Path of the Extra

“Nol, what stall did you get this from? It’s quite delicious.”

Munching with a rare, happy smile on his face, Azriel walked side by side with Nol, a skewer of grilled meat in his hand. Nol, at his side, was eating one as well, while his other hand held onto the little girl, Lia, who was also happily chewing on her own skewer. The difference between the three of them, however, was obvious.

Lia had grease smeared all around her mouth.

Nol was not much better.

Azriel, on the other hand, ate as if it were impossible for him to make a mess of his food.

Before long, the three of them continued down the lively street while Azriel listened to Nol ramble on about how amazing the fireworks and food had been. It was the first time Nol had ever seen fireworks, and that childlike excitement in both his eyes and voice made it impossible not to notice.

“So then, Master, I have finally come to the conclusion that I prefer chicken nuggets over tenders! Who knew this world had both?”

“…”

“What about you, Master? I know you don’t like to admit that you’re a picky eater, but which of the two would you prefer?”

“…”

“Master?”

At the lack of response, Nol pouted and turned to his side, only to realize Azriel was no longer there.

Immediately, he stopped, causing Lia to stop as well and look up at him in confusion.

Nol turned toward where Azriel should have been—and froze.

Azriel was no longer beside him.

“Master?” he called out again, turning around.

He found Azriel standing several steps behind them, his back facing them. A small gust of wind passed through the street, tugging softly at their robes.

Frowning, Nol began walking toward him, leading Lia along. Then he followed Azriel’s gaze and quickly found the source.

He froze before he could even reach him.

Lia’s little head bumped into his leg with a small yelp, but Nol was too shaken to react.

Badump! Badump! Badump!

A knight stood a few meters ahead of Azriel.

A knight well over six feet tall, made to seem even larger by the armor he wore. Pale steel covered him from throat to heel in smooth, elegant plates, each one worked with feathered engravings that caught the light like silver fire. A radiant sun had been carved into the center of his chest, its flared rays spreading across the breastplate like a holy mark. His helmet was sharp and regal, hiding his face behind a narrow visor, while a sun-shaped crest rose from it like a frozen dawn. Broad shoulder guards gave him a massive, commanding silhouette, and the long split cloth hanging from his waist swayed with a quiet, noble weight.

He did not look like a man wearing armor.

He looked more like a god of war.

At his side, a sword with a white hilt stood buried in the ground.

The white armor alone was enough to draw attention, but perhaps it was more than that—perhaps it was the overwhelming presence surrounding him that pulled every gaze in the street toward him.

Soon, a ring of faces had formed around Azriel, Nol, Lia, and the white knight.

Badump.

Nol recognized the knight.

No—he recognized the armor.

Fear began to crawl through him at once.

“M-Master! He—”

He called out in panic, only to be cut off by Azriel’s calm, collected voice.

“I know,” he said.

Without turning around, Azriel addressed the knight standing stiff-backed before him.

“So you are a knight of the Sun’s Shadow. What is your name, sir?”

As expected of his master, Nol thought, Azriel showed no fear. Yet what unsettled him was not that.

It was the respect in Azriel’s tone.

The Sun’s Shadow.

It was an unfamiliar name to the gathered crowd, but they understood one thing well enough.

A knight.

“He’s a knight? Gods, what incredible armor! I thought knights only wore gold. Even the King’s Guard dress in gold!”

“The crest of our great sun… Are you sure he isn’t part of the King’s Guard? Or one of the royal knights?”

“…Whatever that armor is, it looks amazing…”

“Yeah, but it seems that pretty boy’s in trouble.”

“Damn. Who did he piss off?”

Ignoring the murmuring crowd, Azriel began to walk slowly toward the knight, every step measured and composed.

“Did I speak too quietly?” Azriel asked again.

“What is your name, sir?”

The moment Azriel stepped too close, the knight drew his sword.

A sharp hiss spread through the crowd before the entire street fell deathly silent.

The tip of the blade stopped exactly an inch from Azriel’s forehead.

Yet Azriel did not look surprised. He still wore that same calm expression, and when he spoke again, his voice carried clearly through the silence, stunning everyone present.

“Were you perhaps born without a name?”

The faint mockery in his tone was impossible to miss.

The knight did not react at first.

Then, a second later, a voice answered—soft, detached, and cold.

“Dame Selene. It is my honor.”

Only then did Azriel—and everyone else—realize it.

The knight in armor was no man at all.

It was a woman.

A female knight stood before Azriel.

“A female knight?” Azriel murmured, before giving her a polite smile.

“The honor is mine.”

Then he glanced around, as though suddenly aware of the growing tension surrounding them.

