The Game's Extra: Azhriel Odyssey

If we are strictly talking about a game, the first event always decided everything.

To keep the players hooked, it would first build up its world slowly, then hit them with something huge. Something that started with a bang. A straight fight from the very beginning.

That was how the first event of Legends of Aldoria, the game that had taken the world by storm, began.

The opening scene threw the protagonist into a direct clash against a man corrupted by demonic energy.

At the same time, hidden away in the shadows where no one was looking, a dangerous raid was taking place.

Azhriel thought back to it.

On the surface, it looked like nothing more than a fight against a corrupted man. But from his own perspective, he knew better.

That first event during the banquet had only been a trap, a distraction. A perfect bait.

And because of it, the demons had been able to take something important with ease.

Azhriel swirled the drink in his glass, his gaze fixed on the two men standing at the far side of the hall.

The lights in the banquet had been dimmed low, leaving only the glow of chandeliers and mana lamps, as the stage was being prepared for the ball.

The two of them looked completely out of place.

One had messy green hair, the other brown, and the way they wore their suits was sloppy at best—as if they had been forced into them.

The green-haired one kept scratching at his neck over and over, twitching with an itch that wouldn't go away.

The brown-haired man stood more calmly, but the scowl on his face never left, like he was annoyed just to be there.

'So, the guinea pigs finally came,' Azhriel thought, his cold eyes narrowing for a moment before he hid it again behind his usual calm expression.

His attention shifted when a waiter approached with a tray of drinks. Azhriel stepped forward, stopping him with a faint smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Do you see that person there?" he asked softly, pointing casually toward the green-haired man.

The waiter glanced in the direction he pointed.

The moment the waiter's eyes turned away, Azhriel's fingers flicked something small—a white pill—into one of the glasses. It dissolved instantly, leaving no trace it had ever been there.

"Yes, sir, I see him," the waiter replied.

Azhriel slid a gold coin into the man's hand, leaning in just slightly.

"I have a task for you," he said quietly, his voice low and smooth, as if they were simply talking about the weather.

*****

"Ugh, just how long do we have to wait? I'm itching to spill the blood of these so-called nobles," the green-haired man muttered under his breath, leaning slightly toward the man beside him as they stood in the shadowed corner of the hall.

"Don't be impatient," the brown-haired one replied, his voice steady, though the deeper scowl on his face betrayed his own tension.

"That's what I'm saying," the green-haired one shot back with a frown. "How long until we get the signal? It's getting harder to hold back."

"Wait until the Archons and instructors leave," the brown-haired man said simply.

Just as his words faded, a waiter approached, holding a tray with drinks.

"No need," they both said in unison, refusing.

But the waiter didn't leave.

The brown-haired man—David—narrowed his eyes at him. "I said there's no need," he repeated, annoyance creeping into his tone.

"It's from Rodrick," the waiter said evenly. "He said it will be beneficial."

Both men froze for a moment, exchanging a quick glance. This wasn't part of their plan. But if it came with Rodrick's name, there had to be a reason.

David finally raised his hand to take a glass, only for the waiter to pull the tray back slightly.

David's scowl deepened. "What now?"

"No, sir. The left one is for you, while the right one is for him," the waiter explained calmly. "There's a different mix in each glass."

With a low grunt, David reached for the drink meant for him, while the green-haired man—Luke—took his own.

Clink.

The glasses touched the tray again after a single swallow, both of them finishing in one go. When they looked up, the waiter was already gone, vanishing back into the crowd as if he'd never been there.

David's gaze lingered on the empty space where the waiter had been, eyes narrowing. Something about this didn't sit right with him. However for now, he ignored it.

******

The spotlight bloomed at the center of the grand stage, drawing every gaze in the hall.

A hush fell over the chattering crowd as Alaric, the Headmaster of the Academy, stepped forward.

Behind him stood the Archons, their dignified presence like immovable mountains, and the instructors who had overseen the grueling entrance examinations.

Alaric's deep, steady voice carried through the hall, calm yet commanding.

