The Game's Extra: Azhriel Odyssey-Chapter 121: Clearing The Hurdles-1

"Two thousand platinum coins."

The words fell like thunder across the silent hall.

It was an amount that even nobles—those used to tossing gold around for luxury—would hesitate to spend without serious thought.

And yet, a single boy, sitting calmly among the crowd, had just bid it without a hint of hesitation.

Azhriel.

The murmurs began almost instantly.

"Did he just say two thousand?"

"That’s two hundred thousand gold coins!"

"Is he insane—or... just that rich?"

Even the nobles in the VIP lounges looked stunned. The sheer audacity of the bid sent a ripple of disbelief across the entire auction house.

Up in the main cast’s lounge, no one could speak. Raymond, Samuel, Chloe, and the rest simply stared at Azhriel, who looked utterly indifferent—like someone who had just ordered tea instead of spending a fortune.

It was unbelievable. Hard to digest. But one truth became clear to all of them.

Azhriel was loaded.

They had no idea how, or from where, but it was obvious now—he wasn’t some ordinary student barely scraping through. He had money.

A lot of it.

Azhriel leaned back slightly, his azure eyes calm and distant as his fingers tapped the armrest.

’That should end this useless bidding quickly,’ he thought, watching the stunned faces of people who had just realized they couldn’t compete.

And finish it did.

No one dared to raise the bid after that.

Even those who had the wealth to continue hesitated—was the unconscious woman really worth such an astronomical price? If she were that powerful, why was she being sold like a mere object?

Doubt and fear clouded their greed.

No one spoke again.

The host stood frozen for several seconds, blinking rapidly before finally regaining his composure. His voice trembled slightly as he raised the gavel.

"S-Sold! Sold for two thousand platinum coins!"

The sound of the gavel striking echoed through the grand hall, marking the end of the auction.

And as the crowd erupted into whispers and gossip, Azhriel simply closed his eyes, a faint smile touching his lips.

Soon, the auction finally came to an end.

The crowd slowly dispersed, but the main cast didn’t move from their lounge. They stayed seated, their expressions quiet, thoughtful, and still a little shaken by what had just happened.

Azhriel had already paid for both the elf and the piece of land. Everything was settled with unnerving calm, as if spending that much money was nothing to him.

A waitress entered and politely handed them their purchased items—carefully packed and sealed. As for Maera, the unconscious elf, they had already given instructions for her to be placed in Chloe’s carriage under special care.

Of course, the auction staff had suggested branding her while she was still unconscious, but Azhriel’s refusal was immediate and sharp.

There was no room for argument.

Now, as the group prepared to leave, Azhriel adjusted his gloves and spoke quietly, "Let’s go."

They left the auction hall together, walking into the cool night air.

The streets were calmer now, the noise of trade and voices replaced by the soft hum of distant mana lamps.

They soon reached the luxurious hotel the main cast was staying in and entered their rented suite, where the dim lights gave the place a calm, golden glow.

*****

"So, when is she going to wake up?" Azhriel asked as he stepped into the room.

The others were gathered around the bed where Maera lay, motionless and pale. Her breathing was steady but faint, her body still showing the effects of whatever drug had been used on her.

"It’ll take around two hours, at least," Sydelle answered, her tone steady but focused.

"The drug she was given is incredibly strong. Whoever did this... they wanted her completely helpless. Even a transcendent-ranked body can’t easily fight it off."

Her eyes narrowed as she looked down at the elf. She had spent the past half hour analyzing traces of the substance in Maera’s blood.

"I already contacted our alchemy instructor for guidance," Sydelle continued. "The antidote’s been administered. She should recover soon."

Azhriel exhaled quietly, a small breath escaping his lips as if a weight had lifted from his shoulders.

To everyone else, it looked like he was relieved—worried for Maera’s safety. They thought it showed his rare softer side.

But the truth was different.

’Good,’ Azhriel thought, his eyes darkening for a moment. ’That’s all I needed to know.’

