“Amaya, when will Azriel be back?”
Iryndra asked while lounging on the couch, watching a drama on TV. A bag of cookies rested on her lap, and she absentmindedly took another bite.
Amaya, who was in the kitchen wiping glasses clean, paused for a moment before smiling kindly at her.
“Are you going to ask the same question every day, Princess? You know he has class right now. And why do you only call him ‘Big Brother’ when he’s in front of you?”
Iryndra narrowed her eyes at Amaya, then looked away in annoyance. She chewed her cookie, swallowed, and spoke quietly.
“I’ll only call him that when I’m with him. Other than that…”
“It would be too embarrassing for you,” Amaya finished with a knowing smirk.
Iryndra didn’t respond. She simply grabbed another cookie and took a bite, making Amaya’s smile widen as she walked over to the couch.
“You really care for him, don’t you?”
For a moment, Iryndra met Amaya’s gaze, but then something melancholic flashed in her golden eyes, and she looked down.
“…You heard how Azriel met me from his perspective,” she murmured. “But not mine. You don’t know what I saw that day.”
Amaya’s hands froze. Then, after a brief hesitation, she sat down beside Iryndra, who was still staring at the floor.
“His Highness didn’t tell us much about what he went through back then,” Amaya said softly.
Iryndra nodded and lifted her head slightly, her golden eyes locking onto Amaya’s.
For a brief moment, Amaya found herself unable to look away, as if spellbound.
“I already knew Azriel could use Aura before he revealed it,” Iryndra admitted. “Lucidiux—the one I was forced to be a daughter to so they’d believe I was on their side—he told me. He said Azriel had been using Aura all along.”
Amaya’s eyes widened slightly, but Iryndra only smiled—a small, sad smile.
“Azriel was the first person to catch my eye that day… and the only one. We were in a colosseum. Dozens of humans in identical clothes sat above, watching in fear and excitement. In the middle of the arena, four humans stood like caged animals. Azriel was one of them—standing in front of the other three. And those three… they were looking at him the same way the crowd did. With fear.
Behind him was a throne made of ice. It was beautiful, really detailed… When Azriel turned around, I—”
She hesitated, then exhaled slowly.
“I can’t explain it. I just knew I could trust him completely. I know it sounds weird and stupid, but… it’s the truth.”
Amaya placed a gentle hand on Iryndra’s head, making her stiffen in surprise. Then, slowly, she began running her fingers through Iryndra’s hair.
“You seem to have an excellent judge of character, Princess. Also, if not for you, the Prince might not have returned to us so soon.”
Iryndra’s lips curled into a small, happy smile. She enjoyed the warmth of Amaya’s hand—not that she would ever admit it.
Looking down, she absently played with a cookie in her hand before speaking again.
“…He might have never died if not for me.”
Amaya’s hand froze. A quiet sadness filled her gaze before she spoke.
“His Highness’s death was not your faul—”
Before she could finish, Iryndra suddenly shook her head, her hair swaying wildly and brushing against Amaya’s face.
“I didn’t mean it like that…!”
She looked up and smiled—a radiant, genuine smile that made Amaya’s heart flutter.
“I’m happy,” she said.
“Because Azriel could have done what he did whenever he wanted. There was nothing stopping him from making the mana contract before or after meeting me. But he didn’t. I think… I think he was afraid, too. Afraid to take that step.
And knowing that I was the reason he did it—that makes me happy. I owe him everything.”
Amaya remained still, staring at her.
Iryndra continued.
“He could have asked the God of Death for anything. His own life. Someone else’s life. A way back home. Anything. But instead… he used it for me. Someone he had only known for less than a day.
He’s an idiot who gave up something so precious just for me.
How could I ever repay that kind of kindness?
The only thing I can do is be there whenever he needs me.”
For a long moment, Amaya simply watched her. Then, with a soft sigh, she smiled helplessly.
“You’re lucky,” she murmured. “But… so is he, for meeting someone as precious as you, Princess.”
Iryndra averted her gaze, cheeks slightly flushed. She shoved an entire cookie into her mouth, making Amaya chuckle in amusement.
As she swallowed, Iryndra’s smile softened. Then, in a quiet murmur, she spoke words that only Amaya could hear.
Words that Amaya couldn’t quite understand.
“…I just hope he becomes happy one day.”
*****
“It would be an honor to take part in this mission, your Highnesses,” Sir Henrik said after entering the director’s office, hearing everything—this time from Celestina’s mouth.
Not long after that, Azriel instructed Edge to gather anyone useful to form an extermination squad.
…There weren’t many.
Surprisingly, Gavin made the cut, being a Grade 1 Awakened.
Then, there were two others who could join without risking certain death.
Both were women. One’s name was Nova—she was a Grade 3 with dark brown hair and violet eyes—and the other was Sophia, also a Grade 3 Awakened, with dark hair and brown eyes.
The extermination squad thus consisted of Henrik, Azriel, Celestina, Gavin, Sophia, and Nova.
…Edge was not going to join them, as he was merely a Grade 1 Dormant and had no combat experience.
After that, the extermination squad began preparing.
