EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC55: Whisper
Chapter 55: Whisper
[Time left: 00 : 00 : 00]
[Your Mission has begun]
[Your rewards will be doubled if you handle the assailants within a short period of time]
[Number Of Assassins: 20/20]
"It's begun," Azel murmured.
Far from where the young man stood, another voice broke the afternoon's silence.
"Check your masks, check your steel," Whisper said, tightening the black scarf over his mouth.
His voice carried the quiet, clipped tone of a man who had accepted death as part of his profession.
The mask hid most of his face, but not his eyes — eyes that were sharp, cold, and quietly unsettled.
This was suicide.
Even an assassin of his caliber knew it.
The Starbloom Royal Palace wasn't a place you infiltrated — it was a fortress of legends.
The sort of place where the wrong shadow could get you killed before you realized it moved.
But gold was gold, and their client was persuasive.
Around him, nineteen others stood crouched on a rooftop not far from the palace walls, as much as he would love to have done it at night; the first Empress had said to strike at the afternoon.
Each one wore the same black leathers, each one silent.
Professionals.
Their target was clear: the Second Empress, Edna Starbloom, who — according to their employer was hosting a tea party with her daughters today.
They had been given the location and a layout of the inner palace.
"And keep an eye out for a boy," the First Empress had said, her voice full of quiet venom.
"Azel. Strong for his age, but nothing more than a child."
Whisper had scoffed then, and he scoffed now.
Strong in training doesn't mean strong in killing.
Killing wasn't about skill — it was about heart.
And the heart was what cracked first.
He doubted the boy had ever even felt the heat of blood spray across his face.
"Alright, men. Deploy." Whisper's voice was low, but it carried.
They moved as one.
Twenty dark shapes blurred forward, almost melting into the afternoon air as their footfalls whispered over the tiles.
"Anyone who dies doesn't get generational wealth!" Whisper added with a razor-thin smile.
The faint chuckle from his team didn't hide their tension.
The Royal Castle loomed closer, it was bright under the sunlight and they would be infiltrating it.
The front gates were guarded by ten men in polished armor.
The assassins didn't slow down.
Daggers flashed silver in the air.
In the space of a heartbeat, steel met flesh.
The ten guards didn't even scream — throats opened too cleanly for sound.
Whisper vaulted the gate, aura pooling in his legs as he scaled the wall like a spider.
The courtyard unfolded before him, its cobblestones already darkening with fresh blood.
'The strong aren't at the gate. They never are,' Whisper reminded himself.
The gates were a challenge to the bold, nothing more, it was like a dare on whether they had enough balls to go through with the madness.
The real predators waited inside.
The courtyard guards had already formed a line.
Whisper leapt, body a streak of black against the sunlight, and sighed softly.
Then he vanished.
"Assassin's Code," he whispered to himself, daggers inverted in his grip. "First Style — Whistling Phantom."
The air stilled.
A faint, high-pitched whistle cut through the air.
Then came the carnage.
Heads spun into the air, severed too cleanly for the victims to realize they were dead.
Bodies crumpled without their crowns, blood pooling in dark, lazy circles on the stone.
When Whisper appeared again, the other assassins were already pushing through what few guards remained.
The First Empress's intel was good — the courtyard was lightly manned.
Still, the true danger was beyond these walls, she had said she would try to evacuate some if not all of them for smooth work, but she hadn't told him how she planned to do it.
At least, that was the plan — until the first arrow came.
It wasn't just fast — it was absolute.
It cut through the air like it owned it, and when it struck, the skull it met didn't break.
It burst.
The assassin's head was gone in a spray of blood before the body even collapsed.
The second arrow took George.
George, who had been with Whisper since their first job, whose laugh was too loud for someone in their line of work.
Whisper's jaw clenched as his friend's head vanished in a red mist.
'Damn it.'
"Move!" Whisper barked, and the team surged forward.
The palace loomed like a sleeping beast, every window and shadow a potential mouth ready to bite.
Whisper's mind replayed the First Empress's orders.
She'd promised to keep the Emperor distracted.
But she had never said a word about an archer this skilled here.
'I thought all of them were sword fanatics,' He thought.
Inside, the halls smelled of polished wood and faint incense.
Servants screamed and scattered at the sight of them.
The assassins ignored them — this wasn't about servants. Any guard who got close died fast.
One servant, a young woman with hair pinned high, came at Whisper with twin daggers.
He didn't bother countering her strike — he cut through her legs, sending her crumpling.
Her screams followed him down the hall.
They were close now.
The place where the empress and her daughters were having lunch was just ahead.
If they were fast enough, maybe —
His foot slid.
Whisper looked down.
Soap.
The tiles beneath him were slick with it, glistening faintly under the sunlight.
Soap?!
The realization came a second too late.
Arrows.
Not one, not two — dozens.
They tore through the air, each one laced with lethal aura.
Men screamed as shafts punched through armor, flesh, and bone.
The soap turned the hallway into a killing field, making it impossible to dodge without losing balance.
Whisper moved anyway, letting the slipperiness aid his shift out of an arrow's path.
Others weren't so lucky. His numbers dropped fast.
And still, no sign of the archer.
He pressed on, he was the last one left. He could abandon the mission now but... he had already come so far.
Whisper kept moving, his breath tight, his chest heavier than it should've been.
He reached the door.
His heart hammered as he shoved it open —
Darkness.
Not the absence of light, but something thicker.
The room seemed alive... like the darkness was living, it was scary.
The door slammed behind him.
Whisper froze.
He'd looked death in the eye before, but this... this was different.
The shadows seemed to coil, and in them was a figure — a black cloak, silver hair that caught the dim light, and eyes the color of spilled wine.
The boy.
"Azel," Whisper hissed, lunging forward.
Only — he wasn't lunging. His body wasn't moving.
His vision shifted, tilting strangely.
It wasn't until the cold stone rushed up at him that he realized why.
His head had been severed.
"And that's twenty..." The boy's voice was low, almost amused. "Hehe... mission complete."
Whisper never heard the thud his head made when it hit the floor.
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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC56: What The Fuck
Chapter 56: What The Fuck
The severed head of Whisper rolled to a stop at Azel's feet.
The dead man's eyes were wide open, frozen in a look that was somewhere between shock and pure, primal fear.
It was very satisfying to see the man like that for him, after all Whisper had been one of the characters he hated geniunely from the bottom of his heart.
In the game, Whisper had been one of the most infuriating bosses.
A lowly gifted assassin at first glance, but given enough time, he evolved — refining his so-called Assassin's Code art with daggers until he was an unstoppable shadow.
He'd eventually go toe-to-toe with the main character and nearly kill him... only to die in a ridiculous display of plot armor.
But that served him right, he was an annoying man... How does one monologue about their past and still strike you down with a hit that'll take half of your HP?!!!
"I've always wanted to one-shot you," Azel muttered with a grin.
He'd spent hours — no, days on his old runs trying to beat this guy.
This time, Whisper hadn't even lasted a minute.
He stepped over the corpse and glanced down the hallway.
The bodies of the other assassins lay scattered like discarded dolls, the air thick with the smell of burnt flesh and iron.
The stone floor was slick with dark stains, a grim testament to the speed and precision of his ambush.
He had been smart about it after all, who in their right mind faces assassins head on?
They'd been standing in front of the door.
The door Edna was behind.
Inside, she was trying to convince the others to move quickly.
The servants had already been evacuated — perfect timing for them to picture the "Tragic death of the empress."
He leaned casually against the wall, letting the moment of silence stretch while he thought back on the fight.
The system store had been his real ace.
It let him tweak the design of his arrows, and he'd gone a step further — the tips of the arrow detonated with aura when they connected..
The opening move had been a beauty.
First, the Illusion Gas.
It was hidden inside the shaft of his second shot that was close to Whisper, though Azel wondered if the person was close to him which was why he had stopped when he had shot the assassin.
But when it landed, Whisper had stopped in his tracks, staring at the person then at Azel with that murderous glare before... slowing.
