An hour had passed since Iryndra had accepted Azriel’s proposal.
They talked, learning about each other—at least to a level they were both comfortable with.
It was… enjoyable.
Azriel’s lips curled faintly as he watched her laugh softly, her voice delicate but genuine. She swung her legs in the air, perched on the chair, her laughter carrying an innocence that seemed almost foreign to this nightmare.
But then his smile faded, his expression sharpening as his thoughts grew heavier.
‘It’s almost like I’ve found the hidden protagonist of a novel… but in the book, she never appeared. So… she must have died—or something else happened.’
Not every Heptarch had been revealed in the book, but this was different. There wasn’t even a single hint of Iryndra’s existence.
Not one mention.
It was unbelievable.
And yet here she was, unabashedly revealing her affinity and [Unique Skill] to him, as though it was nothing worth hiding.
To her, it wasn’t.
But to Azriel? The mere thought of any of the Four Great Clans getting wind of her powers was terrifying.
Chaos would fall.
No wonder Neo Genesis wanted her. And yet, Azriel realized something else: Read exclusive content at freewebnovel
they feared her.
They feared what kind of monster she might become if they couldn’t control her.
After all, those with an affinity to [Space] could be counted on two hands. It was a gift so rare, so coveted, that it could send every elite clan, government, church, guild, and major organization into a frenzy.
It was said that those with [Space] affinity were both cursed and blessed by the gods.
And that was just her affinity.
Her [Unique Skill]?
Azriel’s thoughts darkened.
It was terrifying.
[Imperial Will].
There was no detailed description, no explanation for it. But its name alone was enough to send chills down Azriel’s spine. He had sensed something strange when she confronted the doctor earlier, and now he knew why.
Iryndra had used [Imperial Will] to silence the doctor, forcing him to shut up.
Azriel didn’t know the full extent of her abilities, their limitations, or what consequences might come with using them. But he understood this much: the gods had done their best to limit her potential.
Her body was weak.
She was only a Grade 3 Awakened. A Heptarch, yes, but one constrained by frailty. It was as though the heavens themselves were terrified of her, placing shackles on her power in the form of her weak physical form.
‘The issue lies in her mana veins,’ he thought. ‘If she becomes an Intermediate, her mana veins will evolve into soul veins. But… would that fix the problem? Dad or Mom might know how to help, though…’
That was a thought for another time.
For now, there was nothing he could do to strengthen her body.
“By the way, mister…”
Iryndra’s voice broke through his thoughts, drawing his attention.
She was frowning at him, her small brows furrowed—a look Azriel found endearing.
“How can I call you my older brother when I don’t even know your name?”
Azriel blinked, caught off guard.
“Oh,” he muttered.
‘Right… I haven’t even told her my name yet. I did mention I was Subject 666, but that obviously didn’t satisfy her.’
Her voice grew quieter, her golden eyes dropping as hesitation laced her next words.
“A-ah… Of course… If you don’t feel comfortable, you don’t… need to tell me.”
Her words faltered, growing weaker and softer.
Azriel suppressed a chuckle, smiling despite himself.
‘Cute.’
The urge to ruffle her onyx hair was overwhelming, but he restrained himself. He clasped his right hand with his left, forcing himself to stay composed.
Perhaps they were moving too fast.
But honestly? He didn’t mind.
She made him feel at ease—more so than anyone else ever had in this nightmare. Not the other subjects, not the Four Horsemen, and definitely not Vincent or Arthur.
Azriel cleared his throat, breaking the silence.
Her golden eyes snapped back to his, half-hopeful and half-filled with regret, as though bracing for disappointment.
Azriel smiled and closed his eyes, his voice taking on an exaggeratedly haughty tone.
“I know this might come as a shock to you, but my name is Azriel. Azriel Crimson—the prince of the Crimson Clan.”
He paused, imagining her reaction.
‘Heh, she must be shocked. Understandable, really. Anyone would be after realizing they’ve been talking to a prince this entire time. And she got adopted by this very prince. How selfless of me!’
“…”
The silence stretched longer than expected, a bit too long. Azriel cracked one eye open, his curiosity piqued—and what he saw made him open both eyes entirely.
Iryndra sat frozen, her small hands clasped tightly over her mouth, her body trembling until finally—
“P-pfft…!”
She burst out laughing, her voice bubbling with a mix of disbelief and amusement.
“M-Mister… you shouldn’t joke about things like that! Hahaha! The people of the great clans deserve respect, no matter what anyone else says…!”
