasing a soft, weary sigh.

How ironic, how bitterly amusing it was—two supposed immortals facing each other, both aware of a weapon capable of shattering their immortality.

Truly laughable.

And then—

Azriel moved.

Smooth, polished black armor wrapped around his body in an instant. In his left hand was Atropos’ Elegy; in his right, Void Eater.

The world blurred before his single eye, and suddenly he stood directly before Pollux, still wearing Jasmine’s face, an arrogant smirk stretched across familiar lips.

Azriel didn’t hesitate. Void Eater flashed through the air, and simultaneously, Atropos’ Elegy erupted with a deafening roar of lightning.

Then, like a horn of apocalypse sounding, a thunderous noise reverberated painfully in his ears.

In the very next moment, when Azriel’s vision cleared, he was sprawled at the far end of the room, lying amidst shattered wood and splinters, a trail of destruction marking his path across the ruined chamber.

‘Huh?’

‘What just happened?’

He never landed his attack; he hadn’t even felt the impact. It was as if his mind had refused to comprehend the moment itself, skipping the event entirely and thrusting him directly to the aftermath.

Pollux clicked his tongue lightly, the sound eerily familiar as it emerged from Jasmine’s voice.

“I’ve seen your memories, yet I fail to understand you,” Pollux murmured softly. “What makes you so special? Talent? Motivation? Discipline? Hard work? Mentality? Experience? Suffering? Joy? I cannot grasp it, you’ve surrounded yourself with individuals who surpass you in every single aspect. Despite [Redo], you’ve done nothing but fail again and again. Why would she choose someone so absolutely pathetic and worthless?”

“…!”

“Are you even human? You wear the flesh and bones of one. You were seemingly born as one, even your soul appears human… yet, your existence itself baffles even the likes of me.”

Azriel gritted his teeth and slowly pushed himself upright, his expression flickering through anger, despair, confusion, until finally settling on resigned emptiness.

Pollux stared at Azriel—not with malice, but rather with a profound and genuine curiosity, softly posing a question:

“Tell me, Son of Death. What does it mean to be human..?”

Azriel stood silently, then lowering his gaze, he murmured quietly, solemnly, as though answering both Pollux and himself.

“How would I know? I am, after all, unknown.”