Chapter 533 - Extra's Rebirth

EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC29: Humbling A Young Master [III]

Chapter 29: Humbling A Young Master [III]

Aegon was annoyed.

No — more than that — he was infuriated.

He wasn't perfect... no human on Earth was perfect.

Everyone had their own flaws and things they excelled at.

He was a genius with the sword — that much was undeniable — but even so... where did this boy come from?

He was younger than him, maybe by a year or two, but still so infuriating.

How was he able to match his movements so easily, without even using a style?

He was just relying on raw swordsmanship with a bit of aura, yet he was countering him, a Prince who was pushing his aura to the absolute limit.

It was disgraceful.

It was disgraceful to the Royal name!

Aegon's aura flared outward, burning wildly like an untamed flame.

Blood began to drip from his ears and nose, but he didn't care.

He hadn't mastered this next art — he knew the risks — but his father had once said it was the most erratic, the most deadly of the royal techniques.

"Eighth Style!" he roared, his body twisting unnaturally as his aura spiraled out of control.

The energy exploded outward, a storm of crimson aura engulfing Azel completely.

"Royal Realm!"

The air trembled.

It was a domain-type technique, one that forcibly expanded the user's aura into a contained zone — a zone meant to crush and obliterate any opponent within it.

Aegon's knees buckled, his body collapsing onto one knee as the pressure of his own unstable technique bore down on him.

Gasps erupted from the spectators.

Even from outside the battlefield, the sheer pressure of the domain could be felt.

Mira's eyes widened in alarm.

He hasn't mastered it!

This was an incomplete Royal Realm... this is dangerous!

Without hesitation, she darted forward.

The unrefined domain would kill Azel if she didn't intervene.

But then —

A violent blast of wind tore through the arena, scattering Aegon's aura as if it were nothing more than mist.

The crimson haze dissipated like a shattered illusion, revealing Azel standing calmly at its center, his sword raised.

He stood poised in a stance Mira recognized instantly.

"The Second Style..." She whispered.

She had seen Steven use it once or twice but it felt different as he took the stance, from the confidence in his sword and the way he stood, one could tell that he had mastered it to the absolute limit.

Azel's aura surged violently around him, condensing with flawless control.

His voice rang out steady and cold

"Second Style – Reversal."

In that instant, Azel's sword slashed outward, and a wave of pure aura erupted forth — a devastating counterforce that slammed toward Aegon like a tidal wave.

Aegon's eyes widened in horror.

'I'm... going to die.'

He saw it clearly in that moment — his death, the unstoppable surge about to consume him.

His body refused to move.

But before it could strike, a blur of violet intercepted it.

"Enough!" Mira's voice cut through the battlefield like a whip as she swung her blade, coated in the glowing aura of the Violent Serpent.

Her strike cleaved through Azel's wave, dispersing it into harmless sparks of light.

It might look that she had dispersed it effortlessly, but she had to use the full power of her first form to do it.

Silence fell.

"The winner of this match," Mira announced firmly, lowering her sword, "is Azel Thorn."

Cheers erupted from the servants and spectators alike.

Azel lowered his sword and glanced briefly at Aegon, who was pale, shaking, and bleeding.

Then at Mira, whose stance was still tense from the effort of stopping his attack.

Without a word, he sheathed his blade and turned, walking off the field casually — like none of it mattered.

But inside, his thoughts were excited.

'He's strong... if I hadn't used Reversal there, I could have died.'

Though it was obvious that Aegon hadn't mastered it at all, it was still far too early for him to master it.

He exhaled slowly, muttering under his breath.

"Thinking back on it, Reversal really is a cheat code..."

It was an advanced counter-art that allowed him to turn an enemy's own technique against them.

The more complex the attack, the higher the risk of failure, but with strong fundamentals? It was devastating.

Another day to thank Steven for teaching him.

...

The cheers of the servants echoed through the air, but the royal family was silent, stunned by what they had just witnessed.

Naelia was the first to break the silence.

"Azel... won," she whispered in disbelief, her hands clutching the hem of her dress tightly.

Her lips curved into a smile, her eyes glittering with relief. "He actually won!"

She shook Ira who was next to her and was smiling as well.

Beside them, Edna let out a sigh she didn't realize she had been holding.

She placed a hand over her heart, calming its frantic rhythm.

"Thank the heavens," she murmured.

The tension in her shoulders eased, and for the first time since the duel began, a gentle smile crossed her lips.

Anyone who had seen battles before could clearly see that the first prince was going for the kill, while Azel was cautious.

Naelia turned to her mother, her excitement bubbling over. "I knew he'd win, Mother! I just knew it!"

Edna chuckled softly, brushing a strand of her daughter's hair aside.

"Your faith in him is admirable, Naelia. And... it seems it wasn't misplaced."

Across the seating area, Steven grinned proudly.

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with satisfaction.

"That's my boy," he muttered, loud enough for the people near him to hear.

His tone was casual, but his eyes gleamed with unmistakable pride.

But still he was surprised, Azel seemed even faster than before.

'Oh well I'll ask him when we finally get home, this is a suitable vacation,' Steven thought.

Meanwhile, The Emperor remained silent.

His expression was unreadable as he sat upon his ornate chair, fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest.

His gaze followed Azel until he disappeared from view, and only then did his lips curl into a faint smirk.

'Interesting,' he thought. 'Not only does he possess the talent to counter my son's techniques... but he even completely wields a style capable of neutralizing a Royal Realm.'

He leaned back in his chair, his crimson eyes sharp as blades.

A boy of his strength... in time, he could become a powerful asset to the empire.

That much was certain, he didn't care what Azel wanted, he could provide it to him but this boy...

He must become a weapon of the Starbloom Empire.

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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC30: Leaving The Castle

Chapter 30: Leaving The Castle

It was a wonderful morning.

Azel stood in the courtyard of the Imperial Palace, the cool morning air brushing against his face as he tightened the cloak that he wore.

A small sigh escaped his lips, the air was cold as well.

The sun had only just begun to rise, casting long shadows across the polished stone tiles beneath his boots.

The palace loomed behind him, a monument of gold and marble, and yet — despite all its grandeur, it felt strangely quiet.

That was because it was really early, the Emperors and the others were still asleep, well he had said his goodbyes yesterday so it wasn't that much of a problem.

Steven stood beside him, stretching his arms with a yawn as he prepared the griffin for flight.

"Well, kid," he said with his usual easy-going tone, "as nice as this palace was, I'll take our little cottage over this any day. No servants peeking over your shoulder every time you breathe, nobody gossiping like pigeons. Just peace and quiet."

Azel nodded, his lips curling faintly. "Yeah... I missed it too."

He stepped forward toward the griffin, its wings folding as it lowered itself for them to mount.

Just as his foot rose to take the first step, a soft, familiar voice called his name.

"Azel..."

He froze.

Slowly, he turned back toward the palace doors, and there she was — Edna Starbloom.

But she wasn't dressed in her usual regal attire.

No jeweled crown rested atop her head, no layers of ornate silk cloaked her frame.

Instead, she wore simple, casual clothes — an elegant yet plain dress of soft lavender fabric, her hair tied back in a loose braid.

It was the first time Azel had seen her like this, stripped of her title and splendor.

She looked less like the Empress of the Empire and more like... a woman.

A beautiful woman befitting of her title as noble.

Her gaze met his, those deep lilac eyes carrying different emotions, but she took a deep breath, calming herself.

Steven climbed the griffin and began adjusting the saddle so he walked closer to her.

"You're leaving already?" she asked softly.

Azel gave her a warm smile and nodded. "Yes... it's time for me to go."

Her hands tightened around the folds of her dress.

For a moment, she looked as though she wanted to say something else, but instead, she simply offered a faint, melancholic smile.

"You've been... a wonderful guest," she said. "The palace will feel emptier without you."

He chuckled lightly, scratching his cheek.

"I had a lot of fun here," he admitted. "Especially in the library. You're an excellent reading partner, Edna."

She had given him permission to call her by her name, but even now, she hadn't gotten used to it.

Her cheeks warmed at the casual use of her name, and she sighed.

Then she took a step closer, her fingers brushing lightly along the railing.

"I had fun too," she replied quietly. "It's been a long time since I've had someone who truly enjoyed reading with me... who wasn't there out of formality or obligation."

Her voice softened, almost wistful. "You made this palace feel a little less lonely."

Azel's smile wavered slightly.

He could see it now — the loneliness she always carried, hidden behind that regal composure.

A woman bound by duty, trapped in a gilded cage, her every move dictated by politics and expectations.

"I'll come back," Azel said.

His tone was light at first, but then his voice dropped, quiet enough that only she could hear.