And then charging for the door.
The illusion was immediate but the people were relying on their instincts, it seemed they had memorized their interiors... because they moved instinctively, but soon they reached here; there had been no servants in the hall since they already evacuated the moment the knights and assassins clashed.
But to be honest the Emperor was doing a bad job, Edna didn't even have a private guard.
But that aside as they were heading for the door, they got caught in the hallways he had doused in soap.
Yes — soap.
Slippery as ice, coating the polished hallway floor.
It had been stupidly cheap in the store, and now it was one of his favorite tricks.
The assassins had tried to sprint forward, only to skid, stumble, and crash.
By the time they'd regained footing, the arrows were already flying.
Explosive heads, precise aim — one after another, each detonation rattling the hall with shockwaves.
Limbs fell, bodies dropped, and Whisper managed to dodge the shot surprisingly, his instincts were still high but after that the illusion took full effect.
He began fumbling in the air for a door, staring around the hallway like he was in a different place and then froze him and shouted his name.
Azel smirked. "Not so scary now."
Still, part of him was curious.
What had Whisper seen in the illusion?
What kind of nightmare had him clawing at thin air and spinning around like a madman?
'Well... not like it matters.' He swiped his hand through the air, pulling up the familiar blue glow of the system screen.
[Mission completed in record time.]
[Rewards doubled. Bonus granted for preventing significant casualties.]
[Congratulations!]
[New Title Acquired: King of the Bow]
[King of the Bow: There once was a man who needed no sword. His arrows felled armies, brought down giants, and pierced the hearts of demigods. Legends say the sun itself dimmed when he drew his bow. You walk that same path.]
[Effect: Any shot you take will be 50% more accurate, so long as you truly wish to hit your target.]
Azel blinked.
"Demigods? Really?" He rolled his eyes, though he couldn't deny the bonus was insane.
Fifty percent more accuracy wasn't just a boost — it was cheating.
Still, the dramatics made him snort.
[Quest Completed]
[Quest: Protect Edna Starbloom, her daughter, and the other heroine from the assassins.]
[Rewards:]
[200 Fate Tickets]
[2000 Fate Points]
[20 Golden Tickets]
[1× Special Dungeon Key]
[Additional Rewards]
[Necklace of Protection]
[1× Summoning Card]
[1× Fake Corpse (One-Time Item)]
"Double rewards, but the dungeon key stays at one? Figures..." Azel muttered, scrolling through the list.
The Summoning Card tempted him — he could bring in another hero-class ally right now but that would have to wait.
Still it was exactly what he wanted right now.
It was the last item that caught his attention.
Fake Corpse.
When he tapped the description, his eyes lit up.
Perfect.
This wasn't just some novelty — it was a flawless decoy, indistinguishable from a real body.
It would fool even magic-based scans for a short period.
And right now, it was exactly the thing he needed to make everyone think Edna was dead.
His plan formed instantly.
"Azel?"
The voice was calm, but there was a tremor under the surface.
He turned toward the door as it creaked open.
Edna stepped out, her face pale but composed.
"We're ready."
Azel nodded and walked in behind her. The sight stopped him cold.
The two girls were clinging to their mother, tears streaking down their cheeks.
Edna held them tightly, her own hands trembling despite her effort to hide it.
One girl's sobs were muffled in Edna's dress; the other's small fingers clutched her sleeve as if letting go would mean losing her forever.
For a moment, the system notifications faded from Azel's mind.
He saw the weight in Edna's eyes — not just fear, but the burden of not wanting to leave.
She looked up at him then, and for the briefest heartbeat, her gaze softened.
"It's time to go," he said quietly.
His tone carried no room for argument.
Edna nodded, brushing the girls' hair gently before urging them to stand.
Azel could tell she wanted to say something — to him, maybe to them but instead she simply gathered herself and straightened her shoulders.
Naelia turned to Azel, her eyes still slick with tears but grateful.
"Thank you Azel... Thank you so much." She said with a teary smile.
[Congratulations, The Forgotten Heroine 'Naelia Starbloom' has reached Maximum affection points]
[Congratulations, The Emotionless Heroine 'Ira Valein' has reached Maximum affection points]
[You have gained a new status]
'What the fuck?'
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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC57: The Final Phase
Chapter 57: The Final Phase
'Huh?'
Azel stared at the floating blue text in front of him as though the system itself had developed a warped sense of humor.
He wasn't shocked about Naelia — her attachment to him had been growing in ways that were already... unsettling but Ira too?
The quiet, unreadable girl he had barely spoken more than a handful of words to?
[Congratulations, Heroine 'Naelia' and Heroine 'Ira' have become Yanderes]
The notification pulsed innocently in the air.
He dismissed it with a mental flick, burying the rest of the alerts and reports.
He couldn't — no, wouldn't process that right now.
The last thing he needed while orchestrating a fake assassination and escape was two heroines slipping into obsessive madness at the same time.
"How the hell did this even happen...?" he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing as his thoughts drifted.
He had been careful with his interactions — at least he thought he had and even if they developed feelings which he could understand since he was a handsome chad, it was still excessive.
Edna, oblivious to his internal chaos, moved to Ira, placing a steadying hand on the girl's shoulder before gently taking Lillia from her.
The Empress's movements were slow, deliberate, as though each touch was a silent promise that everything was going to be fine.
"The rest of you should rush out of here," Azel said, pointing toward the hallway with a sharp nod. "Get the guards. We need to make it look realistic."
The three girls shared a look, nodded, and headed for the door.
They opened it and froze.
The corridor beyond was lined with death.
Blood pooled in uneven patches along the polished stone, dripping sluggishly from the broken bodies of Whisper's men.
Swords lay abandoned in limp hands.
And those eyes of a headless man they didn't even know his name — glassy, staring at nothing were fixed forever in that last moment of confusion and fear.
Naelia's throat bobbed.
She had grown up with the etiquette of nobility, the politics of court... but this wasn't court.
This was carnage.
And yet — she did not turn away.
Azel just shouted out for them to be careful of the soap, so they took slow, cautious steps.
The pale smear of suds glistened faintly under the dim sunlight through the windows, slick enough to send even an experienced fighter tumbling if they weren't careful.
But that wasn't what Naelia was focused on.
'He... did this?'
She looked over the scene again — the precision of the kills, the eerie silence that must have accompanied them. Not once
had they heard a scream from inside the room.
'He took down this many people, without so much as a scratch...' Her eyes darkened with a dangerous mix of awe and possessiveness.
Ira, walking ahead of her, was expressionless.
Her steps were calm, careful... and yet her aura radiated something Naelia couldn't quite name.
It annoyed her.
On any other day, Naelia might have ignored it — might have dismissed Ira as someone who simply didn't care.
But now, she couldn't help but notice.
Ira wasn't surprised.
It was as if she had seen worse.
But the dangerous part wasn't that calm — it was the heat Naelia thought she saw flicker under it, the tiniest twitch at the corner of Ira's lips as her eyes tracked the blood stains leading away from the bodies.
She had known Ira for a long time now to be able to discern her friend's thoughts.
Because in truth, Ira's inner world was anything but calm.
'He protected me~' Her thoughts sang, every syllable dripping with an unhinged adoration. 'I love him~ I love him~ I LOVE HIM!'
The blush on her cheeks was invisible under the dim hallway light, but in her mind, she was already imagining a thousand scenarios in which Azel claimed her under the moonlight... in broad daylight... even in public...
She loved him so much she would let him do it here if he willed.
Azel, still inside, felt a shiver race down his spine for no reason he could name.
He frowned and shook it off. He had no time for bad feelings — only for execution of the plan.
"Hey, Edna," he said, stepping toward her.
She looked at him, her lips parting slightly. "Yes?"
"Don't move."
Before she could ask why, he raised a shimmering orb above her head and crushed it in his hand.
A wave of magic washed over her from head to toe.
Her once golden hair shimmered, the strands melting into a sleek, silvery white that caught the light like spun frost.
