570 Void Mist
After the monster was defeated, the cracks on their exposed skin slowly reverted, and they became whole again.
Everyone proceeded in absolute silence as the atmosphere grew taut with pressure.
Etched upon their faces were strained expressions, each one carrying a different weight as they trekked forward—especially Dante's subordinate.
In the quick fight with the Destroyer, none of them had been able to move their bodies.
They were totally helpless before it. Only Northern had been quick-witted enough not just to join the fray but to choose the correct timing to do so.
He was more than enough help for Dante that they all felt if they joined, they'd only be interfering.
It was so quick, so perfect, so clean, and so powerful.
Finally, they were beginning to see and accept the scale of Northern's strength. And that acceptance was the source of the sour look on their faces.
Northern, however, did not care about all of that. His eyes were focused differently, driven deeply into the corners of his mind yet carefully scanning his surroundings.
If there was any one thing that he hated about this rift, it was their perfect ability to mask their presence. Even though he could faintly feel it, it was very hard to pinpoint where it was.
It was like smelling something in a strong wind. Because of the wind's violence, the scent was scattered all across, but it was there.
However, he kept his senses alert and sharp as they walked. A few things clouded his mind which he mulled over, one of which was the devastating effect of the Void Tendrils.
He could use them to absorb monsters' essence, which is converted into Void Essence. Not only does this kind of essence give his tendrils energy, but he feels his stamina slightly rejuvenated.
It had been the only thing he had been worried about since they had started this battle.
After becoming a Sage, of course, his body had gotten fairly better than it was before, but in the end, he was still subjected to that incurable disease of fatigue.
His powers were monstrous, and so their effect on his body was devastating. They ate up his stamina like savage beasts.
And also created a massive appetite—even now, as they walked, Northern was feeling very hungry. At the very least, he had more stamina to spare.
He thought of a few more ways he could use the Void Tendrils.
'I can use them as restraints; I should be able to use them as extra hands or extra swords.'
Northern was not sure if the Void Tendrils could be shaped into a definite form, made to take on the form of a sword or a hand; he had not experimented with something like that.
But he was also not rushing. This rift, after all, was going to give them ample opportunity to do so.
Northern stopped in his tracks, and as he did—as if all of them had their eyes on him despite walking in front—they stopped too... and turned back.
"Is something wrong, young lad?"
Northern shook his head slowly. However, he wasn't shaking his head as a response. With the dark scowl on his face, they could tell.
"They are advancing towards us... from all directions," his voice carried a cold dread, somewhat heavy, making the air dense.
The Paragon frowned slightly and took two steps toward Northern.
"I can't sense anything. Are you messing with me?"
Northern shook his head, unfazed by the harshness that resounded in Dante's tone.
He answered squarely.
"The initial attack of the mist was perhaps to throw us off while the others advance towards us. The Rabid Rots. They are even several thousand times more than what we fought in the compartment."
Their eyes widened as they all heard. By now, Northern had proven his abilities well enough that they felt the weight of each of his words.
The thing that confused them, however, and made them doubt what the white-haired kid was saying was...
...the ghostly and twisted grin on his face.
'What is that? Why does he look like he's enjoying himself?' Rafel could not understand.
Northern turned to the west.
It didn't matter where anyone wanted to turn to; the blood mist from the horizon slowly crept closer, enclosing them in a circle.
The moment became a calm before a storm. Northern knew that if he allowed the mist to be, they'd suffer serious damage.
Because the crimson aerosol had the ability to perfectly hide the monsters' presence. It was perhaps the reason why Lieutenant Dante was not feeling anything.
But nothing was hidden from Northern's Chaos Eyes. Even if his spatial awareness, which had been enhanced since Eyes of Intent became his eyes, does not work, his futuristic sense could easily pick up fragments of such chaos.
So this to Northern was as easy as breathing.
Northern closed his eyes for a moment and warned.
"Everyone... step back for a moment... this can kill the weak-willed."
'I wonder how potent Void Aura has become since I am a Sage now.'
Northern thought a bit and opened the gates of hell.
Immediately, they realized they should have gone back immediately when he spoke.
The familiar dread that they had felt in the underground in a tug-of-war against their Lieutenant's aura poured devastatingly into the air.
Breathing became harder than being a salaryman. Everything became unnecessarily heavy, their shoulders in mere beats hurt them like hell, their faces grew pale, and balls of sweat formed on their faces.
A bluish-black mist slowly covered the area, spreading out from amidst them and mixing with the blood-red mist.
The mist pulsed out, thick and insidious, devouring the crimson haze with a ravenous edge, and every ripple of it seemed to sap the vitality from the air itself.
The other members—Shin, Alystren, Jeci, Lynus, and even Ryan—stumbled backward, forced to retreat from the sheer weight pressing down on their chests, gnawing at their resolve. Each breath tasted of iron, thick with menace.
Night Terror, Black Mamba, and Revant bowed beneath him.
Northern's aura expanded, coiling and constricting like the grip of a shadowed serpent, its suffocating intensity forcing even Dante's hardened subordinates to stagger back.
Dante's jaw clenched, his gaze flicking between Northern and the encroaching mist.
He had seen fear before, lived it, wielded it, but this was something different—a darkness that was neither rage nor hatred but a void that whispered of endless, starless nights.
As the red mist was slowly torn apart by the weight of the void mist, reality seemed to slowly warp with it.
All their eyes widened as they looked around. It was just as Northern had said.
They'd been surrounded by Rabid Rots from all sides. And it wasn't just Rabid Rots, but the statued maelstroms and several Destroyers like the one Northern and Dante had just killed.
They were like a thick flood spreading all the way to the horizon.
Despair captured their hearts.