Path of the Extra Chapter 394: Silver Fireworks

Years afterward, the sheer volume of disdain and scorn heaped upon the unworthy prince would prove impossible to quantify.

And still...

Yet the greatest irony lay in this: the so-called unworthy prince, Azriel Crimson, appeared utterly indifferent to it all.

At minimum, he never let it show.

Such things failed to anger Azriel.

For Jasmine, whether in the past or present, her mindset stayed straightforward.

So what?

So what if Azriel lacked talent?

So what if mana eluded him?

None of it concerned her in the least.

Azriel remained Azriel. Her younger brother.

She cherished him back then, and her love endured unchanged.

The gossip enraged her. Those surrounding her enraged her. But the deepest fury burned from the betrayal by those she least suspected.

Her very own parents.

Azriel's parents too.

Her remarkable memory, as mentioned, let her vividly recall their once-warm affection prior to the talent evaluation.

She recalled too the bewilderment etched on their faces that fateful day.

Further probing into Azriel's issue shifted that bewilderment gradually into dismay.

Soon enough, scarce genuine recollections survived of the four forming a true family.

They ignored Azriel.

From that point, Jasmine struggled to remember any authentic affection shown to him post his unworthy label.

Maybe love lingered in their hearts.

Maybe they displayed it sporadically, away from prying eyes.

That changed nothing.

Not for her.

To Jasmine, neglect defined their actions.

The sole grace amid the ordeal was Azriel's brief fixation on it back then; his youth prevented full comprehension. Another child his age might have lingered far longer.

Even harsher in Jasmine's view was this truth:

In spite of it all, despite scorning him as the unworthy prince, lingering faint hopes clung to him.

That one day, he might disprove their judgments.

That he might unveil some concealed worth.

Hope.

Some still harbored it.

Hope he could yet hold value.

Naturally, Azriel refused to grant them even that shred.

...Oh, how Jasmine would mock them today.

And denounce them as well.

How gravely they all erred.

Behold him now.

Terror and pride warred within Jasmine.

She proved correct.

And her correctness implied more.

Azriel had scarcely tapped into his fearsome talent.

Without it, he ascended to Expert rank.

Solely through endurance.

...How fearsome.

Nothing restrained Azriel Crimson...

save Azriel Crimson.

"You were right," Azriel uttered abruptly, gaze fixed forward.

Snapped from her reflections, Jasmine reclined and regarded him wordlessly.

Azriel compressed his lips, wrestling inwardly. Then, in a hushed tone, he continued.

"...I don’t value my life."

"...!"

"I don’t think I ever have."

Survival marked his path, yet true living evaded him.

"Back when Nathan mentioned finding his mother's inaction odd—during Lia's illness, amid my mistreatment..." Azriel swallowed hard. "It stemmed from my threat to end my life before her. I pressed a knife to my wrist."

"What...?"

Horror seized Jasmine's features. Azriel avoided her eyes, shame weighing heavily in his chest.

The show had shifted by now. Bubbles drifted throughout, with kids dashing among them, giggling while popping each.

"It’s not like I want to die, though," Azriel interjected unexpectedly, nearly self-contradictory, prompting Jasmine to nibble her lip.

"But... I guess I don’t really care about my life either. Not deeply. Subconsciously, I’ve always known that—no matter how much I lied to myself. I kept coming up with excuses, trying to give myself a reason not to give up."

His gaze sharpened in irritation at his confession, though his voice rang hollow.

"My thoughts were more like... ’After everything, there has to be something better on the other side,’ you know? There had to be a reason for everything I lived through. But I was desperate. So I gave myself these ’dreams’ and ’goals.’ Things like maybe opening a small coffee or tea shop someday."

A smile tugged at Jasmine involuntarily—followed by a sharp pang of grief beneath.

"Destroying [redo]. Wanting to see how all of this would end. Wanting a happy life. Convincing myself I had uncovered lies and grown as a person." He exhaled. "But all of those were lies too."

Lies piled upon lies upon lies.

More pretexts he fed himself to persist, while Azriel embodied utmost self-sabotage.

Perhaps self-punishment drove him.

Jasmine couldn't say. Perhaps guilt. Perhaps warped redemption.

But why?

Why shoulder such guilt as if it were truly his own? For simply existing? For the life thrust upon him?

Jasmine could sense, while gazing at Azriel, that he still withheld some secret. A profound self-loathing burned in those striking crimson eyes.

"What are you holding back from me?" she inquired gently, even though her words emerged heavier than planned. "You have a reason for sharing this. A reason for pushing me to grasp why you believe your death wouldn't be so terrible."

She nearly had to drag those words out.

The air between them hung heavy and oppressive, clashing sharply with the lively festival ahead. No wonder Jasmine felt queasy.

Azriel's smile resembled that of one who'd ceased all resistance at last. He met her eyes briefly before dropping his gaze once more.

