Path of the Extra

Chapter 87: Descent into Madness [2]

Azriel felt his insides burn as if a fire raged within him, yet at the same time, an icy wind brushed against his skin, making him shiver uncontrollably.

The conflicting sensations gnawed at him—heat scorching him from the inside, cold prickling him from the outside.

It was disorienting.

He collapsed to his knees next to Instructor Kevin, every movement scraping against him like sandpaper.

The bottle of water sat useless in their hands, untouched.

In front of Azriel, a figure materialized.

Blurred, shadowy, its features unrecognizable.

Yet its presence alone was enough to freeze him in place.

"Ooooo... hmmmm... laaaah... mmmm..."

A soft lullaby drifted from the figure, eerie and gentle.

The melody wrapped around him like a noose.

Azriel's eyes, wide and unblinking, locked onto the figure.

He couldn't look away. He didn't want to look away.

"Ooooo... hmmmm... laaaah... mmmm..."

The lullaby persisted, and with every note, a strange comfort washed over him.

The pain, the thirst—everything faded.

Why did this feel so familiar?

It was wrong.

He knew that.

Yet, the more he listened, the calmer he felt, as though he was sinking into some dark, warm abyss.

His body, previously crippled with pain, moved on its own.

He stood, the bottle of water slipping from his hand and landing in the sand with a muted thud.

Each movement should've hurt, but Azriel didn't notice.

He was entranced.

Step by step, he moved toward the figure.

"Mmmm... ohhhh... laaaah... hmmmmm..."

He couldn't even tell if the voice belonged to a man or a woman.

"My prince... wait..."

Kevin's voice was faint, hoarse—distant.

It didn't matter.

Nothing mattered but that song.

Azriel continued walking.

The pain that had once ravaged his body dulled into nothingness, replaced by a peaceful numbness.

A sense of serenity.

He walked.

And walked.

Until he was close enough to see it.

Azriel's steps faltered as the figure's features slowly sharpened.

The lullaby still dripped from its lips, but now he could see clearly.

It was a woman.

Her hair, a soft chocolate brown, cascaded down her shoulders.

Her eyes, aa shade of emerald green, gleamed.

Her skin was pale—too pale, like freshly fallen snow untouched by the sun that did not exist here.

She wore a simple white dress, flowing around her.

In her arms, she cradled a torn, black cloth, stroking it gently.

She looked down at it with a soft, affectionate smile as she continued to hum the lullaby, her voice soothing.

"Mmmm... ohhhh... laaaah..."

"Ah..."

A breath escaped Azriel's lips, barely audible.

His body trembled, lips quivering as the realization struck him.

He knew this woman.

"Mother..."

The moment the word escaped his lips, Azriel felt his blood freeze.

His eyes widened as he suddenly snapped out of the trance.

The lullaby didn't cease.

The woman remained oblivious, still cradling whatever lay beneath the torn cloth.

This was wrong. Everything was wrong.

'Why... why is she here...?'

A mental attack.

It had to be.

Just like that time in Europe.

He had nearly succumbed to the crying fog then; he wasn't about to make the same mistake again.

Or... at least, that's what he wanted to believe.

Yet, he couldn't move a single muscle, his gaze locked onto the woman before him.

She looked so real.

The more he stared, the weaker he felt, memories flooding back unbidden.

Their last conversation.

The accident.

The hospital.

The hateful eyes she had given him in her final moments.

Azriel's hands curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms until blood dripped.

'Why the fuck is it always a mental attack...?'

The sheer fact that a creature could invade his mind—and was strong enough to manifest here, on the second floor—darkened his thoughts.

'Of course, something like this would happen...'

If the first floor hadn't finished him off, then the second surely would.

And if that didn't do the job...

"My prince... please, don't move."

Kevin's hoarse voice reached him as he stood beside him, offering the bottle of water Azriel had dropped.

"Don't get too close. Don't look away from it... and don't talk to it."

Azriel nodded heavily, eyes still fixated on the figure that resembled his mother.

He gulped down the water in one go, his focus unbroken.

"What you're seeing is what we call a Cradler—nasty void creatures that manipulate your mind by taking the form of someone you wish to see. It's not someone I know, so it must be someone you desire. Here, I thought it would be someone more familiar…"

"Get to the point, Instructor."