Azriel quickly finished putting on his soul armor, Void Eater in his right hand, leaning against the wall as he watched and waited for the others to get ready.
Unlike Azriel, Celestina, or Sir Henrik, the others didn’t have a soul weapon or soul armor, so it took them some time to get suited up while also wielding their mana weapons.
Watching them silently, Azriel glanced across the office, where Celestina stood, talking to Sir Henrik about something, with Edge standing nearby.
Like Azriel, Celestina wore her soul armor. The beautiful silver armor matched her hair, hugging her figure perfectly, and in her right hand was a sword whose sharpness made Azriel shiver slightly.
Azriel then closed his eyes for a moment, but as soon as he did, a sharp, piercing pain shot through his head, making his eyes snap open.
His head started to ring.
Azriel gritted his teeth, his expression hardening.
‘Again…?’
Just like when he was in class, the same pain returned, but this time, it was centered in his head.
‘Dammit… [Soul’s Crucible] isn’t working..!’
The sharp throb echoed behind his eyes, like nails being hammered into his skull. The pressure in his temples built with every heartbeat, as though something were trying to tear its way out from inside his head.
He clenched Void Eater tighter, but the pain only seemed to intensify.
Then… Azriel’s mind trembled, and he remembered something—a flicker of something important—just out of reach.
It was there, then it wasn’t.
When he tried to focus on it, it vanished, fading into the depths of his mind like smoke in the wind.
And then… the pain vanished as well, along with whatever he had just remembered.
The ringing stopped.
Azriel rubbed his head with his dark gauntlet, letting out a tired sigh.
“Just what is happening to me…” he murmured, irritated.
Was he finally slipping into a new kind of madness? Was he actually sick?
It wasn’t impossible for an Intermediate to fall ill—just extremely rare. There had even been cases of Advanced-ranked humans catching the flu.
But once someone became a Master, natural illness should be impossible.
Azriel, however, didn’t think he was sick. He wasn’t just any Intermediate.
He was the son of one of the Ten Gods.
‘I keep remembering something… but what?’
What else was left for him to recall?
Azriel sighed again.
“Your Highness… may I have a moment?”
His eyes snapped open at the soft voice in front of him. A guard stood there, her posture straight but her expression uncertain.
“Sure. You’re Sophia, right?”
Keeping his voice even, Azriel studied her. She was clad in leather armor that fit snugly against her frame, a sword strapped to her side.
‘It might seem low-quality, but that armor can probably handle a few decent hits.’
As for the sword… he couldn’t tell.
Sophia’s face brightened as she nodded enthusiastically.
“I didn’t think you’d bother remembering my name,” she said, then suddenly bowed. “I just wanted to say it’s an honor to be working with you. I’m a huge fan of Princess Jasmine, and helping you—someone who just saved CASC—it feels like a dream.”
Azriel blinked in mild surprise before offering a small smile.
“Raise your head. I’ll do what I can to meet expectations. I’m sure my sister appreciates your support.”
Sophia straightened and kept smiling at him. Then, her eyes widened slightly.
“Oh! There’s some dirt on your face,” she said, her voice surprised.
Before he could react, she leaned forward. Her left hand brushed against his left gauntlet, and her right reached toward his face.
Azriel’s eyes narrowed slightly.
For a brief moment, time seemed to slow. He watched her hand inch closer.
Then, just as she was about to touch him, his hand shot up, gripping her wrist tightly.
Sophia let out a small squeal of surprise. Somehow, she stumbled forward, pressing against his armor.
Warmth seeped through the armor.
Silence fell over the room as all eyes turned toward them.
Azriel blinked, still holding her wrist as he looked down at her.
‘…How did she even trip?’
“T-That surprised me…!” Sophia stammered, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. “S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep my boundaries…!”
Azriel sighed internally.
“It’s fine. It was just an accident.”
He let go and helped her step back. She quickly put some distance between them, avoiding his gaze as her pale cheeks turned slightly red. Absentmindedly, she ran her fingers through her hair.
Azriel watched her, his expression turning dry.
‘I see…’
Without another thought, he turned and walked toward Henrik, Edge, and Celestina.
As he reached them, Celestina shifted her gaze from him to Sophia, tilting her head slightly.
Looking at Celestina, Azriel asked,
“So, is there anything important I should know before we head there?”
Sir Henrik stepped forward, holding a stack of documents. He handed them to Azriel, who took them and started skimming through the pages.
“There isn’t much to go by when it comes to Floor -2,” Henrik said. “But if we consider the most problematic ones from Floor -1, these two stand out. The director personally recorded all available information on them.”
Azriel nodded as he read through the reports.
The Womb of Silence
A bloated, headless humanoid wrapped in layers of stitched flesh, as if someone had tried to seal it shut. From its split abdomen, a tangle of pale, emaciated arms reaches out, clawing at the air. Something moves inside its body, pressing against the skin, like it’s trying to escape.
Does not appear to have any affinities but possesses abilities. I have personally named them.
Stillbirth: If it touches a living being, their lungs cease to function. They collapse in silence, unable to breathe. Seven researchers have died to this ability.
