Path of the Extra

One of the most dangerous things Azriel could ever face was someone capable of reading his mind—his memories. Azriel possessed countless secrets, truths that could get him killed, that could kill, and that inevitably would lead to death. Such insights revealed everything—his strengths, weaknesses, fears… everything.

But sometimes, far worse than exposing his vulnerabilities, mind-reading revealed the bitter truth of the scenarios themselves.

Azriel didn’t fully understand what these scenarios were. Certainly, he didn’t know everything—he hardly knew anything at all. Yet he was confident he knew more than most. But what about this Divine Spirit before him? Pollux undoubtedly surpassed Azriel when it came to knowledge. He was a Starblood, after all—a creature that once stood closest to the gods. Even without reading Azriel’s memories, Pollux likely had known from the start that this was merely a scenario—that this world had already fallen.

Did Azriel care, though?

No. No, he did not.

All he truly wanted at this moment—this single, reckless instant—was to utterly piss off the great Divine Star Spirit Emperor!

Yes, maybe he’d be thrown to millions of Void Worms again.

Yes, perhaps he’d be torn apart by another skinwalker.

Yes, perhaps this time he’d become the plaything of a monstrous titan.

But…

but he couldn’t just let this arrogant bastard go unchallenged! Who the hell did he think he was, showing up here with his lofty airs and grand speeches, acting as though he was offering Azriel mercy, when in reality Azriel would most likely spend the next century recovering from the trauma inflicted by him?

Screw Pollux! Screw his twisted deal!

Hatred surged through Azriel’s veins as he met the arrogant spirit’s gaze, his lips curling into a dark, twisted grin.

‘The last Starblood? Good—no, perfect! What a beautiful day to finally drive an entire Divine Spirit race into extinction! Aren’t I a splendid apostle, fulfilling the wishes of the gods themselves?’

What Pollux had offered Azriel was likely the deal of a lifetime—perhaps the deal of countless lifetimes. It could well be Azriel’s only chance to rid himself of [Redo].

But so what?

[Redo] was both a curse and a blessing—a double-edged sword that had brought Azriel immense suffering, yet ironically kept him alive. All he truly knew was the strange, horrifying feeling: if [Redo] disappeared, if he accepted the deal… he would suffer more than ever before.

No. He’d use Sealbreaker—not on himself, but on this arrogant bastard instead, breaking free from the Forest of Eternity at any cost.

Yet Azriel’s smile and bitter resolve shattered abruptly as Pollux suddenly threw his head back and laughed, using Jasmine’s voice and face to mock him as though he’d heard the most hilarious joke of his eternal life.

“Oh, that look in your eyes, human—I love it!” Pollux sneered, crimson eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Do you have any idea how few beings have ever dared open their mouths in my presence? Let alone challenged or insulted me? Even the gods themselves would second-guess their actions if I stood before them!”

Pollux laughed even harder, his voice wheezing with a twisted delight.

“Ah, I understand now—pulling one over on that insufferable God of Time gave you quite the confidence, didn’t it? Deceiving him to his face, using his machinations as nothing more than a platform to deliver a pep talk to the Little Moon, instead of becoming the villain he so desperately desired? Truly marvelous! Son of Death, I’m finally beginning to understand exactly how you keep getting yourself into so much trouble!”

Before Azriel even met the God of Time face to face, or if that face even truly represented the God of Time… Azriel had already noticed something strange: his thought process was twisting, slowly turning toward the path of becoming a villain.

He might have actually done it—become a villain—if, ironically enough, he hadn’t met Xian Feng.

Azriel’s expression grew colder with every word Pollux uttered, his anger crystallizing into silent fury.

Then, without warning, Pollux pointed Sealbreaker directly at him. Staring at its impossibly sharp tip, Azriel felt an icy chill ripple through his very soul, causing his entire body to shudder uncontrollably. Pollux’s gaze was lofty, filled with an overwhelming arrogance, yet when he spoke again, his voice dropped into a dangerously cold whisper:

“But I am not like Aevor.”

“…!”

‘Did he just say his—?!’

Azriel never had a chance to finish the thought. A terrible, crushing pressure abruptly descended upon them, forcing him to his knees.

The mad spirit laughed—a twisted, reckless laugh, as if taking pleasure in invoking a forbidden name. The entire room seemed to shudder violently as books cascaded from their shelves, scattering across the floor. Azriel gritted his teeth, desperately resisting the force that continued pressing him downward.

Pollux, however, merely chuckled lightly, seemingly unaffected.

“Now, now,” he murmured playfully, “there’s no need to get angry. I was simply teasing the human…”

Then he turned his head sharply toward an empty space—seemingly nowhere in particular—and suddenly, his crimson eyes narrowed with chilling authority.

“Drop your aura before I make you, World Providence.”

Instantly, the overwhelming pressure vanished, leaving Azriel gasping heavily, pale and sweating, his body trembling from exhaustion. Pollux stood effortlessly, looking down upon Azriel, who raised his head slowly, returning a hateful glare.

‘W-world Providence..!’

“See? You’re not the only one who can stir trouble, Son of Death.”

Pollux casually pointed Sealbreaker at him once more, a cruel glint appearing in his eyes.

“That boy who took your eye… shall I share something even more amusing about him?”

“…”

Pollux smiled darkly, the expression so sinister it felt as though something monstrous had softly caressed Azriel’s racing heart.

“This world, unlike yours, still adheres strictly to the laws of nature and mana—everything demands balance. Imagine, then, if I, Pollux, Great Divine Star-Spirit Emperor, Last Crown of the Starbloods, suddenly chose to dwell within this world. Naturally, the balance would shift, demanding immediate correction. Therefore, the world instinctively attempts to restore equilibrium by creating another ‘me,’ a crude imitation—a being that makes sense according to nature’s limited understanding. After all, the laws of nature and mana refuse to tolerate the existence of a singular anomaly.”

Pollux crouched in front of Azriel, smiling disdainfully, and Azriel’s single eye widened as realization began to dawn upon him.

“That boy who stole your eye—he is this world’s pitiful attempt at correcting my existence.”

“…!”

“Of course,” Pollux continued mockingly, “the attempt failed spectacularly. I stand above nature, above mana itself. If not even the gods can truly comprehend my nature, how could mere mana hope to replicate me?”

Pollux’s smile widened into something viciously satisfied.

“Surely you’ve noticed by now, Son of Death? This world could never copy a true Starblood. But perhaps if it tried to mimic my affinities and my [Unique Skill], it might manage a pitiful resemblance—or so it desperately hoped.”

Pollux laughed coldly again, savoring the horror blossoming across Azriel’s face as the truth sank in.

“The gods feared me precisely because, above all else, I am immortal.”

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