Her crimson eyes lightened several shades, and her face shifted subtly, her cheekbones a touch sharper, her features less instantly recognizable.
Lillia was the first to break the silence, of course.
"Mama, you look more beautiful now!" she chirped.
Azel couldn't help but pat the girl's head.
She had been invaluable through all this, her cuteness played a role in everything too.
Then he crouched slightly to meet Edna's gaze. "Do you remember the motel from yesterday?"
Edna nodded once.
"Lillia will get you outside the castle. Then you run there as fast as you can with her. Book a room under a fake name." He handed her a heavy pouch of coins. "This should cover it."
She nodded again, her lips parting — expectant.
Azel sighed. He knew that look.
He leaned forward and pressed a short kiss to her lips.
She made a small, satisfied noise before turning away with an almost imperceptible harrumph.
"Alright, Lillia," Azel said, "just like you practiced with Lorraine. Levitate over the walls and straight to safety."
"Yes, Papa."
The girl pressed her palms together.
Pink energy swirled around her and Edna, wrapping them in a protective bubble before propelling them upward and out through the open window in a smooth arc.
Azel watched until they were gone, then turned back to the grisly scene at his feet.
'Time to sell the performance.'
First, he took one of Whisper's daggers and carved shallow wounds into his arms and chest.
They bled enough to look convincing, but with [Pain Nullification LV. Max], they barely registered.
Next, he pulled the [Fake Corpse] from his inventory. His face twitched.
It looked exactly like Edna.
Not "sort of" like her.
Not "passable" for her.
Exactly like her.
The system's accuracy was, as always, both a blessing and deeply unsettling.
Shaking off the discomfort, he positioned the body in the wreckage, arranging the scene so it would look as though she had died in the blast.
Then he pulled out the final piece — an explosive orb meant for mission completion. The moment his aura touched it, it began to hum and pulse with dangerous energy.
'All I have to do is tank this.' He took a deep breath, aura hardening around him like a second skin.
From down the hall, footsteps pounded against stone.
Naelia and the others were back, this time with guards in tow.
"Hurry!" Naelia's voice cracked. "Sir Azel is fighting assassins that were after my mom!"
Her eyes darted forward, searching for reassurance — and perhaps silently praying that whatever he was doing was part of a greater plan.
One of the guards sprinted forward, eyes widening.
"There's an explosive!" he barked, shoving Naelia, Ira, and Elizabeth backward.
They didn't understand what was going on...
Heat roared through the air.
And then —
BOOM!
The palace shook as a massive wave of fire and pressure tore through the room where the queen had been.
The hallway itself buckled under the force, stone cracking, the blast carving a jagged wound straight through the heart of the building.
Shouts erupted behind the guards. Smoke poured into the corridor, thick and choking, hiding everything from sight.
To them — to everyone, it would look like the Empress had just been obliterated.
And that was exactly how Azel needed it.
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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC58: Aftermath
Chapter 58: Aftermath
It had been over a week since the explosion.
A week of rumors, whispered gossip, and political maneuvering that made Azel want to roll his eyes into the back of his skull.
No wonder he hated politics in his past life, it was unwanted attention.
The first and most important piece of news to the outside world was that Azel Thorn, son of the Sword Saint, had miraculously survived the palace blast while the Second Empress had perished, the Emperor and First Empress were out of the castle on that day.
The more "tragic" part — depending on who you asked was that he'd been gravely wounded in the process.
The first two days after the incident, he was confined to bedrest, patched up by healers while a steady stream of officials came by to "express concern."
By the third day, however, he was already up and moving — though still bandaged choosing to recuperate somewhere far less suffocating than the castle.
The second development was that the princesses of the Starbloom Empire had been sent away for "training" far from the capital — a convenient excuse to remove them from the political scene.
Even Ira, who technically wasn't a princess, had somehow tagged along.
Azel suspected that Naelia was adamant to be accompanied by her, and he could only imagine what this training entailed but he hoped they could grow stronger as well.
The third, and perhaps most telling, update was that the treaty between the Starbloom Empire and the Aegis Empire remained entirely intact.
The supposed death of Empress Edna — who had been married off to secure peace had apparently changed nothing.
The message was clear: politically, she had been expendable.
And yet, she didn't care.
Not a single bit.
Not when she was nestled in the warm, bandaged arms of the man she loved.
Edna shifted slightly in Azel's lap, the dull scent of ointment from his healing wounds mixing with the faint trace of his natural scent.
His arms — strong even in recovery were locked protectively around her, one hand idly brushing her hair while his gaze remained fixed on something distant.
Here, away from the suffocating castle corridors, there were no false smiles, no "accidental" brushes of hands from noblemen trying to test boundaries, no poisonous court ladies trying to trip her in both the literal and political sense.
Here, he didn't see her as a pawn.
Here, he loved her.
She tilted her head to nuzzle against his neck. Lillia lay asleep on the bed nearby, curled up like a kitten.
Ever since Azel's return, the little girl had insisted on sleeping with them both, sandwiched between or in his arms, and Edna found — to her surprise that she didn't mind.
In fact, she had grown to... like it. The security of being held while drifting to sleep was something she had never experienced before.
Still, Lillia's presence didn't stop Edna's more... possessive instincts.
Her lips hovered near Azel's shoulder.
She let her tongue dart out, tasting his skin — salty with sweat, warm under her mouth.
The bandages didn't reach this high, so she could mark him without disturbing his injuries.
He tensed slightly at the touch, and her lips curved into a smug little smile.
Then she bit him.
Not hard enough to cause him pain — not that pain would bother him but enough to make him feel it.
She deepened the bite until the faint metallic taste of blood touched her tongue.
Only then did she release him, leaving behind a fresh mark that stood out vividly against his skin.
Satisfied, she shifted back into his lap, curling into him like she owned him.
"This is the third time you've marked me today," Azel sighed, his tone carrying equal parts amusement and mild exasperation as his arms instinctively tightened around her. "Don't you have anything else to do?"
"Nah," she replied, cheeks tinged with the faintest blush. "I prefer marking you."
He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. Without warning, he scooped her up as though she weighed nothing.
"Have you decided on what I asked you?" he asked, adjusting her slightly so he could look her in the eye.
Edna puffed her cheeks out.
"I told you, I'm too old to learn either aura or magic." She gave an exaggerated sigh, though in truth, it wasn't about her age — she simply had no desire to go through the tedium of training.
What she really wanted was to be his stay-at-home wife, free to laze around and monopolize his time.
Still... if he insisted...
"But," she added reluctantly, "if you insist, I'll become a mage."
Azel's brows lifted ever so slightly.
'Of course she chooses the path with the lifespan boost,' he thought.
A mage's life span grew with every rank up, so the choice made sense — though he suspected her reasoning was far less practical and far more "because I feel like it."
Still, it wasn't a bad decision.
Edna had potential — more than she realized.
And he wanted her to be able to protect herself, especially if they ever got separated in a dangerous situation.
"In that case..." Azel raised his hand, the faint shimmer of his storage ring catching the light.
With a flick of his wrist, dozens of small, crystalline spheres poured out onto the floor between them, clinking softly as they rolled to a stop.
The air itself seemed to hum faintly with energy.
There were fifty E-rank mana cores and one D-rank core — the latter glowing faintly brighter than the rest.
He had tried to spin the Fate wheel with regular Fate tickets, and he got 51 Items consecutively, all of them being monster cores.
Edna stared at them with mild disinterest. "So... I just eat them or what?"
He gave her a flat look. "No. Sit down."
She did so, lowering herself to the floor with none of the regal posture she once carried as an empress.
"I'm only doing this because it's you," she said, crossing her legs and resting her elbows lazily on her knees. "So, how do I absorb it?"
"Close your eyes and feel the energy inside the core," Azel instructed, keeping his tone even.
It was straight out of the beginner mage training manuals he'd read in the game — the same ones that worked in this world.
Edna picked up one of the faintly glowing E-rank cores, the surface smooth and almost warm in her palm.
Closing her eyes, she inhaled slowly, focusing on the faint thrum beneath her fingertips.