"And next time I come back..." He hesitated for only a heartbeat before finishing, "...I'll save you."

Her breath caught in her throat.

She blinked, stunned, and her heart began to race.

Save her?

What did he mean by that?

Did he see through her carefully concealed pain so easily?

She read his lips, and her cheeks flushed a delicate pink.

Her fingers clutched her dress tighter as she lowered her gaze, unable to meet his eyes for a moment.

It had been years — years since anyone had spoken to her like that.

She couldn't even remember the last time.

"Azel..." she whispered, her voice trembling ever so slightly.

He only smiled.

Like he was certain of his words

Something inside her broke then — not in pain, but in quiet relief.

"...Okay," she finally whispered back, her voice fragile as glass.

Azel nodded and gave her a small wave, one last smile before he turned away and climbed onto the griffin's back.

Steven glanced at the Empress and bowed as he settled in beside Azel, his brow quirking slightly at the expression on her face.

But he didn't say anything.

Instead, he clicked his tongue, and with a powerful beat of its wings, the griffin launched into the sky.

The palace grew smaller beneath them, the grand marble towers shrinking with every passing second.

Azel didn't look away though.

His eyes stayed fixed on the ground where Edna stood, her figure growing smaller and smaller as she raised a hand to wave, her lips curved into a bittersweet smile.

She didn't stop waving until the griffin disappeared into the clouds.

...

The wind whipped past them as they soared through the air.

Azel leaned back slightly, staring at the endless blue sky above.

His chest felt strangely tight.

Beside him, Steven grinned knowingly.

"Hah. Looks like you had a pretty good time back there, huh?"

Azel let out a small chuckle. "Yeah... I guess I did."

Steven eyed him for a moment before letting out a hearty laugh.

"Well, don't get too attached to palace life, kid. For the next few years, it's just gonna be you, me, that forest, and the Dragon Saint Style until you've mastered it."

Azel smirked, feeling the familiar fire of determination rise in his chest. "I'm looking forward to it."

Steven grinned wider, slapping him on the back. "That's what I like to hear!"

As they soared further from the capital, Azel looked down one last time.

The gleaming spires of the Imperial Palace were far in the distance now, barely visible beyond the morning mist.

Yet his thoughts lingered on Edna and that fleeting smile, and the quiet, hopeful whisper she had given him in return.

"Next time..." he muttered under his breath. "I'll keep that promise."

And with that, the griffin carried them away, toward Deymoor Town, toward the forest... and toward the years of relentless training that awaited him.

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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC31: Azel's Birthday

Chapter 31: Azel's Birthday

[4 Years Later]

[Happy Birthday Host]

[You have become an Adult]

[Full System Access Granted]

[You will now receive missions more frequently. Rewards will vary depending on mission difficulty.]

Azel groaned softly as he opened his eyes, staring at the faintly glowing blue text floating in front of him.

The familiar System window flickered once before vanishing, leaving him in the silence of his small room in the cottage.

"Great," he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. "Not even awake for five minutes and the System's already bothering me."

Still, he couldn't deny the small rush of excitement running through his veins.

Today, he was officially sixteen.

In this world, that marked the age of adulthood, when you could finally step into society fully as your own person.

And for Azel, that meant freedom.

Freedom to travel, freedom to act... freedom to intervene in the events he knew were coming.

He swung his legs out of bed, stretching until his joints popped.

"First order of business... Starbloom City," he said to himself.

Partly, it was because he wanted to see Edna again.

Four years hadn't dulled his memory of that quiet promise he had made to her.

And partly, it was because of the upcoming scenario: [The Kidnapping of the Royal Family].

In the game's original timeline, this short but brutal arc had shattered the Starbloom royal household.

It was the beginning of Edna's descent into despair, ultimately leading to her suicide.

That, Azel refused to let happen.

He dressed in his travel clothes — a dark-blue tunic reinforced with leather stitching, fitted trousers, and sturdy boots.

The ever-familiar bracelet gleamed faintly on his wrist, now with an additional black sheen after years of gravity training.

He could now use up to 100x Gravity which was the maximum the bracelet could give, it still brought him slight disorientation but it was better than nothing.

He strapped two daggers to his belt, its weight a familiar comfort.

As he stepped into the hallway, a faint, mouthwatering aroma drifted through the air.

His brows rose in surprise.

"...Is that...?"

He followed the smell down to the kitchen and blinked in shock.

Steven, the gruff, battle-hardened Sword Saint stood at the stove, stirring a pot with practiced ease.

His apron read: "Kiss the Cook".

Steven didn't like stepping into the kitchen that much, but he knew how to cook.

Steven glanced over his shoulder and grinned. "Happy Birthday, son."

Azel blinked.

He hadn't called him that often, but when he did... it warmed something deep inside Azel's chest.

Over the past four years, Steven had gone from being just his mentor to something far more: a true father figure.

"Thanks," Azel said with a small smile, rubbing the back of his neck. "Didn't expect to see you up this early, though. And cooking, no less."

Steven chuckled. "What kind of father would I be if I didn't at least make you breakfast on your birthday? Sit. It's almost done."

Azel obeyed, sliding into his usual seat at the table.

Steven ladled out the steaming dish into two bowls, placing one in front of him.

"I even made your favorite," Steven said proudly. "Blazing Fenroot Stew."

Azel's grin widened. The stew was rich and savory, flavored with herbs from the nearby forest and chunks of tender, spiced meat that Steven hunted himself.

They'd eaten it countless times over the years, but today, it felt different — a whole lot special.

Steven also brought out a small cake, topped with light frosting and a few sprinkles of candied nuts.

"You went into town for this?" Azel asked in surprise.

Steven shrugged. "Only the best for you."

They dug in, and for a moment, there was nothing but the quiet clinking of spoons against bowls and the warm comfort of good food.

The cottage had changed over the years — new shelves lined the walls, stacked with books and tools.

A small training dummy stood in the corner, battered and well-used.

Azel had poured years of sweat into this place, and it truly felt like home.

After the meal, Steven leaned back, crossing his arms.

"So," he said, his sharp eyes scanning Azel's travel gear. "From the way you're dressed, I take it you're heading out today?"

Azel nodded, setting down his spoon. "Yeah. It's time. I've stayed here long enough. You've taught me everything I need. Now it's my turn to see the world... to put it into practice."

Steven studied him for a long moment, then smiled faintly.

"You've grown up," he said. "When you first started work in the cottage, you were just a scrawny kid who didn't even know how to hold a sword properly. Now look at you."

He sighed, then reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped box.

Azel blinked. "A present?"

"Of course," Steven said with a chuckle. "You didn't think I'd let you leave empty-handed, did you?"

Azel grinned and took it eagerly, carefully unwrapping the paper.

Inside was a sleek silver ring with faint glowing runes etched along its band.

His eyes widened.

"A storage ring?"

Steven nodded. "Yep. High capacity, too. This one's got enough space to hold everything in this cottage and then some. You'll need it out there — whether it's for supplies, weapons, or loot."

Azel slipped it on, feeling the faint hum of mana beneath his fingers. "This is amazing. Thank you, Steven."

Steven waved it off casually, but his expression softened. "You've earned it."

Then, as if remembering something, he reached into his own storage ring and withdrew a sheathed sword.

"And this," he said, handing it to Azel, "is yours now. You've mastered the Dragon Saint Style. Every form, every stance — you've surpassed even what I thought was possible. That sword's been mine for decades, but now... it belongs to you."

Azel held it reverently.

It was a beautiful weapon: a sleek silver blade with a faint blue tint along its edge, perfectly balanced in his grip.

"Steven..."

"Use it well," Steven said firmly. "And don't hesitate to draw it when you need to. You've trained for this. You're ready."

The words struck Azel deeper than he expected.

Slowly, he set the sword aside and stood, stepping forward.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Steven didn't answer with words. Instead, he pulled Azel into a tight, fatherly hug.

Azel blinked in surprise before returning it, the two of them standing there in silence for a moment that felt like forever.

When they finally pulled apart, Steven clapped him on the shoulder.

"This will always be your home, Azel. No matter where you go, no matter what happens. Come back once in a while, alright?"

Azel nodded firmly. "I will."

Steven grinned. "Now get going, kid. The world won't wait forever."

Azel slung his pack over his shoulder, the new sword and storage ring secure at his side.

As he stepped out the door, he turned back one last time.

Steven stood in the doorway, framed by the morning light, his expression proud and bittersweet.

Azel smiled faintly. "See you soon... Dad."

Steven's grin widened, and he gave a single nod.

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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC32: Carriage Of The West

Chapter 32: Carriage Of The West

Azel stepped into Deymoor town with a measured calmness that was a far cry from the nervous wreck he had been the first time he arrived here years ago.

