The Game's Extra: Azhriel Odyssey-Chapter 48: The Battle Royale-2.

The moment they charged, Azhriel’s gaze narrowed.

He didn’t move at first. He simply waited, looking at them as they charged ferally.

Then—step.

He vanished from their line of sight for a split second, reappearing just to their side, sword unsheathed in a smooth flash of silver-blue light.

Frost Born sang through the air, the chill trailing its edge like breath in winter.

Clang!

The brown haired was barely able to react, as his blade clashed with him, however Azhriel strength overpowered him.

With a twist of his wrist, he knocked the sword off its line and slammed the hilt into the boy’s gut.

Thud.

"Argh."

The boy fell to one knee, winded.

The second, one with black hair came from the side, spear ready—but he was slower.

Azhriel spun, letting the cold mist from his sword expand outward. The mist thickened just enough to obscure vision, and then—crack.

Azhriel’s elbow slammed into the boy’s temple, clean and sharp. The boy staggered back, stunned, as his spear clattered to the ground.

The first boy recovered quickly, grit in his eyes. He raised his hand and launched a ball of fire straight toward Azhriel.

But Azhriel moved before it even neared him—sidestepping smoothly, the flames missing by a wide arc.

Without wasting a second, his hand flicked forward.

A shard of ice, sharp as a spearhead, flew from his fingers—silent and cold. It cut through the air and shot toward the brown-haired boy with deadly precision.

"Aaaah"

The icy arrow struck with a sharp crack, peircing the boy square in the shoulder. He stumbled back, a thin layer of frost spreading over his arm as he cried out.

Azhriel didn’t stop.

His movements were fluid, precise—like a dancer trained in the art of battle. He closed the distance, sword now in hand, the blade of Frost Born gleaming faintly with cold mist.

"No, you dooooonnnnn’tttt."

The second boy, seeing his previous opponent now partner fall, rushed forward with a war cry. Lightning gathered in his fists, crackling violently.

Azhriel leaned back, dodging the punch by a hair’s breadth. In one smooth motion, he spun and slashed upward.

The boy jumped back, but not fast enough. The icy blade cut across his side, and frost burst from the wound, creeping like vines of cold across his waist.

Both boys staggered, breaths short, eyes wide. Their bodies trembled—not just from pain, but from panic

And in their minds, the same thought echoed:

’Why did we have to run into him?’

But Azhriel didn’t pause.

He stepped forward. Not fast. Not slow. Just sharp—too sharp.

The dark-haired boy barely blinked when it happened. A clean strike. A sudden glow. His badge lit up red as a translucent shield activated around him.

Then—he vanished in a blink of light.

Azhriel stood still.

+10.

His own badge pulsed softly, the number glowing faintly as his first points were recorded.

He exhaled.

One down. Many more to go.

Azhriel turned away, his footsteps calm as he started disappearing into the trees once more.

Behind him, the last boy stood frozen, eyes darting between Azhriel’s back and the spear lying in the dirt nearby.

He hesitated—then made his move.

One step.

That was all he got.

With a sharp crack, an ice spike burst from the ground, aimed straight for his throat. He didn’t even have time to scream.

The emergency shield on his badge flared to life, casting a red light around him—

Then he vanished, swept out of the battlefield in a blink.

+10.

The number glowed faintly once more on Azhriel’s badge as the forest grew quiet again.

This was just the beginning.

****

"Let’s stop the fight," Raymond said calmly.

"What?" Samuel blinked, not sure if he heard that right.

"Don’t misunderstand," Raymond added quickly. "I’m just saying—let’s save this for the end, alright?"

Samuel raised an eyebrow, clearly suspicious.

Raymond let out a small sigh. "This is just the start of the exam. If we go all out now, we’ll be stuck in this fight the whole time. And in case you forgot, we’ve got rankings to think about."

He slowly pulled back his mana.

"So let’s settle it later," he said.

"...Fair enough," Samuel replied after a moment. He withdrew his energy too.

Up in the stands, the crowd let out a mix of surprised reactions.

"What’s this!" the announcer’s voice echoed through the arena. "Looks like Raymond and Samuel decided to postpone their showdown. A bit of a bummer for those waiting for sparks to fly—but don’t worry!"

The giant screen shifted.

"Let’s turn our attention to one of the most promising candidate—look there!"

A new scene appeared.

A girl with silver-blue hair stood tall in the middle of the field, her presence unshaken. Around her, three students lay unconscious on the ground, their badges glowing faintly. Within seconds, they were teleported away in pillars of soft light.

She started moving again.

At her side, water coiled gently around her fingertips, glinting in the sunlight like liquid crystal. Her expression was calm—too calm. Yet behind those cold eyes, something stirred. A quiet storm, waiting for the next clash.

From the arena’s announcer booth, the voice rose with energy, loud and excited.

"The Headmaster’s Daughter, Elizabeth, isn’t showing any mercy today!" he called out. "Just look at those knocked-out cadets! They didn’t even stand a chance!"

Cheers rang out. The crowd roared with excitement, their eyes glued to the screen.

Elizabeth paused, her steps slowing as the wind shifted.

From between the trees ahead, another figure emerged—quiet, poised, yet holding a pressure all her own.

Alicia Burns.

The two girls stood still, the air between them growing sharp, tense. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, catching strands of Elizabeth’s silver-blue hair and the reddish orange tips of Alicia’s.

Their eyes met.

Calm met calm. Power met power.

No words were spoken—none were needed.

They recognized each other instantly. After all, they had basically spent three days together.

A quiet breeze passed.

Then, Elizabeth’s fingers twitched, water gathering at her side like a coiled serpent.

Alicia’s foot shifted slightly, hand hovering near her blade.

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