She wanted to impress him.
She wanted his eyes to only be on her.
Almost immediately, she felt it — a pulsing warmth, like a slow heartbeat, radiating from the core.
The longer she focused, the more she realized it wasn't alone. Threads of that same energy drifted through the air around her, invisible but present.
"I can feel it," she murmured, eyes still closed. "The mana in the core... in the air... everywhere. Except your body. But there's a crazy amount coming from Lillia."
Azel froze for a fraction of a second.
Then a chime sounded in his vision.
[Congratulations. Your partner, Edna Starbloom, has unlocked Hidden Talent: Mana Genius (LV. 1)]
Azel stared blankly at the notification.
'Right. Everyone's a genius except for me.'
He suppressed a sigh.
Well... at least this "genius" happened to be his so it wasn't bad at all.
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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC59: Medusa, The Vile Necromancer
Chapter 59: Medusa, The Vile Necromancer
Edna sat cross-legged on the ground, her posture almost bouncing with excitement.
The faint candlelight caught the spark in her eyes as she cradled the small black stone in her palms.
"Now what am I supposed to do?" she asked, leaning forward like a child waiting for the rules of a game.
Azel exhaled slowly, not because he was tired, but because her enthusiasm was infectious in the most distracting way.
"Push some mana into the stone," he said.
She nodded firmly.
A moment later, the stone fractured in her hands with a sharp crack. Tiny shards dissolved into silver dust, swirling briefly before vanishing into the air.
"A burst of mana will come out of the stone and flow into your body," Azel continued, his tone slipping into the patient cadence of a teacher.
And sure enough, it did.
A surge of cool energy rushed into Edna's chest, spreading outward through her veins like a sudden winter river melting into spring.
She gasped softly — not in pain, but in exhilaration as her heartbeat quickened.
She could almost feel her senses sharpening: the faintest rustle of the curtains became crisp, the coolness of the ground felt richer, and even the steady rhythm of Azel's breathing behind her was impossibly distinct.
When a mage reached a stage like this, they wouldn't be able to sense any magical energy outside but rather focus everything into their body.
"It's... so much," she whispered.
"Now comes the hard part," Azel said, stepping closer so his shadow overlapped hers. "You have to compress your magic around your heart into a circle. That's how you enter the First Circle. It's fine if you can't do it at once — it usually takes—"
But he stopped mid-sentence.
Because the air had just changed.
It was subtle at first — like the faint pull before a tide turns but it grew heavier, more potent, until the hairs on the back of his neck rose.
The space around her shimmered faintly, the mana thickening until it almost hummed.
'She's already doing it.'
Edna wasn't even looking at him anymore.
Her eyes were closed, her breathing slow, and her hands rested lightly over her heart as if guarding something precious.
Azel could feel the rotation beginning — the delicate yet forceful shaping of raw mana into the perfect, unbroken loop of the First Circle.
Most mages took hours to even sense the proper compression point; Edna had found it within minutes.
Well that was her Mana Genius talent at work, who would have guessed that the Second Empress would be a natural genius at using Mana?
He leaned back against the wall, arms folding loosely across his chest.
"Of course," he murmured under his breath, almost smiling. "She's not normal."
But he knew better than to interrupt, there were ways to interrupt a mage when they were making their circle but the rebound could kill the Mage in question.
Breaking that kind of deep focus could shatter progress. So, with the quiet ease of someone accustomed to balancing multiple priorities,
Azel stepped away, giving her space to complete the work.
There was something else he'd been meaning to do — and the timing couldn't be better.
He slipped a hand into his inventory, pulling out a single card.
Unlike the warm orange hue of Lillia's summoning card, this one was a deep, glossy black, its surface traced not with lines but with interlocking circles that seemed to shift when viewed from different angles.
'Finally.'
"Summoning cards are the best thing that's ever happened to me," he muttered, glancing back at Edna.
She looked utterly serene, sitting with her shoulders relaxed, the faint glow of magic surrounding her like moonlight on water.
Her silver hair was even getting more defined, and the impurities had started coming out in slow bursts.
He found himself staring for a moment too long before shaking his head.
This was no time to get distracted...
He crouched near the far wall, away from Edna's working field, and held the card between two fingers.
[Would you like to use 'Black Summoning Card'?]
"Yes."
The card lifted from his hand, hovering briefly before drifting to the floor.
The circles on its surface began to spin in opposite directions, faster and faster, until they blurred into a perfect black void.
"Come on," Azel said softly, voice edged with anticipation. "Warrior."
The air thickened immediately, carrying the charged stillness that comes right before a thunderstorm.
From the darkness blooming at the center of the card, a figure stepped forward.
At first, she looked like a nightmare given shape.
Her hair was a rich, deep violet that spilled around her shoulders like spilled ink.
She was a fraction shorter than Azel, yet her presence loomed taller.
Her eyes — completely black, without iris or white looked like they were pools that could swallow thought.
From her forehead, two horns curved upward, sharp and gleaming as obsidian. And the aura she carried was suffocating; she was dangerous in a way that transcended mere strength.
For a fraction of a heartbeat, Azel's muscles tensed — not from fear, but from instinct. She was stronger than him. Right now, she could kill him before he could even move.
Then she smiled.
"Master~" The word rolled off her tongue like honey, smooth and intimate.
And just like that, the horns vanished.
The black of her eyes dissolved into a bright, crystalline blue.
The oppressive aura faded, replaced by something warm and inviting.
Her violet hair remained, shining softly in the dim light, but she now appeared entirely human.
She wore a flowing black dress that shimmered faintly, its fabric reminiscent of silk spun from shadows.
The system's text scrolled in his vision:
[Congratulations! You have successfully summoned 'Medusa', The Vile Necromancer]
[Bond Level: 2]
[Type: Attack/Support]
[Special Trait: Soul Connection]
[Lillia recognizes you as her Eternal Master.]
Azel blinked.
'Bond level two already?'
When he summoned Lillia, he had to start at LV.0 and now they were at Bond Level Max, but Medusa had already started at two?
[It's because you're handsome, Host.]
"Eh?"
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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC60: A Being Who Nearly Destroyed The World
Chapter 60: A Being Who Nearly Destroyed The World
"Hey there," Azel said, forcing his voice to come out smooth despite the tension in the air.
Medusa tilted her head ever so slightly, her dark blue eyes meeting his.
For a brief moment, her expression was unreadable — predator or prey, conqueror or servant but then her lips curled into the faintest, most alluring smile.
She had to admit, her master's face was... beautiful.
Too beautiful.
His hair, a flur of silver that was tied into a ponytail, fell in a way that looked deliberate yet effortlessly natural.
And that voice, even with its rough undertones carried a warmth that seeped into her bones.
"Yes, Master~" Her tone flowed like honey over silk. "Please... take care of me."
"Thank you," Azel replied, trying to sound casual as if he wasn't standing in front of one of the most feared beings in recorded history. "Just make yourself at home."
As she walked past him, Medusa let her lashes fall and subtly drew in a breath.
Beneath the faint medicinal scent of his bandages, his aura reached out, it was a diferent kind of aura from everything she had seen until now.
It was strong and dangerous.
But not the kind of danger that came from cruelty — no, it was the sort that demanded respect, the sort that showed that he had power.
And that was strange.
She had lived centuries, met rulers, kings, warlords, heroes... but she had never felt an aura quite like his.
She liked it.
No — she loved it.
[Bond Level: 0 → 100]
Medusa eased herself onto the bed, her dress flowing like liquid shadows around her legs.
Without hesitation, she curled up beside Lillia — the sleeping girl whose breathing was slow and peaceful and let herself enjoy the sensation of having something warm, soft, and real beside her.
It had been centuries since she'd been allowed such a thing. Centuries since she'd been given comfort without having to take it by force.
The thought slipped into her mind like a knife — what if he throws me out when he learns what I've done?
She pushed it away, hugging Lillia just a little tighter.
Azel, meanwhile, sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes half-focused on nothing as he recalled everything he knew.
