Extra's Stories

Both Techno and Fate sat in the corner, arms crossed, legs crossed, as if they were just casually waiting for time to pass.

Philza had practically thrown them there after recovering from the heart attack they gave him.

To be fair… walking into a room and seeing your son and newly adopted kid impaled by sharp weapons was a valid reason to nearly collapse on the spot.

So, yeah. This was fair.

Two hours later, the punishment ended.

Techno stretched first, rolling his shoulders with a grunt. "Well, that was fun."

Fate cracked his neck, standing up lazily. "Honestly, I thought he'd keep us here longer."

During that time, Fate learned more about this world thanks to Techno.

This world was medieval, magic was almost nonexistent, and the only thing that resembled it was the Enchanting Table—an artifact that imbued weapons and tools with enhancements.

Fate filed that information away for later.

"I should look into that."

Philza crossed his arms, glaring at the two like a father scolding his kids for breaking something expensive.

"I'm disappointed in you two."

Techno and Fate both looked at him.

Techno, for once, had the decency to look guilty. Fate just raised a brow.

Phil sighed.

He stepped closer, kneeling down and placing a hand on both their shoulders.

"Look, I'm glad you two are still alive and unharmed," he said, his voice softer now. "But you can't keep doing this. What if one day one of you actually dies?"

There was a pause.

"So please… just keep it to a minimum next time."

Techno lowered his head slightly. "...Sorry, Phil."

Fate observed him quietly.

'Huh. I actually feel bad for making Phil worry. This world is weird.'

After that, they all sat at the dining table.

Phil had already prepared dinner—a simple meal of baked potatoes, steak, and carrot soup.

"You two should get a shower and change out of those bloodstained rags first before dinner, we'll wait," Phil said.

Techno and Fate exchanged a glance.

Then, without a word, they both got up and went to clean themselves first.

When they returned, the meal was decent at best.

Fate took a bite, chewing slowly.

5/10. Just… decent.

Still, he had more important things to focus on than food.

In a world with almost no magic, he had to start over—retrace his steps.

'Start.'

A system screen appeared before him.

Morgan, sitting next to him, glanced at it but didn't comment. The others were engaged in conversation, not paying much attention to his moment of deep thought.

Since I'm practically starting from scratch here… and I can't use my magic until I find a way to recover it…

That meant he had to focus on his skills—sharpening them, mastering them.

He had always been a jack of all trades, master of none, accumulating countless abilities, spells, and techniques but never truly mastering any of them.

That had to change.

He converted all his points into SP. He couldn't use magic, nor could he install his Class Cards for now, but he still had his Devil Arms and the Noble Phantasms he had collected.

After dinner, Fate wandered around the house, activating [Presence Manipulation] to make himself nearly invisible.

His goal? Testing how well he could erase himself.

As he moved through the halls, Techno—who had razor-sharp instincts—suddenly twitched and glanced in his direction.

But—

He didn't see him.

Fate stopped.

I see… my presence is hidden, but I still make sound. I still leave behind scent. Fingerprints. DNA. Evidence.

That was something to work on later.

For now, he returned to the spare room where he and Morgan were staying.

The moment he entered, Morgan immediately noticed his presence.

"You're back," she said, not even looking up.

Fate raised a brow. Of course, she noticed. We're linked.

"Did you find anything?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I didn't go far. There's still more I need to improve."

Morgan let out a frustrated sigh.

"This again…" she muttered. "I know you want more power, but would you at least get some rest?"

She gave him a pointed look.

"You haven't slept in days, Fate. It's starting to worry me."

Fate blinked.

"...Should I even care?" he muttered under his breath.

Morgan worrying about him? That's a first.

Morgan huffed. "Come on, just for tonight?"

Fate: "..."

A pause.

Then, finally, Fate exhaled.

"...Fine."

He moved toward his bed, only to suddenly feel arms wrap around his waist from behind.

He froze.

Morgan clung to him, pressing against his back.

His brow twitched.

Why is she so clingy all of a sudden?

He was about to comment on it—

Then stopped.

"Forget it."

He had more important things to focus on.

His thoughts drifted to a certain white-haired, stylish devil hunter—one who fought with an arsenal of weapons and different combat styles.

Fate smirked slightly.

"Maybe I should create my own styles."

Having too many skills led to inefficiency. If he separated them into styles, he could fully utilize everything he had.

A plan began to form in his mind.

