Northern felt so good in a way that he never had before. Was it the fact that he could sohow now tell where his mistakes lay as he moved, or because he directed the flow of the Chaos Footwork with more definition than before?
Previously, Chaos Footwork had seed to make him move like soone diving in for a fall but happening to take advantage of it.
It was in taking advantage of the relapsing monts of both him and his opponent.
But now that he could see the chaos ahead of him, he could vividly see those relapsing monts. Hence, he didn't need to take advantage of his fall.
He needed to ld himself and his flow into a line that caused and controlled those relapsing monts.
Hence, the difference being that before, Northern was susceptible; he had to move like he would fall, and in such a fall ca the execution of the Chaos Footwork.
Every one of his movents was altered to bring out Chaos, no matter how little or through whom, whether it was him or his opponent.
Chaos needed to reign.
But right now, Northern could feel things a bit differently, like he was the chaos that needed to reign on this battlefield.
His eyes were seeing all the chaos, which ant the chaos that needed to reign before his perception was already reigning.
Now all his footwork did was flow into them.
Like it or not, the fusion of Chaos Eyes and Spectra Vision was a great boon to his visual prowess.
He did not think or expect that he'd be making such leaping progress in a matter of minutes after putting to prolonged practical use the foresight of Chaos and its footwork.
And all this progress just made him feel even better about himself.
As they watched him, the others hesitated, fear now fully consuming them.
They had never seen anything like this-Northern wasn't just fighting them; he was tearing through them like a force of nature, his movents precise and deadly, his blade an extension of death itself.
The leader's face, once calm and confident, now twisted into sothing more frantic, his cloak billowing in the wind as he barked orders.
"Surround him! Don't let him escape!"
Four of the remaining hijackers rushed in at once, forming a semi-circle around Northern.
They moved in unison, their weapons raised and ready, clearly more experienced than the canon fodders Northern had just dispatched.
"Escape...?" Northern's voice rang out like the cold shrill of imminent death.
They froze mid-action and trembled.
"I can feel fear oozing from your pores," he said to all four of them. "You are not even sure of what to do."
His voice seed to rise atop a tall wall that blocked all lights. "You are no match for ."
The first grimaced and reclenched his fist, swinging his sword toward Northern's shoulder, but before the blade could make contact, Northern stepped forward with blinding speed, bringing the Dark Mortal Blade down in a brutal arc.
The blade cleaved clean through the man's neck, sending his head spinning into the air.
A fountain of blood erupted from the stump of his neck, drenching the others in a gory spray as his body crumpled to the deck.
The second attacker ca at him from the side, a war hamr raised high.
Northern sidestepped the blow easily, his footwork allowing him to glide past the attack with almost supernatural grace.
He lashed out with his blade, severing the man's leg at the knee in a single, clean strike.
The hijacker collapsed, screaming, his severed limb twitching as blood gushed from the stump.
The remaining two attackers were already faltering, their movents sluggish as the fear began to take hold.
"What? Do you wish to... 'escape'?" He teased.
In a sudden, soft and smooth flash, Northern closed in, eradicating their chances of 'escape'.
He manifested his essence and poured it into the dark gleaming blade of the death-imbued weapon as he lunged toward them.
The blade gained an even deeper darkness, its glossiness disappearing completely.
A thick pitch of bluish darkness clothed the blade, its sharp edge thinning sharper.
He drove the Dark Mortal Blade into the abdon of the third hijacker-the sword entered
like he was cutting butter with a butcher's knife-the force of the strike lifting the man off his feet as the blade tore through his torso.
Northern yanked the blade free, and the man's organs spilled onto the deck with a wet splatter, his body convulsing violently before going still.
The final hijacker dropped his weapon, his face pale with terror as he stumbled backward.
"Please... no..." he whimpered, his voice shaking.
Northern's eyes, now glowing faintly with an azure intensity, t the man's gaze.
For a brief mont, he considered letting him go. But that mont passed quickly.
He stepped forward, the Dark Mortal Blade raised high, and with a swift, brutal swing, he decapitated the man in one clean motion.
The headless body staggered for a mont before collapsing in a heap, blood pouring from the neck in thick, steaming rivers.
Silence fell over the deck, the only sound the soft drip of blood pooling around Northern's feet.
He stood there, breathing heavily, his eyes scanning the bodies strewn across the deck.
The air was thick with the stench of blood and death, and for a mont, Northern allowed himself to feel the weight of what he had done.
But he felt... nothing.
Instead, he muttered again, "Too slow," almost disappointed.
Then his eyes slowly widened as a realization dawned on him.
'Even after killing a man that surrendered, I feel nothing. No...'
He belatedly realized sothing again as he took a step back and looked at all the bloodshed
he had caused on the deck for a second ti.
Body parts littered the whole deck in a pool of crimson. It was a carnage that only he had
singlehandedly wrought.
And yet, there was not a single remorse in his heart. He didn't feel anything.
A small frown creased his forehead.
'The effect of void has gone deeper than I thought it has...'
Northern averted his gaze and looked forward to the only man standing on the ship now.
The cloaked man stared at Northern in disbelief.
His hands trembled, his confident facade utterly shattered.
He took a step back, his mind racing as he tried to comprehend how things had gone so
horribly wrong.
Northern tilted, his eyes gleaming with deathly light.
"Oh? Would you like to escape?"
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