Medusa, The Vile Necromancer... She wasn't from this world — not exactly.
She was from another game by the same company, one whose absurd naming conventions were balanced only by the sheer quality of the worlds they built.
To Save the World.
Yeah, the name was bland, but the gameplay was brutal.
She had been the final boss — an absolute nightmare for players.
Her first phase alone took the average gamer a hundred attempts just to survive, let alone win. And when her health bar hit the halfway mark?
Her True Form emerged: the Queen of Spiders.
He'd caught a glimpse of that when summoning her — the black aura like midnight smoke, the eight jagged spider legs protruding from her back, each one glistening like freshly forged obsidian.
Even now, just recalling that moment, Azel's body reacted with a faint shiver. If he faced against her in that form, he might not survive.
The Queen of Spiders had been infamous for a reason. Her combination attacks, poison webs, and pure endurance made her more dangerous than even the final Child of the Sky in this world.
And now... she was on his side, it made him feel very confident for the Calamities.
'Open her Status,'
[Status Screen]
[Name: Medusa ???]
[Age: 200]
[Title:]
[The Being Who Nearly Destroyed the World]
[The Spider Queen had been a phenomenon — a walking calamity — who had lived for hundreds of years. She had researched, perfected, and unleashed ways to destroy the very fabric of life itself. When she finally acted, the entire planet trembled.
Continents fell into ruin. The once-green lands turned to ash. Billions perished. The oceans boiled away from entire coastlines. Only the continent of Diathran remained — her chosen throne. Any who dared to oppose her ended their days impaled upon her midnight spears, razor-sharp spider legs that struck faster than thought, piercing through flesh, steel, and soul alike.]
[Life and Mind]
[The only being in her world to wield both Aura and Mana in perfect harmony. They obeyed her as loyal servants, answering every call without hesitation. She was a symphony of power — vile, graceful, and deadly.]
[Master's Bond]
[She adores her new master and prays she will not be cast aside when her crimes are laid bare.]
[Class: Necromancer]
[Bloodline: ???]
[Bloodline Skills]
[Spider Summoning: From the smallest silkweaver to titanic armored arachnids, her summons could adapt to any role — assassin, guardian, scout. Evolution was their creed; survival, their art.]
[Mana Burst (EX): Condenses mana until it burns white-hot — a flame so pure it melts steel, shatters enchanted wards, and devours even the souls of the damned. No matter the foe, the white fire claims all.]
[Queen's Presence: One gaze is enough. Those caught in her sight feel their deepest fears claw to the surface. The stronger the will, the more violently it must fight to resist.]
[Queen Form: When she unveils her true self and lets her bloodlust bloom, most magic crumbles before her. Few survive long enough to regret staying.]
[Strength: 70 (B)]
[Speed: 60 (B)]
[Endurance: 60 (B)]
[Magic: 100,000 (S)]
[Passive Abilities: Mana Sense, High Regeneration, Authority of the Forsaken]
[Skills]
[Undead Spider Summoning (Max): Undead Spidders are beings that survive and evolve. They weave threads between life and death, hiding in silence until the moment they strike. No terrain hinders them; no fortress is safe.]
[Spider Web (Max): Silk spun from her hands is stronger than the hardest metal known. Magic slides off it like water. It captures the swift, restrains the mighty, and becomes a lifeline in the queen's escape.]
Azel exhaled slowly, lowering the status screen.
Across the room, Medusa stiffened.
His silence had stretched for too long.
Was he reading it?
Was he seeing everything?
Was he going to abandon her like everybody else had done until this point?
But he had a right to, even if she had turned a new leaf... She was still seen as Evil in her world.
"Medusa, come here," Azel said.
Her body moved before her mind caught up, slipping from the bed.
She didn't dare meet his gaze, her fingers curling into her skirt to keep them from trembling.
Who could imagine the Game's final boss trembling like that
"Erm... Master, I know you're angry with me, but I promise I'll be—"
She didn't finish.
Azel had pulled her down into his arms so suddenly she almost forgot to breathe.
Her face landed against his chest, and the scent she'd already found intoxicating now drowned her senses entirely.
His hand rested against the back of her head, it was steady and warm and there was no judgement in them, it was comfortable.
"It's fine," he murmured, voice low. "I don't have any problems with you. Just know that here... you're loved."
The words sank into her like sunlight thawing ice that had never melted in centuries.
Something inside her cracked open, and the darkness that had always been there suddenly felt less suffocating.
A slow, wicked smile curled her lips.
"Yes, Master~" she purred, her voice trembling with something far deeper than obedience. "I promise to serve you in mind, body, and soul~"
Then, leaning closer, her lips brushed against his ear.
"I love you. I love you so much~"
[Error... The Bond Bar has been broken]
['Medusa, The Vile Necromancer' is obsessed with you]
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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC61: Medusa's Goal
Chapter 61: Medusa's Goal
Was this truly the life of a handsome man?
Ever since he was little, he had wanted to be truly handsome, after all on Earth, if you were handsome and hit all the right checks, You could get any woman you wished with minimum effort.
That was just life on Earth and it was similar to life here too, if you were attractive and strong, you had the women but wasn't this a little too much?
Azel almost wanted to laugh at the thought, if he had been told that he would be picking women left and right in the past, he wouldn't believe it.
But right now he couldn't blame Medusa — even he would fall for the person who showed him genuine affection for the first time in two centuries.
That was how tragic her backstory was.
Although he didn't know much about it, he knew the game provided some depth to her character, and she didn't even know her full name, neither did the System.
But since she had a Bloodline related to spiders, Azel could guess that the contemplation that her father/mother was Human and the other was a monster could be correct, or there was a clan with this kind of bloodline and she was the last of them.
Medusa felt his hand slowly stroking through her hair, and an unbidden purr escaped her lips.
She couldn't even remember the last time someone had held her like this. She had no experience with love.
No first kiss, no tender moments under the moonlihgt.
This... this warmth was the first time she had ever truly felt it.
And she had to admit... it was beautiful.
She could finally understand why young maidens in her world would willingly sacrifice themselves for their beloved. It had happened quite a few times in her time and each time she couldn't understand why they would want to trade their lives for that of a man.
If she were in that position now, she would do it without hesitation.
Her chest rose and fell slowly, and she inhaled his scent again.
It made her feel hot, restless... almost like her body was already urging her to mate with him, to bear his children, to belong to him completely.
'I need to calm down,' She thought to herself, 'You're the Queen of Spiders and someone who nearly destroyed the world before you were defeated... What would your enemies think if they saw you flustered like a cute little girl?'
"You have soft hair, Meda," Azel said calmly.
A blush threatened to paint her pale cheeks — had she heard that right?
"W-w-what... w-w-w-what did you c-call me?" she stammered, the words nearly tangling on her tongue.
She had forgotten about composing herself.
"Meda," he said again with a small smile. "I shortened your name. Do you not like it?"
"N-n-no...! I l-l-love it—!" she stammered again, and her heart thumped wildly, faster than it ever had in battle.
This... this was a feeling no victory over an enemy could compare to.
"Ahem!"
The deliberate cough made Medusa stiffen instantly.
Edna.
She had been sitting not far from Azel earlier, quietly meditating.
Her mana presence was noticeable, not anywhere near Medusa's level but she could tell from the subtle glances Azel had given her earlier that this woman was important to him.
It seemed this was her Master's lover.
"Did you tell me to make my circle so I wouldn't see you having the time of your life with another woman?" Edna asked, her tone sharp but not venomous.
Azel, however, didn't even flinch.
"This is my new summon, Medusa," he explained evenly. "She'll be acting as my personal maid from now on. Edna, please be nice to her. And having the time of my life? I'm just comforting her. Or... do you trust me so little?"
Medusa caught it — the subtle change.
Edna's entire demeanor shifted in an instant, it took a complete 360.
"I-I see," she said, almost flustered. "It's only natural for a woman to feel insecure when another woman is in the arms of her lover."
She extended her arms for a hug of her own but Azel waved her off.
