The Crimson Cloud was a grotesque and unsettling existence—sothing that had no place in the world. And yet, no one seed to know of its presence.
Even Northern had dismissed it just as one of the wonders of the Central Plains—until he gazed into the abyss… and the abyss gazed back.
Thousands of eyes. Watching.
Northern did not like it.
If whatever dwelled within that crimson depth were ever set free… he doubted even his power would be enough to fight it.
At least, not at his current stage.
But he was still a Sage. Soon, he would beco an Ascendant. And, hopefully, Paragon would follow soon after.
Yet, despite knowing this, Northern felt no urgency to rush. Instead, he saw purpose in continuing his descent into the dungeon.
The most terrifying part of it all, however, was sothing far more insidious.
He was beginning to see Rughsbourgh's point of view.
And it was starting to look… justifiable.
But nothing could justify inherent wickedness.
No matter what greater good Rughsbourgh claid to serve, abducting hundreds of children and throwing them into the unknown—into death—was an act of evil.
Evil in its purest, deepest darkness.
And that was the kind of man Rughsbourgh was.
Northern did not believe in the end justifying the ans.
No.
That was bullshit.
A convenient lie the wicked told themselves—to exist. To justify their actions. To feel less sha.
The cruelty Northern had endured… he would return it to Rughsbourgh. Paragon or not.
But he would not be hypocritical and pretend there was no sense in Rughsbourgh's logic.
Which was why… he would have one hell of a conversation with the man.
'A conversation indeed.'
A conversation… with his fists.
Northern curled the corner of his lips and scoffed.
Then, he turned his gaze to his summons and spoke.
"You've all done well. It gladdens my heart. Rest now. Next ti—we're all going in together."
The varying lights in their eyes burned with the sa emotion.
Joy.
Their Lord had spoken. The re thought of fighting alongside him filled them with exhilaration.
Northern sighed, studying each of them.
'Now… Mr. Fluffy and Corpse Eater.'
The two had been the most ferocious in the battle.
As a result, Mr. Fluffy had suffered a grievous injury and was now recuperating within Glacier Mountain. And Corpse Eater had withdrawn sowhere within Red Mountain.
Northern waved a hand, dismissing them all.
Then, rising from his seat—
—he vanished.
His figure materialized within the mountain plain as naturally as the flowing wind.
A crevice yawned before him— radiating pure darkness from the outside.
Northern stepped forward, bending slightly as he entered.
The mont he crossed the threshold, the darkness of the cave ignited with a bloody glow—the red radiance of thousands of Rethium crystals he had processed in his short ti at the academy.
The air felt heavy, saturated with raw energy.
Then, movent.
A creature crawled along the cavern floor before coming to a halt at Northern's feet.
It was in an unsightly state.
One of its legs was completely gone. The remaining leg was barely intact — but mangled beyond recognition. A massive chunk of its side had been devoured, exposing raw dark flesh and fractured bones.
Yet, black flas flickered at the edges of the wounds, burning sluggishly.
Its recovery was taking an excruciatingly long ti.
Seeing Corpse Eater in this condition made Northern fully grasp the true level of the monster they had fought.
The Drifters of Lithia had just defeated an Apex Destroyer. So had died, but in the end, they had succeeded—and relatively easily at that.
But his summons were stronger than all of them.
Northern tried to picture his summons fighting the Apex Destroyer of the River—
And he could easily see them killing it.
But then he imagined humans facing hundreds of monsters—each one as powerful as that Apex Destroyer.
Northern shook his head.
'They'd be eviscerated in seconds.'
He lowered himself, resting a knee against the ground, and placed a hand on the creature's head.
At this mont, Braham's ability would have been invaluable.
But that was the thing.
They were not human.
And beyond that, their bodies were structured less like creatures of flesh and more like extensions of the Void itself.
Northern patted the monster's head and murmured softly.
"I wish you a safe recovery, buddy."
He cast one last look around the chamber—then rose, stepping out.
In the next instant, he vanished.
—
A howling wind tore through the Glacier Mountain, but its biting cold ant nothing to him.
He continued down the frosted slope, the world around him carved in jagged ice and vast, endless snowfields.
After several minutes, he reached a massive, open chasm—the entrance to a cavern buried deep within the mountain.
Northern stepped inside.
For several minutes, he walked through an unlit tunnel, his surroundings illuminated only by the soft, eerie blue glow of ice crystals growing along the walls.
The deeper he went, the colder the air beca.
After a while, he finally reached a cave of abundant crystal minerals.
They grew in clusters, scattered like frozen stars across the cavern, their soft luminescence painting the walls in eerie shades of blue and violet.
A glowing stream andered through the cavern's heart, its waters shimring with ethereal light.
Beyond it—
Mr. Fluffy lay folded, his massive body rising and falling in slow, deliberate breaths—like the shifting of a mountain.
His snow-white fur, thick and wild, fluttered faintly with each exhale. Yet, dark stains marred its pristine coat—crimson and obsidian. The residue of battle.
A low growl rumbled from his throat as he sensed Northern's approach.
Even injured, even at rest, Mr. Fluffy had grown.
Larger.
Still missing a tail.
Still a Devilish Beast.
As a Devilish Beast, he could transform into a bipedal monster, gaining trendous power.
But when he ascended to Catastrophic Beast, he had gained gigantification—a trait only usable while in his four-legged form.
And yet, despite his current limitations, he had been exceptional in battle.
Northern felt it clearly.
Mr. Fluffy was stronger than most monsters of his caliber.
And he couldn't wait to see what he would beco as an Apex Beast.
For a mont, Northern remained still.
Then, he reached out—running a hand through the beast's massive fur.
It was thick. Coarse in places. Warm despite the cold cavern air.
Northern smiled. Patted him.
This—
This was strange for him.
Showing emotion.
Yet, if he wanted to rely on them—on all of them—then he needed to build sothing more.
A bond.
And so, he forced himself to do these things.
Because they were his.
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