Path of the Extra Chapter 393: Azriel, the prince of the Crimson Clan

Azriel's question held no sarcasm or mockery whatsoever. Nor was it tinged with anger or sorrow. Jasmine sensed his complete sincerity. He genuinely sought to know if it could be real, even as a large part of him refused to believe it possible.

"Yes."

Jasmine's reply stayed unchanged. It always would.

"Yes, I do."

Her eyes betrayed zero hesitation or falsehood.

"I see..."

Azriel exhaled slowly and turned his gaze away from her.

The other three were delaying their return far longer than Jasmine anticipated. No doubt, the festival had snared their attention once more. As long as the child stayed safe under their watch, she had no issue with it. Far more critical concerns occupied her now—ones tied to her younger brother.

Studying Azriel's profile, Jasmine felt a storm of awe, terror, grief, astonishment, and uncertainty crashing over her all together.

Assuming Azriel spoke the truth, then since Leo's family perished, he had twisted his own thoughts instead of confronting reality directly. He fabricated false memories and deceived himself to escape the painful facts as a survival tactic. It sounded absolutely preposterous, yet Jasmine couldn't help but accept it as real.

The whole situation baffled her deeply. She couldn't grasp it fully or describe it accurately, but one certainty burned bright: the figure before her was her little brother in body and spirit alike. Still, Azriel insisted he was Leo Karumi, the soul who had invaded Azriel Crimson's form.

Maybe, if his reasoning proved spot-on and Leo Karumi never claimed Azriel Crimson's body, that self-deception could have endured far longer.

Yet no matter what, the instant Azriel Crimson recalled his days as Leo Karumi—or Leo Karumi seized control of Azriel Crimson's body—they fused into one individual. One being burdened with dual memory banks.

That fusion began splintering the falsehood in his head.

Little by little.

Day by day.

Every spark of happiness and stab of agony whittled away at the lie.

Azriel could no longer pinpoint his own identity with clarity.

Such torment had to be unbearable.

No... far more than two clashed within.

Subject 666 lurked there as well, qualifying as one entity. Leo Karumi prior to merging with Azriel Crimson counted separately. Azriel Crimson before absorbing Leo Karumi’s memories stood as another. And the Azriel Crimson facing Jasmine now, laden with every memory combined, formed yet a fourth.

To Jasmine, at least four warring souls ripped at his psyche.

Strangely enough, both Leo Karumi and Azriel Crimson, in their tender early years, fumbled with simple human reasoning and feelings. Each had appeared somewhat behind other kids.

Gathering her wits, Jasmine conjured a smile masked from view. She infused her voice with maximum brightness, aiming to counter Azriel’s plummeting spirits after unloading his shadowy past.

"This is admittedly a lot... but it is also a good thing, right?"

Azriel stared at her in total disbelief, convinced he'd heard wrong.

Had Jasmine gone insane?

What part of his confessions could possibly be positive?

As though peering into his mind, her smile broadened just a touch.

"Now that we know the issues, we can finally start fixing them."

"You mean fixing me?" Azriel retorted sharply, eyes narrowing at Jasmine. Her veiled smile faltered.

"N-no... I... I mean, yes, but—"

"There is no fixing anything," Azriel interrupted her icily.

Abruptly, Azriel tsked in frustration, irritation plain. He glanced aside before continuing, his words dripping venom.

"I have killed innocents. I have let innocents die. I have threatened to kill many more. I conspired with the worst of the worst. I might as well already be called a villain. It is stupid to think otherwise. I possess knowledge that could make our world either better or worse, yet I chose to do neither. And if any of my actions have had an impact, then it has only been for the worse. What have I really done besides chase my own selfish gains? From the moment I returned from Europe until now, have I cultivated my mana core like any of you? Have I bothered to train and refine my swordsmanship? Improved my affinities by learning new spells? Expanded my knowledge? Acquired more soul armor and soul weapons? I have had plenty of opportunities to become stronger, yet I chose not to. Like some undisciplined piece of shit."

"That..."

Jasmine squeezed her eyes shut and held her tongue, dreading that speech might unleash tears or shatter her voice.

She yearned to reject his claims, but the venomous hatred woven through them made it clear: nothing she uttered would pierce through today.

"I have all this talent, and still I have done nothing," Azriel murmured wearily.

That reality stirred pride and dread in Jasmine equally.

Proud, since it validated her enduring conviction. Every fool who dubbed him worthless, a blight on the mighty clans, and totally inept had erred badly.

Monstrously wrong.

Jasmine's sharp memory preserved the talent evaluation day in vivid detail.

That day, her orb blazed so fiercely they hailed her as the Crimson Clan's radiant star. Her potential neared the infinite.

But for Azriel, disaster struck.

On his turn, the mana orb failed to flicker faintly.

It refused to shine at all.

Rather, it burst apart the second his mana flowed in, shards flying wildly. A treasure even masters couldn't easily shatter—gone in a flash.

Initially, they suspected a defect. Improbable as it seemed, perhaps Jasmine's mana had tainted it. So a pristine new orb appeared.

That met the same explosive end.

It never glimpsed light, staying dark until pulverized.

Just like its successor.

And the one beyond.

Clarity emerged late, branded with a label. Azriel bore a freakish affliction—the first in humans—where excess mana wrecked any vessel it flooded. Human mana typically meshed fine.

Mana stones, artifacts, weapons too.

Thus Azriel wielded no mana gear or armor, unlike nearly everyone.

Including Jasmine.

He simply couldn't wield them.

Yet his talent stayed murky.

Only after the Crimson Clan's deeper probes did alarms ring. Void Creatures matched humans at equal mana core ranks in eerie ways. Forced mana infusion from a Void Creature mimicked Azriel's blasts. Humans didn't trigger it.

The revelation's horror deepened.

Records and theories agreed: even matched mana cores, Void Creatures lagged humans vastly in growth potential.

...Their verdict cut deep.

Azriel, Crimson Clan's prince, likely possessed zero talent.

He might never wield his mana effectively.

For a Four Great Clans heir, a mana-crippled child stamped talentless spelled ultimate doom.

Thus spawned tales of the unworthy prince, the Crimson Clan's foulest disgrace. The supreme shame among all elites.