’Strange’
Northern had not sensed Sael inside the cave at all.
And now that he was outside, he expected to imdiately sense the guy. While they were in the cave, it was like he had entered sothing, gone too far for his senses to reach. Northern hadn’t thought much of overextending at the ti because too much information would flood in, and there were many other things demanding his attention.
But now that he was standing in front of the golden mist, he knew why.
"What is the Rising Fall?"
Alystren shrugged.
"A waterfall that rises instead of falling."
The elf looked at him in distrust.
"T—that can’t be possible."
Alystren laughed shortly.
"What do you think is causing the golden mist? The collision between the upward flow and the surrounding downward atmospheric pressure is creating dense turbulence zones. That turbulence continuously shreds droplets into fine vapor, forming a permanent mist barrier around the waterfall."
The elf stared at the golden mist draping down like colossal curtains, a mix of white and gold that seed to move with its own impossible logic.
Northern interrupted just as the elf was about to reply.
"We should press forward."
He stepped forward, paused, and glanced back at them.
Alystren cleared his throat and followed. So did the elf.
They walked across the green field as they neared the mist wall. It parted before them, opening like curtains drawn by invisible hands. It wasn’t completely clear, but visibility sort of extended—Northern could see through the haze up to maybe twenty ters ahead.
More problematic was the complete absence of shadows.
’Can’t use Eye of the Shadow like this.’
He could summon Supre Shadow, but... Northern didn’t know how the mist was going to react to that. Bringing out a semi-autonomous shadow entity into whatever this place was seed like asking for trouble.
There was a popular myth about the Rising Fall—that violence, even in an unhatched state, made no difference. Only the peaceful could enter into the Rising Fall and reach the tribesn.
He wanted to be careful. These were a people whose history ran as far back as Reimgard itself. The only difference was they were very small in number, isolated, almost forgotten.
Maybe his mother was here. Maybe the Nebulous Lord too.
’Nebulous Lord...? No, I doubt it.’
Nebulous Lord wasn’t necessarily violent, but there was a paper-thin difference in how people always reacted to monsters. First instinct was to attack. Always. The tribesn would be no different.
A hissing sound intensified as they pressed forward. But it wasn’t harsh—it was more like being inside a massive seashell, that oceanic white noise, layered and constant. Northern’s mind filtered through the layers almost automatically.
He heard the upward rushing of water, droplets colliding with each other in strange musical tones, sothing that might have been distant feminine singing, even the sound of his own breathing. Everything rged together to create one singular sound that filled the space around them.
After a few more minutes, they entered into a pocket of perfect clarity.
The mist here beca so fine it was invisible, and Northern could now see everything.
The water rose from beyond the ground, straight up into the sky, almost entering the clouds themselves. Northern neared it, gently placed a finger into the stream—
That part parted.
He could feel the upward flow as it hit his hand, a constant pressure pushing against his skin. Cool. Persistent.
’It’s actually rising. Physics really doesn’t matter here, do they?’
He looked down and saw that the water was still coming from deep below, rising endlessly into the sky like so kind of liquid pillar connecting earth to heaven.
Northern was still looking up when he squinted, then turned to Alystren—
His eyes narrowed.
No Alystren. Not even the elf.
Both of them were gone.
’When did—’
Barely a second later, golden light fell down like stars and surrounded Northern almost imdiately.
They had four panels of golden translucent wings like dragonfly wings, graceful but dense with muscle beneath their soft appearance. Each of them had the sa amber reflective eyes—like light shining through honey—and held small round bucklers strapped to their forearms.
One of them stepped toward Northern.
She had short golden hair that reached just to the start of her neck. White and gold markings traced along her forehead in a V-line above her brows, two horizontal lines ran down her cheeks to her jaw, and a diagonal scar cut over her nose from the corner of her left eye.
"Visitor." Her voice was asured, formal. "We kindly implore you to go back. Vallithia is closed for now."
Northern exhaled and placed his hands behind his back, looking straight into the girl’s amber eyes—pupils absent, just endless reflected light staring back at him.
"I can’t turn back. If I’m correct, a friend of mine is sowhere in your city." He paused. "And if lady luck decides to smile upon as she hasn’t before, then my mother is there too."
The lady looked at him, barely suppressing slight disgust at his casual tone.
"You have quite... distinctive features. I’m sure your mother would be easily recognized." She straightened. "We have no such person with us. Now—scram. Ahem. Kindly leave, please."
Northern raised one eyebrow at her, having caught that slip.
’So much for peaceful tribesn.’
"I’m sorry." He looked at her flatly. "I have to get into the city."
Northern said it blankly, his expression neutral. The girl stood her ground, those amber eyes reflecting him back at himself—a white-haired stranger with blue eyes asking for entry where he clearly wasn’t wanted.
"I’m sorry." She crossed her arms. "You can’t."
Northern looked at her still, unmoving.
’They’re said to be pacifists... I’m unsure what could happen if I attack first.’ He studied the bucklers, the formation they’d taken around him. ’But this is also pretty annoying.’
He couldn’t waste ti with negotiations. Not when his mother might actually be close.
Northern wore a fake smile and directed it at the lady’s face. Then he casually looked up at the sky.
"You ca from up there... is that the way?"
The lady gave him another look of disgust, this one sharper than before.
"Huh? What are you—"
She froze mid-speech as Northern casually bent his knees and took off, shooting toward the sky like a released arrow.
"What?!"
She staggered back in flustered confusion, wings flaring instinctively. The others reacted similarly—genuinely shocked at the fact that he could fly at all, let alone at that speed.
’Not expecting that, were you?’
Their wings fluttered in rapid succession and they chased him imdiately, golden forms streaking upward through the mist.
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