"Good evening, new cadets of the academy. I trust you all are enjoying the ball," he began, his sharp golden eyes sweeping across the sea of fresh faces.

"The entrance exam has concluded, and with it, we have seen the potential, strength, and will of each one of you. Tonight, as tradition demands, I will announce the results of this year's entrance rankings."

The hall fell utterly silent. Even the music died down, leaving only the sound of his words.

Alaric raised a scroll in his hand. "These names are not simply numbers—they reflect the talent and effort shown during the exams. Let us begin."

"First place: Elizabeth Alden," Alaric announced.

All eyes turned toward her. Elizabeth, dressed in an elegant blue dress that brought out the glimmer of her sapphire eyes, stood with her usual calm, unshaken despite the whispering crowd.

Known as the granddaughter of a powerful Archon, she had proven in the exams that her talent needed no name to stand behind it.

"Second place: Arianne Crimson," Alaric continued.

Arianne, with her striking crimson eyes and flowing snow hair, known for her sharp, decisive swordplay and blood magic.

As Alaric looked at her, her eyes remained empty as she just nodded dimly.

"Third place: Raymond Dawnlight."

"Ugh, i shouldn't have fought with that idiot in the beginning." He groaned as looking at his third rank.

"Fourth place: Samuel Umbravane."

"Tch, I would have been first, if it wasn't for that draw." He clicked his tongue.

"Fifth place: Azhriel."

Heads turned once again. Azhriel, standing quietly at the side, took the attention with the same calm air he always carried.

He ignored the gazes.

"Well, that's one thing done. Let's focus on other one." He said as he vanished into the dark.

"Sixth place: Nyverra Arckels."

Nyverra, stood elegant and poised, with her black hair cascading down her back.

She had displayed tremendous sword skills on the exam, like one would expect from the grand daughter of Sword Saint.

"Seventh place: Sydelle Vistaria."

"I guess that not too bad." She muttered. Her charming viridian hair glinting as her held a mischievous glint.

"Eighth place: Alicia Burns."

It was a astounding thing that Alicia had placed this up in the ranks while had been using only her secondary element.

"Ninth place: Chloe Warrens."

Chloe smiled slightly as she listened her rank in the top ten.

"Now for tenth place its a tie." Alaric said.

He continued. "Tenth place: Kevin Hearts."

Kevin grinned when his name was called, unashamed of his rank. Though his laid-back nature fooled many, he was skilled with his earth affinity and unpredictable style, which caught more than one opponent off-guard.

"And lastly, also on the tenth place: Caelyn Lunaris."

Whispers rippled across the room as the young lady with soft cherry blossom hair, half-asleep even now, blinked slowly at hearing her name.

Despite her being in top ten, it seems she was interested in sleeping more than in attending a banquet.

Alaric lowered the scroll. "These are your top ten. However, let it be known—rankings are never permanent. They are only a measure of where you stand today, not where you may stand tomorrow. The academy is a crucible that will temper you all. Grow, strive, and surpass yourselves."

His words rang like steel, leaving a weight in the hall. Then he smiled faintly.

"And now, let the celebration continue."

With that, the music swelled again, and the hall returned to motion, though murmurs about the newly announced ranks filled every corner.

******

Meanwhile, behind the stage, Alaric was standing with the Archons, his eyes scanning the hall when a shadowed attendant rushed up to him. The man leaned close, whispering something urgently into Alaric's ear.

In that instant, Alaric's expression hardened, the calmness on his face vanishing like mist.

"Let's go," he ordered curtly, his voice sharp and cold. "We have important matters to discuss. Instructors, you're coming too."

Without another word, he turned, his cloak swirling as he walked away from the stage. The other Archons and instructors exchanged glances before following behind him.

A moment later, their figures flickered and vanished from sight, leaving the hall to the students and the ball continuing without their watchful presence.

And just like that, the biggest shields of the academy were gone.

Unnoticed, as in a far corner of the hall, two pairs of eyes lit up in anticipation.