Back then, he had been little more than a frightened boy, shackled by two slavers, powerless and uncertain of where or even what he was.

Now? Things were different.

Several years of brutal training under Steven had sculpted him into something else entirely.

His silver hair shimmered in the morning sun, flowing down to his shoulders in waves, catching the glances of nearly everyone he passed.

Several shopkeepers nodded at him in recognition, their smiles warm and friendly.

A group of girls whispered amongst themselves near the tailor's shop, their faces reddening when Azel glanced their way.

He offered a polite nod before looking forward again, inwardly amused.

He'd grown used to the attention his sharp features and refined build drew — features he once only dreamed of having back in his old world.

He was now almost as tall as he was in his past life and it was hard to believe he had spent all this time in the game he had loved.

Deymoor was livelier than ever.

Merchants peddled their wares from colorful stalls, the clamor of bargaining voices mixing with the laughter of children weaving through the streets.

The scent of freshly baked bread wafted from the bakery Steven frequented, mingling with the tang of leather from the smithy down the road.

This town had become familiar over the years.

But today wasn't for nostalgia.

Today marked the first step into something bigger.

Azel made his way to the carriage yard near the town's edge.

He had never needed to travel this far before — Steven's cottage was self-sufficient and isolated enough that he rarely ventured beyond Deymoor, even for supplies.

Besides if they wanted to leave, they could always use the griffin but the problem with that was that he had to come back.

But now, with his adulthood recognized and his next goal in sight, Starbloom City awaited.

Dozens of carriages lined the yard, ranging from plain wooden wagons meant for farmers to more decorated coaches clearly meant for wealthier clients.

Drivers barked out destinations to attract passengers, and horses stamped impatiently in their harnesses, snorting clouds of breath into the crisp morning air.

Then Azel saw it.

A sleek, black carriage trimmed with deep orange accents, its panels engraved with the curling silhouette of a dragon.

His breath caught.

The Carriage of the West.

He knew it instantly.

He'd seen it enough times in the game to recognize it at a glance.

"...What is it doing here?" he muttered under his breath.

He didn't know much of what happened to them at this point in the story.

The Dmitri family, hailing from the distant western continent, had only recently moved to this empire by this point in the story.

In the game's timeline, Lorraine Dmitri — one of his favorite sub-heroines would be a second-year student and the poised, brilliant student council president by the time the protagonist entered Astralis Academy.

But here she was... far earlier than expected.

Azel's heart thudded in his chest.

Lorraine.

The sharp-witted, ever-composed girl who'd eventually died tragically while trying to stop demon supporters within the academy, a loss that had stung him deeply even as a player.

And now he had a chance to change that fate. As such with the fate as the other Heroines.

He stepped forward.

"Hello," Azel called out, approaching the carriage.

Almost instantly, a deep, smooth voice answered him.

"Ah, my friend!"

A man emerged from a small building beside the carriage — a waiting lounge of sorts.

He was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark skin that carried the faint bronze tone common among westerners.

His sharp gaze carried a weight Azel immediately recognized: the dangerous kind of protectiveness only fathers possessed.

Beside him walked a young woman around Azel's age. And she was... breathtaking.

Lorraine's presence was commanding without even trying. Her black hair cascaded down her back like silk, contrasting beautifully against her dusky skin.

Her figure was mature, curvaceous in a way that spoke of both natural beauty and the grace of someone raised in nobility.

Her amber eyes met his briefly, cool and unreadable, but Azel didn't miss the faint flicker of curiosity in them.

She was exactly as he remembered from the game... and somehow even more stunning in person.

The man smiled warmly, spreading his arms. "Would you like to use our carriage, young man?"

"Yes," Azel said without hesitation. "I need to get to the capital — Starbloom City. How much will it cost?"

The man nodded approvingly, clearly pleased with his straightforwardness.

"Five hundred Ares," he replied simply.

Azel reached into his bag and pulled out one of the countless pouches Steven had given him a week ago, already counting out coins — then stopped.

Instead, he tossed the entire pouch, heavy with a thousand Ares, toward the man with an easy flick of his wrist.

The man caught it deftly, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm in a rush," Azel explained with a faint, knowing smirk. "Consider the rest a tip for your time."

Internally, he winced.

'Great. Now I look like some spoiled noble brat throwing money around.'

But the man's expression softened, gratitude flickering behind his eyes before he tucked the pouch away.

"Well met, then," the man said, extending a firm hand. "My name is Gerome Dmitri. This," he gestured to the girl beside him, "is my daughter, Lorraine."

Lorraine inclined her head slightly, her expression polite but distant.

"A pleasure," she said smoothly.

Her voice was melodic, steady — carrying that same subtle authority he remembered from the game.

Azel shook Gerome's hand firmly.

"Azel," he introduced himself. "Azel Thorn. I look forward to traveling with you."

Lorraine's gaze flicked toward him, studying him briefly before returning to neutral.

She didn't say anything more, but Azel noticed the way her eyes lingered for half a second on his bracelet before she looked away.

That reminded him, The Ever-Bracelet was a treasure from the west if he remembered correctly.

Gerome grinned. "Well then! Let's be off. The road to Starbloom is long, and the sooner we leave, the sooner we arrive."

He immediately climbed into the driver's place and took hold of the Horse reins, then his daughter climbed beside him, the two sitting down up front.

Azel entered in from behind, there was an open space so he could reach into the front or even talk to them and then the next moment...

The carriage moved.

[Author's Note]

[Edna Starbloom art is now available, go ahead and vote fam.]

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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC33: Lorraine's Background

Chapter 33: Lorraine's Background

The Lorraine from the game was made in a way that there were quite some routes for how things went out, Azel had individually saved and restarted to test out these routes...

And in each of these routes...

Lorraine died.

If she didn't die by the demon worshippers, she would undergo demonization and get killed by the Saintess...

Like all important characters...

Had a backstory, it was a brief backstory after she died, more of a flashback — Azel at the time didn't know why the developers had even bothered to put such a scene when she was already dying, but now he was glad for it.

Lorraine and her father were runaways from the western continent.

It wasn't due to the fact that they had stolen something they weren't supposed to or they had attacked anybody, no, it was simpler than that.

They were merely fugitives.

Lorraine was wanted by her own family, and Dmitri wasn't even their real name.

The west adopted a matriarchal system where women were the patriarchs of the clan, and in the Ardent Crest Clan, Lorraine was meant to be the next successor.

Her mother was dead, and she had been next in line to inherit leadership, but her aunt coveted the position.

Greed always bore blood.

Assassination attempts followed.

Countless times her aunt had sent killers, each more ruthless than the last.

Eventually, Lorraine's father had no choice but to take her and run.

They fled the Aegis Empire itself, clawing their way past border patrols, braving the perilous wilderness between continents, barely surviving the gauntlet of hired blades.

Even in Starbloom, they lived like prey in hiding.

Nobles that were forced to live like commoners to stay afloat.

But just because Lorraine was quiet didn't mean she was weak.

In the game, she had been a powerhouse — a mage whose sheer destructive ability could rival even the main heroines if she had been left to live.

That was why Azel had to make sure she survived this time.

He needed every shred of power possible if he was going to stand against the coming calamities.

The carriage rolled steadily along, the soft rumble of its wheels on the dirt road filling the quiet.

Azel leaned back against the cushioned seat, his sharp silver eyes occasionally flicking to Lorraine, who sat across from him with her arms folded, her gaze distant.

Azel decided to break the silence.

"You don't look like you're from around here," Azel said casually.

It was a simple opener, but it had the intended effect.

Both Lorraine and her father glanced at him sharply, their guard rising instantly.

Azel smiled inwardly. Their reactions were exactly what he expected and carried a hint of killing intent — but if they were going to be running a carriage business like this, they really needed to work on their poker faces.

"I don't plan to tell anyone," Azel added quickly, raising his hands in mock surrender, his tone playful and disarming. "I'm just curious. I want to know what it's like outside the Empire. What's it like in the plsce where you corne from?"

He layered his words with childish enthusiasm, enough that it seemed harmless, even innocent.

Gerome's tense shoulders relaxed first, and he chuckled heartily, pulling on the reins as the horses galloped faster.

"We lived in the West side of the world."

Gerome pleaded with himself but Lorraine didn't look so good.

Lorraine, however, wasn't convinced. She punched her father lightly in the side.

"Why did you tell him that? What if he's one of Aunt's spies?" she whispered sharply.

Gerome laughed again, far too carefree for her liking.

"I already checked, sweetheart. He's clean." He cast Azel an amused glance. "Sharp boy though, I'll give him that."

