Path of the Extra

Chapter 88: Descent into Madness [3]

"Leo…! What are you doing!?"

Jeanne's voice broke the stillness as she slid open the glass door, stepping barefoot onto the lawn.

Leo turned, his eyes blinking at the sight of his mother hurrying toward him.

His expression lit up.

"Mother!"

His smile was bright, almost too bright for the grotesque contrast it held against the scene before her.

Jeanne's breath hitched.

She froze, her hand trembling as it hovered over her mouth.

"Leo... w-what... is the meaning of this?"

"...?"

In his right hand, he held a kitchen knife, its edge smeared with blood.

In his left, a crow lay limp, its wings twitching helplessly, feathers slicked with blood.

Its feet… they were gone.

Jeanne's stomach twisted violently as her eyes darted to the tiny feet discarded on the grass.

The crow shrieked, a sound so agonizing it seemed to claw at the very air, but Leo just stared, oblivious to its torment.

"Ah..."

Leo dropped the kitchen knife on the grass and scratched his cheek awkwardly, smearing blood across his face.

"I, um… I read in one of Father's books that some birds can fly for months without landing. It made me curious..."

His emerald eyes, so innocent in their gaze, flickered down to the sobbing bird.

"If a bird had no legs, wouldn't it have to fly forever?"

Jeanne's heart plummeted.

Her vision blurred for a moment, her mind struggling to process what she had just heard.

She crouched slowly, not wanting to startle him.

Her hand found the kitchen knife, and she slid it carefully away from his reach.

"Leo..."

She wiped the blood from his cheek with the sleeve of her shirt, her hand shaking.

"Hmm?"

Leo blinked up at her, his face a mask of innocence.

"Don't do this again," she whispered, holding back the tremor in her voice. "I understand you're curious, but you must not."

"Why?"

"Because... it's wrong."

Leo blinked again, tilting his head as though her words were a puzzle he couldn't quite solve.

"Why is it wrong?"

"Because it's cruel, Leo. Hurting others is wrong, whether they're human or animal. We must be kind."

"Kind?"

His eyes flicked back to the crow, which had gone silent in his hand, breath rasping weakly. He seemed puzzled by the concept.

"But… if no one's kind to them, does it really matter?"

Jeanne's throat tightened as she crouched down beside him, pulling him close, burying his face in her chest.

"Being kind will give you much more joy than hurting others. You're still just a child, Leo. There are so many better things you can do... so please, hold back your curiosity, okay?"

"I'll try..."

Jeanne felt his hesitation, sensed that something deep within him had not fully absorbed her words.

His small arms hung limp at his sides as he finally dropped the crow onto the grass.

Its cries had stopped.

And in that moment, Leo learned a lesson, though not the one his mother hoped for.

Cutting off a bird's legs would not make it fly forever.

*****

Azriel stood frozen, his gaze locked on Jeanne.

He couldn't move. That face... It paralyzed him.

His mouth opened and closed, mimicking a fish gasping for air.

But she just smiled at him, softly. Kindly.

'It is just like her…'

"Prince Azriel!"

A voice echoed, and before he could react, a sword burst through the side of her head.

Azriel's eyes widened, his mind blank as he watched.

Jeanne still smiled, her hand resting gently on his cheek, the other clutching the cloth she carried.

The blade jutted out of her skull, but she didn't flinch. Not once. She stood there, unbothered, staring at him with affection.

Then, she crumbled.

Her body disintegrated into black dust, mingling with the dark sand beneath his feet.

"Ah…"

He couldn't think. His mind struggled to grasp the horror of what had just happened.

His eyes fell to the pile of dust.

Bones. Human bones. Nothing more.

Azriel bit his lip.

'It is just like her…'

The thought echoed in his head again..

He turned his gaze away, unwilling to look any longer.

"We should leave now, my prince. This one isn't afraid to confront us. We need to move before its true form finds us," Instructor Kevin said, his hand resting firmly on Azriel's shoulder.

Azriel nodded slowly.