The Next Day

Fate wandered through the storage rooms, rummaging through various materials—some common, some rare.

Every useful resource he found, he copied into his Reality Marble, storing them away for later.

Then, his gaze landed on something unexpected.

A light blue, shiny stone sat inside one of the chests, half-buried beneath a pile of diamonds.

Fate barely spared the diamonds a glance, casually pushing them aside as he reached for what truly caught his attention.

A piece of lapis lazuli.

"This… this is what I need."

The minerals in this world were different from those in other worlds.

Here, lapis lazuli wasn't just a decorative gem—it contained Magic Energy within it.

Just like how Redstone held electrical energy, lapis lazuli served as a natural mana source.

Fate smirked. Interesting.

He held the gem in his palm, focusing.

Using [Mana Control], he reached into the stone, pulling the raw Magic Energy from within.

A faint glow pulsed in his hand as the energy flowed into his body, gradually replenishing his depleted reserves.

It wasn't much, but he could feel the difference—his Magic Energy was recovering.

Then—

The once-vibrant blue stone dulled, its color draining away before crumbling into dust in his palm.

Fate glanced at the remaining lapis lazuli in the chest.

Without hesitation, he grabbed half of them and repeated the process.

By the time he finished, his mana reserves had reached 7%.

A slow start, but enough to use magic again.

"Now… now I can get more power."

Meanwhile…

Somewhere else in the house, Morgan was sitting calmly—until a sudden shiver ran down her spine.

She frowned.

"…Why do I feel like his idiocy just spiked up?"

Deep Inside the Mine

The rhythmic clang of metal striking stone echoed through the tunnels.

Fate was hard at work, swinging his weapon-turned-pickaxe, mining deep underground.

Using [Tracker] Mastery, he easily pinpointed the veins of lapis lazuli hidden beneath layers of rock.

With a quick study of the Enchanting Table, he had modified his Devil Arm: Nehala, engraving it with [Primordial Rune] to grant it Fortune II.

And now—

"Finally!"

With a final strike, the Lapis Ore shattered, sending a shower of blue gems cascading onto the ground.

Fate's icy-blue eyes gleamed as he grabbed the stones, immediately absorbing their Magic Energy.

A familiar rush of power coursed through his body.

His mana reserves swelled—slowly but surely, he was reclaiming what was rightfully his.

The once vibrant lapis lazuli dulled, turning into nothing but dust in his hand.

"Not enough."

Without wasting a second, Fate pressed on, delving deeper into the mine.

Later That Day – At the Dining Table

Morgan sat at the dining table, tapping her fingers impatiently against the wooden surface.

Philza and the others were already seated, but one person was missing.

Fate.

She had been waiting for him to show up, but as the minutes dragged on with no sign of him, the realization finally clicked.

'That idiot is off chasing power again.'

Of course. She should've known.

He had stayed up until 3 AM, working obsessively on refining his skills, and then had the audacity to use [Self Deception] so he could function on just two hours of sleep.

And now, he wasn't even here for lunch—making everyone wait.

Her beauty sleep had already suffered because of him.

And now this?

Techno walked into the room, shaking his head.

"Sorry, Phil, but I can't find him."

Philza let out a sigh, his expression troubled.

Just as he was about to respond, a familiar voice cut in.

"I think we should just forget about him for now."

Everyone turned their gaze toward Morgan, who had finally spoken up.

"Something probably caught his interest, so he won't be back until he gets it out of his system."

She sounded annoyed, but there was an underlying resignation in her tone.

Morgan picked up her fork, twirling it between her fingers before adding:

"Trust me. He once traveled 27,059 kilometers without rest just because his obsession was pulling him."

That got their attention.

Phil's brow furrowed. Techno tilted his head slightly, intrigued.

Morgan just sighed and took a bite of her food.

"Don't worry. He'll be back to normal once it's over."

Philza still seemed hesitant, but after a brief pause, he gave a small nod.

"I see… Well then, let's eat."

As everyone started on their meal, Morgan found herself watching Philza closely.

She could see it clearly now.

He genuinely cared.

But what she still didn't understand was why he had decided to let them stay.

Either way, damage control was needed.

Because that idiot soulmate of hers was still out there, doing something reckless—again.

In the Depths of the Ravine

A mop of white hair shifted as a lone bat flapped its wings, disturbed from its slumber.