She tried to speak through her laughter, her golden eyes sparkling, but Azriel stared back at her with a dry, unimpressed expression.
“I… am not lying, though.”
Iryndra nodded quickly, still trying to stifle her laughter, her lips curling into a sweet, angelic smile that could have disarmed anyone. Her laughter, so pure and enchanting, might have hypnotized others—but not Azriel. Not today.
“I-it’s okay, Mister. You don’t have to tell me if you’re not comfortable,” she said, her tone kind, as if absolving him of some great burden.
Her smile was like a divine blessing.
Azriel’s stare grew even drier.
‘…Why does this hurt my pride so much?’
He let out a small sigh, turning his attention to the modest cottage they were in, trying to mask his sulking expression. Iryndra, meanwhile, watched him with thinly veiled amusement, clearly entertained by his reactions.
Azriel grumbled inwardly.
‘Well… at least she’s enjoying herself. I’ll let it go for today. After all, I’m an honorable, selfless prince. I would never let a mere kid get to me. Never!’
Clearing his throat to regain some semblance of control over the conversation, Azriel glanced at her.
“By the way, what is this place?”
The question had lingered in his mind, unspoken until now. He had entered a mysterious, otherworldly cabin—following a girl who just so happened to be a Heptarch, one of Neo Genesis’ seven leaders. Even if her position was temporary, he should have been more cautious.
His mood soured.
‘Am I… am I too reckless? Could my father, sister, and mother actually be right about me?’
He shook the thought away.
‘No. Anyone else would’ve done the same in my position!’
Totally sane. Completely rational. That was him.
“Oh, I thought you were never going to ask!” Iryndra chimed, her voice carrying a hint of excitement.
Azriel’s lips twitched at her tone but said nothing as she gestured around the cabin.
“I found this place in the Void Realm about a year ago. It was all abandoned and really spooky, Mister! But ever since then, I’ve been using it. I marked this place, so I don’t have to waste much mana teleporting here. The weird thing is, when I come here, I already barely use any mana at all. It’s like… something’s helping me.”
“I see…” Azriel replied thoughtfully, not pressing her further. She had explained all she knew, and from what he gathered, this place was another curious anomaly of the Void Realm—like so many others.
Still, he glanced around the cabin suspiciously. Apart from the eerie lack of furniture, nothing seemed out of place. With a resigned sigh, he gave up on uncovering its secrets for now.
He turned his attention back to Iryndra, who was watching him curiously, her small legs swinging off the edge of the chair.
‘Is any of this even remotely like what originally happened?’
If Azriel had to answer that question, it would be a resounding yes. Because no matter what, this moment—being here with Iryndra, listening to her story—felt inevitable.
His expression darkened.
‘But if today’s the day… I’m going to get blessed by the God of Death.’
The thought chilled him, yet there was only one conclusion his mind could reach.
‘Death.’
And yet, he hesitated. As logical as it seemed, the memory of unlocking the [System] muddied his certainty.
According to the [System], he had “died” twice—once as Leo Karumi in his original world, and once as Azriel Crimson when the Void Rifts appeared. But that wasn’t entirely true.
His other self had sent him to [White Haven], which meant the original Azriel Crimson had died some other way—an inexplicable death that allowed him to take over the body.
So why didn’t the [System] say he had died thrice? In three worlds?
The Void Realm. The world of Path of Heroes. Leo Karumi’s world.
Something wasn’t adding up, and the unease in his chest tightened.
He looked at Iryndra, his expression solemn as he finally spoke.
“I know you might not like this… or it might come as a shock. But… I need you to send me back to that underground coliseum.”
Iryndra froze. Her face turned pale, her golden eyes wide and trembling.
“W-why… Why go back to that place? You’re free! We can run away! Stay together forever! We don’t need to go back..!”
Her voice cracked with desperation, but Azriel shook his head, a bittersweet smile on his face.
“You, as a Hep—someone who was with them, should know. Running from Neo Genesis is impossible. They won’t let you go. They won’t let me go. If we run and they catch us… they’ll kill us. They’re afraid of you, and they know I know too much.”
Iryndra bit her lip, her hands curling into trembling fists.
“Then… what should we do? I don’t want to go back there…”
Tears welled in her eyes, and Azriel’s heart ached at the sight. He stood, stepping closer and crouching down in front of her. With a gentle hand, he wiped the tears from her cheeks.
She looked at him, stunned, as he spoke with a voice so kind it felt holy.
“We’ll leave. Don’t worry. But there has to be a story. A story of how Project New Eden failed… and how Lady Iryndra sacrificed her life in the process.”