"You know, you should head to the bathroom to cleanse the impurities," Azel said casually.
Edna glanced at herself, startled, as if just noticing the faint residue clinging to her mana channels. She had seen it quite a few times, whenever a mage broke through, their bodies dispelled impurities and made them look younger.
Without another word, she hurried to the bathroom.
"Be right back," she called, closing the door behind her.
Inside, she let out a sigh.
The woman in his arms, Medusa was dangerous. Not because of her looks, but because Edna could feel it now.
That immense mana output... and she hadn't even formed a magic circle.
"Well... whatever," she muttered, washing the thought away for now.
Back in the room, Medusa eased slightly in Azel's embrace... but her jealousy burned hotter than before.
That was his lover.
If only she had found Master earlier, maybe she would have been his first lover. Her heart clenched at the thought.
'Will Master even accept another lover?' she wondered.
She shuddered slightly.
Strong men often took multiple wives, but... what if he was the type to stay loyal to only one? Would she be nothing more than a servant by his side forever?
"Master... was that your lover?" she asked at last, unable to hide the faint tremor in her voice.
"Yes," he replied simply.
Her grip on his sleeve tightened. "Master... if I wanted to be your lover... would you accept me?"
The silence stretched, heavy. Medusa felt her heart beginning to fracture —
"Of course," Azel said at last. "But... you'll have to show that you're very useful."
Her eyes widened.
Then they lit up like a fire sparking to life.
"Then I'll be useful. The most useful person alive... so I can become worthy of being Master's lover."
And then she hugged him tighter.
"I only belong to you Master, now and forever~"
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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC62: Rochel, The City Of The Holy
Chapter 62: Rochel, The City Of The Holy
A few days had passed since Medusa joined their little group, and in that short time, she had integrated herself so naturally that it felt like she had always been there.
Lillia, of course, wasted no time in claiming her.
From the first day, the little girl had run to Medusa with arms wide open, calling her "Mama" with a sincerity that could melt even the coldest heart.
Medusa had accepted it without hesitation, patting Lillia's head with the kind of gentle smile that belied the fact she was a once-feared tyrant from another world.
She'd even gone so far as to acquire a maid outfit — not just any maid outfit, but the kind that could make grown men forget their own names.
A crisp black dress with frilled white lace, stockings that stopped just above the knee, and a ribbon tied neatly at the collar.
Azel had told her several times that there was absolutely no need for her to dress like that — she was a summoned hero, not some household servant but Medusa had been firm.
"As your direct servant, Master, I must be mindful of my position," she'd said, bowing with elegance that was suspiciously well-practiced.
In her world, she'd learned that men had an unexplainable weakness for maids, she'd heard about many kings and even Emperors impregnating their maids.
And Medusa, being both shameless and strategic, fully intended to use that knowledge to her advantage — starting with her master.
She wasn't shy about imagining scenarios where he planted his seed while she was in uniform.
Azel suspected she was mentally writing a whole romance novel starring the two of them and he wasn't wrong.
Still, her arrival had been a blessing. Not only was she powerful — easily stronger than most warriors in the Empire but she had a surprisingly warm presence around Lillia, and even Edna had warmed up to her.
Their journey had taken them away from the capital.
The Emperor himself had given Azel permission to delay his official mission, telling him to "relax for a bit."
Azel, however, had a different destination in mind — Rochel City.
This wasn't just any stop. It was where the next heroine awaited him.
A very important one.
Saintess Rain.
Even before arriving in this world, back when she had only been a character in the game, Azel had admired her.
Rain had been portrayed as a kindhearted hero — the sort who would put her life on the line for the greater good without hesitation.
She'd been a bright light in a brutal story.
And she'd died horribly.
Accused of heresy, she had been burned at the stake while the so-called "hero" and her lover, Reinhardt had stood in the crowd, cheering the execution.
That moment had been when Azel truly realized the main character of this game was, to put it bluntly, an asshole.
Her death had more than just emotional consequences — in gameplay terms, losing the Saintess meant healing became harder, and potion prices skyrocketed.
But Azel's reasons for wanting to save her went far beyond convenience.
He wanted to give her a different ending.
He'd done his research. He knew the exact chain of events that led to her downfall — and it started with her mother's illness.
If he could save her mother now, Rain would avoid the depression and missed opportunities that had delayed her rise to sainthood.
And so, here they were.
The carriage rattled to a slow stop before the gates of Rochel City.
The gate guards took one look at Azel and straightened their backs.
"Welcome to Rochel City, Sir Azel," one guard said warmly. "It's a pleasure to have you here. May the blessing of the Goddess be upon you."
The massive gates swung open, and the carriage rolled inside.
Rochel City was a marvel — a bustling hub of trade and faith, the largest trading city in the Empire and home to the Holy Church.
Almost every building bore a symbol of the Goddess, and the air itself seemed steeped in devotion.
Merchants called out their wares from colorful stalls, pilgrims walked in prayerful groups, and the streets were alive with the scent of baked bread, incense, and salt from the nearby river docks.
"Master, are you famous?" Medusa asked curiously, peeking out the window.
After all, the way the gate knights had greeted him with such respect wasn't something you saw every day.
Before Azel could answer, Edna spoke up, her voice brimming with pride.
"Of course. Believe it or not, your master is the son of the Sword Saint — and one of the strongest swordsmen in the Empire."
Azel blinked.
'When did I become that?'
Still... she wasn't wrong. Mastering the Dragon Saint style completely did put him on par with legendary figures.
"The Sword Saint?" Medusa's eyes lit up.
She remembered a man by that title from her own world — a perverted old warrior who had once tried to peek under her skirt.
He had succeeded.
She had killed him.
Brutally.
'After all, only my master can see below or touch me.'
But for all his flaws, that old man had been a true force of nature with a sword — strong, impossibly fast, and wielding techniques that defied human limits.
He'd even known how to harness the planet's rotation in his strikes.
And yet, Medusa was certain her master could surpass even him, given time.
"You can stop the carriage," Azel said suddenly.
The driver pulled to the side of the road.
Azel stepped down, brushing the dust from his cloak.
"I have something to do. You three can rent an inn. Medusa, meet me at the fountain later."
"Okay," all three replied at once.
They split up, the women heading toward the heart of the city while Azel took a side road.
His path was etched clearly in his mind — a straight shot to the marketplace where the Saintess's mother would be working.
He had played it in her backstory after all since the game did show a part like this.
By this point in the original timeline, her illness would have entered its first phase — fever, fatigue, and a gradual paling of the skin.
The cure was simple if caught early. That was his mission today.
The marketplace was as lively as he remembered from the game — vendors shouting prices, children weaving between stalls, and the air thick with the aroma of roasted meat, spiced wine, and fresh fruit.
Azel recognized the street immediately.
The Saintess's mother's stall was supposed to be at the very end.
He wove through the crowd, eyes scanning each vendor until —
There.
Only... she wasn't the sickly, pale woman he'd been expecting.
Instead, a lively woman stood behind the stall, her long blond hair catching the sunlight, her blue eyes bright and alert.
She was a clear reflection of the Saintess — her beauty undeniable.
Her posture was strong, her hands moving with practiced ease as she arranged goods.
There was no sign of illness at all.
"Oh, a new customer?" she asked when she noticed him approaching.
Her voice was warm, almost musical.
Then she tilted her head. "Are you a noble, perchance?"
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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC63: The Saintess Is A Regressor?
Chapter 63: The Saintess Is A Regressor?
Azel stood frozen for the briefest moment, blinking once to make sure what he was seeing was real.
This... was truly her?
The Saintess's mother, in the original game, was supposed to be pale, weakened, her beauty dimmed by the slow advance of illness.
She would spend her days at a stall, coughing into a rag, pushing through the pain so she could sell enough to buy bread.
That was the trigger for the Saintess's arc.
Heal the mother, the daughter joins the path of sainthood.
Simple.
But the woman before him was nothing like that image.
She was vibrant.
