The Game's Extra: Azhriel Odyssey-Chapter 130: Emergency Quest-2.

Meanwhile, in the quiet hotel room, the main cast sat in uneasy silence, the air was thick with tension and uncertainty.

The faint glow of the lanterns illuminated the walls, casting long shadows that danced with the rhythm of the flickering flame.

While, on the bed lay the elven knight, her face pale but peaceful now. Her breathing was steady, the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest the only sign of life that reassured them she was still alive.

No one spoke for a long while. The mood was heavy, filled with a strange mix of confusion and unease. It was Samuel who finally broke the silence.

"So, what do you all think happened to her?" he asked, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his tone casual but laced with curiosity.

His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were sharp—calculating.

"Hm, who knows…" Sydelle sighed, as she leaned forward in her chair.

"It would've been easier to guess if there were any signs of a fight or struggle. But aside from the drug in her system, she's perfectly fine."

"I'm more curious about something else though," Chloe spoke next, resting her chin on her hand, "how could a transcendent-ranked elf be drugged in the first place?"

Kevin, for once, didn't crack a joke. "Well, anyone can be drugged if they let their guard down, right?" he said seriously.

"Yes," Sydelle replied, nodding, "but that's the thing. A transcendent isn't just strong—they're beyond normal limits. Their senses, their instincts, their bodies… it's said they can even resist most poisons naturally. Even if she had her guard down once, she should've noticed something wrong the moment it entered her system."

Arianne agreed, her crimson eyes glinting faintly in the dim light.

"Exactly. Transcendents can feel the flow of mana and toxins in their bloodstream. For her to take that much of the drug without noticing… it doesn't make sense."

"Not to mention the amount," Sydelle added, her brows furrowed. "The concentration in her body is insane—almost as if she consumed it willingly. Like she was desperate… or starving for it."

"Then that means…" Raymond said, his tone calm but edged with suspicion, "she took it herself?"

"Or," Alicia suggested softly, her voice hesitant, "someone forced her to take it."

The room fell silent again. The only sound was the soft ticking of the old wall clock and the rain tapping faintly against the windows.

"Haa…" Samuel finally exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "By the way, what's taking Azhriel so long? He still hasn't come back from that simple errand of his."

Raymond chuckled faintly, though his tone carried a trace of unease.

"I don't know. Honestly, I've given up trying to figure out how that guy's brain works. Even when I was having an anger outbreak earlier, he somehow kept his calm and came up with a plan on the spot."

"Yeah," Chloe said, shaking her head with a faint smile, "we've all been together for almost a month now, and yet it feels like we don't actually know anything about him."

"Except…" Alicia's words trailed off as her gaze turned toward Elizabeth.

The others followed her eyes. Elizabeth sat gracefully on a chair near the window, her posture as elegant as ever.

When she felt their gazes, she turned slightly, her expression calm and composed.

"Yes, it's true," Elizabeth said after a brief pause. "I do know more about Azhriel than the rest of you. But even then…"

Her voice softened, tinged with a rare uncertainty.

"After he came back from his training, something changed. He's still Azhriel, but… there's a side to him that he hides. One that even I can't read anymore."

"A side he hides?" Chloe echoed, her curiosity piqued.

Elizabeth's crimson eyes lingered on the street outside before she replied quietly, "Yes. A side that doesn't belong to the boy I used to know."

Click

The soft sound of the door handle turning and opening froze everyone mid-thought.

The door opened with a faint creak, and Azhriel stepped inside. Of course, he looked as prestine as he was when going outside.

"Oh, speak of the devil," Sydelle muttered under her breath, sitting up straighter.

Azhriel glanced at all of them once, his sharp eyes going on everyone in the room as.

"I'm back," he said quietly, shutting the door behind him.

He moved toward the seat beside Elizabeth—the only one left unoccupied.

His steps were slow and measured, betraying nothing of the exhaustion gnawing at his body. But before he could even reach the chair, a blur of white fur leapt at him.

"Papa!" Zephyriah squeaked joyfully, jumping from Elizabeth's lap straight into his arms.

Azhriel instinctively caught her, the movement smooth despite the ache that flared through his limbs.