Deep within a shadowed cavern, next to a glowing lava lake, Fate sat atop a large boulder, surveying his progress.

In front of him sat three full baskets of lapis lazuli, each gemstone radiating a faint magical aura.

"Now then."

He plunged his hand into the first basket.

The vibrant blue gems lost their luster instantly, crumbling into fine dust as their magic energy surged into his body.

His mana pool climbed—56% restored.

He turned to the second basket and repeated the process.

The surge was even stronger this time. His lost magic energy fully replenished.

A satisfied smirk played on his lips as he turned his gaze toward his weapon.

With a flicker of [True Eyes], his Devil Arm: Nehala was laid bare before him.

Nehala – Devil Arm (Pickaxe Form)

Fortune X Efficiency V Unbreakable Sharpness III Flame

"Good. That should make grinding even easier."

He had modified Nehala using [Primordial Rune], putting multiple enchantments to it, increasing the weapon's power.

A surge of power built within him, and he clenched his fist, condensing his newly restored magic energy.

"Now then... how the hell do I get out of here?"

His icy-blue eyes flicked upward, locking onto the gaping hole he had fallen through.

Trickster!

With a low crouch, he launched himself upward using [Slide Trickster], vaulting high into the air.

Midair, he double-jumped, gaining even more height.

Two [Chains of Heaven] shot from his palms, embedding themselves into the cavern walls.

With a swift flick of his arms, he propelled himself forward, bursting through the hole—

—and straight into a horde of monsters.

Fate crashed into the rubble, barely having a second to shake off the dust before his senses flared.

Zombies.

Skeletons with bows.

Giant spiders crawling out from the shadows.

And—

Multiple green, armless creatures with four legs, all turning toward him.

In the dim cave, surrounded by enemies, most people would have felt terror.

Fate?

He grinned.

Placing a hand over his face, he let out a low chuckle that quickly turned into a full-blown laugh.

"HahahahaHAHAHAHA!"

A wave of nostalgia hit him. This—this was just like the old days.

Slowly, he lowered his hand, a smile still etched onto his face. His long bangs cast a shadow over his icy-blue eyes.

In his left hand, a black spear, bound together from two shattered weapons—

Redgrave Le Fay: The Bounded Spear of Twisted Love.

A weapon that absorbed the very life of its victims.

In his right hand, a crimson spear, its surface inscribed with Primordial Runes, emitting a sense of death.

Gae Bolg: The Spear of Impaling Barbed Death.

A weapon capable of slaying even the undead.

His stance shifted.

The "Devil Never Cry" song played.

"Alright then… Let's have some fun!"

Meanwhile – Back at the House

Night had already fallen.

Morgan sighed inwardly, knowing she had to continue playing damage control.

If that idiot didn't show up by morning, things would definitely become a problem.

She slid under the covers, trying to finally get some rest.

Just as she was about to close her eyes—

A notification flashed in the corner of her vision.

You may not rest now, there is a dance battle nearby.

Her eyes snapped open.

"The heck!?"

Back in the Cave

♪ Bless me, with the, Leaf off of the tree...

Fate flipped backward, dodging three arrows as they whizzed past him.

Archer!

With [Blitz Draw] and [Lock-On], he hurled Gáe Bolg into the cluster of undead, the explosion illuminating the cavern in a flash of red light.

♪ On it, I see, The freedom reign...

The red spear snapped back into his hand.

Turning swiftly, he swung Redgrave Le Fay, cleaving through three giant spiders that had tried to ambush him.

Trickster!

He spun on his heel, deflecting a volley of arrows with precise spear movements.

Without missing a beat, he dashed forward, his two spears becoming a blur of death and destruction.

His left spear held the wish of an unrealized future.

His right spear was nothing more than a memory of the past.

And yet—he wielded both flawlessly.

♪ Praise to my father, Blessed by the water...

The battlefield was painted in carnage.

More and more monsters fell, unable to keep up with his relentless assault.

♪ Black night, dark sky, The devils cry.

Fate exhaled, spinning both spears in his hands.

Then, he turned sharply.

His eyes locked onto the next wave of enemies—

And with a reckless grin, he charged forward once more.

After a few hours.

"Fate!" she snapped, appearing beside Fate just as he drove Gae Bolg through the skull of a snarling zombie. The body convulsed before slumping lifelessly to the ground.

Fate turned his icy blue eyes toward her, brow furrowing. "Morgan? What the hell are you doing here?"

