The Game's Extra: Azhriel Odyssey-Chapter 135: The Rescue Mission-3

As the smoke began to clear, three figures slowly came into view. Maera, Karevan, and Ariel stood unharmed, a dome of thick green vines fading away around them as it crumbled into dust.

"Prince, are you alright?" Maera asked, lowering her sword as the last of her spell disappeared.

"I'm fine," Karevan said, his golden eyes narrowing. "But it seems we walked straight into a trap."

Ariel stepped forward, glancing around cautiously. "They were waiting for us, Your Highness."

From the broken ruins of the building, figures began to emerge—men and women cloaked in dark robes marked with skull insignias, their bodies tainted with flickering traces of corrupted spirit energy.

"Yep," Azhriel said, stepping forward with the others. "You definitely did."

The main cast joined them, weapons drawn and mana rising in the air.

"Are you three hurt?" Raymond asked quickly, his healing light already glowing faintly at his fingertips.

Karevan shook his head. "No need, Sir Raymond. We're unharmed."

Samuel spun his daggers with a grin. "Good. Because they look like they're itching for a fight."

Azhriel's tone was calm, almost bored. "Then how about leaving them all to me?"

"What?" Samuel blinked.

Sydelle frowned, lightning sparking faintly around her. "Even if you're strong, there's too many of them. You'll be outnumbered."

Before Azhriel could answer, an arrow of black energy shot through the air straight toward them.

Crash!

Azhriel flicked his wrist, and an ice wall burst upward, covering them just in time as more spells and arrows slammed into it, exploding against the frozen surface.

"Think about it," he said calmly from behind the barrier. "If they left this many minions behind, it means the main ones—the kidnappers—haven't gone far. You should go after them before it's too late."

He turned his head slightly. "I'll handle this."

Arianne frowned, her crimson eyes narrowing. "You're insane if you think—"

But Raymond cut in. "No, he's right. We can't waste time here. I trust that you do what you said."

Azhriel nodded. "Of course."

After a tense moment between them, Sydelle exhaled sharply. "Fine. But don't die."

One by one, they turned to leave, following Karevan's lead as he pointed toward a faint glowing trail. "The prince's mana signature. It's fading, but still traceable. Let's move."

As they all began running, Azhriel caught Elizabeth glancing back one last time, frustration and anger flickering across her face. He didn't understand it—but he didn't have time to think about it either.

The last one to remain was Caelyn.

She stopped at the edge of the street, looking back at him. "Will you really be alright?"

Azhriel smiled faintly. "What do you mean by that?"

"...Nothing," she said softly, then turned and followed the others.

When they were finally gone, Azhriel dropped the ice barrier. The shards shattered around him like glass, the cold mist lingering in the air.

He looked up, meeting the gazes of dozens of enemies closing in from all directions.

His hand brushed over Frostborn's hilt as a cold smile crept across his face.

"Hey, you lot," he said casually. "I'm a little tired, so killing you one by one sounds annoying."

He tilted his head, eyes glowing faintly blue.

"Come at me all at once."

Thus, the carnage of ice and sword began.

******

"Do you think he'll be fine?" Alicia asked suddenly, her voice breaking the silence as they ran through the dark streets, following the faint glowing trail left behind by the prince's mana.

"He will be," Samuel said without hesitation, his tone steady even as his feet pounded against the cobblestone. "You know how he is—he never does anything without a plan."

Alicia frowned slightly. "I guess… but didn't he look a bit exhausted when he came back earlier?"

"You noticed it too, huh?" Nyverra said from behind, her amethyst eyes narrowing.

"Yeah," Raymond added, his voice low. "He tried to hide it, but it was obvious. His aura was weak—like he'd already fought someone strong before this."

The group fell quiet for a moment, the only sound being their synchronized footsteps and the distant hum of mana in the air.

Through it all, Elizabeth stayed silent. She ran just behind Karevan, her azure eyes fixed forward, but her expression was tense—her jaw tight, her brows drawn low.

There was anger there, simmering beneath the surface.

Alicia glanced at her. "Hey, Elizabeth, are you okay?"

Elizabeth didn't answer right away. Her gaze didn't waver from the path ahead.

Finally, she spoke, her tone colder than usual. "Who does he thinks he is, he keeps doing this. Taking everything on by himself."

Raymond looked at her. "He's strong enough to handle it you know, Elizabeth."

"That's not the damn point," she said sharply, then exhaled through her nose. "He doesn't have to handle everything alone atleast he could..."

Her voice trailed into the silence as she didn't finish her words, normally she would have never expressed her emotions like this but right now she was so frustrated she had to vent it out.

The air grew heavy around her words, and no one responded. They all knew she was right—but also that Azhriel wouldn't change.

He was the kind who'd rather bleed in silence than let anyone else see him stumble.

And even as they ran deeper into the coming forest, where the air grew thicker with corrupted energy, that thought lingered with them all.

"Be alert—we've reached them," Karevan said sharply, his voice cutting through the quiet night.

Everyone tensed, weapons raised as their steps slowed.

And then, ahead of them in the clearing, two figures came into view.

The first was a monk, his black robes fluttering in the night breeze, a long rosary of bones hanging from his neck.

The second was the black spirit—its body shifting like smoke, eyes gleaming a deep, poisonous green.

Karevan's eyes widened as they landed on the limp body dangling in the spirit's clawed grasp.

"Veritas…" His voice trembled, the name barely escaping his lips before his rage exploded. "You goddamn bastards!"

The Third Prince hung there, battered and bruised, blood dripping faintly down his neck as he remained unconscious.

"Now, now," the spirit said mockingly, its voice oily and cold. "Don't lose your temper so soon, Your Highness. You wouldn't want to ruin the surprise, would you? Kekekeke…"

Its laughter slithered through the air, but then—midway—it stopped. The spirit tilted its head, as if sensing something.

Its grin faded slightly.

"Hmm?"

The ground trembled faintly.

Then—

Grrrrrrrr. Grrrrrrrr.

The growls came from every direction.

From the shadows of the trees, dozens—no, hundreds—of monsters crept out. Their eyes glowed red in the dark, saliva dripping from jagged teeth.

Wolves with exposed bone, twisted boars with too many legs, and winged beasts whose forms flickered with abyssal corruption.

They surrounded them in a wide circle, cutting off every escape.

Chloe eyes darted around. "There's… there's too many."

The spirit chuckled, amused by their shock.

"Ah, yes. You didn't think we'd take chances, did you? Two Transcendents are quite the troublesome pair to deal with. So, I prepared a little army to keep you busy while we finish our fun."

Karevan's jaw clenched, his mana flaring golden around him. "You think a horde of beasts will save you?"

"Oh no," the spirit said, baring its sharp teeth in a grin. "Not save me—just stall you, while we get out."

The monk beside him lifted his hand, his dull gray eyes reflecting eerie calm as faint chants escaped his lips.

Dark mist coiled around his arm, spreading through the ground like living smoke.

The monsters growled louder, their forms twitching as veins of black corruption spread through their bodies.

They were no longer just beasts—they were puppets.

Samuel clicked his tongue, spinning his daggers. "This is going to be annoying."

Sydelle readied her bow, her eyes glowing faintly white. "There's at least fifty high-ranked ones. We'll have to fight smart."

The main cast moved.

[Read the Authors Note]