“But what brings you here, Dame Selene? I imagine quite the festivity is unfolding at the palace. Shouldn’t you be heading there to calm the situation?”

“The royal knights are already on their way,” she answered curtly.

Naturally, Azriel was already aware that Liliane and her men had been sent to the palace as a decoy. But he had also suspected Lioren harbored other intentions—perhaps something as reckless as killing the Saintess while using the chaos and others as similar distractions.

Though Azriel doubted things would unfold the way Lioren wanted.

The system attached to Lumine had been strangely silent these past few months, allowing him to waste away beside the sleeping Yelena. And yet Azriel had no doubt that the moment Lumine grew truly desperate for strength, it would strike again.

That was why Azriel remained unbothered.

That was also why none of the men belonging to his clan were here—just as none of Celestina’s were. They were likely under orders from the two princesses, both of them trying to uncover what exactly Lioren was plotting.

But for now, none of that mattered to Azriel.

“Then what brings you to me?” Azriel asked, looking back at the dame.

“To be more precise, what I mean to ask is this—what brings you to the capital, and then to me? Aren’t you supposed to be among the King’s Guards, protecting your king alongside the other knights of the Sun’s Shadow?”

What Azriel did not doubt in Lioren’s words was that all of the King’s Guards were with the king, who was currently at the summit Azriel himself would attend in a few hours, reaching it quickly with Lioren’s skill.

Naturally, Azriel would have expected these elite secret knights to be at the king’s side, or at least in the other kingdoms, stirring chaos or carrying out something similar, rather than remaining in the very kingdom their king was meant to protect.

’Did Lioren’s plan get leaked? Or perhaps the king grew suspicious and, just to be safe, sent these knights to guard the kingdom in case something happened?’

But Azriel doubted that.

The knight before him was not here merely in case. There was something in her dark eyes. A certain resolve.

“Not you.”

She suddenly spoke and pointed her sword past him.

“Him. Her.”

Azriel turned his head slightly and looked at the two behind him. Both Nol and Lia had gone pale, their faces frozen with shock.

’Well, that is surprising.’

For once, Azriel was not the reason.

’I feel strangely disappointed…’

Letting out an inward sigh and trying to lift his mood, Azriel looked back at the dame.

“Ah, I see.” Scratching the back of his head with a disappointed expression, Azriel spoke in a saddened tone. “But these two belong to me, Dame Selene. I’m sorry, but they will be going nowhere unless I say so.”

“I understand.”

To Azriel’s surprise—and everyone else’s—the knight relented rather easily.

“Great,” Azriel said, clearly pleased with both himself and her.

Then Dame Selene suddenly took a few steps back and raised her sword toward him, shifting into a stance Azriel could only interpret as one meant to drive the blade straight through him.

Azriel blinked a few times as she spoke again, her voice even lower and sharper than before.

“Then I will take you down first, and take them after.”

The dame clearly seemed to favor speaking in single sentences. Perhaps she simply did not like talking much.

This time, Azriel let out an audible sigh.

“And here I was feeling hopeful I could finish the night peacefully.”

Of course, Azriel had known the risks of being outside during the festival. There had always been a chance they would end up in a fight.

Still, someone as exceptional as Azriel could only hope.

Taking a few steps backward, he prepared himself as well, ready to engage the knight. The crowd, torn between excitement and fear, hurriedly stepped back too, widening the space between them, while Nol and Lia retreated with the rest.

’Why is it that I always end up fighting people ranked above me? Is it because no one can measure up to me at my own level? Yeah, probably… Still, I suppose I can finally kill a master now. Wait, kill? Do I need to kill her? Maybe I can simply take her down and leave her alive.’

While Azriel entertained those thoughts, Dame Selene tilted her head slightly and looked past him, addressing Nol and Lia loudly enough for both of them to hear.

“After I am done beating him, please surrender quietly, and I promise the silver-haired girl and the black-haired girl will stay alive.”

The instant she shifted her face slightly to the left, a spear of ice wrapped in pale white lightning shot past her helmet, grazing it by a hair.

She froze.

So did everyone else.

Then all eyes turned toward Azriel.

And in that moment, every person in the crowd felt their heart skip and their breath catch in their throat as white lightning suddenly burst across his body.

Dame Selene released her aura at once.

Its overwhelming pressure multiplied hundreds of times over.

“Ugh—!”

Immediately, those around them groaned and collapsed to the ground, unable to withstand it.

All except Azriel.

And to the crowd’s even greater horror—to those who could still lift their heads high enough to notice—

Azriel had released his own aura as well.

He stared at Dame Selene with a face colder than rage, so cold it felt almost inhuman.

Then he spoke, low and ominous.

“You are going to die.”