Lorraine sighed, exasperated, before turning toward the window with a dismissive huff.

"So?" Azel pressed lightly, leaning forward. "What's it like over there?"

Gerome grinned at the question, his deep voice carrying an almost wistful tone.

"The western continent..." he began, "is nothing like Starbloom. Over here, you've got one emperor holding everything together. Over there? It's the Aegis Empire, but don't let the name fool you. It's less an empire and more a nest of vipers. Power's split between the clans, and each clan is like its own little kingdom. And those kingdoms are ruled by women — the matriarchs."

"Women rule everything?" Azel tilted his head, feigning curiosity.

Gerome nodded.

"Aye. Men have their place — fighters, protectors, advisors — but the real power? That lies with the matriarchs. Each clan is bound by blood and strength. And when those women clash..." He gave a low whistle. "It's like watching storms tear mountains apart."

Azel's interest was genuine this time. "What are the people like?"

Gerome chuckled. "Proud. Fierce. If Starbloom is steel forged into order, Aegis is fire barely contained in a hearth. The west breeds warriors and mages who live for strength. Honor matters there, but only if you have the power to enforce it." He paused, his smile fading slightly. "Of course... with that kind of power comes blood. More often than not, it's spilled by your own kin."

Azel's gaze flickered briefly toward Lorraine, whose face was still turned toward the window, but her fingers clenched faintly against her arm at those words.

She was listening.

Gerome continued, his voice softer now, almost reluctant.

"Aegis isn't all bad, though. The landscapes are breathtaking — the Skyfire Peaks, the sapphire lakes that stretch for miles. Magic runs thicker in the air there than anywhere else I've been. But it's not a place for the weak."

"Sounds dangerous," Azel remarked lightly.

Gerome barked out a laugh. "Dangerous? Boy, that's an understatement. Over there, if you're not born strong, you learn quick — or you die quick."

Azel smiled faintly, leaning back in his seat.

Everything Gerome described aligned with what he remembered from the game but then he wanted to learn more, things that weren't in the game...

This was an open world after all.

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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC34: System Mission [I]

Chapter 34: System Mission [I]

They were on the road for several hours.

The rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels over dirt had become almost soothing, blending with the distant hum of the wilds.

During this time, Azel and Gerome had conversed freely with Lorraine pitching in at times, they had become comfortable with him.

The older man was far more talkative than Azel initially expected, and their discussion spanned everything from trade routes to hunting practices in the western continent.

Despite being a player of the game, Azel realized just how limited his knowledge of the world actually was.

The game never truly delved into the politics or culture of the other empires — it had only ever shown enough to create settings for battles and tragedy.

But now, hearing Gerome speak with such vivid detail, Azel realized how shallow his prior understanding had been.

All he'd ever known for certain was the end result: calamities forcing humanity to its knees. Entire cities crumbling, empires collapsing. By the time the game reached its conclusion, there were barely enough humans left to fill one empire.

Monsters prowled the ruins freely, and whatever semblance of rulership had once existed was long gone.

He remembered vividly, Reinhardt — supposedly the main protagonist and humanity's "savior" lacked any form of leadership.

His raw strength had been undeniable, but in the vacuum left by crumbled thrones and broken armies, it was useless.

Even though the game ended with a win, Azel was totally sure that Humanity ended afterwards.

But he was here now.

And he wasn't going to let it happen again.

Learning about the empires was a necessity if he was going to act differently.

According to Gerome, the Aegis Empire — the western continent was a land where livestock thrived in abundance. Despite the political tensions between the empires, trade was surprisingly common.

Starbloom, his current homeland, specialized in mineral wealth. They mined ores and refined metals that were exported for weapons and tools.

In return, Aegis supplied livestock — cattle, poultry, even monster-bred meat.

It was the only place in the world where domesticated livestock like chickens, goats, and fish existed in large numbers thanks to their vast plains and controlled ranching practices.

Then there was the Teron Empire. It was industrial in focus, home to craftspeople and artisans.

They exported rare fabrics, exotic spices, engineered tools, and alchemical concoctions.

But they had a notorious rivalry with Starbloom — old wars, ancient blood debts. Teron was the same empire that had sought Naelia's bloodline for twisted experimentation, cementing them as one of Starbloom's greatest enemies in the game.

Finally, there was the Celestia Empire, nestled at the very center of the world.

Celestia didn't trade, but they welcomed travelers — if one could pass their stringent requirements.

It was an elven kingdom, pristine and untarnished. Humans were tolerated there, but elves still regarded them with thinly veiled disdain.

"It's said the World Tree grows there," Gerome had said reverently. "They say being near it clears your mind, purifies your spirit. Like standing before the gods themselves."

Azel had stiffened at those words.

He remembered the World Tree arc vividly — a pivotal side mission in the game. In that arc, calamity struck once more, endangering the tree and devastating the elves.

He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to focus.

He rested his chin against his hand, deep in thought, anger quietly simmering at the edges of his mind as the bitter memories of the game's story surfaced.

So many wasted lives.

So much loss.

The developers had designed a dead end from the very beginning.

It was annoying.

Suddenly, Gerome's voice broke through his thoughts.

"It's strange," the older man murmured, his tone shifting. His calloused hands tightened around the reins as his eyes scanned the horizon. "We should have run into bandits by now."

Azel blinked.

He knew that part.

Bandits were notorious along this stretch of road — their base was tucked deep in the woods nearby.

Even from his knowledge of the game, this was the most dangerous leg of travel between Deymoor and Starbloom City.

Gerome glanced over his shoulder, brows furrowing.

"We were ambushed the first time we traveled this road," he said lowly. "And other travelers always warn about them. This silence doesn't sit right."

"Father!" Lorraine suddenly shouted, her voice sharp and alert. "It's cloaking magic!"

Azel's head snapped up.

The air shimmered ahead of them, the faintest distortion like heat waves bending light. His sharp eyes narrowed.

Then, in an instant, the illusion shattered.

A brilliant flare lit the path ahead, and multiple searing fireballs materialized out of thin air, hurtling toward the carriage in rapid succession.

Lorraine reacted instantly. Her crimson eyes glowed, shifting into an ethereal shade of azure as her hands whipped through an intricate sigil mid-air.

A radiant blue barrier surged outward, slamming into place just as the fireballs struck.

BOOM!

The force rattled the entire carriage, cracks spider-webbing across the glowing shield.

Lorraine's jaw clenched, sweat beading her brow from the sheer force of the spell she was holding at bay.

A familiar chime rang in Azel's ears.

[Urgent Quest Detected]

[Protect the Sub-Heroine and Her Father]

[Rewards]

[System Shop Feature]

[100 Fate Points]

[5x Fate Tickets]

[Number of Enemies: 20/20]

Azel exhaled slowly, his silver hair fluttering faintly in the stirred air.

He stood. "I'll deal with it."

Gerome twisted around, eyes wide. "What? No — sir, you paid for protection. It's our job to—"

Azel cut him off with a sharp look and a faint smirk. "We're friends, aren't we? I'm not about to sit here while I've got more than enough strength to handle this."

His words left no room for argument.

He stepped down from the carriage, his boots crunching against the dirt.

Lorraine's voice stuttered behind him. "W-Wait! Sir Azel!"

He glanced back over his shoulder.

She was already moving her hands, weaving a quick spell.

"Let me cast a strengthening charm!"

Her palms came together, glowing brilliantly.

A warm wave of mana surged outward, washing over him. Power bloomed in his limbs, he could feel his body growing stronger even without any aura.

Azel flexed his fingers around the hilt of his sword, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Thanks."

He turned back to the road.

The bandits emerged from the treeline on horseback, twenty in all. Their mages lingered in the rear while the front line charged forward, steel flashing.

The ground trembled faintly beneath the oncoming stampede.

"Twenty for three travelers?" Azel muttered, scoffing. "Bit much, isn't it?"

His fingers tightened around his blade.

"Thanks for the birthday gift."

And then —

Azel vanished.

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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC35: System Mission [II]

Chapter 35: System Mission [II]

No, it wasn't that he vanished.

Azel simply moved so fast it looked like he had teleported.

Even Gerome's sharp eyes failed to follow the blur that was Azel.

His figure was a streak of blue aura darting past the trees in the way and into the chaos of the forested road.

Lorraine gasped audibly behind him, her fingers clutching the edge of her dress so tightly her knuckles turned white.

She felt guilty that she had to let the man who hired them fight like this, besides if she couldn't do this... how did she hope to return home to take revenge on her aunt?

Was she always going to remain this weak?

Azel was oblivious to her thoughts as he rushed forth.

For a brief, silent second, everything froze.

