The road ahead stretched endlessly. Throughout the night, the beast of burden pressed forward without stopping, while Northern slept upon its back. But even in sleep, his vigilance remained unbroken.
He was always aware—because his dreams were of reality.
Nothing would slip past him.
The other travelers also took moments of rest, though it was difficult to sleep on the trembling back of the massive beast. Eventually, exhaustion overtook them one by one.
Even Roma, who had stubbornly forced herself to stay awake, watching for danger so she could rouse Northern at the first sign of trouble, succumbed to drowsiness. Though she resisted longer than the others, sleep found her as well.
The night was bleak.
Darkness clung to the lower ground of the forest, creeping through the nooks and crannies between ancient trees. Across the sky, a spectrum of bluish-violet light slowly pulsed, trailing further north—as if guiding their path.
Its subtle glow shimmered across the edges of the forest, perhaps the very thing that kept the deeper darkness at bay, forcing it to slink into the shadows.
No one cared.
Every traveler was too burdened by their own thoughts, too shaken by the horrors they had endured, to give any attention to the eerily resplendent night around them.
The journey remained quiet.
Until it didn’t.
Suddenly, one of the three Drifters among them jolted awake.
His eyes snapped open—slanted and deep black, like pools of ink absorbing the night itself. A gaze eerily connected to the shadows, as though he could see through the darkness that lurked around them.
Like the others, his expression carried the vacant detachment of someone who had witnessed too much death. The weight of lost lives pressed upon him.
But there was something else.
A deeper, lingering darkness in his stare—not necessarily evil, but profound.
In fact, if anything, he seemed like a kind young man, barely in his early twenties.
Yet his eyes…
They stared into the void.
His sudden movement did not go unnoticed.
Roma, positioned at the front, turned sharply at the sound of his stirring. Her expression faltered slightly.
"What? Is everything alright?"
The man lingered in silence, his jaw tightening. Then, in a voice that rasped like the croaking of a frog, he muttered:
"The horde is getting closer."
Roma stiffened. Her eyes darted around their surroundings.
She scanned carefully, searching for any sign of movement.
But there was nothing.
Frowning, she turned back to the Drifter.
"But... I don’t see anything?"
The man’s brow furrowed, and he pressed his lips into a tight line.
"That’s the thing about them," he murmured. "You don’t see them coming."
He shifted, his gaze darkening.
"I can sense them only because of my attribute—my affinity with shadows. They move with it. And at night, they move faster."
Roma shuddered.
A slight, involuntary reaction.
Confusion stirred within her.
She wasn’t sure if the man was speaking from genuine observation or paranoia.
After everything they had been through, who could blame him?
But if there was one thing she had learned, it was this: never doubt a Drifter.
So she chose to believe him.
Her expression firmed with quiet resolve as she nodded.
"Don’t worry," she reassured him. "I told you, didn’t I? We have a Sage with us. There’s nothing to be afraid of."
The man’s tense shoulders loosened slightly. The worry in his eyes remained, but it was subdued now. His gaze drifted to the figure resting leisurely beside the girl.
The others who had woken from the conversation reacted the same way.
The mere mention of a Sage was enough to settle their anxious hearts.
Yet, at the same time, a different emotion flickered across their faces.
Confusion.
Doubt.
Their eyes lingered on the young man, hesitant, uncertain.
Could he really be a Sage?
He looked too young.
Northern was tall, strikingly handsome, and carried himself with effortless confidence. If he told them he was twenty-five, he could probably pass without question.
But that was precisely the issue.
Even twenty-five was too young for a Sage.
No one—absolutely no one—expected that the boy they were all looking to for protection…
Was just seventeen years old.
But the girl had assured them.
She had even told them that the powerful beast they rode upon belonged to him—that he had singlehandedly subdued the monster.
And it was hard to deny.
Northern emanated a presence that was both pristine and domineering. His aura, undeniable.
Yet…
They had been through too much.
It was difficult not to doubt.
Meanwhile, Roma shifted slightly, reaching out to tap Northern awake.
Before she could, however—
He stirred.
His eyes opened, sharp and aware, as he smoothly propped himself up.
Roma froze.
For a moment, she was caught off guard, her brow arching in curiosity.
"Was that a coincidence, or did you know?"
Northern remained silent.
He didn’t answer right away.
Instead, his gaze shifted—moving past her, turning to the young man who had just alerted them.
[Profile]
Name: Sheenspare Tyr
True Name: [Shadow Drifter]
Attributes: [Eyes Of The Shadows]
Soul Rank: [Vagrant]
Soul Core Saturation: [Mid]
Talent: [Shadow Malleability]
Talent Class: [C]
Talent Ability: [Shadow Release], [Shadow Command], [Dark Blade]
’Now, that’s interesting…’
A faint smile tugged at the corners of Northern’s lips, threatening to surface—only to fade before it could fully form.
He had never encountered a shadow-type or darkness-type Talent before.
A Talent with a name linked directly to the shadows.
But it made sense. After all, there were Talents for ice, fire, water—every elemental force imaginable.
So why not shadows?
For a moment, he contemplated.
Should he copy it?
A tempting thought.
But Northern had something far more important ahead—the blockade.
Lithia was a city of merchants, a thriving hub of commerce.
And where there were merchants, there were Drifters.
The kind that wealthy and influential traders hired from the Citadel to safeguard their goods.
Which meant—there were bound to be stronger, sweeter Talents waiting for him.
A buffet of power. Delicious Talents, ripe for the taking.
His hesitation deepened.
This was his last slot.
Before he could move up to the next Soul Rank.
A moment later, Northern exhaled softly.
Discover stories at .Côm
Then, he blinked.
And at the end of that blink—Chaos Eyes manifested.
A subtle shift.
An imperceptible change to most.
But not to the young Drifter who had sensed the horde.
His entire body shuddered.
A visible tremble crawled through his limbs as he instinctively tried to retreat—scrambling backward.
Before he could, however—
Northern stood up.
Then, without a word, he leapt off the beast of burden.