Path of the Extra Chapter 412: The Protagonist of the Scenario

With hushed steps, Azriel advanced, the faint sound of splashing water beneath him barely registering as his focus remained locked on the tablet he held. On its surface, a map sprang to life, its holographic display shimmering. Azriel manipulated it with deft finger movements, zooming in and out, sliding it across the screen. It was a three-dimensional representation of their surroundings, allowing him to navigate the terrain as if it were a tangible entity. Two crimson dots, clustered closely together, immediately caught his eye.

Celestina and Jasmine.

His fingers moved once more, bringing the map back to another red dot – his own position, precisely where he was standing. The map, a gift from the Second Authority, possessed a peculiar futuristic quality, yet its utility was undeniable. It had rendered his inquiries to Dame Selene about their current location entirely unnecessary. He possessed knowledge of every participant's whereabouts within this world.

This included the precise location of Celestina and Jasmine.

"Perhaps I spoke too freely."

The thought replayed in his mind as he reflected on his recent encounter with Lumine. A knot of frustration, entwined with embarrassment and regret, tightened in his chest. But after a moment's contemplation, he dismissed it with a shake of his head.

"What has been done cannot be undone."

All that remained was to ascertain if his words would hold true. He had not deceived Lumine; every statement he had uttered was the absolute truth.

Eventually, Azriel came to an abrupt halt. He turned his gaze to the right, where an opening in the wall presented itself – a newly formed passage.

This was the path that would lead him to the two princesses.

Without a moment's hesitation, he deactivated the tablet, raised his lantern, and stepped into the confined passage, its width barely sufficient for a single person to navigate.

With each step deeper into the passage, the water receded. It first dropped below his ankles, then to the soles of his feet, until he found himself trudging through thick mud. The passage remained narrow and constricting, offering no respite by widening. Soon, even the mud vanished, replaced by the hard, unyielding stone underfoot.

Azriel moved through the darkened cave in profound silence. The air was heavy and damp, thick with the musty odor of wet earth and ancient stone. As he progressed, the tunnel gradually began to expand.

Heaven only knew how long he had been walking.

But finally, he stopped.

For an instant, Azriel’s eyes widened in utter astonishment. He stumbled back a few paces, grappling to comprehend the spectacle before him.

He had entered a cavern of immense proportions.

Dozens of crystals, emanating a cold, white luminescence, were embedded deep within the ground and the surrounding walls.

The term instantly sprang to mind as his gaze swept over them. These crystals rose like jagged fangs from the earth, some reaching the height of massive pillars, while others lay fractured and half-buried beneath debris and dust.

However, it was not the mana stones that truly captured his attention.

His gaze stretched far beyond them.

Far, far beyond.

At the furthest end of the cavern stood a colossal, ancient stone gate, so immense it utterly dwarved everything in its vicinity. It measured at least two hundred, perhaps even four hundred feet in height. Even from this distance, Azriel could discern the intricate, unsettling symbols etched across its surface, complemented by metallic veins that traversed its structure, as if the gate itself had been ripped from the very core of the earth.

A sudden, unbearable discomfort spread through Azriel’s head the longer he stared at the symbols. Gritting his teeth, he instinctively averted his gaze.

This gate...

It held a profound sense of familiarity.

His breath quickened in rhythm with his pounding heart. Suppressing the surge of unease, Azriel compelled himself to move forward, step by deliberate step, towards the gigantic portal.

His pulse surged with each subsequent footfall.

And when he finally stood directly before it, he slowly extended his hand, placing his palm against the cold, timeless stone.

"God Runes..." Azriel whispered.

If not for his innate resilience, merely gazing upon them would have inflicted agonizing pain.

A second later, a subtle pulse emanated from within the gate.

It felt akin to a heartbeat.

Then, a wave of mana washed over him.

Another moment elapsed, and the symbols beneath his palm began to ignite, one after another, flooding the stone surface with a brilliant white light. A divine radiance surged outwards, enveloping Azriel like ethereal light from another realm.