Then his aura sense erupted outward like an explosion of invisible pressure.

He could see them — five archers hidden among the trees.

From the subtle pull of their muscles and the faint creak of bowstrings, he knew their arrows were drawn and ready to fire.

Fifteen mounted bandits charged forward from the dirt path, steel flashing in their hands while three mages hung back, spells being prepared from them.

One of the archers loosed an arrow.

It tore through the air, aura laced into the shot, making it whistle like a spear splitting the sky.

Azel raised his hand.

He caught it mid-flight.

The arrow's violent aura flared against his palm but was immediately overwhelmed by his own energy.

With a flick of his wrist, he reversed it, hurling it back toward the tree.

It struck the archer clean in the skull.

His head whipped back violently before his body tumbled lifelessly from the branch, crashing to the ground below with a dull thud.

It all happened in less than a split second, showing how powerful Azel was.

The other archers panicked and fired in rapid succession, a rain of glowing shafts screaming down toward him.

Slow.

Compared to the ruthless training Steven had put him through for situations like this — arrows that cut like bullets, fired at bone-crushing speeds this was child's play.

Azel flowed between them effortlessly, sidestepping where necessary, tilting his head just enough for one arrow to graze past his cheek, and snatching others midair before sending them spinning back.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Each arrow found its mark, and each archer fell from their perch with a lifeless scream, their foreheads being pierced at amazing speed.

[Enemies Defeated: 5 / 20]

The mages behind the charging riders realized something was horribly wrong.

Their hands blurred through incantations, gathering spirals of wind and arcs of flame.

A sharp Windbolt cut toward Azel like a guillotine, slicing the air as it descended.

He merely tilted his body, letting it whistle past him.

It carved into a tree trunk behind him, severing it cleanly in two as it toppled.

Two more spells followed — one fire, one wind, both roaring straight for him.

Two blue shields shimmered into existence, snapping forward just in time to block the spells.

The fiery explosion scattered harmless embers across the road, and Azel turned his head slightly, catching Lorraine's distant figure.

She stood firm on the carriage platform, her arms raised and covered in blue mana.

From where Azel stood, her face was blurry and he doubted she could see his face as well — but Azel smiled at her thankfully regardless of that.

The shields cracked, then shattered, but it didn't matter.

He was already moving.

Azel reached for his blade.

The weight of the sword was comforting in his grip, familiar, like an old friend.

His aura condensed around him, spilling outward and shaking the ground beneath his feet, tiny fissures splitting across the dirt road.

The bandits slowed their charge for a split second, their horses instinctively neighing and faltering from the sheer killing intent rolling over them.

He inhaled deeply.

"Third Style — Dragon Claw."

A single step forward.

His sword swung horizontally, cutting through air, aura roaring forth in a wide emerald arc.

It was like watching nature itself unleash its fury.

The bandits didn't even have time to scream.

The green wave tore across the road, carving through mounts and riders alike.

Horses screamed before they were reduced to mangled flesh, Bandits who were unfortunate enough to let their legs dangle from the sides had their legs severed at the knees in perfect symmetry.

People with shorter horses got cut from the stomach, it was destruction...

Blood sprayed high into the air, raining crimson over the dirt as torsos tumbled limply from their saddles.

Azel didn't flinch though.

His eyes were calm.

His blade returned to its stance fluidly as if this slaughter were nothing more than practice swings.

[Enemies Defeated: 13 / 20]

The remaining seven bandits — two mages and five sword-wielders hesitated, fear beginning to gnaw at them.

It was too late for them.

Azel raised his sword high, his aura flaring violently, shifting from emerald green to deep violet, the air distorting from the raw power surrounding the blade.

"Fourth Style — Dragon's Descent."

He brought it down.

A colossal pillar of violet aura erupted from his sword and split the world open.

The road quaked violently, a deafening roar echoing as the aura wave swept forward.

Everything in its path — trees, earth, men, and beasts alike was obliterated in a flash.

The violet light engulfed the remaining bandits, consuming them utterly before dissipating into an eerie silence.

Ash drifted down like snow where once there had been twenty armed killers.

Azel exhaled, lowering his blade and resting it against his shoulder.

His breathing was steady, not even winded.

The only thing that remained of them was their blood that doused the Earth.

[Urgent Quest Completed]

[Protect the Sub-Heroine and Her Father]

[Rewards]

[System Shop Feature Unlocked]

[100 Fate Points Acquired]

[5x Fate Tickets Acquired]

Azel blinked as translucent screens floated into his vision.

[Congratulations. You have unlocked the System Store.]

[By Using Fate Points, you can now purchase skills, items, and accessories tailored to your needs.]

[New Features Unlocked:]

[Sort Function: Categorize and filter store contents instantly.]

[Spin Function: Spend Fate Tickets by spinning the wheel for randomized high-value rewards.]

He raised a brow. "Finally."

Lorraine's voice broke his concentration. "S-Sir Azel!"

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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC36: Ghost Town

Chapter 36: Ghost Town

Lorraine had always wondered... what exactly was power?

From a young age, she had been drilled endlessly by her mother and several tutors on the arts of magic.

They had called her a genius.

She still remembered standing in those cold marble halls, reciting incantations while a circle of robed elders nodded approvingly, whispering amongst themselves about her future potential as a mage that could even reach the 8 circle.

A mage was someone who could draw upon the mana that naturally permeated the air, refining it into spells.

To most, it was mystical.

To Lorraine, it had been as natural as breathing.

The principle was simple: more mana meant a stronger spell.

Even the most basic of attack spells could be amplified into something devastating if enough mana was poured into it.

But that came with its own price.

If one's control slipped, if you fed too much mana into a spell whose framework couldn't handle it, it wouldn't merely fizzle out — it would implode violently, tearing through the caster's body from within.

This was why magic was feared, even among those who practiced it.

There were formal ranks among mages, based not on prestige but on how many circles they had successfully formed.

Every mage began with their first circle: a condensed loop of pure mana forged around their heart.

It was a foundational barrier that stabilized their power, allowing them to wield spells safely without burning out their life force.

Lorraine had formed her first circle in less than a day — a feat unheard of, even in her clan.

She had mastered elemental attack spells, defense barriers, even support magic like reinforcement and healing.

And yet...

As she stood now, watching Azel casually seat himself on a broken patch of grass surrounded by the carnage he had wrought, she felt it deep in her chest:

'Compared to him... am I even talented at all?'

The boy wasn't a mage.

He didn't channel mana.

He didn't speak incantations or weave sigils in the air.

He simply moved effortlessly, with a blade in hand and crushed his enemies as if it was second nature.

Azel stretched, yawning audibly.

"I'm tired," he whined, lounging back on the grassy patch as though he hadn't just turned twenty armed men into ash.

Lorraine bit her lip, holding back the sharp retort bubbling in her throat.

She wanted — desperately wanted to berate him, to kick him square in the back and tell him not to speak so casually after a display like that.

But she couldn't.

Instead, her mother's words rang in her head: "If you find a man strong enough to make you feel safe, court him. Strength is the foundation of stability."

Her father wasn't strong, but her mother had loved him regardless.

She had only wanted her daughter to marry someone who could shield her from the dangerous world they lived in.

At least that's what her mother told her and she was conflicted on whether to take this advice...

Azel stood suddenly, dusting himself off.

His gaze passed over her before he extended his hand down to her, casual and unbothered.

"Let's get back to the carriage," he said, tone light but commanding all the same.

Then he smirked faintly. "Unless you'd rather wait here for the next group of bandits."

Lorraine hesitated, staring at his outstretched hand.

'Why does he say that like it's nothing?'

Her pride screamed at her not to take it.

But against her will, her fingers slid into his palm, his grip firm and steady as he helped her to her feet.

...

The carriage was silent at first.

Gerome drove at a brisk pace, glancing warily around the treeline for more threats.

Lorraine sat across from Azel now in the carriage , her gaze flickering toward him more times than she could count.

He sat relaxed, eyes closed, one arm resting lazily against the window as if he hadn't just split the earth with his sword.

Her voice finally broke the silence. "Sir Azel... you learned those sword techniques from someone, didn't you?"

He cracked an eye open, meeting her curious gaze.

"My master," Azel replied simply.

Lorraine's posture straightened. "Your master? Then... is he someone I could meet?"

Azel's lips quirked slightly.

He remembered, faintly, from the game: Lorraine had always been obsessed with finding strong mentors, anyone who could give her the strength she craved to one day take back what was stolen from her.

"He's... difficult," Azel said vaguely, smirking to himself as Steven's lazy face flashed in his mind. "But yes, he's powerful. The kind of powerful that makes even Kings nervous."

