The Paragon remained silent for a few moments, blinking strangely. Then, realization dawned, and he spoke with his arms slightly raised.
"Oh, no, no, no. We haven’t come here to fight you. In fact, we’re here for the exact opposite."
Northern let out a subtle smile.
"I think you’re misunderstanding me. I didn’t mean that in any disrespectful manner. If you’d looked long enough, you would have found more like me."
The Paragon paused, his expression frozen. He blinked again, then chuckled, shaking his head slightly.
"Either you’re being too humble, or you’re a man who enjoys being unreadable. Which is it?"
Northern shrugged, offering no response. Instead, he shifted his gaze toward his three subordinates, prompting the man to continue.
"But I digress. We’re here for a reason, after all. We heard of your heroic deeds on your way here—how you helped and saved the civilians on your own."
Northern nodded slightly as he listened, though the word heroic deeds felt uncomfortable in his ears. He pushed the discomfort aside, refocusing on the conversation.
"Please, if you will, can you tell us more about the event? How exactly did you traverse the mountain? What was your purpose for coming to Lithia?"
Northern glanced around briefly, and before he could respond, Raizel spoke again.
"Of course, not here. We came only because your subordinate, Bairan, insisted that calling you over would be disrespectful. Instead, we had to come here to meet you."
The last statement made Northern want to puke.
’Bairan. Bairan. Bairan. Bairan.’
He could almost see how insistent and domineering the Sword King must have been about the matter.
A sudden wave of secondhand embarrassment hit him, draining the color from his face.
With a sigh, he ran a palm over his face before briefly shooting a death glare at Bairan—who in turned grinned with satisfaction.
Then, composing himself, he turned back to Paragon Raizel with a calm expression.
"Alright… let’s do that."
The Paragon smiled and extended a hand.
"My name is Raizel, but you can call me Burning Storm."
Northern hesitated for a moment before clasping the man’s hand. A flicker of surprise still lingered on his face, and Raizel noticed it.
"Burning Storm? Is that a nickname?"
He spoke casually, masking the fact that he already knew the man’s true name.
Raizel shook his head, his smile unwavering, as he retracted his hand.
"It is my true name. The moment you become a Paragon, your true name becomes clearer to you. I believe it plays an even greater role as you ascend to a Luminary, a Transcendent, and eventually a Zenith. In fact, I dare say… it could be the very essence of that pinnacle—something most Drifter overlook."
He stepped forward, speaking with a natural cadence, as if revealing something fundamental yet often dismissed.
Northern, meanwhile, was impressed. He had never encountered a Drifter who spoke with such insight on true names. Many disregarded them—an intrinsic part of their existence they didn’t fully comprehend.
But Raizel had posed an intriguing thought.
And it made Northern wonder—was the difficulty in ascending the higher ranks tied to this very ignorance? Were people failing to grasp their own essence, blinded by the pursuit of power instead of understanding their true name?
He wanted to know more. He was about to speak when Raizel’s voice cut through his thoughts.
"I didn’t quite get your name?"
Northern blinked, then responded smoothly.
"Oh, my name is Rian. Rian Artemis Lael."
Raizel fell silent for a few moments, seemingly lost in thought. By now, they had begun climbing the stairs.
"Rian. Are you from the Empire?"
Northern tilted his head slightly.
"Uh… no, not really."
"Then you must be from a prestigious family—one whose existence cannot be extinguished."
Northern shook his head.
"No, not at all." Discover exclusive tales on .Côm
The Paragon turned to look at him as they walked, his expression darkening into a frown.
"Then I suggest you speak of your name less and less."
A golden radiance suddenly broke through the shadow of his expression, and his eyes lit up with a strange, almost joyous energy.
"As for me, though…" Raizel’s voice took on an amused lilt. "I shall refer to you as Ral. Rian. Artemis. Lael. Ral. What do you think, Sir Ral?"
Northern wasn’t sure how to respond.
The man was too charismatic. Too effortlessly disarming.
It was, in fact, very awkward listening to him craft a nickname out of nowhere with such… enthusiasm.
He let out a sheepish chuckle, silently thanking his stars that they were finally stepping into a room.
The space was bathed in warm, golden light, casting a soft glow over what once might have been a lounge. But the stacks of luggage piled into the corners stripped it of its intended elegance, turning it into something far less refined.
The Paragon took a seat in a red plush chair and gestured for Northern to do the same. Another identical chair sat opposite him, separated only by a cracked glass table.
Northern lowered himself soundlessly, his focus settling on the Paragon, who relaxed into his seat, swinging one leg over the other. His expression held an amused, almost unreadable smile as he studied Northern.
Behind Northern, Bairan, Jeci, and Lynus stood rigidly, mirroring the stance of the Paragon’s four subordinates behind him.
The symmetry of the standoff created a subtle but unmistakable tension. A quiet, competitive energy stirred in the background—one the two main figures remained oblivious to.
Then, the Paragon spoke, his voice tinged with intrigue.
"Please. Have the floor."
Northern exhaled slowly. He wasn’t quite sure where to begin, but he spoke anyway.
"I joined a caravan that was supposed to transport some goods here."
That single sentence made Raizel lean away from his chair, his expression shifting in an instant—darkening with urgency.
"The caravan? The goods! Did they make it?!"
Northern frowned slightly. The reaction was… intense. More intense than he had expected.
For a moment, he was speechless, processing the sudden weight of the man’s gaze.
After a brief hesitation, he finally answered.
"Yes… they are."
Raizel’s eyes flashed with joy. He nodded—once, twice—before exhaling in what almost sounded like relief.
"Great! Great! It seems the stars are smiling upon us! We finally… we might be able to survive after all!"