Blonde hair gleaming like wheat under sunlight, blue eyes clear and lively, skin without the faintest shadow of sickness.
Not even the faint rasp of a cough.
She stood behind her stall selling neatly folded clothes, every movement practiced and graceful.
That... wasn't supposed to happen.
Azel coughed lightly to cover his hesitation and decided to adapt.
"Morning, ma'am. You're looking quite beautiful today," he said with the kind of easy confidence that came naturally when he was speaking the truth.
Her lips curved into a warm, practiced smile — the smile of someone who knew how to put customers at ease.
She was experienced in her department.
"Why, thank you, Mr. Noble," she replied.
Azel chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm not a noble."
His gaze dropped briefly to his attire — a dark, tailored coat with subtle embroidery, boots polished enough to show faint reflections.
Okay... he could see why she thought that.
"Anyway, I'm looking to buy clothes for a friend."
"Oh? Is it for a young lady?" she asked, tilting her head in a way that somehow suggested she was already picturing him with her daughter.
And she really was, this was a handsome young man, he looked like he was strong.
"Yes," Azel said without hesitation.
It was for Medusa, after all.
She'd been insisting on wearing that maid outfit everywhere, claiming it was her "uniform as a servant," but Azel knew the truth — she enjoyed the reactions it caused.
Besides it wasnt like it was bad but he just wanted her to have more variations of clothes to pick from.
He began picking through the neatly arranged clothes.
Shirts, blouses, light tunics — something practical for traveling, yet casual enough that Medusa wouldn't stand out too much in public.
Shorts too, because for some reason the weather here had decided to lean toward warm afternoons lately.
He deliberately chose sizes slightly larger than necessary — better too big than too small at least that's what his mother had told him during his time on Earth.
'If it's a bit bigger, they can grow into it,' She had said and Azel had to admit, it was a solid plan.
When he was done, he had ten sets of shirts and shorts neatly stacked on the stall counter, with a variety of different wears.
"That will be fifty silver coins," she said pleasantly.
Azel reached into his coat and pulled out a gold coin instead.
"Keep the change," he said, sliding it into her palm.
Her fingers were warm, smooth — definitely not those of someone struggling to make ends meet or suffering from a sickness, maybe a Saint healed her?
But he highly doubted it, even in this City that respected the Goddess, the Saints and Clerics that could heal valued money as a second after their goddess.
So could it be the Saintess unlocked her hidden abilities earlier?
Her eyes widened slightly before she laughed softly.
"Oho~ Mr. Underground Noble, is it? Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. And may the goddess bless your path."
He gave a small nod, satisfied.
A good first impression was important — especially if he still intended to involve her in the Saintess arc somehow.
But then —
The calm atmosphere shattered.
"Mother, what are you doing talking to a man?"
The voice was sharp, dripping with malice.
Azel's head turned automatically toward its source and froze.
She was... beautiful, yes, but not in the way he remembered from the game.
The Saintess he knew had always worn modest clothing, her beauty understated, her presence gentle yet unshakable.
The girl standing before him was dressed in a skimpy, low-cut top that clung so tightly he could see the outlines of her unnaturally large chest.
Her skirt was little more than a strip of fabric, showing off hips that swayed as she approached.
There was no gentle grace in her movements — only calculated provocation and although she sounded like she hated men, she liked the lecherous gazes moved her way.
Her hair and eyes matched the woman behind the stall, confirming their relation.
But the aura? Completely different.
'No... this isn't her,' Azel thought, baffled.
The girl's gaze raked over him like she was assessing whether he was worth the trouble of insulting.
[Ding... The System has confirmed that the Saintess is a Regressor and has the backing of a divine entity.]
Azel's eyebrows shot up. 'A regressor? That... explains a lot.'
Regressors were dangerous variables.
They knew more than they should, acted ahead of events, and often twisted the story in ways the original script couldn't account for.
But for the Saintess — his favorite heroine to be one? That was... annoying.
It also explained her outfit, her attitude, the way she looked at him like he was an insect standing in the way of her plans.
Her lips curled slightly, as if she'd found some amusing flaw in him.
"Thank you for the help, ma'am," Azel said to the mother, deliberately ignoring the daughter. "I hope to see you again later."
He turned, already writing Rochel off in his mind.
There went his reason for coming here.
He wasn't about to waste time trying to save someone who already thought she was ten steps ahead of him — especially not someone backed by a divine entity who was most probably the goddess.
"Hey, you," the Saintess's voice snapped from behind him.
He sighed and turned.
She was closer now, her shadow almost overlapping his.
She had to tilt her head slightly to meet his eyes — she was shorter than him, but the confidence in her posture made it seem like she thought she was looking down at him.
"I don't like your lecherous eyes moving all over my mother," she said, her tone accusatory. "And checking me out too."
Azel blinked at her slowly.
That was... not what had happened.
But arguing with this kind of person was like pouring water into a broken jar — it wae completely pointless.
"Stay away from here," she added, folding her arms beneath her chest in a way that was clearly meant to emphasize it.
He tilted his head.
"No. I have to come back later. If you can't handle that..." His voice dropped into a flat, dismissive tone. "...then fuck off."
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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC64: The Saintess's Mistake
Chapter 64: The Saintess's Mistake
– Rain's POV -
The silver haired young man's back was broad and confident as he walked away.
It shouldn't have bothered me.
And yet, as he walked away after telling me — quite bluntly to fuck off, I couldn't summon a single clever retort.
My jaw stayed tight, my nails biting into my palms.
How dare he?
I was the Saintess, even if I was a push over in my past life, I had the power to destroy everything he held dear in an instant, even though I hadn't gained my full power back, it should be enough to deal with a common man.
[Well, I like his guts.]
The voice wasn't my own.
It flowed into my mind like a ripple across still water — gentle, melodic, yet carrying a weight that made my chest tighten.
The Goddess.
Her voice had first come to me right after I regressed.
Before I regressed I had only been able to pray to the goddess but now due to the blessing I received before I regressed, I could speak with her freely.
I remembered that moment all too clearly — the aftertaste of ash, the sharp sting of betrayal, and the suffocating feeling of flames eating away my flesh.
Yes... I had died.
In my past life, I had reached the academy and joined Reinhardt — the so-called hero that the Church announced.
Together with my comrades, we fought through the First, Second, and Third Calamities.
We bled, we starved, we sacrificed.
And then, right before the Fourth...
The man I called my lover.
The man I trusted with my life.
The man I had once been foolish enough to give my maidenhood to —
let them accuse me of heresy.
And stood by while they burned me alive.
He didn't even try to save me.
No.
He watched and even cheered for them.
He wasn't even a good hero.
Always relying on us, never standing at the front when it truly mattered.
We sacrificed ourselves so he could keep breathing, and he repaid us with cowardice.
I had screamed until the flames claimed my voice.
And the last thing I heard was Reinhardt calling me "a danger to the cause."
Pathetic.
This time would be different.
'Flare... Eve... they're all alive in this world,' I thought with a quiet, bitter smile. 'I'll save them this time. I won't let us die for a fraud.'
A Saintess's duty was to follow the hero.
But if the "hero" was a fraud who led the world into ruin, why should I obey?
No.
In this life, I would find someone worthy.
Someone I could shape into a true hero — one who would stand at the front when the sky burned and the ground split.
Someone like... Azel Thorne, the son of the Sword saint.
He wasn't present in my past life but the moment I had healed my mother I knew this world was not going to be the same as the past but he was here now...
'Just one man,' I told myself. 'I can tolerate at least one man. Even after everything Reinhardt did, even after every touch that felt like a chain around my neck, I can at least put my faith — just a sliver into someone else.'
We would face the calamities together.
And we would win.
[I still think your plan has a lot of flaws,] the Goddess's voice hummed, carrying the faintest trace of amusement.
I sighed.
She could be infuriating at times — like a child who enjoyed poking holes in my carefully laid plans.
Like it wasn't the future you that said I should return to the past to find someone worthy?
[Yes. But you've already flopped your plan, foolish girl.]
That made me blink.