Her crimson eyes gleamed faintly.

"Someday," she murmured under her breath, more to herself than him.

Just as Azel was about to respond, the carriage jolted violently to a stop.

"Whoa!" Gerome pulled hard on the reins.

"We're here. This is supposed to be Crowhollow Town..." His voice trailed, confusion settling in.

Azel leaned slightly forward, peering through the front window.

Crowhollow was a small but bustling trading hub that sat between Deymoor and Starbloom City.

At this hour, it should've been alive with noise — vendors calling out their wares, carriages lining the streets, mercenaries loitering near taverns.

Instead, silence greeted them.

The gates were open, creaking faintly in the wind, and the streets beyond were... empty.

They were seriously abandoned..

The horses hesitated to move forward, pawing nervously at the dirt.

"This is wrong," Gerome muttered, frowning deeply. "Even at night, Crowhollow's never this quiet..."

Lorraine's grip tightened on her dress.

"Why does this feel like..." Her voice trembled slightly. "...a ghost town?"

The carriage rolled forward cautiously, wheels rattling over cobblestone.

The air felt heavier here, oppressive.

Azel's sharp senses immediately picked up on it.

Eyes.

Hidden eyes, peering at them from shadowed windows and cracked doorways.

Whispers barely audible over the wind. Curtains shifted slightly, then snapped shut.

A cold chill ran down his spine.

And then —

[New System Quest Issued.]

The text flared in front of Azel's vision.

[Quest: Slay Monsters (1)]

[Objective: Slay [0/1] Shadow Wraiths]

[Reward: ???]

Before he could react, the world abruptly shifted.

Colors drained away like spilled ink in water.

The greens of the trees, the blues of the sky, the warm browns of the buildings — all gone, replaced by stark shades of black and white.

Despite it being Monochrome... he had to admit... it looked beautiful.

"Get down!" Azel suddenly shouted, increasing the gravity for the father and daughter as they were pressed into the ground face first.

In the next instant, A shaking blur appeared in front of Azel, it's form was flickering but it looked angry.

"So this is what a Wraith looks like?"

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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC37: Shadow Wraith

Chapter 37: Shadow Wraith

In this world, monsters were classified by their danger levels.

Their ranks ranged from 5 to 1, with Rank 5 being the lowest — though "low" was relative.

A single Rank 5 monster could be extremely dangerous to an untrained civilian.

A horde of Rank 5 goblins, moving with feral coordination, could even overwhelm and slaughter veteran fighters.

Rank 4 monsters required more than mere skill to handle; they needed precise tactics, specialized weapons, or in some cases, outright magic.

And Rank 1? Those were calamities in flesh — beasts and horrors that required armies, heroes, or both to even wound.

They were monsters that were suspected to be as powerful as gods and there were quite a few of them in this world.

The Shadow Wraith standing before Azel was Rank 4.

That alone was bad enough.

Worse, it was a ghost-type.

Shadow Wraiths were insidious monsters: specter-like entities with thin, humanoid forms that seemed to melt into the air.

Long, ethereal tentacles sprouted from their backs like monstrous limbs, writhing and lashing with mindless hunger.

To look directly into their sunken eyes was to risk slipping into an illusion so real it could kill you.

And when they shed their false, humanoid guise, they became something far worse: twisted monstrosities with distended jaws full of jagged, knife-like teeth, eager to swallow prey whole.

Azel's grip on his sword tightened as he relieved the gravity pressure on Lorraine and Gerome.

"Stay down!" His voice cut sharp through the rising tension, and he didn't wait for a reply.

His aura erupted, radiant and oppressive, shaking the ground beneath their feet as he launched himself forward and out of the carriage.

The Shadow Wraith vanished from sight in an instant.

And then —

The world exploded in motion.

From every side, ghostly tentacles lashed toward him, their speed unnatural, their forms intangible yet deadly.

At the same time, from the warped corners of the colorless town, smaller wraiths slithered forth — mindless apparitions drawn to their master's call.

Azel's aura sense flared, detecting them all.

Regular wraiths were Rank 5 monsters, barely threatening individually.

But in numbers? They could suffocate you.

He flipped backward, narrowly dodging a lunge of spectral claws that would have gutted a lesser fighter.

The smaller wraiths swarmed, clawing the ground as they converged.

"Did the system not register them as worthy opponents?" Azel muttered under his breath.

He landed lightly, sword already raised, and smirked.

Fine.

If the System didn't count them, he'd clear them anyway.

Green light burst along his blade, shining brilliantly even against the black-and-white world.

"Third Style — Dragon Claw!"

He slashed diagonally twice.

Two sweeping arcs of condensed aura ripped outward, cutting through the mob of wraiths like paper.

The glowing energy swept across them in a violent cascade, and in the next moment, their spectral forms were shredded apart, their bodies dissipating into wisps of fading smoke.

They couldn't even manage to scream...

What followed was utter silence.

But Azel didn't pause to admire his work.

A shadow moved.

Instinct screamed — he pivoted sharply, raising his blade just in time to catch a massive fist of coalesced darkness crashing down on him.

The impact rang out like metal striking metal, his boots grinding deep furrows in the ground as he was forced back.

The Shadow Wraith loomed above, its humanoid form unraveling grotesquely before his eyes.

Its face split open like rotting cloth, its skull enlarging and tearing downward until its head stretched into a monstrous, vertical maw.

Jagged teeth sprouted in wild rows — knives upon knives within its gaping throat — and its tongue slithered forth like a serpent, dripping with foul, steaming saliva that sizzled as it hit the monochrome ground.

Lorraine gagged audibly from behind.

Even Gerome muttered something like a prayer.

Azel sighed.

"I really do have main character bad luck," he muttered flatly.

Why else would such a monster appear in such a town? Where he had just arrived? At the time he wanted to rest?

The Wraith hissed, its voice a distorted shriek as its tongue lashed toward him like a whip.

Azel sidestepped, sword flashing, and with a single flick, he severed it cleanly.

The tongue writhed as it fell, splattering acidic saliva onto the ground — where it hissed and burned through the cobblestone like boiling acid on ice.

As expected, Azel thought grimly. The game had been accurate about that much.

He exhaled slowly, aura flaring brighter, green deepening into a sharp, luminous blue.

This needed to end fast.

The longer this thing lingered, the more dangerous it would become.

He stepped forward.

"First Style..."

His form blurred, speed spiking so sharply that to any onlooker, it seemed as though he had simply vanished.

The world slowed, each frame stretching into eternity as Azel's perspective sharpened.

He could see every droplet of acid hanging in the air, every twitch of the Wraith's monstrous claws as it sluggishly tried to react.

He moved.

Dozens of slashes in less than a breath, each lined with sharp, shimmering aura.

His blade sang through the spectral flesh, ripping it apart piece by piece.

He slashed it at least a hundred times in that split second.

He slid to a stop behind it a moment later, placing the sword in it's sheath as he watched the body of the monster twitch.

"Star Strike."

It came apart instantly.

The monster split into countless slices, its body fragmenting in an explosion of blue ichor and fading darkness.

Pieces rained down lifelessly, dissolving into mist before they hit the ground.

The oppressive weight over the town lifted almost immediately, like a suffocating blanket being pulled away.

Color bled slowly back into the world, grass greening, sky paling back into faint blue.

Azel exhaled deeply, rolling his shoulders as he eyed the dissipating remains.

Why was misfortune following him around? At this point... he wouldn't even be surprised if a Rank 3 monster popped up the following day.

The System chimed.

[Quest: Slay Monsters (I)]

[Objective: Slay [1/1] Shadow Wraiths]

[Quest has been completed... Generating Reward...]

[You have received 500 Fate Points]

[You have received 50 Reputation Points]

[You have received Rank 4 Magic Crystal]

[You have received 10 Fate Tickets]

[You have received Ghost Ore]

[Hidden Quest: Slaughter Master (I)]

[Objective: Slay (65 / 50) Ghost Type Monsters]

[Hidden Quest has been completed... Generating Reward...]

[You have received a Summon]

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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC38: Summon

Chapter 38: Summon

Azel now sat in his room at the inn, his back against the wooden headboard of a surprisingly comfortable bed.

It wasn't as comfortable as the one from the royal palace years ago, that was probably the maximum of comfort but it was better than his bed back at home.

The events of earlier still played in his mind. He really had a lot of bad luck, all he had wanted to do was to stop at the town for the night and then continue to Starbloom tomorrow.

Hours had passed since then.

The mayor had thanked them personally, showering them with praise and promises of rewards: a cash bonus, discounts in shops, and free services within the town.

Lorraine had looked shocked, Gerome relieved, and Azel? He just wanted a room where he could finally breathe.