"What does it look like? Go back to the house. Now!" she demanded, her voice sharp with frustration. "Philza is worried sick about you!"

Fate tilted his head slightly, confusion flickering across his face. "Why should I care?"

Morgan stiffened. The cold detachment in his voice sent a shiver down her spine.

He really didn't care.

Fate still saw them—Philza, Techno, all of them—as strangers. To him, they weren't the people he once knew. They weren't the influencers he admired as a teenager. They were different—real, flesh-and-blood individuals, not the distant figures from his memories. And because of that, he kept them at arm's length, refusing to acknowledge the connection they could have.

Morgan felt an uncomfortable weight settle in her chest.

Philza had taken them in, given them shelter, looked after them. Even if she had no personal attachment to Philza, she had come to understand what it meant to be cared for unconditionally. It was something she had never experienced before. Her own father had cast her aside, leaving her in the hands of Merlin, that flowery bastard, before offering her as a pawn to another kingdom. And now, fate—or perhaps some cruel joke—had given her another chance to have a father figure. Someone who actually gave a damn.

And Fate… just didn't see it.

"And here I thought I was cold-hearted," she muttered, crossing her arms.

Fate smirked, amused rather than insulted. "Didn't expect to hear that from the Ice Queen herself."

Morgan scowled but said nothing. The old her would've used this as an opportunity—to manipulate, to push for her own benefit. But after everything… after meeting Morgan Alter, she wanted to change. She wanted to understand people, to truly connect with them. If she was going to rule her own kingdom one day, she needed to understand her people.

Her gaze flicked to her system.

Her stomach dropped.

Fate's mental state had plummeted to 49%.

'What? How!? He was only gone for a day! It was still in the 50s before!'

She frantically ran through the possibilities. He hadn't been injured—hell, even if he crashed headfirst into a mountain, he'd walk away just fine. So what happened?

Then it hit her.

Fate had recognized the people in this world. But they weren't the same ones he knew.

Every world he traveled to, he saw faces from his past. Familiar voices. Familiar mannerisms. But there is always a distance between him and them.

He knew about them but he ended up forgetting how, when, or where he met them before. His memories are fucked up.

This causes him to feel a strange feeling of both recognition and detachment.

It's like knowing someone your whole life, but at the same time, they aren't the people you once knew, and you can't remember where you met them before.

He was closing himself off. Cutting away his emotions—his human side—before anyone could hurt him any further.

Morgan clenched her fists.

She couldn't let him do this.

"Fate…" she said softly.

'I have to stop him.'

"Please…"

'I can't let him abandon his human half.'

"Come back…"

'Why am I feeling this?'

"You're making everyone worried…"

'Am I… falling for him?'

"Please…" her voice trembled, just slightly. "Have some faith in us."

'No, that can't be it. I just… need him. That's right. Our relationship is built on mutual benefit. We're just using each other. That's all this is.'

Even as she tried to convince herself, the ache in her chest didn't fade.

Meanwhile, Fate stood frozen, staring at the bloodied spear in his hands.

A voice echoed in his mind—smooth, confident, and achingly familiar.

"Have more faith in your ally."

His breath caught.

A silhouette flickered at the edge of his vision—a tall woman with long purple hair, clad in dark, skin-tight armor. She walked away without looking back before vanishing into the void.

His mother - Scathach.

Fate tightened his grip on Gae Bolg, his expression unreadable. He remembered the countless times his mother had beaten him down with this very spear. The way she never hesitated to knock some sense into him whenever he said or did something stupid.

She had believed in him. Even when he was at his worst, even when he made mistakes, she had never once looked at him with disappointment. Only expectation.

Like she was waiting for him to get back up.

His eyes darkened, and his lips pressed into a thin line.

"...Yeah," he finally said, voice quieter than before. "Let's go back."

Morgan exhaled sharply, relief washing over her as she checked his status again.

Her shoulders slumped slightly, the tension easing from her body. Then she noticed something else.

Target: Fate Redgrave

Gender: Male

Trust: 30%

Loyalty: 12%

Love: 31%

Affection: Dom 96%

Mental: 58%

Her eyes widened.

'Yes! I finally got him to agree!'

She barely stopped herself from cheering aloud. It was almost impossible to change Fate's mind once he set his sights on something. Yet, somehow, she had convinced him.

For the first time in a long while, she felt a genuine sense of accomplishment.