Her small arms wrapped around his neck, her tail flicking happily as her blue eyes shone with pure delight.

"Hey there, little furball," he said softly, his tone light despite the fatigue that weighed him down. He ruffled her fur gently, earning a soft giggle from her.

Elizabeth watched the scene with a faint smile tugging at her lips.

The others couldn't help but relax a little at the sight—it was strange how quickly the atmosphere around Azhriel shifted when Zephyriah or Elizabeth was involved.

Azhriel finally sat down beside Elizabeth, Zephyriah curling contently on his lap like a small, purring cat.

He leaned back against the chair, careful to hide any sign of strain. His breathing was steady, his expression calm, but inside his body screamed in protest.

Every nerve throbbed with pain, and the remnants of frost energy still pulsed dully through his veins.

He wanted nothing more than to sleep—to let the fatigue wash over him and shut the world out—but he couldn't.

Not yet.

The situation didn't allow it.

Across the room, the others watched him closely.

They didn't say anything, but their gazes lingered a moment longer than usual.

There was something about him tonight—an unfamiliar sharpness beneath that calm exterior, like a storm quietly raging behind his eyes.

However only Elizabeth was the one who caught something.

Elizabeth's gaze softened slightly. "You look tired," she said quietly, her tone carrying a hint of concern.

"I'm fine," Azhriel replied smiling faintly, his voice even yet gentle.

Zephyriah tilted her head up, her small paws gripping his sleeve. "Papa hurt?" she asked, her voice innocent yet sharp enough to make him pause.

Azhriel smiled faintly and tapped her nose. "No, just sleepy," he said.

"Liar," Zephyriah mumbled, but then yawned and nestled back against him, deciding that if her papa wouldn't rest, she'd rest enough for both of them.

The room quieted again. The others exchanged silent looks but said nothing further. They all knew better than to push when Azhriel didn't want to talk.

For a while, only the faint sound of rustle outside filled the room, mingling with Zephyriah's soft breathing.

And though the silence returned, it wasn't quite the same as before—it was steadier, almost grounding.

Azhriel sat still, eyes half-lidded, his hand gently stroking Zephyriah's hair as he watched the elf knight sleeping peacefully on the bed.

Then he asked, his voice calm but steady, cutting through the quiet hum of the room.

"So, any signs of her waking up?" Azhriel turned his gaze toward Sydelle, who was sitting nearest to the bed.

Sydelle sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "Nope. She's sleeping like a log," she said, glancing at the unconscious elf knight.

Azhriel simply nodded and leaned back in his chair. He didn't speak further.

The room settled into silence again, broken only by the faint ticking of the wall clock and the occasional rustle of Zephyriah's tail as she shifted in his lap.

Minutes trickled by. Then an hour. Then two. The air grew heavier, filled with the quiet anticipation of waiting.

Finally, the faintest twitch rippled through Maera's eyelids.

Elizabeth noticed it first. "She's stirring," she said softly, her tone barely above a whisper.

Everyone's attention immediately turned to the bed.

Maera's eyes fluttered open, blinking against the dim light of the room. For a brief moment, confusion clouded her gaze, and then—instinct took over.

In a blur of motion, she tried to sit up and move, her body reacting faster than her mind could process.

Thud

She fell off the bed almost immediately, collapsing onto the floor with a dull sound.

Her limbs trembled violently as she tried to push herself up again, but no matter how much she struggled, her body wouldn't obey.

"Careful now," Sydelle said quickly, kneeling beside her. "Your body's still under the drug's effect. You won't be able to move properly yet."

Maera's breathing was uneven, her chest heaving as frustration and panic flickered in her emerald eyes. She tried to speak but only managed a faint whisper, her throat too dry to form words. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

"Easy," Sydelle said again, steadying her shoulders. "You're safe now."

Her gaze didn't ease, as her eyes narrowed.

Her eyes darted around the room—taking in the faces watching her, the unfamiliar ceiling, the faint smell of healing herbs.

But then she clutched her head, as a splitting pain like a hangover hit her.

Her mind struggling to piece together what had happened before she lost consciousness.

Then her eyes widened as the first words that came out from her mouth was.

"Prince."