The Game's Extra: Azhriel Odyssey

"The one you spoke of just before," Cynthia said, trying hard to stay calm. 'This guy…'

"What are you talking about?" Azhriel asked again, frowning slightly. His voice and face looked genuinely confused.

The Queen clenched her fists, clearly annoyed. 'I swear, if we just hit him a little, he'll start talking!' she grumbled in her mind.

Crack.

The armrest of her throne creaked loudly from the pressure of her grip.

'No, no—please calm down, Queen,' Cynthia said quickly, trying to keep things from exploding.

With a tired sigh, she turned back to Azhriel.

"Fine, we won't talk about that now. But even so, we can't allow you to form a bond with the Queen. So, if you have something else in mind—"

"The Ancient Egg," Azhriel said, cutting her off without hesitation.

Crack!

The Queen's eyes lit up with fury. Her hand slammed into the other armrest, shattering it completely.

"Bastard!" she shouted, her voice booming like thunder as her magic began sparking in the air.

"No—sister, please! Don't forget what I said earlier!" Cynthia nearly cried as she tried to calm the situation again.

Azhriel looked at them with a blank face, completely unbothered.

'How petty… for a Queen.'

"I know he just thought something rude!" the Queen shouted, pointing at him. "That arrogant brat! How dare you speak to me like that?!"

Azhriel turned his head to the side, clearly ignoring her.

"Hey! Don't turn away when I'm talking to you!"

Smack!

"Shut up!" Cynthia said loudly, her voice echoing in the throne room.

The room went silent.

Even the Queen froze, shocked. It was rare—very rare—for Cynthia to raise her voice like that.

"Now, let me talk. And both of you—listen," she said firmly.

The Queen and Azhriel both gave short nods.

"Azhriel, you said you want the Ancient Egg," Cynthia said. "But I assume you already know what the problem with it is?"

"Yes," Azhriel replied calmly. "It hasn't hatched since it was found."

"And you still want it?" she asked. "Do you really think you can make it hatch?"

Azhriel shrugged lightly. "Who knows? I can try."

"Haa, fine," Cynthia said with a quiet sigh.

"But, Prophet," the Queen said, concern flickering in her voice, "what about the oath of our ancestors? They clearly stated that only the Boy of Light could awaken the egg. The Elders will definitely raise objections."

"I know," Cynthia nodded. "But that child already formed a bond with Velkarth. So whatever the old ones say doesn't matter anymore. I'll take full responsibility."

"…Fine," the Queen said after a pause. "I trust you."

Swirl.

With a smooth motion of Cynthia's hand, an egg appeared in her palm. It looked simple—completely white, with no markings at all.

'Hmm… why does it feel like she already knew I wanted this?' Azhriel thought for a moment, but as the egg floated gently toward him, he pushed the thought aside.

As his hands touched it, a cold sensation ran through his fingertips. The surface was smooth, almost like glass.

Then he looked toward the Queen. "Miss Queen, can you reinforce this space so the energy doesn't leak outside? I'll trade some valuable information for it."

The Queen raised a brow, thinking for a moment… then nodded.

"…Fine."

Snap.

With a snap of her finger, the space rippled as as the barrier in the barrier in the white world was reinforced.

******

Why was this egg special?

Why couldn't it hatch, even after all these years?

It was a mystery that had left many scholars, priests, and prophets scratching their heads.

Even the elders of Noarsis—beings as old as legends themselves—had no answer. The egg had remained untouched, unchanged, as if frozen in time.

Even Azhriel hadn't known the truth at first. It had taken him months of study, testing, and careful gathering of hidden knowledge from old records and sealed archives in the game.

What he discovered made the egg even more fascinating. And dangerous.

But that led to another question:

Why would Azhriel choose this egg—a dormant, silent thing shrouded in mystery—instead of some obviously powerful and fearsome familiar like the others?

The answer was simple.

Loyalty.

From the very beginning, Azhriel had said it himself: he wasn't here to show off strength. He wanted a companion he could trust.

Then, you might say. Doesn't a soul bond prevent betrayal?

