Chapter 743: The Caravan
Northern found himself perched on the edge of a dilapidated rooftop overlooking the town. The cold wind tugged at his cloak as he gazed out at the horizon, the outline of the mountains shimmering against the backdrop of the rising star which bathed the entire clouds with an orange hue.
The east gate was a hive of quiet activity. A small group of people, no more than a dozen, were gathered around a series of wagons loaded with crates and barrels. Creatures that looked like something between horses and bulls snorted and pawed at the ground, their breath misting in the cold air.
Northern closed his eyes for a moment, breathing out a cloud of cold air.
'What have I done to myself...'
He was supposed to be in his dormitory by this early hour of the day, resting and preparing for the second part of the contest. More and more people were now exiting the rifts, many of whom had detrimental and life-threatening wounds.
But it was nothing that the academy couldn't take care of, as long as they didn't die.
This was the third day of the first stage of the contest. The second would start the next day, after which the last part, the dueling contest, would progress.
That was the grand stage he had created to show how truly strong he was. Although people perhaps now had an idea.
When he walked, gazes turned to him and his group. It was also why people like Kaelen and his sister would approach him to be friends.
Northern's face once again twisted in disgust at the word. Then he looked away, with a lost look in his eyes.
Silent. Before he drifted back to the loading caravan.
'Well, it's not entirely gone. I have my clone there...'
He had left a clone in his stead with a fifty percent power output; also, he could even switch control between himself and the clone endlessly.
Maybe it's not really a loss.
The only strange thing, however, was why he had suddenly decided to go escort the caravan himself instead of leaving his clone in charge of it.
His mind drifted towards Eleina and her injury. Her last banter with her father hardly left his mind; he could still hear echoes of it even.
If Eleina was so worried about something brewing in the Central Plains, then she had to have a good reason for it. Whatever that worry was did cost her a leg, and her father his fleshy weapon of forge.
But why was he then heading towards that destruction?
..
Northern could feed himself with no answers, no matter how deep he thought about it. He couldn't come up with a response for himself.
All that he felt was just... silence.
And maybe that was the answer he needed for now.
Northern's eyes suddenly narrowed, his head moving forward a bit as he sighted someone amongst the mercenaries, someone with blonde, almost gold shining hair and a pale green cloak draping over her body.
He frowned immediately.
'Why again?'
The lady from his encounter yesterday was amongst the mercenaries that would be traveling with the caravan. That meant he would be traveling with her.
Suddenly Northern became very uncomfortable. But he ignored the feeling and wove out a white mask from the depth of his soul.
He held the mask, looking at it, then placed it over his face. The eyes of the mask were shaped like a fox's; aside from that, it had no particular design.
But becoming of Northern's face, it added a subtle aura of mystery and subdued power to his person.
Northern scanned the group, his eyes landing on a tall, broad-shouldered man wearing a bright red scarf. He was barking orders at the others, his voice carrying easily over the morning bustle.
"That must be Gareon."
He muttered to himself then casually fell from the roof and landed gracefully on his legs. He walked forward, his cloak flowing in the tenderness of the morning wind.
He approached the man, his steps silent on the frost-covered ground. Gareon noticed him immediately, his eyes narrowing as he sized up the cloaked figure.
"Who are you?"
Gareon demanded, his hand resting on the hilt of a sword at his hip.
Northern replied simply.
"White. The shopkeeper sent me. Said you could use some real help."
Immediately he uttered the name, he regretted it.
'I should really work on my naming skills.'
Gareon snorted, his lips curling into a skeptical smirk.
"Help, huh? You don't look like much."
Northern's expression remained neutral behind and beyond the mask.
"Looks can be deceiving."
Gareon studied him for a moment longer, then shrugged.
"Fine. If the old man vouches for you, I'll give you a chance. But let's get one thing straight-
I'm in charge. You follow my orders, or you're out. Got it?"
Northern nodded, though he had no intention of taking orders from anyone.
"Got it."
Gareon didn't look entirely convinced, but he turned back to the wagons and began shouting
more orders.
Northern moved to the edge of the group, keeping to himself as he observed the other members of the caravan.
Most of them looked like seasoned travelers-mercenaries armed to the teeth, their faces hard and weathered.
But a few stood out. There was a young woman tending to one of the mounts, her movements precise and practiced, and an older man with a long beard who seemed to be muttering to himself as he examined a map.
Northern shifted his head a little bit as he caught wind of someone approaching him.
He frowned beneath the mask and casually looked away, hoping she wasn't coming to him.
She stopped in front of him.
"You... what are you doing here?"
Northern moved his head and looked at her, his blue eyes shining wickedly from the darkness
of the mask. But the girl did not seem to care.
"I am here as a mercenary... Just like you."
"A young boy like you? Do your parents know about this? That mask can deceive everyone but
it won't deceive me. I saw you yesterday; you should not be here."
Northern inspected her from head to toe and said:
"You don't look that old yourself."
The girl shrieked a little bit and opened her mouth to defend herself but Northern's voice,
sharp like a blade, cut through.
"How about we just stay out of each other's business and hopefully, stay alive?"
He leaned away from the wooden pillar he was resting on and moved towards the caravan as Garon barked yet another command that drew everyone like magnets.
Everyone gathered for a brief introduction after which the caravan began its journey to the
blockade.