The journey to the blockade continued in silence. Much later, after they had boarded the beast of burden, Northern beca aware of the travelers' condition.
A horde of monsters had attacked the nearest town to the southwest, forcing many to flee for their lives. However, countless others had fallen victim to the ravenous maws of the creatures lurking in the thick forest. Those who had survived owed their lives to hundreds of lost lives- and three Drifters.
Among the group, only the old man and the pregnant woman were ordinary humans. The other three bore bleak, sullen expressions, their eyes heavy with the weight of loss, pressing a suffocating tension onto the atmosphere.
At first, Northern didn't care. He truly didn't. But as the journey dragged on and he observed how disconnected they were each person withdrawn despite sharing the sa beast of burden—he found himself pondering the weight of hundreds of lives.
He had never allowed himself to feel responsible for the lives of others. When they died, their deaths did not burden him.
Except for one.
One death had sent him spiraling into the depths of the infective madness of the red mine.
It had struck him deeply- though he had lunged forward, though he had moved on-this one wound remained. A scar he counted. The first. The only aningful one.
The rest of the events in the Dark Continent? He had remained distant, unconcerned with anyone or anything beyond survival.
The people he had killed in Sloria? Regretful, but they would have done the sa to him.
Death had never weighed on him.
Until Gareon.
Just as that monster had once shielded him, Gareon had too. That was a weight he carried.
But could it compare to the burden of hundreds of lives? He wasn't sure.
Northern sighed and closed his eyes. Sothing else required his attention.
His consciousness dove inward, and when his eyes opened again, he found himself in another place.
A familiar room.
The scent of the city and snow mixed with the rich fragrance of his luxurious enclave. He sat still for a few monts, replaying the day's contest in his mind.
The most useful person in the contest had been Aster. Northern regretted not witnessing it firsthand, but for the first ti, the chatterbox had proven his worth beyond his endless boasting.
On the fly, Aster had taken scraps of tal and ticulously crafted what he called a thruster - a chanical device that embedded a flat slab of tal into reinforced alloy walls. The key difference was that its thrust grew stronger with the amount of essence it consud.
Essence, when channeled by Masters, could reinforce objects-starting with their own bodies and extending to mundane materials. Of course, the material's durability determined how much reinforcent it could withstand.
A thin piece of tal, for example, could endure a slight infusion of essence, becoming strong enough to cleave through a tree-though not in a single, clean slice. Too much
reinforcent, however, and it would disintegrate.
A thicker, sturdier tal rod could endure stronger reinforcent.
Reinforcent itself varied depending on a Drifter's assimilation and circulation style.
One thod might grant even a blunt weapon a razor-sharp edge. Another might turn the sa object into an unyielding bludgeon. Everything depended on the principles of their essence manipulation.
Of course, to Northern, all of this was aningless.
He used essence circulation, but chaotically-letting it run through every fiber of his being without concern for thodology. He could probably reinforce objects if he tried, but the principles behind it? He had never bothered to learn. He had never needed to.
Until this afternoon.
Aster had needed everyone's essence to reinforce the tal. The others had played their part, contributing as much as they could.
They were close to victory-so close that Northern's absence from the process had almost been detrintal. A rare and unacceptable scenario for soone who had put so much effort into bringing things to fruition through sheer will-a lone wolf to the core.
But then their essence ran out.
Aster, already occupied controlling the machinery, couldn't spare more. Simultaneously operating and reinforcing the chanism was impossible for him.
Not that he had much essence to begin with. Aster's talent allowed him to consu Northern's reserves, but his own supply was pitifully limited.
So, for the first ti, Northern humbled himself and learned how to reinforce tal.
A slightly interesting bit of knowledge.
Perhaps useful in the future.
If he ever encountered an enemy like the Rotten Retainer again and Colossal Force alone wasn't enough...
What would happen if he reinforced a body already empowered by Colossal Force?
A sha he was only learning this after that brutal fight.
Still, there were no losses. Tomorrow was another day. The duel would begin soon.
After the contest, he had collected the duel placent slip.
And the rewards for finishing first place had arrived.
The team had received three items each, along with a massive sum-10,000 Orens.
The items included one [Lordly] grade armor, a weapon, and a charm.
The armor was a sleek, black ensemble, adorned with several straps and belts. It bore three
orders:
[Stealth]-rendering his steps soundless.
[Spatial Silence]-erasing movent disturbances in the air.
[Lightness]—increasing his speed.
The weapon, Longshore, was a double-edged longsword. It carried a single order, yet it was a
powerful one:
[At desperate tis, the cleave of Longshore will ignore distance.]
However, its length posed a challenge.
Northern held the sword, feeling an odd imbalance in its weight. It was a difficult weapon to wield, but undeniably a beautiful one. Under the moonlight, it glead with a serene, silvery sheen-like a gentle yet rciless executioner.
The charm was designed to enhance weapons, increasing their sharpness and durability. While it could be used with other items, it worked exceptionally well with blades.
After inspecting his prizes—and indulging in a brief mont of fantasizing over the bag of Orens in his hand-Northern left his clone. He would co back to finish the last part of the
contest himself.
Then, he returned to the beast of burden.
The final battle awaited.
Before drifting into sleep, he summoned the Moonlit Scale.
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