Kevin's expression darkened.

"Right... The thing is, Cradlers are supposed to only appear from the seventh floor onward..."

'Great...'

A void creature that belonged on the seventh floor had manifested on the second.

Azriel kept staring, unwilling to look away.

Squinting slightly, he tried to sense its mana core, but found nothing.

"Instructor, where is its mana core?"

"We're not seeing its real body... I think."

His words provided little comfort as a sigh escaped Azriel's lips.

"So how do we kill it?"

A surprised expression crossed Kevin's face, but he didn't break his gaze from the Cradler.

"My prince, we can't. We need to retreat and head back to the surface. I thought we'd be fine, even with a small floor shift or two, but... a Cradler on the second floor? Gods know what else might be lurking."

Azriel bit his lip.

Kevin was right; it was becoming too risky.

Only Jasmine knew about the void dungeon targeting him, and even he found it ridiculous to confront a Cradler on this floor in person.

The Cradler showed no signs of changing its actions, still singing that lullaby, still cradling whatever lay beneath the cloth.

That smile...

It made Azriel sick.

His face contorted in disgust.

"Instructor, what's beneath that cloth?"

His voice came out colder than intended, surprising Kevin.

"I don't know. All Cradlers have them; they specialize in mental attacks. Their singing lures victims and leads to their demise, but I can't say what's hidden beneath that cloth."

Silence fell as Azriel continued to stare at it.

"My prince... if it's not too rude, who is this woman before us?"

Kevin's curiosity was understandable, though there was a time and place for such questions.

Azriel hesitated, listening to the lullaby echo in his mind.

"... A dead woman."

"I see... I apologize for asking something so insensitive."

Azriel nodded, his gaze fixed.

"It's fine, but how do we get out of this situation?"

Kevin tilted his head, considering the woman.

"We walk back slowly and hope it leaves us alone?"

"...."

'What did he just say...?'

Azriel felt a chill of disbelief, though he couldn't bring himself to look at Instructor Kevin.

He simply nodded and followed the instructions.

Slowly, he took a step back.

Then another.

And another.

Instructor Kevin mirrored his movements.

But...

It didn't take more than five steps before an icy shiver ran through Azriel.

The singing had stopped.

"Instructor...!"

"Calm down! Just don't move!"

Azriel obeyed, frozen in place.

Neither of them dared to budge as they watched the Cradler, who continued to stare at the cloth, its smile unmoving but its song ceased.

Azriel's heart pounded against his ribs.

He was desperate to destroy the void creature in front of him, yet he knew he was powerless.

A Cradler was a formidable foe—even Instructor Kevin had to be on high alert.

Then...

With the same smile, the woman who resembled his deceased mother finally looked up.

A shuddering breath escaped Azriel's lips as those familiar, eyes locked onto his.

He felt as though he was suffocating.

"Instructor..."

"Don't move, my prince... not yet."

They continued to stare at one another, cold sweat dripping from both Azriel and Kevin.

The tension was suffocating.

Until...

"It has been so long, hasn't it, dear?"

"…!"

Azriel's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat.

The voice, unmistakably his deceased mother's, made his blood run cold once again.

He gritted his teeth, remembering Kevin's warning:

Don't get too close. Don't look away from it and don't talk to it.

Azriel wanted to rip the Cradler's tongue out, his rage boiling over.

The Cradler tilted its head, a look of confusion on its face as it tapped its chin thoughtfully.

"Is something wrong, my dear? It's been so long. I long to hear your voice."

"Don't say a word. It wants you to fall for its tricks," Kevin murmured urgently.

Azriel nodded.

He wanted this to end swiftly.

Seeing his deceased mother's acting like this was agonizing.

He had to bite his tongue, struggling to keep the urge to vomit at bay.

"Oh, I see…"

A look of sudden realization spread across the Cradler's face, her smile widening unnervingly.

""!!""

She took a deliberate step forward.

And then...

She was right in front of Azriel.

Inches away from his face.

Azriel's mind went blank.

He could barely react as a cold shiver ran down his spine from the sudden, chilling touch on his cheek.

"It must have been lonely, right? You don't need to hold back in front of me anymore, my sweet, sweet dear…"