Path of the Extra Chapter 4: Death's Blossom

The very last spot he imagined ending up in turned out to be Europe.

The most dreadful continent imaginable for him.

Almost all of Europe, barring the northern regions, served as nothing short of a deadly trap.

"Are you seriously messing with me here!?"

"Even [Redo] can't pull me out of this mess!"

Indeed, [Redo] could offer him a single retry, but that's limited to just once!

He felt certain that lingering even a full day in central Europe would lead to him dying several times over from the terrifying monsters that lurked in these lands.

Maybe the deity of death proved less kind than he'd assumed.

He pictured the grim reaper chuckling down at him from the heavens, clad in a shadowy cloak that hid all but the misty-darkened features of his face, gripping a lengthy, ominous black scythe in his dominant hand.

Or maybe rising up from the depths?

Right on cue with his suspicions, thunder rumbled from beyond the heavy gray clouds hanging above the urban sprawl.

"Curses! I gotta escape ri-"

Suddenly, a howl echoed from behind, cutting Azriel off mid-sentence and sending chills racing down his spine.

With a jittery spin, he spotted exactly what he'd been desperate to evade at the street's far end.

Five beasts resembling wolves positioned themselves there, staring him down with eyes of pure darkness. Fur absent from their forms, they displayed bare, marred, charred flesh, certain areas festering and crumbling away.

Exposed cheek interiors showed their bare gums, while drool endlessly trickled from their wide-open jaws, forming puddles below.

A foul stench emanated from them, forcing Azriel to choke back the bile surging in his mouth.

'...Why the hell couldn't I land in a lighthearted romance world instead!'

Yelling inwardly, Azriel channeled mana through his gaze, examining the mana cores within the void beasts ahead.

"Out of the bunch, three are mere Grade 3 monsters, while the remaining pair consists of a Grade 2 and a Grade 1..."

The Grade 1 monster lacked one eye entirely, heightening its already horrifying appearance.

Azriel felt somewhat eased at this point, given that these void beasts before him were apparently inferior in power to himself...

Apparently.

Right now, the issue plaguing him was an overwhelming fatigue in both body and spirit.

Memories confirmed that his previous encounter with a void beast dated back over two years.

As the heir to the Crimson clan, he still remained merely a typical teen attending high school!

'Stay cool, Le- Azriel... I'm tougher... way tougher than these thi-'

"Eek!"

A startling shrill cry burst from his mouth when the menacing void wolves abruptly began advancing on him.

"U-um... you won't attack me, will you?"

"You're all nice little d-dogies, aren't you?"

In reply, a pair of the Grade 3 void wolves leaped forward at him.

'Nope!'

In his right grip, a katana appeared out of nowhere, its edge utterly black, stripped of hue like it had been swallowed by shadows. The handle featured elaborate designs in shades of ebony and crimson.

Void Eater.

The blade bestowed upon him by his father...

His personal soul weapon, which advances alongside his growth, setting it apart from standard ranked arms.

Mana's emergence transformed the world of Earth entirely. Mana stones materialized, sparking advancements in robust buildings and superior armaments.

Such a mana stone-forged weapon gains strength from the user's own mana, allowing control by, say, a master-level individual.

Naturally, no master-rank person could manage a saint's weapon, and an expert's tool would shatter in a master's hands, rendering the hero's path costly for most due to constant weapon upgrades with each rank advance.

Those blessed with soul weapons sidestep this hassle entirely.

Thanks to the extensive drills embedded in his psyche from Azriel's life, he reflexively raised Void Eater defensively right as the initial void wolf clamped its jaws on it, igniting a shower of sparks.

Fortuitously, as a Grade 3 Intermediate blade, it vastly outmatched the fangs of a basic Grade 3 creature.

With a powerful thrust from his right foot, he hurled the wolf backward into the cluster of observing void wolves.

Twisting leftward, he sensed mana flowing from his core along his bloodstream.

"[Frost Wall]!" he yelled at the second Grade 3 wolf charging his way.

Soon after, an icy barrier rose up, separating Azriel from the incoming foe.

His pulse hammered fiercely in his ribcage while adrenaline flooded his system.

"I'm Azriel. Keep that in mind. No longer Leo, but Azriel... Wait, no," he whispered under his breath.

"That's incorrect."

"I'm neither solely Azriel nor Leo any longer—"

"I embody them both."

"Gone are the days of being an extra or a plain high school kid."

"No more the youth orphaned by a tragic crash."

"No more the side character sacrificed to unite the leads."

"...Azriel Crimson."

A figure destined to avoid the fate of a mundane or overlooked side role.

Shattering rang out from the ice barrier as the trio of Grade 3 beasts opted to charge together rather than singly.

Glinting viciously, their needle-like fangs flashed while they pounced with maws agape.

Bloodthirsty intent radiated from their inky gazes.

Oddly enough, a profound serenity settled in his thoughts amid the assaulting monsters, without a trace of fear.

The flow of time appeared to drag as fresh knowledge surged into his consciousness with ease.

Crimson bolts of lightning flickered across Azriel's frame while ebony vapor billowed from his lips.

Wrapping around Void Eater came the vapor and electric arcs.

And then—

"First Form: Death's Blossom."

Murmured Azriel just as the void wolves neared, scant breaths from devouring him whole.

Yet in an instant, he blinked out of sight, materializing several paces past the Grade 3 beasts and directly before the Grade 2 and Grade 1 ones.

An elegant, streaming ballet of scarlet electricity and shadowy fog enveloped Azriel and the Grade 3 beasts, then the fog morphed into ebony blooms sparking with red energy, vanishing shortly into nothingness.

As he slashed with Void Eater, dark ichor sprayed across the pavement, accompanied by three heavy impacts from behind.

Glancing over his shoulder, the corpses of the Grade 3 beasts sprawled on the road, crimson streams gushing from their neatly severed throats.

Azriel's scarlet irises appeared lifeless.

No spark of feeling lingered there—flat and barren.

But the instant after, a notification popped up in his sight:

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Status Update!

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First form acquired!

[Sword Arts]: Dance of Death -> 5% mastery [1/?]

-> [First Form]: Death's Blossom

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The abrupt notification before his eyes jolted him back to reality, leaving him stunned at his updated status and the fallen Grade 3 beasts' remains.

Next, his gaze shifted to the Grade 2 and Grade 1 beasts eyeing him warily, and he could've sworn a flicker appeared in their obsidian stares...

...terror?

Alternating looks between them, a single question dominated his thoughts:

"What in the world just occurred?"