"We must also warn the other groups. The second group is due to enter today… It's unfortunate about all these accidents."

Azriel hummed.

"Yes… it really is."

Instructor Kevin gave him a curt nod and began walking ahead.

The pain, the heat, the cold—they all vanished.

Like it had never happened.

But something loomed closer.

Something they couldn't see.

The Cradler was near.

They could sense it. But how near? How much time did they have left? There was no way to know.

Retreating was the best option.

It should have been.

"My prin—guh!"

Kevin choked mid-sentence.

Azriel turned to see his black katana piercing through the instructor's back, the blade erupting out of his chest, slick with blood.

Kevin's eyes, wide with disbelief, met Azriel's.

Azriel stared back, his lips trembling as he bit down on them, eyes filled with something unreadable.

"Wh... why?"

Kevin's voice broke, his words weak and desperate.

Azriel didn't answer. He gripped the katana, Void Eater, and pulled it free.

Kevin collapsed into the black sand.

Tears streamed down the instructor's face, mingling with the blood spilling from his lips.

His gaze trembled, confused, filled with pain, anger... and sadness.

Azriel walked closer, standing over him, watching.

The silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.

Kevin's eyes darted back and forth, searching for an explanation.

"…I'm sorry."

Those were the last words Kevin heard. The last face he saw.

Before everything went black.

*****

A cloud of smoke drifted in front of his face as he held the cigarette between his fingers.

The streets bustled with life, people rushing about, each engrossed in their own little worlds.

He stood out, dressed entirely in black, his hat pulled low over his face.

He wore a long black coat that draped elegantly, paired with tailored black pants and polished black boots.

A classic black tuxedo hat perched atop his head.

In one hand, he held a cigarette, its smoke curling into the night, while the other was clad in sleek black gloves.

As he made his way toward the plaza, his eyes locked on the massive, black hole before him.

The Void Dungeon.

No one was allowed inside—not yet.

The Hero Academy had claimed it for now.

Only the truly mad would willingly sign up for that Academy, knowing they'd have to step foot into that nightmarish abyss.

'So eager to rush toward their deaths...'

He stopped at a safe distance, watching.

A woman stood in front of the dungeon, her back facing it, entirely alone.

Her eyes were closed, yet her brilliant blue hair swayed in the wind.

She wore tight black leather pants that hugged her figure, paired with a fitted charcoal gray jacket that accentuated her silhouette.

The jacket had a subtle sheen, catching the light as she shifted slightly.

On her feet were sleek ankle boots, their smooth leather gleaming under the soft glow of the streetlights.

He couldn't look away.

She captivated him, drew him in, her stillness more magnetic than anything else around.

He wasn't the only one.

All around him, people were sneaking glances or openly staring at her.

She was no ordinary woman.

She was one of the most famous heroes and a prominent instructor at the Hero Academy.

His trance was shattered by the sudden impact of a small body colliding with his leg.

He glanced down to see a boy sprawled on the ground, sobbing, his ice cream splattered across the pavement.

"I... I'm s-sorry."

The man said nothing, only looked at the boy for a moment before pulling a crisp bill worth 100 Velts from his pocket.

Velts.

The currency of the new world, born from the global changes and the collapse of Europe.

All other currencies had been wiped out, replaced by one universal tender—Velts.

The boy's eyes went wide at the sight of the bill.

"Take it," the man said in a low, rumbling voice, "and buy as many as you want."

Despite the fear evident on the boy's face, his eyes sparkled as he took the 100 Velts without hesitation.

"Thank you, mister!"

The boy's face brightened, and the tears vanished as quickly as they'd come.

The child ran off, and the man in black exhaled a sigh, watching him disappear into the crowd.

He raised the cigarette to his lips, ready for a long drag, but was interrupted by a soft, persistent beeping in his pocket.

He pulled out a small device.

Its screen blinked with red dots, beeping steadily.

"So... he's finally done it. Took long enough."

He flicked the cigarette onto the ground, knowing full well it could get him arrested for littering, but he didn't care.

Reaching into his coat, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

"It's time."