"Recall what I mentioned about my family's death?"

Jasmine's face grew somber as she nodded deliberately.

"Yeah. Your other self... with [redo] beheaded them."

After a brief pause, Azriel replied.

"...My recollections as Leo Karumi differ."

Confusion furrowed Jasmine's brow. She believed she grasped his point—yet doubt lingered. Fortunately, Azriel pressed on.

"In Azriel's memories, my prior self slaughtered them. But as Leo... that day remains vivid. Two officers pounded on my door, announcing my family's death in a crash..." He halted.

"Except for my mother."

Jasmine nearly leaped from her seat.

"S-she survived?!"

Azriel gave a single nod.

"I raced to the hospital alongside them. Staff blocked my path to her room, but I shoved through the door. She lay semi-conscious. Amid the chaos of them pulling me away, her gaze fixed on me. She knew who I was..."

Suddenly, Azriel went quiet. His lips clamped shut, and he wrestled briefly with the words. As if uttering them caused agony. When they finally came, his whisper barely registered.

"Yet the instant she knew me... nothing but hatred filled her eyes."

That woman had shaped so much of Azriel's world. Despite her atrocities, her shadow would forever haunt him.

"They hauled me from the room afterward."

Azriel, looking utterly spent, scrubbed his face and trailed a hand downward, emitting a weary, stifled groan.

Jasmine assumed that concluded it.

She couldn't have erred more.

"Evidently... she was expecting."

"Huh?"

Jasmine's thoughts blanked out. Remarkable, given the day's barrage of revelations.

"I was clueless too. Until roughly an hour passed." Azriel's tone grew empty. "Mother perished during surgery. They fought to save the child... but failed."

Though tears didn't fall, Azriel's eyes gleamed red.

With his silence now, a faint relief washed over Jasmine—simply because his tale had ended.

Still, she posed the question.

"So you fault yourself for that as well?" Her tone pleaded softly.

"...Different choices from me... and they'd all be alive."

"You aren't God."

"..."

"No death rests on your shoulders."

"You're mistaken. Closer attention to her would've revealed the pregnancy. But I chose poorly instead." Azriel's jaw clenched. "You see, a certain restaurant was our ritual whenever Mother felt down—or drained from hospital shifts. Doctors endure many such days. Monthly, we'd all head there as a family. Yet I overlooked her reduced hours over four months. And in that time, I skipped those outings. Always some pretext to dodge them... so I missed their switch to a new spot."

Teeth grinding, Azriel spat the words as if they scorched his throat.

"But post-argument, they returned to the old place. Not from her work woes or sadness—because of me. Due to the quarrel I sparked. That's why they veered from their planned restaurant that day. Without my interference, they'd have avoided that route. Had I stayed silent, or made amends... skipped those foolish decisions—if only I'd heeded her..."

Each word trembled more violently. His head drooped as he hunched forward, shielding his face from Jasmine, though she pictured the anguish etched there.

"...Dammit," he muttered finally.

For an instant, Jasmine lost her words.

...Yes. Had he chosen differently, perhaps they could have survived. Azriel held no fault in his words. It was possible his decisions led directly to their deaths.

Yet then—what price might their survival have exacted?

And moreover...

"...I don’t get how she was ’alive’ in the hospital," Jasmine murmured softly, pushing the words past the constriction in her chest, "when your former self had already caused her death. But... even on a different path, I believe you couldn’t have rescued them."

Her throat constricted tightly.

"Their deaths were fated. Inevitably so."

"..."

Azriel remained silent.

Jasmine wondered if her words rang true or false, yet deep down, she held conviction in them. Despite the baffling, migraine-provoking puzzle, it rang with authenticity.

How could Jeanne be deceased already, while Leo recalled her living in the hospital?

Was it truly Jeanne? Or another person?

If Leo held that memory, did others share it as well?

Had all memories been tampered with?

How?

Why?

Questions overwhelmed her.

One certainty stood out to Jasmine, however.

She had erred in one regard.

...That fabricated tale Azriel and Leo had woven in their thoughts.

It hadn’t fully crumbled yet.

Not until this moment.

Gazing at his hunched figure, a profound, throbbing sorrow gripped Jasmine—stemming from the fact...

She bore the blame for unearthing this torment in him.

Only a tiny remnant lingered, the final shard shielding the complete truth. Azriel had clung to it to suppress everything, even as it fractured his sanity bit by bit.

Yet during their clash—when dread of her desertion struck him, followed by the compulsion to reveal the truth—he faced an unavoidable reckoning.

Acknowledgment became imperative.

That ultimate admission shattered the deception utterly, forever.

Azriel had confessed the truth to Jasmine...

and at last, to his own self.

It fell upon Jasmine’s shoulders—and still, regret eluded her. No matter the revulsion it stirred, no matter the self-loathing it ignited, she simply could not muster it.

