The Game's Extra: Azhriel Odyssey-Chapter 129: Emergency Quest-1

"Got you," Azhriel said, his voice cold and steady as his hand clamped around Kerip's neck.

A deep chill ran down the demon's spine — a primal warning of death.

He didn't need to turn his head to know what was coming. He could feel it. That same terrifying energy, that same freezing power from before.

Frost Explosion.

The air trembled as mana gathered in Azhriel's other hand.

Frost spun violently, forming a swirling sphere of pure, condensed ice and mana. Its glow reflected in Azhriel's azure eyes, sharp and merciless.

[Frost Explosion — An Advanced-ranked spell that compresses raw frost and mana into an unstable, explosive form. The more mana used, the deadlier the result.]

Kerip's body tensed. For the first time since the fight began, real fear flashed through his mind. His instincts screamed at him — death was standing right behind.

He tried to move, to fight back, but his lightning-coated hands slipped on the frozen ground again and again. His body refusing to obey him.

"Goodbye," Azhriel said softly, his voice echoing like a death knell.

Kerip's eyes went wide with madness. "AAAH! I told you— if I die, I'll take you with me!" he roared, lightning bursting wildly from his body.

His demonic energy flared uncontrollably, sparks flying in every direction as his form began to glow with unstable power.

He was turning himself into a living bomb.

Azhriel's eyes narrowed. The pressure in the air was suffocating — enough to level an entire street in seconds. However right now, it wasn't even a bluffed threat.

"And I said…" his voice lowered, calm and final, "goodbye."

[Spatial Awareness: Deactivated]

[Null Phase: Activated]

Fwip

In an instant, the world went silent.

The blinding lightning vanished. The thick, corrosive demonic energy evaporated as if it had never existed. The air itself became still — hollow, empty, null.

Kerip's eyes widened in disbelief. "W-what… what did you just do…?" His voice trembled. He couldn't comprehend it — all his power, gone in a blink, erased without a trace.

But he didn't get another second to think.

Azhriel thrust his frozen hand forward.

BOOOOOOM!

The Frost Explosion went off point-blank against Kerip's head.

The world flashed white. Ice shards and freezing mist burst outward like a raging blizzard. The explosion ripped through the air, shaking the street as frost spread in every direction.

"GRAAAAHHHH!" Kerip's scream tore through the chaos, raw and monstrous — and then it faded, drowned beneath the storm of ice.

When the light dimmed, only silence remained.

The once-arrogant demon lay frozen in place — his body encased in crystal-blue ice, his expression locked in eternal shock and biting agony— while Azhriel sat there, breathing hard, frost still curling from his hands.

Haa… haa…

Azhriel's breathing came out rough and heavy. The rush of battle was fading, replaced by a deep, burning ache spreading through every muscle and nerve.

His vision trembled slightly as he exhaled, trying to steady himself—but the seething pain erupted all at once, clawing through his body like fire as the adrenaline weared off.

"Ghh—damn…" he hissed, gritting his teeth tightly.

His body screamed in protest with every small movement. Without hesitation, he reached into his space ring, pulling out a small crystalline vial filled with a glowing blue liquid.

He popped the cork and chugged it down in one go.

The potion burned cold as it slid down his throat, spreading a soothing warmth through his veins.

Slowly, the sharpest of his wounds began knitting back together, the gashes sealing and bruises fading.

Still, the pain didn't vanish completely—it merely dulled to something less than unbearable. The potion could only do so much at once.

"It'll take… at least three hours," he muttered, flexing his fingers, testing his recovery.

His hands aching when he moved. "Three hours just to heal the damn wounds. Guess I'll have to deal with the pain till then."

He let out a shaky laugh and dropped against Kerip's body beside him, closing his eyes for a second. "Ahh… man, I seriously almost died, this time."

When he finally looked down at himself, the sight wasn't pretty.

His once-dark robe was shredded to ribbons, burnt and torn from the lightning and frost he'd endured. The hood had been completely blown off somewhere during the chaos.

He clicked his tongue. Though that wasn't that much of a problem for now. After all the illusion enchantment was intact.

His identity remained hidden. That much was a relief.

Then, he felt it—a faint pressure in the air, like ripples moving closer.

Presences.

Several of them. Strong and disciplined. His eyes narrowed. The knights. They were fast—faster than he expected.

Without hesitation, he lifted his hand, gathering a wisp of white, swirling null mana. The faint hum of energy spread across the ruined street as the power activated.

[Null Phase– Erase.]

A cold wave pulsed out, erasing every trace of his presence—his mana signature, his trails, even the faint magical residue left from the battle. Within seconds, it was as if no one had been there at all.

When the silence returned, Azhriel glanced at the pile of rubble where Oluk and his men had fallen.

The faint metallic scent of blood lingered in the air. He could see a glimpse of Oluk's arm half-buried under debris, motionless.

"They're done for," he murmured. "Even if the poison didn't kill them… the collapse definitely did."

He let out a quiet sigh and extended his hand once more.

Frost Born—the icy blade that had followed him through the battle returned in his grasp, the runes along its edges glimmering faintly.

A soft mist curled around the weapon, cold and sharp.

He stared at it for a moment, the reflection of his tired eyes dancing across the blade. The battle was over… for now.

Then he turned his wrist slightly. The weapon shimmered and vanished, stored back into his ring.

Azhriel looked toward the dark alleyway beyond the ruined street, where faint footsteps echoed in the distance. The knights were nearly there.

"Time to move," he whispered.

Without another word, he Switched, his figure disappearing like a ghost—leaving behind nothing but blood and silence.