False Birth: It vomits malformed, shrieking creatures from its open gut—half-formed humanoids that crawl toward the nearest victim. They are easy to kill.
Currently, these are the only abilities I have observed. However, I suspect there is another one.
Gestation (Theorized): An ability it may use only when certain of its own death. If triggered, its stomach will fully split open, revealing something worse inside. It must be killed immediately if this occurs.
Something inside it is still growing. It should have never been born.
Azriel’s expression darkened slightly as he moved on to the next file.
The Black-Antlered King
One personally gifted by the current Dusk Heir… I fear this one must be exterminated soon.
A massive, skeletal, deer-like creature standing upright. Its antlers are blackened and covered in rotting, grasping hands. A crown is fused to its skull, leaking black tears down its face.
It does not shy away from revealing everything it has.
Hollow Coronation: Anyone who bows before it will have their bones slowly rip out of their body to form a throne beneath its feet. Even unintentionally lowering yourself will have the same effect.
The King’s Feast: If it touches a body, all color drains from their flesh, reducing them to a lifeless white husk. There is no turning back once this ability is used.
It once ruled something greater. Now, it is only hunger.
Azriel looked at Henrik.
“What are these last sentences at the end of each report?”
Edge stepped forward with an awkward smile.
“You see… the director had a habit of writing these eerie little notes to match each void creature. Whether they have any actual meaning, I can’t say.”
Azriel glanced at him before looking back at the papers in his hands.
“It would be best if we avoid Floor -1 entirely,” he said. “Still, as a precaution, evacuate the entire facility.”
“…Everything?” Edge asked, looking surprised.
Azriel met his gaze, his expression turning cold.
“Yes. Everything. Once this is over, regardless of whether those void creatures are still alive, they will be exterminated. This entire facility will be shut down.”
Edge hesitated before lowering his head in shame.
“R-right…”
Celestina, ignoring the tension, spoke up.
“There’s an elevator. No power works on Floor -2, but it does on -1 for now. Once we take the elevator down, we can climb the rest of the way and deal with whatever is waiting for us quickly.”
Azriel nodded.
“Sounds good.”
“I’m going to inform the others,” Celestina said, her expression slightly tense as she glanced at the others before walking away.
Azriel watched her for a moment, then turned back to Henrik.
“Give it to me straight, Sir Henrik.”
Henrik turned to Azriel, his expression puzzled.
“I don’t follow?”
“What’s your opinion on all this? Do you think we should go and kill whatever’s in the Black Zone? Or should we turn back and let someone else handle it?”
Azriel glanced ahead, watching Celestina speak to the other guards. He waited for Henrik’s response.
For a few seconds, there was only silence. Then, Henrik spoke cautiously.
“…If I may be bold, Your Highness, I don’t think there’s another option.”
Azriel turned back to him, listening quietly.
“There are fewer than a hundred Saints, fewer than a thousand Grandmasters, and fewer than ten thousand Masters. Situations like these aren’t uncommon. Missions—even those from the Academy—escalate into life-threatening ones more often than not, especially those assigned to the Hero Academy. And there are far worse things happening elsewhere all the time.
Because of that, the strongest heroes can’t be spared for something like this—something that might seem trivial in their eyes… perhaps even in yours. Sure, as a royal, you could say the word, and someone more capable might come to deal with this, but we don’t know how long that would take. We don’t know how much time we have before something goes terribly wrong.”
Henrik paused, choosing his words carefully before continuing.
“…And as a prince of the Crimson Clan, as a princess of the Frost Clan, you and Her Highness are expected to handle situations like this without too much trouble. Even if that weren’t the case… we live with blood on our hands every day. We can’t ask for someone else to clean up the mess when we’re the ones meant to be called upon.
I-I apologize if I’ve spoken out of turn. I’m not the best with words.”
Henrik let out an awkward chuckle, rubbing the back of his head.
Azriel gave him a small, reassuring smile and shook his head.
“No. I understand perfectly.”
‘Everyone in this world is fucking crazy.’
Henrik exhaled, relieved.
“Good, then.”
A hesitant voice spoke up.
“Umm… Your Highness?”
Azriel turned, already annoyed.
“What?”
Edge laughed nervously and pointed at his left shoulder.
“W-well… I was wondering if you could remove this spell you cast on me…”
For a moment, Azriel just stared at him. Then, he smirked.
“I won’t.”
Edge swallowed.
“That spell is my assurance. For what? I haven’t decided yet. But you will sit in that chair and stay put until we return. If we don’t come back by the end of the day, you’ll call for emergency reinforcements.” Azriel’s smile widened slightly. “You’d better pray it doesn’t come to that—because if two royals go missing, you’ll be the one held responsible.”
Edge visibly paled. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.
Without another word, he dragged his feet back to his desk and sat down, silent.
Then, Celestina returned, her expression serious.
“Everyone is ready. We can leave.”
Azriel glanced at her, then at Henrik. They exchanged a nod.
“Let’s not waste any time, then.”
[Auxiliary Chapter: The Void has been significantly updated!]