"Sorry."

Her head whipped toward him, stunned.

"Why apologize to me?" A trace of ire laced her tone—ire she instantly wished retracted, for she was the one owing an apology.

Azriel appeared unperturbed. Or perhaps oblivious. His face stayed lowered.

"...It’s overwhelming, isn’t it? Learning I existed in an entirely separate life—filled with so many events—where I might not even be your true br—"

"You are my brother. Whatever doubts plague you, I’ll repeat it until you embrace that reality."

Jasmine interrupted sharply, her stare firm and reproachful.

A faint chuckle escaped him.

"What makes you so certain?"

"I simply know."

This exchange had occurred before, but evidently, more repetitions loomed before he relented. So Jasmine surmised.

"...Understood."

With a drawn-out exhale, he straightened up at last, scrubbing his face using both palms.

Sensing words were needed, Jasmine issued a stern caution.

"...Suicide is off-limits for you."

Azriel halted his motions and met her eyes, puzzled.

"I have no desire to die."

"That’s your claim, yet as you admitted—opportunity would tempt you."

Azriel’s brow furrowed, but Jasmine pressed on swiftly, forestalling him.

"Deny you’ve at least pondered sacrificing yourself to defeat Pollux?"

Azriel averted his gaze promptly, falling quiet.

...Just last week, he’d nearly begun forging a mana contract.

Best to leave that unspoken.

Convinced of her accuracy, Jasmine sighed in frustration.

"As stated, I forbid wasting your life. I’ll intervene regardless."

Meeting her eyes again, Azriel saw her utter seriousness. No trace of levity. Her tone and gaze burned with unprecedented gravity.

No reply came from him. No response. Jasmine tabled it temporarily, though irritation simmered within as he dodged concession.

Drawing in a deep breath and releasing it, she abruptly rose from the bench—and amid that oppressive air, with an abrupt, wildly cheerful grin, she beamed at him.

"Enough brooding. Time to dive into the festival at last!"

Azriel’s eyes bulged. He gaped as though she’d gone insane.

"Fun now? For real?" After baring his soul as an unforgivable beast and recounting Leo’s catastrophe...

She... truly was unhinged.

His thoughts screamed across his features. Jasmine maintained her smile, deftly overlooking the skepticism in his stare.

"Prefer weeping?"

"...No," Azriel refuted, eyeing her skeptically still.

"Then what? There’s no point in us spending the rest of our—possibly—free time depressed. There are a lot of issues to work on. I know that clearly now. But nothing will be fixed today, even if we wanted it to be. So let’s at least try to make something positive out of whatever is left of today, alright?"

Azriel paused briefly. Jasmine wouldn't compel him if he really didn't wish to continue. The day had burdened them heavily, making it reasonable for him to want to end it right there.

In truth, she craved the same—but...

That choice would merely lock them inside their somber thoughts, dragging them down into an even darker spiral.

"...Fine."

Fortunately, Azriel appeared to get it, despite his weary and vacant expression. He likely consented only because of Jasmine.

That defined his character.

For his family, Azriel stood as the most compassionate individual she had ever encountered.

"Alright, let’s go."

"Woah—wait!"

Azriel cried out when Jasmine seized his hand, hauled him upright, and tugged him forward.

Without delay, a familiar upbeat voice rang out.

"Master~ Jasmine~ we’re back—with food!"

They spun around.

Nol lugged two full buckets packed with assorted treats—skewered bites, crispy chicken, and unfamiliar goodies Jasmine couldn't identify. Celestina strode alongside him. Oddly, she clutched an unfolded pure silver fan of obvious luxury, shielding most of her face. Jasmine swore she spotted it in her eyes—the struggle Celestina faced to conceal her blatant pride in the acquisition.

Leading the silver-haired duo was Lia, happily gnawing on cotton candy.

Their arrival timed flawlessly.

Far too flawlessly.

For an instant, Jasmine nearly suspected they had hung back until the conversation wrapped up. Yet she remained hyper-vigilant at all times—even as Azriel spoke. She surely would have detected any watcher, listener, or stealthy approach.

...Ultimately, she dismissed it as pure chance.

Particularly given that their haul from those absent hours extended well beyond just meals.

And frankly—what stroke of luck for them that Jasmine had stayed too absorbed with her little brother to track them down sooner.

*****

"Are you alright, Azriel?"

Celestina flicked her fan closed with a snap, eyeing him with soft worry while they walked side by side. She gripped Lia’s hand in her own. The query drew Nol's notice as well—he shot a look their way, lips still slick with greasy remnants from his snack—as the group sought a bigger, calmer area to settle.

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

To his relief, Celestina shook her head.

"No, it’s just... I thought you seemed upset."

"...I’m fine," Azriel answered offhandedly, gaze shifting ahead once more.

"I apologize for assuming."

Azriel glanced at her and