Crowhollow Town didn't even have an Adventurer's Guild despite being large enough to warrant one.

He didn't understand what the mayor was doing with their funds, but it wasn't his problem. It was a good town, they ought to have a GUILD here, as long as there were willing people to become Adventurers, they could defend the town far better than any gate guards could.

What he couldn't ignore were the desecrated corpses littering the streets earlier.

Unfortunate Adventurers who had tried to engage the Shadow Wraith without proper strength or preparation... they'd been devoured until only scattered bones and bloody scraps of flesh remained.

Azel had felt his stomach lurch at the sight. He had killed before, yes — but this was different.

Monsters didn't kill cleanly.

They treated humans like food, like toys to be broken apart.

That was the nature of this world, one he was still adjusting to.

And it reminded him of a fundamental truth:

You could never feel empathy for a monster.

If you did even once, you were at the risk of being consumed.

After all, Fall Of Ares wasn't like all these run off the mill academy games, it was dark effortlessly... The goblins here were easily as bad as the ones in goblin slayer.

He pushed those thoughts aside, shaking his head.

The sooner he got stronger, the fewer times he'd have to see that kind of carnage.

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, he pulled up the glowing System interface.

"Alright," Azel muttered, his voice low in the quiet room. "Let's see what I got."

The first window materialized in front of him.

[Item: Magic Crystal]

[Rank: 4]

[Description:]

[A condensed fragment of mana — born from the dying heart of a monster. It hums softly in your hand, almost alive, like a faint echo of the creature it once was. When consumed, its warmth spreads through the body, seeping into your veins, mending flesh, hardening bone, and filling you with a surge of vitality and raw magical energy, as though a piece of that creature's strength now beats within your own heart.]

Azel stared at it thoughtfully.

He wasn't a mage, not yet, so this wasn't for him.

But Lorraine... yes.

He'd seen her talent firsthand in real life.

In the game, her wasted potential had haunted him more than he realized.

If she had someone to guide her, someone who believed in her enough to help her grow, maybe her fate wouldn't have ended in tragedy.

"This one's yours, Lorraine," Azel murmured.

He stored it back into his inventory. Then his eyes slid to the next item.

[Item: Ghost Ore]

[Rank: 3]

[Description:]

[An ore kissed by phantoms, its surface cold as a grave and pale as bone. Within it, spectral energy thrums restlessly, yearning to break free. Forged into a weapon, it can slip between worlds — solid to spectral striking down even that which dwells untouchable in shadow.]

A grin tugged at Azel's lips. "Ghost Ore? Perfect."

In the game, Ghost Ore had been a rare mid-tier resource, practically essential for clearing early spectral-based quests.

A ghost-imbued weapon was a shortcut to dealing with incorporeal enemies — and having it this early? It was a gift.

He stored it away for later.

Now came the part he'd been looking forward to.

"Fate Tickets..." Azel smirked. "But first..."

His eyes landed on the final reward.

[Item: Summoning Card]

[Rank: ???]

[Description:]

[A fragment of destiny woven into form. Within it sleeps a soul bound by oath and covenant, waiting for the one who dares call it forth.]

Azel blinked. "...A summon, huh?"

Summons were rare even in the game, obtainable only in obscure hidden quests or by completing insane challenges.

He had never unlocked one in his playthrough, though he'd heard stories from other players on the forum, summons that could rival heroines in power, acting like allies — or in some cases, companions with their own growth systems.

It was a similar process to summoning heroes in some online games.

"Well," Azel said, holding the glowing orange card. "Let's see what this is about."

[Would you like to use 'Summoning Card'?]

"Yes."

The card floated out of his palm, hovering before him.

Lines of white energy traced over its surface, forming intricate runes as the room dimmed.

Then it shone.

A light burst forth so bright Azel had to shield his eyes.

The glow engulfed the room completely, swallowing every shadow until it felt like the world had been reduced to pure radiance.

When it finally dimmed, Azel lowered his arm and blinked.

A girl stood in front of him.

She looked no older than six, with hair like soft pink silk cascading to her waist.

Her dress was black, trimmed with white lace, simple but elegant, like something out of a gothic fairy tale.

Her bright violet eyes met his as she tilted her head slightly.

Then she smiled sweetly.

"Papa?" Her voice was soft, melodic, like a gentle chime.

Azel froze.

"...What?" he said flatly.

The girl stepped closer, clasping her hands in front of her dress, her gaze unwavering.

"Papa," she repeated, voice filled with childlike certainty, as if she were stating a truth as clear as the sky.

Azel stared at her, utterly dumbfounded.

'What the fuck?'

The System pinged.

[Congratulations! You have successfully summoned 'Lillia', Descendant Of The Witch Queen]

[Bond Level: 0]

[Type: Attack/Support]

[Special Trait: Soul Connection]

[Lillia recognizes you as her parent.]

Azel's eye twitched.

"Witch Queen?"

He was sure he had seen something like that before but his memory bugged him, he couldn't exactly wrap his head around it.

The pink-haired girl — Lillia beamed at him, stepping forward and hugging his waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Papa," she murmured happily, as if declaring ownership over him.

Azel stared down at her, frozen in place.

"Oh, this is going to be a headache," he muttered.

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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC39: My Daughter Is Overpowered

Chapter 39: My Daughter Is Overpowered

Azel carried Lilia up, placing her carefully on his lap.

She was small — far smaller than her voice and magical presence suggested.

Her soft pink hair brushed against his chin as she shifted, and her fingers curiously twirled through his long silver hair.

"Papa, your hair is long," she said, tugging lightly at a strand with childish fascination.

Azel chuckled quietly. Her voice was sweet, musical, like a windchime in spring.

He reached up and patted her head, his palm sinking into the silky softness of her hair.

She giggled at his touch, her legs kicking playfully against his knee.

'Can I get some information about summoning?' Azel asked inwardly, leaning against the wall as his new "daughter" wriggled comfortably in his arms.

He hadn't really expected a response — it was the first time he'd posed a direct question to the System but then...

[A summoning card is a bridge between worlds, a thread spun from possibility. It can call forth beings from other realms crafted by the same creators of this one. Beasts, warriors, sorcerers — what appears depends on the fickle tides of chance, and your fortune when the card is drawn.]

Azel blinked at the poetic delivery, momentarily impressed.

"I see..." he murmured absentmindedly.

His fingers idly combed through Lilia's pink hair as he mulled over how he was supposed to explain this to Gerome and Lorraine.

How exactly did he tell them that a glowing card from another world had given him a daughter?

Who would believe him?

Not even the maddest man on the Streets of Starbloom would believe him.

His thoughts were interrupted by Lilia's sudden cheer.

"Papa! Look!"

She was perched sideways on his lap now, one hand extended forward.

Azel felt it before he saw it — mana.

Dense, swirling, raw mana that gathered like a small storm in her palm.

His eyes widened as an intense blue flame flickered into existence, brighter and deeper than any spell he'd seen before.

She clearly had a talent for mana.

"Hehe, good girl," Azel murmured, ruffling her hair proudly.

Her delighted giggle rang out like a bell, and as soon as he praised her, the flame dispersed in a shimmer of blue motes.

"System," Azel said quietly, "give me her stats."

[Status Screen]

[Name: Lilia Winters (Registered As Your Daughter)]

[Age: 7]

[Title:]

[Witch's Descendant]

[The Witch, a magus feared even by gods, bent the world to her whim in the game Fall Into Depravity. Any descendant bearing this title inherits her unmatched affinity for magic, a spark of her impossible will.]

[Chosen By Mana]

[Mana sings to her, wild and reverent. It coils eagerly at her fingertips, awaiting her command, for even the elements recognize her as kin.]

[Daddy's Girl]

[She adores her Papa with all her heart and would tear heaven and earth apart for his praise.]

[Class: None]

[Bloodline: Everhart]

[Bloodline Skills]

[Mana Chains]

[Chains forged of pure mana, unyielding and absolute, able to bind flesh, spirit, and shadow alike so long as her will remains unbroken.]

[Mana Burst]

[Condenses mana until it burns white-hot, a flame so pure it can melt steel and sear even enchanted barriers.]

[Blink]

[A ripple in space, allowing her to vanish and reappear within 5 meters in an instant.]

[???]

[???]

[More bloodline skills can be unlocked upon selecting a class.]

[Strength: 25 (D)]

[Speed: 30 (D)]

[Endurance: 20 (D)]

[Magic: 20,000 (A){

[Passive Abilities: Mana Sense, High Regeneration]

[Skills]

[Hour of the Genius (Level 1)]

→ [0 Exp]

[A genius is a storm, sudden and undeniable. In a single breath, they see the world not as it is, but as it could be — and in that moment, fate bends.]

