Chapter 505: Peak Confusion
Gravity.
The leader of the Ghostwalkers might not have been able to comprehend what manner of existence they'd been asked to come and kidnap.
But what just happened had given him an idea.
Talents and talent abilities are diverse, and a limitation cannot be placed on what they can do and undo.
Amongst this diversity exists a certain kind of talent that was heavily feared and respected, even sought out by high-profile citadels.
These talents branch in and out of every concept and law of nature, bending and unbending them as fit is seen.
Some were considered mundane in comparison with others. But none of their growth potential could be underestimated.
And the most amazing thing was that these sorts of talents were always classified as SSS or EX.
'Finally...'
The leader of the Ghostwalkers felt like he was beginning to understand the possibility of Northern discovering their presence, although it still didn't make any sense.
'But there was a slight chance that all of this is explainable if he happens to have an SSS or EX class talent. I need to take him to the Headmaster at all cost.'
Northern gracefully landed on the ground then folded his index finger-all the while he had been holding it out to keep the gravity.
The moment he folded the finger, all of them plopped on their backs, coughing and gasping furiously.
Northern observed them pitifully for a second then turned his face to the leader whom he was standing in front of.
"You are the leader, aren't you?" He asked rhetorically. "I can tell by that astounding control of your essence; it has a refined flow that others do not."
Northern spoke, staring directly into the man's belly.
Struck by a mind-numbing fear, the leader of the Ghostwalkers stood still; he wanted to move but his legs felt too heavy.
As Northern stared into his eyes, he suddenly felt like his entire body was being drowned by the crepuscular sky.
"Who... are... you...?"
"That's unimportant for mob characters like you." He retrieved his glare, eyes settling with a cold indifference, then he added,
"Your headmaster asked you to come kidnap me, didn't he?"
The leader of the assassins narrowed his eyes at once. 'He knew!'
"Don't be too surprised. I didn't particularly think you all would let me walk freely after
uttering the word elf, which only a very few people, I assume, know."
He nodded with a freeing smile, "It's fine, let's go. I needed to meet the man behind Tharion's existence. I need to place a request."
The poor leader was so confused. Was taking this strange boy the right option, or should he kill him here?
'With all my cards, it should be possible. He might have a high-class talent, but in the end, he's probably a Drifter or at most a Nomad. If I unveil all my cards, I should be able to permanently dispose of him.'
"See, I smell bloodthirst from you. If I return the favor, you could die. I don't intend to harm you people or jeopardize your existence, at least for now. Just take me to your damned
headmaster before I change my mind!"
Northern's patience was running thin.
'I understand that they are scared and confused, but don't they train people here to have a formidable and calculative mind?'
He glanced at them with a chagrined look on his face.
'Well, it's not something anyone learns in a peaceful continent like this one.'
Finally, the leader's voice rang out.
"Fine, I will take you with me."
"Good decision, now lead the way."
"You might not be able to match our pace or see us, so we need-"
"Don't bullshit me," Northern interrupted rudely and reinforced with a grim tone, "I said move."
The leader flinched a little at the sound of Northern's command.
Frustratingly, even he could not figure out why he was so intimidated by this obviously young boy before him.
'He has an astounding talent; I'm sure I'm just surprised,' he reasoned in his mind as he signaled to the recovering others.
Suddenly, all of them blurred swiftly into the air like black shadows fleeing from light.
"Magnificent."
The amazing part of it was that what they were using as movement was not even talents. If not, he would have gotten a notification asking him to copy.
Northern smiled in admiration before dissipating from the surroundings.
As the leader, pelted in dark shadows, blitzed across roofs, he glanced back in regret.
'Why'd he have to be so stubborn? I knew he couldn't catch up... these cocky kids with high- class talents.'
"What are you looking back at?"
The voice startled him so much that he ran into his own leg and tumbled over his head, sliding down the slated roof. Fortunately, his reflex saved him again: he sprang up with an unnatural momentum, finding ground on the slant roof and bursting forward with a turbo-like velocity. Northern looked at him in amazement and thought, 'His reflex really is amazing!'
'This has to be a trick! There has to be a trick he is using! He can't be as fast as we are; what the hell is he doing?! Why is he easily matching our pace?!!!
The poor leader felt these thoughts were going to reap his sanity apart.
Eventually, they landed on the compound of Tharion. The beautiful environment was now shrouded in pitch darkness, with soft orange illuminations from ornamental lamps.
They casually walked with Northern in between them, entering the castle-like tower. But unlike in the morning, they didn't enter through the main door. They went across the yard where a door that wasn't there a second ago outlined itself and permitted them entry.
The passageway was dark, very dark, even for them, but not for Northern.
'Did they use an item that swallows every slight trace of light to darken the pathway?'
That was what it looked like to him because the darkness they threaded in felt so unnatural.
Finally, after a few steps, they stopped and the leader said,
"You will meet a door, exactly ten steps forward."
'Oh? Did they move through the darkness by counting their steps? That's quite sad.'
He waved his hand dismissively, "It's fine, I can see the black metal door beyond this bridge."
The leader watched Northern walk towards the arching bridge with a severely puzzled
expression.
Even till now, he still couldn't tell if he had made the right call or committed a grave mistake that would lead to the downfall of his race.