Chapter 637: The Audacity [Part 2]
Northern wove from the shimmers of dark sparks a long, slightly curved blade.
The blade crackled with lightning, as if resonating with the serene viciousness that glowed in his eyes.
When he approached Oland, he had not at all thought about killing the officer. Northern was not thoughtless and pushed by emotions, at least not anymore.
He had a reason for bringing Oland here. And that reason was none other than to manipulate the officer with fear, causing him to spill out whatever secret he held.
However, as Oland spoke, Northern realized he was a cannon fodder that was being used. If he wanted to get substantial information, he needed to reach this Instructor Bradley person.
And that should have concluded his interrogation with Oland, however one single thing happened that pissed Northern off.
While Oland spouted things like he didn't care about dying-although reasonable and logical - he still used the rules of the academy as regards harm and murder not taken lightly as a protection of his own life.
He was contradicting himself. Someone that felt incredibly sorry and devastated by what he had done but still had the audacity to cling to his life.
This dude might have been sorry, or at least deceived himself well enough that he was, or maybe was actually at a point of genuine remorse.
But clearly, he had lived too full a life to remember the pain as it had first happened. Because if he did, he'd be dead already.
It was not up to him to announce the fact that the academy would hunt down his killer.
To Northern, it was endearing, and hypocritical.
'What did he take me for?' had been the thought that crossed Northern's mind as he spoke.
Using the collective mass of the academy to threaten him. You don't talk to a man that defeated death not once but on several occasions like that.
You don't talk to a Master of Void and Chaos like that.
Having to face the wrath of the academy on his own? He was not about to turn into a cold- blooded mass slaughterer...
But if he did, who would hold him? Nobody! Who would dare to fight him—maybe someone, but who could defeat him? Nobody!
Oland's undoing of himself was daring to use that fail-safe against Northern. If he had just begged for his life like the cannon fodder that he was, perhaps Northern would have let him leave.
But right now, he disgusted Northern down to the very core. All Northern could see of the officer was a man that had happened to get a lavish life, maybe at first unable to enjoy the life out of guilt for what he had done.
However, time had passed. He had gotten addicted to the new life and now had things to hold on to. That he would dare throw his fail-safe in everyone's faces.
"What are you doing? I will cut you even if you don't summon your weapon."
Northern's voice dripped with dire seriousness, devoid of any emotion, not even anger rang in
his tone.
"What are you doing...? This is a mistake. The academy will turn against you."
Northern tilted his head; the next moment, he was gone, with a blast of wind.
Oland's eyes widened, his hands extending quickly, manifesting white sparks as his weapon broke beyond the boundary of his soul, into reality.
However, it was too late. He watched as his hand rolled into the air.
Northern's odachi had arched upward with a spray of blood curving in the air. The blade screeched melancholically with a cold light as it easily sliced through his shoulders like wind cutting water.
Immediately, an insurmountable amount of pain stung Oland's shoulders, blood gushing out like the force of water breaking through a rock.
His vision dimmed and grew dizzy as he let out a guttural scream, grabbing the point of amputation to stop the bleeding. Blood sprayed violently through his fingers despite his rugged attempt.
He staggered forward, breaking to a knee. His face was distorted, eyes widened with lines of despair spreading across his face.
Northern stood before him, casting a cold, indifferent gaze down on his wretched state.
"What? I gave you a chance to draw your sword, but you hesitated." The texture of Northern's tone was dark, like the low growl of a devil.
"You have your legs and one hand and even your head. In the dark continent, many of us don't get to keep that much should we hesitate."
Northern swung Stainless sideways, cleanly splashing away the smudge of blood on its steel.
Then he rested the blade upon his shoulders, its sharp edge glistening wickedly beneath the bluish light of the hall's ceiling.
A ghastly light reflected on Northern's face as he bore down on him again.
Seeing the look on Northern, the officer seemed to finally realize today was the day his luck ran out. His eyes widened impossibly; misery clutched his soul.
Trembling, Oland scrambled to the ground, groveling at Northern's feet.
"Please. Please. I beg you, don't kill me. I knew nothing about this. I was just obeying a command. All I did was do as I was told. I swear!!" He cried out, groaning painfully.
"This is quite simple." Northern deadpanned. "You don't want me to kill you, stand up and kill me. I gave you a fair chance, didn't I?"
Eyes widened, Oland paused for a moment, seriously considering.
Would he really have a chance at crossing swords with an impossible existence such as this? He looked like a child; he should still be able to fend off some attacks and run away, right?
At the very least, get out of this hall, perhaps then the illusion will break, or at least he could get enough time to send help.
There were unlimited possibilities; all he had to do was try. He had to live no matter what!
He was sorry, incredibly sorry, but he had come too far to give up now.
He was a clerk now; it was only a matter of time before he would be recommended for a junior instructor. He might have lost an arm, but he can still fight for his life and retain what's left of
it.
No, he couldn't die now.
All the while Northern watched with a crooked smile as the light of hope ignited in the depth of the man's soul.