[Allows the user to momentarily slow their perception of time, harnessing all mana in a 5-meter radius and weaving it into any spell or creation they can envision.]

[Cooldown: 3 Hours (Reduced by Bloodline).]

Azel stared blankly at the screen for several seconds.

Then he muttered, "Woah... my daughter is overpowered."

He wasn't exaggerating either.

Compared to the stats he'd had upon arrival in this world, Lilia was a monster.

If he'd possessed even half that raw power back then, he could have flattened those slavers without breaking a sweat.

He eyed her, this small, cheerful child still seated happily in his lap, humming softly to herself.

"Seven years old and already has stats better than most nobles," Azel muttered. "I swear, this world keeps getting crazier."

His thoughts drifted. He remembered hearing about Fall Into Depravity.

He hadn't played it himself, but the fandom had been obsessed with it.

His gamer friends used to gush about it endlessly, about its infamously dark storylines and incredible magic system.

Honestly, if he hadn't played Fall of Ares first, he might've gone for Depravity... though knowing his luck, that game probably ended in another tragic bloodbath too.

A knock snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Sir Azel?" Lorraine's voice drifted from outside his room. "I've cooked dinner and brought some for you."

Azel smiled faintly. Her voice was warmer than before — still formal, but not as hollow.

She was beginning to trust him.

"Feel free to come in," Azel called.

The door creaked open, and Lorraine stepped in gracefully, balancing a tray of food.

Azel blinked — she'd changed into a black dress that hugged her figure elegantly.

It wasn't flashy, but on her, it was... distracting.

Lorraine's smile lit up as she entered, but then it froze mid-step when her gaze fell on Lilia.

"Who is she?"

"My daughter," Azel replied without missing a beat.

Lilia puffed up proudly on his lap. "Yes! I'm Papa's big girl!" she declared with innocent confidence.

Then, tilting her head at Lorraine, she asked curiously, "Are you my mama?"

Lorraine's face turned scarlet so fast Azel almost laughed.

She fumbled with the tray, barely managing to set it down before she could drop it.

Lorraine had seen strange things back in the Aegis Empire — spirits, familiars, even living enchantments bound to magus.

But this? This girl radiated magic so dense and overwhelming that it made Lorraine's knees weak.

The raw power rolling off her was intense.

And yet, she was just a sweet little child calling Azel "Papa."

Lorraine bowed respectfully, not just to Azel but to the girl as well.

"Forgive me," she said softly, lowering her gaze.

"Wait," Azel called as she turned to leave.

She paused, glancing back curiously.

He reached into his pocket and retrieved the Rank 4 Magic Crystal of the Shadow Wraith, holding it out to her.

"Yes, sir?" she asked hesitantly.

Azel smirked faintly. "First of all, you don't have to call me sir. We're the same age. Second..."

He placed the glowing crystal into her hands. "Consider this a gift. Take it — it'll help you grow stronger."

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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC40: Gacha Wheel

Chapter 40: Gacha Wheel

"It's the core from the Shadow Wraith," Azel said evenly, placing the shimmering fragment on the table. Its faint glow illuminated the room in soft hues of pale blue, like moonlight frozen in crystal form. "It was a Rank 4 monster, so you can use it to grow stronger."

Lorraine's eyes widened, her breath hitching slightly.

The mere mention of a Rank 4 monster was enough to stir any mage's ambitions — it was no small feat to slay such a creature, much less offer its core so freely.

Her hands trembled slightly, and her beautiful face twisted with unease.

"Why..." she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why are you being so nice?"

Azel raised an eyebrow but didn't speak.

He simply watched her as she wrestled with her words.

It would be a waste to talk to her right now.

"To me and my father," she continued, her tone quivering, "you've done so much already. Is there... is there something you want?"

Silence lingered between them, broken only by Lilia's faint humming as she played absentmindedly with Azel's sleeve.

Lorraine, emboldened by his lack of response, pressed forward.

"You gave us extra money. You helped us when it was our job to protect you. You saved the town, booked this inn, and even now you hand me something priceless. I'm grateful — gods know I am but what do you want from us?"

Her voice cracked slightly at the end.

It wasn't anger, but fear — fear of debts she couldn't repay.

"If it's me..." she swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "I don't sell my body. And if it's servants you want, we don't need masters. My father and I... we're fine."

Azel tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable.

"I even got an invitation to enter Astralis Academy," she added quickly, her voice turning desperate. "We don't need charity!"

She bit her lip the moment she finished, her heart pounding.

She knew she was speaking out of turn, breaking the careful distance she'd been keeping with him since their first meeting.

But she couldn't help it — his kindness scared her more than cruelty ever could.

The last people who had shown her kindness were now after her life because they didn't want her to become Clan Head...

Azel finally sighed. He didn't answer her barrage of questions, nor did he offer her reassurances.

Instead, he placed the crystal gently atop the table, its soft glow casting faint shadows across the room.

"Take it if you want," he said simply. "Leave it if you don't."

And with that, he turned away, his voice calm but she could feel the finality in his words.

Lorraine blinked.

She hadn't expected that.

"Papa," Lilia's small voice piped up suddenly, breaking the tension.

Azel's attention softened as he looked down at her. "Food?"

"Right." He smiled faintly. "Bring the tray over, Lilia."

"Yes, Papa!" she chirped and hopped off his lap, her bare feet padding lightly against the floor.

She ran to the table, grasped the tray with surprising care for her size, and carried it over to him with both hands.

"Good girl," Azel murmured as he patted her head, earning a delighted giggle.

He took the tray, settling it on his lap, and glanced at Lorraine briefly.

She stood frozen, her fists clenched at her sides, staring at him as though torn between gratitude and indignation.

His lack of response felt like a dismissal, and in her chest, something twisted.

Did she... offend him?

Did she push too far?

She wanted to apologize, but pride and confusion sealed her lips.

Instead, she stepped forward, quietly picked up the glowing core from the dresser, whispered a soft "...thank you," and turned toward the door.

It closed gently behind her with a muted click.

Azel leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply.

"Complicated girl," he muttered.

Lorraine's stubbornness was exactly as he remembered from the game.

She hated taking help, hated feeling indebted, but if it was something vital for her growth, she wouldn't reject it outright.

She was proud, but pragmatic.

He turned his attention back to Lilia and the tray of food.

"Alright," he said lightly, pulling her onto his lap again.

The smell hit him immediately — fragrant rice paired with a rich, savory stew filled with chunks of tender meat. Lorraine's cooking, despite her aloof nature, was stellar.

He scooped a spoonful of rice, dipped it into the stew, and held it up to Lilia. "Say 'Aah,'" he coaxed.

"Aah!" she opened her mouth wide, her small voice full of excitement.

Azel fed her carefully, watching her chew with exaggerated care. When she finally swallowed, her eyes sparkled.

"Yummy!" she declared with infectious delight, her little hands clapping. "Again, Papa!"

He smiled faintly and continued feeding her. Spoon by spoon, she ate happily, humming little tunes between bites.

For a moment, it was peaceful — quiet and oddly domestic.

By the time she was halfway through the plate, her appetite seemed to taper off. She let out a tiny yawn, rubbing her eyes with balled fists.

"Tired?" Azel asked gently.

"Mhm..." Lilia murmured sleepily.

He carried her over to the bed, tucking her in beneath the covers.

She curled up instantly, small fingers clutching at the blanket. As he brushed her bangs aside and patted her head, she smiled faintly even in sleep.

"She's cute," Azel said softly to himself, watching her breathing steady.

Once he was sure she was asleep, he sat back down and faced the system screen with his complete attention.

"Open System Shop."

In an instant, a new interface bloomed before him. It looked like a sleek storefront app from his world — clean rows of icons displaying all manner of goods.

[Bright Sword – 200 FP]

[Caster's Wand – 300 FP]

[Health Elixir – 50 FP]

[Phantom Cloak – 450 FP]

There were even "Daily Deals" flashing on the side.

'A store with rotating discounts,' Azel thought dryly. 'Of course it's monetized like a gacha game.'

He really didn't understand what Systems gained by selling these items, or was there an administrator out there that was supplying items to all the System users across worlds?

He scrolled briefly, noting a few tempting items, but his focus drifted to the glowing "Spin" icon pulsing faintly at the bottom of the menu.

When he tapped it, the screen warped and shifted until it displayed a massive wheel, gleaming with countless colored sections.

A long stick sat poised above it, ready to click as the wheel spun.

Azel stared flatly. "...This is literally a Gacha."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Of course it is."

If there was one thing he hated... It would be a gacha.

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