Path of the Extra Chapter 423: Forty-Eight Hours

Novel: Path of the Extra Author: Crypthh Updated: Jun 04, 2026

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Now reading: Chapter 423: Forty-Eight Hours from Path of the Extra, a Action novel by Crypthh.

"...What the hell does that an?"

Instead of answering, his other self let the smile fall from his face.

Then Azriel saw tears rolling slowly, almost tenderly, down his bloodied cheeks.

Azriel frowned.

For so reason, he almost flinched.

"I underestimated them."

His other self said it solemnly. Then he looked up and murmured,

"The curtains are open... the spectators are watching... but only a few will be burning..."

He looked back at Azriel.

Azriel felt his heart begin to roar with speed and fear.

Then, in a voice that almost sounded apologetic, the other him said,

"Sorry."

Azriel felt lightheaded.

He bit his lip hard and shook his head.

"I don’t want your sorry... I-I just want an explanation. No... I just want to go ho..."

"..."

"...But I won’t, will I?"

"..."

"I... I’m really going to die..."

Then Azriel looked up, a fragile glimr of hope returning to his eyes.

"B-but you... you’re the real , aren’t you? You know what the key is. The thing Pollux is looking for, right? You might be able to help . Can’t you? Tell what I—"

"Ha..."

Azriel froze.

"Hahahahahahahahahahahaha!"

His other self suddenly burst into laughter.

The sa laughter Azriel had let out earlier.

Loud.

Sickening.

Maddened.

The tears were still rolling down the other him’s face. Yet he smiled wickedly and laughed madly, his shoulders shaking, his expression torn apart by emotions that did not belong together.

Azriel stared.

He was laughing.

But he was not finding it funny.

Or perhaps he was.

Perhaps he was amused.

Perhaps he was grieving.

Perhaps he was happy.

Perhaps all of it was true at once.

’Oh...’

Azriel felt his stomach sink.

’His emotions are a ss...’

And with that, the hope in Azriel’s eyes was extinguished.

This person was not the real him.

At least, not the one Azriel had wanted to et.

Not the one he had hoped to see.

This guy...

This guy was only a broken-minded version of himself.

And, of course, Azriel laughed when his other self finally stopped.

’I... I’ve lost it...’

The thing sitting in front of him—what was the point of seeing him?

What purpose did he serve, other than to confirm that Azriel had truly gone insane?

He tried to think it through. Tried to reason with himself. Tried to find so explanation that did not end with madness.

Then he heard his other self whisper,

"You have forty-eight hours left to live."

Azriel’s head snapped up.

But he was gone.

The table was gone.

Only then did Azriel realize he was standing back in the center of the arena, surrounded by the stakes where dozens of severed heads had been impaled.

He looked around.

Then he crouched low, gripping his bleeding head with both hands, and stared at the ground as he tried to gather himself.

A long, exhausted sigh left him.

*****

Feeling it grow harder to breathe, Azriel’s breaths slipped out in quiet wheezes, faint enough that only soone listening closely would have heard them.

His entire body ached.

Still, he pushed himself forward.

At so point, he finally found the oubliette.

And the hatchet.

Azriel looked down at it for a mont. Then he made up his mind and jumped.

The mont he landed, he failed to catch himself on both feet. A sharp pain shot through his soles and ankles, violent and imdiate, and his legs gave out beneath him.

"Arhk!"

He groaned in pain, clenching his eyes shut for a mont.

’It fucking hurts so much..!’

...He really could not get used to pain.

Shifting his weight, Azriel groaned again before forcing himself up.

He found himself facing the familiar wall.

Before, words had been written there in blood.

WAKE UP

But now, there was nothing.

Still, Azriel did see blood.

He looked down and found the dark stain left behind by a corpse that should have been lying there.

But the corpse was gone.

Lia’s corpse was nowhere to be found.

Azriel let out a shaky breath.

So he... he really had killed her.

That part had not been fake.

But now her body was missing.

Great.

Just great.

’I don’t understand what’s happening... I feel so lost... God... what do I do..?’

Then, suddenly, he heard a voice that made his heart leap.

"You’re back."

Azriel turned imdiately.

Celestina was still there, chained and blindfolded.

He replied without hesitation, trying to keep his composure.

"And you’re awake."

At once, Azriel rose and walked toward her.

"Give a second. I’ll free you."

He knelt in front of her. The first thing he did was gently remove the blindfold from her face. As he leaned closer, he felt her nervous, uneven breaths brush against his skin.

For a mont, she flinched when Azriel’s fingertips grazed her bloodied cheek.

Azriel frowned.

"Are you hurt?"

He removed the blindfold completely.

Celestina let out a small groan and squinted, trying to adjust her eyes to the dim light of the chamber after being blinded for so long.

"Not anymore," she said. "I already healed myself."

Those words did not lift Azriel’s mood.

If anything, they made it sink further.

"So they hurt you?"

Celestina looked at him.

Or tried to.

After a mont, he noticed so clarity returning to her grey eyes.