What do you mean?
Before she could answer, a familiar voice called out.
"Elga?"
I turned to see a market woman rushing toward me and Mother, her apron swinging as she moved.
Her eyes were glinting, her face stretched into a grin that could only mean gossip.
Elga was one of Mother's oldest friends.
I'd seen her around since childhood, always the first to know anything worth knowing in Rochel.
"Hehe~ Guess what, Hilda?" she said, practically bouncing on her feet.
Mother raised a brow. "What happened?"
"The prodigy Azel showed up in Rochel today."
My heart skipped.
Azel.
He's here.
I almost wanted to throw my fists into the air like some giddy child.
This was perfect. I could finally put my plan into motion —
I just needed to change into something less... well... distracting, and then I'd go find him.
"They said he was going to the market," Elga continued, "and he just left now. So I wondered if he came to your stall."
'No...' The word slipped through my mind like a stone sinking into dark water.
[You've doomed both of us, idiot,] the Goddess's tone was flat, but I could almost picture her covering her face in exasperation.
Elga leaned forward conspiratorially. "He has silver hair too. You can't miss him."
Mother's eyes flashed with sudden realization.
"Yes, he bought something from me earlier. Said he'd be back later." She smiled faintly, then looked almost thoughtful. "So he wasn't lying when he said he wasn't a noble, huh?"
Then her gaze shifted to me.
"But you were rude to him..."
Her words struck deeper than they should have.
I hadn't known...
I couldn't exactly tell her the truth — that he was supposed to be the cornerstone of my new future.
That I needed him more than I'd needed anyone in either lifetime.
I kept my expression carefully neutral.
[You can still reconcile,] the Goddess offered gently. [But I could feel his disappointment the moment he saw you.]
That made my stomach knot.
Disappointment?
Did he not like me?
[I believe it was your dressing.]
Oh.
Right.
I glanced down at myself.
The top I wore clung too tightly, emphasizing my chest far more than was necessary.
My skirt was short enough to earn stares.
The outfit was — if I were being brutally honest a deliberate rebellion from my first life, where modesty had been a prison.
I wanted to look different, not like a push over...
But... Azel's eyes hadn't lingered on me with desire.
No.
If anything, they'd looked at me with the same weary exasperation you might give a spoiled child throwing a tantrum in the middle of the street.
It made something cold settle in my chest.
I could still fix this.
I would fix this.
He was my ticket to a brand new life!
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EXTRA'S REBIRTH: I WILL CREATE A GOOD ENDING FOR THE HEROINESC65: A Different Man
Chapter 65: A Different Man
"Uhm... Goddess, what do you think men his age like?" I muttered as I tore through my wardrobe, flinging clothes onto the bed in a growing pile of fabric chaos.
It was useless... How much shit did I buy? Why is it so hard to find modest looking clothes? It's only been a year since I regressed.
In my first life, this sight would have been impossible.
Back then, we were poor — scraping by because Mom's illness scared customers away from our stall.
Half the time, my clothes were patched in so many places that the original fabric barely showed through.
I had been ashamed, but I hid it, after all doing good was what I could do best.
I had worked extra jobs for a little bit of Ares and suffered, even though no man touched me, the gazes of lecherous men felt like they were unraveling my clothes each time they glanced at my body.
It was fucking uncomfortable but I persevered... Because those were the traits of a good person.
Now? Now we were well-off enough that I actually had a wardrobe to make a mess of.
And apparently, I'd filled it with revealing clothes — lace-trimmed tops, skirts too short for public decency, and dresses that clung like second skin.
I cursed myself for that.
I just didn't want to look anything like I did in my past life, it haunted me in my dreams.
Then cursed him for not being the kind of man who liked these clothes like all the others.
Because men were the same, weren't they?
They'd smile and pretend, but in the end, they'd just want to bury their faces in your breasts, use you to satisfy their lust, and toss you aside when they'd had their fill.
That was how problematic they were.
[Using your ex-lover as the basis for all men is feminist in the worst way. As a Saintess chosen by me, you should hold yourself to a standard of equality.]
I rolled my eyes.
"Easy for you to say," I muttered, pulling a silky crimson top out of the pile before throwing it back. "You didn't have to watch him destroy everything we fought for in the future."
Because Reinhardt — my so-called hero, my lover, the man who swore to protect me hadn't just betrayed me.
He'd let them accuse me of heresy. He'd let them burn me alive.
And that was after I'd bled for him through three calamities.
I would never forget.
Never forgive.
If he had a thousand people hating him, I would be among them... If he had a hundred... I would be among them... If he had ten... I would be one of them... If he had one... That would be me.
And if there were none? That meant I had died.
Still...
"Anyway..." I muttered, finally fishing out something I would have worn back then — a pale cream blouse and a loose skirt.
I held them up with a sigh. I hated these kinds of clothes now.
They reminded me of my past self — the girl who'd smiled even as the people she loved were used up and discarded.
Even the me at the church were no different from Reinhardt, they were all pretending to be Saints.
But... for the sake of the new hero I intended to raise, I'd make an exception.
Just this once.
I stripped down until I stood in only a black bra and matching panties.
My reflection stared back at me from the mirror, the light catching on pale skin free of the marks Reinhardt used to leave on me like ownership stamps.
I looked... different now.
Whole.
Untouched.
And I intended to keep it that way.
But the girl in the mirror still carried the same eyes — the ones that had watched friends burn.
I dressed quickly, the blouse hanging loose enough to hide my figure but not so shapeless it erased me entirely.
A compromise.
A trap wrapped in humility.
"Only once," I whispered to myself as I tied my hair back. "I'll do this only once."
Back at the stall, a few customers milled around — mostly women.
I slipped behind the counter and busied myself with helping them, letting my mother take the lead.
"Look at you being all humble," Mom said, patting my head like I was still a child.
I smiled.
I was willing to be humble — for her. In my first life, I'd lost her to illness far too early.
That grief had been one of the weights that dragged me toward the pyre.
This time, I'd protect her.
Always.
A sweet, lilting voice cut through my thoughts.
"Papa... did you say you were going to buy new clothes for me?"
I turned toward the sound — toward him.
Azel.
He stood just a few paces away, holding a little girl with soft pink hair in his arms.
They looked... natural together.
Like something out of a painting — strong arms supporting delicate innocence.
My stomach tightened.
'Wait... he already has a child?'
[Idiot girl, he's still pure.]
I blinked. "...Pure?"
[Yes. He's still a virgin. That girl isn't his daughter — at least not by blood.]
I let out a slow breath, my chest easing just a little.
Maybe she was adopted.
Or... something else.
The goddess turned silent but truthfully she was deep in thought.
['More importantly... I'm surprised. He's able to summon a being not originally from this world without my knowing. That's... not normal. I'm really interested in you, Azel Thorne.']
I watched as he approached our stall, silver hair catching the afternoon light.
His eyes swept over the displays briefly before flicking toward Mom and then... toward me.
It wasn't a long look.
Just a moment.
But there was a nod, subtle and almost imperceptible.
Approval.
[He feels satisfied now,] the goddess murmured. [Also... for some reason, I think he likes you.]
'Likes me?!' I hissed under my breath.
[Just an observation.]
Azel didn't say a word to me.
He turned fully toward my mother, resting the pink-haired girl more comfortably against his arm.
"I'm looking for clothes for her," he said, voice low and steady. "Something comfortable, easy to move in. I got a bunch of dresses for her before but I want something more."
Mom lit up instantly, moving around the stall to pull a few options from the shelves.
I stayed silent, watching him.
His eyes were sharp but not cruel, his stance relaxed but ready to move at a moment's notice.
And despite myself, I caught the faintest trace of warmth in the way he adjusted the girl's position when she shifted, like he'd do anything to make sure she felt secure.
Was this... really the man I'd been looking for?
Why wasnt he like Reinhard and all the other bastards in the church?
What makes him so different?
[Note: Rain's POV is ending here, I just wanted us to view things from her perspective, Hehe it's been a while since I wrote first person POV]
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