Chapter 533: The Object Of Fear
Northern stepped down from the ship with a slightly disheveled expression.
"What's with the welcome?"
Everyone had their weapons raised in some form or another. Despite the exhaustion evident on their faces—and the injuries many bore-they still carried determined gazes, ready to see this through to the very end.
As inspiring as it was to look at them, it was also quite pitiful.
"How long until this ship gives up and crashes?" Northern asked, ignoring everything else. "We're barely holding it together," one of the sailors standing around answered carelessly. The others glanced at him, causing the clueless fellow to shrug indifferently.
"It's broken at the bottom, but I'm sure it's durable enough to get us to Arcadia," the sailor continued. He glanced around and stopped when his eyes landed on Alystren. Then he moved out of the way.
Immediately, the other sailors yelled:
"What are you waiting for?! Go! Go! Go to the angry-looking ship!" one of them shouted.
Shin approached Northern. He was silent for a few seconds before finally asking, his voice soft, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine..."
At that moment, Alystren joined them, trying to hide the shock of the situation behind his weary expression. He sighed.
"You, this kid-wandering off on your own and coming back with a ship. I'm surprised a kid like you can handle a monster like that. When did you learn how to sail ships?"
Northern raised a brow.
'That's true...'
He hadn't even realized until now that he had sailed two ships without ever taking a sailor's course. But as the thought settled, so did the answer.
When Northern became the lord of the Tower, an enormous amount of knowledge had poured into him. Sailing was part of that knowledge. If Northern chose to pursue the path of a sailor, he would undoubtedly be the most skilled and prominent sailor in all of the Central Plains.
But he had better things to do than that. Such as saving a mother, killing a Rughsbourgh, and tricking a couple of shameless, underhanded entities.
Now, those tasks might sound simple and straightforward, but they were the most unsimple and unstraightforward things Northern had ever faced.
He looked back at Alystren, his eyes cold and unblinking.
"I don't know. Once I placed my hand on the wheel, everything just fell into place. Besides, it wasn't like I needed to start the engine or anything; everything was already working."
Alystren glanced down for a moment, his eyes briefly narrowing before looking back up.
"I guess that makes sense. Were you able to find anything?"
Northern met his gaze, his expression devoid of any emotion, but deep within his eyes, there was a keen awareness of what Alystren was trying to do.
The man pressed on when Northern didn't immediately reply.
"What kind of foes did you face? Did they reveal any information or say anything? Did you -check the ship?"
Northern finally blinked and responded in an indifferent tone.
"Why would they reveal anything to me? I don't care about them or their objectives. I only needed to get to Arcadia without hindrance. That's why I fought. Don't get it twisted."
He gave Alystren a dirty look and walked past him.
At that point, Alystren clenched his fists tight, squeezing even harder as Northern passed him. Northern, hearing the micro-sound of the man's tightening fists, scoffed inwardly.
He didn't intend to inflame the old fool-he had simply spoken the truth. But if Alystren was offended by it, Northern didn't care.
'He can come take a swing at me and see how bitterly it ends for him.'
Northern confidently strode into the cabin. He came out a couple of minutes later with Ryan, and both of them crossed over to the other ship.
By that time, the passenger transfer was almost complete. Alystren stood by the rail of the old ship, lost in thought.
When the evacuation was done, Shin tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention, and together, they crossed to the dark vessel.
The crew left the dark airship, watching as the once magnificent soul vessel rested within the clouds, lonely and abandoned.
The crew were shocked as they stepped onto the ship and saw the pool of blood that still stained parts of the deck.
Their footsteps echoed unnervingly loud against the silent, empty ship as they moved hesitantly.
The air felt thick, heavy with the residue of violence that had clearly unfolded here.
But despite the visible remnants of battle-the splintered wood, the deep gashes carved into the deck, and the unmistakable pools of blood-there were no bodies to be found.
The passengers exchanged uneasy glances, their murmurs growing louder as they moved around, trying to find places to hang around.