He wasn’t relieved because she would live. He was relieved because it gave him time.

Enough time.

’It’s not much, but it’ll be enough for me to finish them.’

His thoughts were cold and precise.

"Good enough," Azhriel finally said, his tone calm again. "I have somewhere to go. I’ll be back within an hour or so. Please take care of her until then."

He turned and walked toward the door, pulling on his gloves.

Inside his mind, a soft, childlike voice echoed—Zephyriah’s.

’Papa, you’re leaving again?’ her tone carried a faint sadness.

’I’m sorry, Zeph,’ Azhriel replied gently in his thoughts. ’But this is important. Stay with Caelyn or Eli until I’m back, alright? I’ll take you out later. I promise.’

There was a small pause before her reluctant reply came.

’Okay.’

He smiled faintly at her voice.

Just as he reached for the doorknob, Raymond spoke up from behind.

"Where are you going? It’s pretty late, you know."

Azhriel paused, his hand on the door. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. The room waited for his reply.

Then, without looking back, he opened the door, his voice low and steady.

"Just a simple errand."

The door closed quietly behind him, leaving only silence in the room.

The cool night air brushed against his face as Azhriel stepped out of the hotel. The streets were dimly lit by the gentle glow of mana lamps, their light reflecting off the polished cobblestones.

Despite the late hour, the city of Mosseira still buzzed faintly with life. Vendors packed away their stalls, adventurers wandered in groups, and carriages rolled by the main road.

After a short walk, he found what he was looking for — a carriage stationed by the curb, its driver half-asleep on the bench.

"The Hudson Street," Azhriel said as he climbed in.

The driver blinked awake, nodded, and with a light flick of the reins, the carriage began to move. The wheels creaked softly as they rolled through the quiet streets.

Azhriel leaned back against the wooden wall, his gloves brushing faintly against the cold surface. His expression was calm, but his mind was far from it.

The rhythm of the wheels on stone filled the silence. Tap—tap—tap. Each turn of the wheel matched the beat of his thoughts.

He glanced out the small window, watching the golden lights blur past.

’If I remove Maera from the equation... everything’s going according to plan,’ he thought. His eyes flickered faintly with blue light, calm yet sharp. ’Hope it stays that way. Because if it doesn’t—’

He stopped himself. The thought lingered, unfinished, like a blade left hanging in the air.

’—then the chances of me dying are far too high.’

The carriage continued on, vanishing deeper into the heart of Mosseira’s restless night.

******

"Boss, what do we do now?" Oluk asked, his voice low as they sat in their small rented room.

Kerip didn’t answer right away. His face was cold, eyes fixed on the floor. They had lost the most valuable item—the map—and wasted a fortune on useless junk.

Their boss would not be pleased.

Sweat gathered on their foreheads as the room grew tense. No one wanted to speak, but all of them knew how bad this looked.

Kerip finally broke the silence. "What else?" he said flatly. "We find that guy and the Daughter of Crimson. We kill them and take everything they’ve got."

"..." Oluk and Ensuv nodded silently at Kerip’s words.

But before any of them could say more, the door creaked open. A figure stepped inside—calm, unhurried, each step echoing softly in the quiet room.

He wore black from head to toe, his presence cold enough to make the air feel heavy.

The three men froze as the stranger closed the door behind him.

Click.

The soft sound of the lock echoed louder than thunder in their ears.

"Wow," the man said lightly, his tone almost amused. "You three sure talk big. Good thing I came early, before you idiots could mess things up."

Kerip frowned, unease creeping up his spine. "Who are you?" he demanded. Something about that voice... it felt too familiar.

"Ah," the stranger said with a small sigh, his lips curling into a faint smile. "How heartbreaking. You’ve already forgotten the waiter who served you tonight?"

Kerip’s eyes widened—then his chest tightened.

Ba-dump.

A heavy thud echoed in his ears. All three men clutched their throats at once.

"W-what—"

Before they could finish, black blood poured from their mouths, splattering across the floor as their bodies trembled.