This time, the glow persisted for several long seconds before gradually subsiding, leaving only the illuminated symbols behind.

Then, a deep rumbling sound echoed, reminiscent of distant thunder rolling through the cavern.

The gate shuddered.

With agonizing slowness, it began to swing open, dividing into two halves as dust rained down from its aged frame, settling upon Azriel.

And then—

Azriel perceived something both intimately familiar and strangely alien.

He stepped across the threshold of the colossal gate, his expression hardening as he surveyed the scene ahead.

He felt a surge of dismay.

Then, a wave of anger.

And with every step he advanced, that fury intensified.

For what awaited him was an underground colosseum.

Azriel ceased his advance.

He then pursed his lips.

Followed by a slow, deep exhalation.

And finally, he closed his eyes.

And in that moment, understanding dawned.

...This colosseum...

Old. Forsaken. Ancient.

This was the very same colosseum where he had spent the better part of over a year.

As Subject 666.

With a drawn-out, ragged breath, Azriel's eyes fluttered open. He found himself still standing within a tunnel, its width mirroring the immense colossal gate he had passed through. Perhaps, it was no longer appropriate to refer to it strictly as a 'gate'.

Far beyond its terminus, bathed in an eerie, silver ghostly luminescence, the grand colosseum came into view.

Recognition dawned instantly.

Yet, Azriel held an unshakeable certainty.

This was it.

This was the very colosseum where he had weathered countless battles against void creatures, the site of his inaugural confrontation with the Iron King.

As his steps carried him down the path illuminated by flickering silver flames, the frantic beating of his heart showed no sign of abating.

With each torch he passed, another chilling revelation would strike him.

This colosseum—a place now seemingly abandoned, yet inexplicably buried within the Void Realm—was the identical location where Azriel had once endured the suffering of Subject 666...

Azriel abruptly halted the thought.

He had arrived at the tunnel's end.

A grim resignation settled upon his features.

"Ah... it truly is the same..."

Indeed.

The circular tiers of stone seating ascended around him, standing in silent, shadowed grandeur. Colossal pillars, deeply scarred and worn from innumerable conflicts, supported the distant ceiling like ancient sentinels bearing immense weight. Torches cast flickering light along the walls.

It presented a different appearance.

But ultimately, it remained the same colosseum.

Only significantly larger in scale.

And perhaps, not nearly as ancient as it had been in the Void Realm.

Dismissing his lantern, a wave of nausea washed over Azriel. He lifted his hands to his face, rubbing his temples slowly.

He had been mistaken.

Gravely, terribly mistaken.

This particular sequence of events had never been chronicled within the book. Azriel grasped this much with clarity. Initially, he had presumed his own presence had initiated a butterfly effect, thereby altering the narrative.

But now, the truth became undeniably apparent: that was not the case.

This scenario...

The entirety of this...

It had never been intended for Jasmine, Celestina, Caleus, Lioren, Lumine, Yelena, Anastasia, Nol, Vergil, or any other individual for that matter.

It had never been intended for anyone other than Azriel.

All of this...

Was a consequence of him.

The original narrative underwent revision due to Azriel—

No.

That was not the truth.

That was far from the truth.

Azriel's heart gave a sudden, violent lurch.

A bone-chilling, dreadful fear coursed through him as the thought began to solidify.

This world...

This specific scenario...

It had been meticulously crafted for him alone.

Everyone else...

Was merely an extra.

Every single person was an extra, with the sole exception of Azriel.

This explained the proctor’s belated arrival.

This accounted for why, over countless months, Azriel alone had borne the brunt of the trial while the other participants subsisted on meager remnants of the scenario. Only Azriel had ever possessed the true capacity to advance it, with the rest merely being compelled to follow, striving to maintain their relevance.

However, none of that held any significance now.

Because this entire ordeal revolved around Azriel.

The whole thing.

The entire construct was designed to shatter him.

...The divine entities were attempting to break Azriel.