Yes. It does.

In almost most cases.

But not all.

And that "almost" was what Azhriel refused to gamble with.

In his heart, he didn't want a servant bound by magic or contract. He wanted a friend—a true partner who stood by him not because of some oath or chain, but by choice.

The egg… this egg… was special in one more way.

It had never hatched for anyone because it refused to obey those who only sought power.

It needed something more.

It needed someone who wouldn't try to control it.

And that's why Azhriel was here now.

Not to awaken a beast. But to earn its trust.

And that wasn't all.

To finally hatch…

The egg needed something rare. Something not found easily across the realms—not power, not bloodlines, nor ancient runes.

It needed purity.

The purity of mana.

That was the final key.

Azhriel had discovered this after much research. The egg, crafted through ancient divine rites, would never respond to one who had corrupted, unstable, or impure mana.

And that was why Azhriel was confident.

He didn't just have strong mana.

He had one of the purest mana signatures of the entire generation.

Even Headmaster had once commented on it, saying,

"Your mana feels like untouched snow under a starlit sky… eerie, but flawless."

It was also why Raymond had succeeded in one of the alternate game scenarios.

Light, his primary element, was one of the purest known forms of energy. Combined with his unique bloodline, it had allowed him to awaken the egg.

But now…

Azhriel was going to do it a different way.

He slowly reached out, his gloved hand brushing against the cold shell.

The surface was smooth—almost glass-like—yet something shimmered beneath it, like gentle ripples across water.

Then—

Frost bloomed.

Azhriel's mana, icy and refined, began to seep into the egg.

It wasn't aggressive. It didn't force its way in. Instead, it wrapped around the shell, whispering in silence, cradling it with care.

The egg shimmered faintly.

Then…

It floated—rising gently from his palm, suspended in the air.

A soft mist spread from its base as frost laced across its surface like delicate lacework. The shimmering pattern almost looked like wings, etched from ice and light.

Minutes passed, while Azhriel brows furrowed in focus. It took all his mana already, though ever prepared he had already spread high grade mana crystal around him.

This, absorbing the pure mana rapidly in the air, he used. It wasn't a normal process. Blood dripped from his nose and eyes from the mana exhaustion as his head busted with searing pain.

And finally the egg, responded.

The Queen of Noarsis, who had watched with crossed arms, blinked in surprise.

"…It's responding," she muttered.

Cynthia narrowed her eyes. "No… it's more than that. It's waking."

A pulse.

The egg released a soft glow, dim at first… then brighter.

Thump.

A heartbeat.

Everyone in the space froze.

Thump.

Another pulse echoed, this time stronger—louder. It wasn't just a beat. It was a call. A soul slowly stirring awake after a long, long sleep.

Hair on Cynthia's neck stood.

Zankeil, who watched from the outer boundary of the barrier, from another outside the space, narrowed his eyes. "This feeling… it's like something older than time is waking up…"

Azhriel stepped back, giving space as the egg floated higher.

Then—Crack.

A single fracture ran along the shell.

Light poured through the crack, but it wasn't harsh.

It was gentle, almost holy, yet mixed with a strange coldness that didn't feel painful. A balance of peace and silence.

Crack. Crack.

More lines formed.

And then—

The egg burst open, shattering into glimmering snowflakes and soft glowing mist.

Floating in the air, curled like a newborn pup, was a creature. Small, almost fragile in appearance—but everyone who saw it could feel the immense presence radiating from it.

Its body was smooth and covered in silver-white fur with faint icy patterns running along its sides.

Wings—still too soft to stretch fully—were folded tight on its back. Two small horns peeked from its head, curling ever so slightly.

And its eyes—

They slowly opened, revealing a stunning shade of crystal blue, deeper than any ocean, sharper than any blade, similar to Azhriel.

The Dragon stared at Azhriel.

For a long, quiet moment… nothing happened.

Then—

The small dragon drifted down, Azhriel carefully held her in hands and gently placed its head against Azhriel's chest.

Yep, he didn't know how but he already knew it was she.

"Papa."

"What?"