"Where are the bodies?"
"There's so much blood... but no one's here."
"It's like they just vanished..."
Confusion and dismay rippled through the group as they spread out, each one trying to make sense of the mess.
Some of the sailors knelt down, tentatively touching the dark stains on the deck as if to confirm it was real.
One sailor, with a deep frown etched on his face, dipped his fingers into one of the thicker puddles and rubbed them together, his brow furrowing as the thick, sticky texture of blood clung to his skin.
"Looks fresh," he muttered to himself, though it was loud enough for those nearby to hear. His words only deepened the collective confusion.
A woman covered her mouth, her eyes wide as she took in the scene.
"How could this much blood be spilled, and there be no sign of the bodies? Where did they
go?"
Another passenger, an older man with silver hair and a limp, shook his head in disbelief glancing briefly at Northern.
"What exactly did he do here?" someone whispered, their tone accusatory.
One of the healers, who had been tending to the wounded drifters earlier, crossed her arms
and nodded toward the streaks of blood smeared across the walls.
"This much blood... no ordinary man could have done this."
The murmurs grew louder.
"Did he slaughter them all? Did he just... wipe them out?"
"It looks like no one even stood a chance..."
"Monstrous, really."
"But where are the bodies?"
The same question kept echoing through the group, as though their minds couldn't move past
that one grisly detail.
No one dared speak it aloud, but the thought was there, hanging in the air like a specter:
What kind of person leaves this much destruction without a trace of the dead?
Even the sailors, usually hardened by the rough nature of their work, looked uneasy.
Alystren, who had crossed over with Shin, stood silently at the back, observing the reactions
of the passengers.
His own expression was tight, the faint crease of concern deepening across his forehead. He didn't voice it, but the scene before him disturbed him as much as anyone else.
What exactly had Northern done here? Thalen had told him to be wary of the white-haired boy but in the end, it was only a sixteen-year-old kid.
He didn't think he'd need to be so worried, but this... this proved him wrong! This carnage was on a scale even he had never anticipated.
"They're scared," Shin noted quietly, glancing at the passengers. "They don't say it outright, but you can see it in their eyes. They're starting to wonder... about him." Alystren's lips pressed into a thin line. "They're wondering if Northern is a danger to them,
too."
Shin nodded, his face thoughtful. "It's only natural. They've seen the aftermath of something brutal and have no answers."
Alystren's gaze followed Northern's figure in the distance as he moved about the dark ship.
The young drifter was impassive, seemingly unaware- or perhaps unconcerned-by the murmurs and the unease spreading among the crew and passengers.
Alystren scoffed downward, "Hell, how have you been surviving so far. Even I am not sure what to think about him. I feel as much as they do. I can't help but wonder if he is a danger to
me too?"
Shin shrugged, a small sigh escaping his lips.
"I am still getting used to this too."
Northern, standing in a dark corner of the ship, leaned against its wall, and glanced around at
everyone.
He didn't really care what they thought.
'What? Did they expect me to mop the blood and bring the ship to them? Foolish humans'
He suddenly felt tired of it all. Humans were going to be humans after all. They easily forgot their ship was just about to crash and this young man came with a solution.
Now, the focus of all the crew seemed to be whether or not he killed all of them ruthlessly.
They feared him, their eyes trembled and many averted their gazes from him. It didn't make Northern sad; in fact, he was still indifferent regardless of how they felt. Although at some point he wondered if he should kill them all?
But it'd be a hassle, unlike those hijackers, these ones are drifters and will actually use their
talents.
It could have been a great avenue to copy talents but Northern did not have so many
fragments.
Moreover, he wasn't going to rush into talent copying this time. Instead, he was going to
create a style for himself and build a path.
Something encompassing, at the same time, carrying only his essence.
He was not sure about how to go with it. But he kept thinking about it and other things as the
ship flew towards Arcadia. Someway, distracting himself from the thought of killing everyone on the airship.