The Game's Extra: Azhriel Odyssey-Chapter 124: To The Brink-3

Back To The Present Time.

"B-but how? We didn’t even drink or eat anything!"

Oluk gasped, his voice breaking as he clutched his chest. A fierce heat surged inside him, spreading like wildfire through his veins.

His pupils widened, his breathing turned ragged, and then—black veins crawled beneath his skin, twisting and pulsing with every heartbeat.

He coughed violently, blood spilling from his mouth, dark and thick.

Beside him, Ensuv was already on the ground, trembling uncontrollably, his fingers clawing at the floor as he tried to breathe.

Kerip’s eyes widened slightly, his gaze snapping toward the door.

A calm voice came from behind them.

"Hm? How, you ask?" Azhriel’s tone was almost amused as he stepped forward, his fingers brushing lightly under his chin as though pondering.

His expression was unbothered, even playful.

"Well..." he tilted his head, a faint smirk forming, "the poison was never in the food or the drink."

Oluk’s eyes darted towards Azhriel, as he looked at him while confusion and pain twisted his face. "W-what...?"

"The incense," Azhriel said simply, his voice calm but cold. "The poison was in the incense."

He took a small step forward, his tone almost casual as he added, "It wasn’t easy to get that — the Dark Lizard’s poison. It tears the body apart from the inside, so it was pretty hard to find in black market. But looking at all of you now... I’d say it was worth it."

Oluk also collapsed, his body twisting in pain just like Ensuv’s. Azhriel’s gaze moved to Kerip, the only one still conscious — on his knees, trembling, but not broken.

"Haha... good. Very good." Kerip chuckled weakly. "To think I’d be brought down like this — by a single human, and in such a way. How humiliating."

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stand.

’As expected,’ Azhriel thought as Frostborn appeared in his hand, shifting into the form of a long, sleek scythe. ’It won’t be enough for someone like him.’ 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

"Human in black," Kerip said, straightening his posture despite the pain. "I am Kerip, Sergeant of the Legion of Uniqueness. Tell me your name, boy."

Dark lightning began to spark across his body, filling the room with a heavy crackle of power. The air thickened.

Azhriel felt it immediately — that weight pressing down on his chest like a mountain. His instincts screamed at him to move, to dodge.

’Even with the poison inside him, he’s this strong?’ Azhriel thought, his heartbeat quickening. ’As I guessed... I’ll have to go all out right from the start.’

He tightened his grip on Frostborn. A faint, dangerous smirk crossed his face. "My first real fight after Master’s training... Heh, how exciting."

Kerip tilted his head. "Won’t you at least tell me your name before you die?"

Azhriel’s answer came in the form of action.

Bang!

A sharp frozen spike shot up from the ground beneath Kerip’s chin.

The demon moved on instinct — lightning flared, and he vanished in a blur, reappearing just out of reach. The spike pierced the ceiling instead, leaving a thin trail of frost behind.

"Impatient one, aren’t you," Kerip said, lowering his stance.

"Instead of talking," Azhriel said coldly, "you should focus on fighting."

Before Kerip could even react, Azhriel was gone. In the next heartbeat, he appeared behind him — switching places with one of the shattered floor shards on the floor.

Kerip’s eyes widened. "Teleportation?"

He turned, but too late — the blade of the scythe was already coming for his neck. His instincts kicked in; his head jerked back just in time, the blade slicing a few strands of his hair.

But Azhriel was already moving again. He spun on his heel, bringing his leg around in a quick, brutal kick that slammed into Kerip’s ribs.

The sound of impact echoed through the room.

Kerip grunted, his body thrown backward like a rag doll.

Bang!

He crashed toward the wall — but instead of slamming into it, he twisted mid-air, planting his feet against the surface with a sharp thud. Cracks spread from the point of impact as lightning flickered around him.

A wide grin spread across Kerip’s face as he looked down at Azhriel. "Haha... not bad, human. Not bad at all."

Kerip kicked off the wall, vanishing in a flash of black lightning. In the next heartbeat, he was already in front of Azhriel, his fist glowing with violent energy.

He’s fast. Azhriel’s mind barely caught up as he swung Frostborn up to meet the strike.

Bang!

The collision shook the entire room. Lightning and frost burst outward in opposite directions, shredding the wooden walls like paper. The air crackled with raw power. The floor beneath them splintered, and mana ripples surged through the structure.

Luckily, Azhriel had planned for this. Before the fight even began, he had rented out the entire inn, ensuring no one else would get caught in the crossfire.

Kerip didn’t stop. His second fist came flying — straight for Azhriel’s head.

Azhriel tilted his head just in time, the blow grazing past his ear. He used the moment to shift his position, flickering out of sight before reappearing above Kerip.

He flicked his wrist sharply — shrrk! — and dozens of razor-like ice shards appeared in the air, raining down like blades.

Kerip didn’t even flinch. He charged right through them, his lightning burning away the frost. Each shard that struck him shattered into mist, the fragments scattering around him like glittering snow.

"Too slow!" he roared, and with a thunderous step, lightning exploded beneath his feet. In a blur of movement, he was suddenly right in front of Azhriel.

’Shit—!’

Azhriel’s eyes widened, but he couldn’t react in time.

Bang!

The punch smashed into his temple. His head snapped sideways violently, and his body was thrown across the room like a ragdoll. The force of the blow shattered the wall as he crashed through it, splintering wood and plaster before slamming into another room.

Before he could even fall properly, Kerip was already on him again — a streak of black light in the air.

Azhriel’s vision spun. His ears rang, his mind went fuzzy. The sheer force behind that single strike was monstrous — far beyond what a poisoned body should’ve been capable of.

Then came the next hit.

Bang!

"Gah—!" The sound tore from Azhriel’s throat as Kerip’s fist crashed into his solar plexus. His breath left him in a sharp gasp, the pain flooding his chest like fire and ice colliding at once. His ribs felt like they’d cracked.

Kerip grinned darkly, already swinging again — his fist aiming straight for Azhriel’s face.

But before it could connect—

Azhriel vanished.

In the blink of an eye, his form dissolved into thin air, replaced by a flickering lantern that dropped to the floor.

He reappeared twenty meters away, kneeling, gasping, his hand clutching Frostborn tightly. His face was bruised, his temple bleeding slightly, but his eyes were still calm — still sharp.

Kerip’s punch, meanwhile, slammed into the ground where Azhriel had stood.

BOOM!

The floor exploded beneath him. Fragments of stone, marble, and wood burst upward like shrapnel. The entire section of the building gave way, collapsing under the sheer force of the impact.

Both of them dropped through the shattered floor, landing hard on the first level. Dust and smoke filled the air, and the faint hum of residual mana lingered like static between them.

Azhriel stood slowly, his breathing steadying. Frostborn gleamed faintly blue in his hand, ice mist curling around the blade. Across from him, Kerip cracked his knuckles, lightning sparking off his skin.

"Still standing?" Kerip asked, his grin wild. "Good. I was worried you’d die too fast."

Azhriel wiped the blood from his lip with his thumb. His expression didn’t change. "You talk too much."

The ground between them froze and sparked at once — frost and lightning clashing as the next round began.