Fighting alongside a Paragon didn’t particularly excite Northern.
It wasn’t all that.
But there was something about Raizel—an aura that wrapped around him like a shroud, drawing Northern’s attention despite himself. Even as he tried to shift focus away, he couldn’t deny it.
He stood by the wall of the city’s main hall, watching as the Paragon orchestrated the city’s defenses with barely a handful of words.
He exuded authority—a commanding presence so effortless it seemed ingrained in his very being. He was orderly, precise, staunch. A force in his own right.
Clearly, being a strong Paragon wasn’t the only thing that made him dangerous.
Lithia had erupted into organized chaos.
Drifters, clad in distinct armor, coordinated the evacuation—ushering civilians deeper into the city, towards the underground shelters—while others rushed toward the eastern wall, the ocean port, where the threat loomed largest.
The air vibrated with tension, thrumming like a drumbeat of war.
The tide was coming.
A monstrous, intransigent force—one with the power of a hundred tsunamis crashing in unison.
Northern remained still.
He had yet to summon anything—no weapons, no abilities.
He was watching. Waiting.
Waiting for the perfect moment to act.
His gaze stretched toward the city’s distant walls. Battles had already broken out—Drifters locked in combat with creatures that swooped from the skies.
These monsters were grotesque, their jagged wings tearing through brick and stone with every powerful flap.
Their beaks—long, sharp, and wicked—smashed into the city walls and buildings, sending cracks webbing across structures. A single dive, a single strike, and an unguarded Drifter’s skull would be crushed instantly.
“My liege, what should we do?”
Bairan asked, Jeci, and Lynus standing behind him.
They had remained silent until now, only speaking after Northern pulled his gaze away from the far eastern wall.
The question echoed the thoughts weighing on his mind.
“Protect them, I guess…” Northern murmured, his voice measured. “The Drifters. The civilians. Protect everyone. And make sure you kill as many monsters as you can.”
He turned slightly, meeting Jeci’s and Lynus’s gazes.
They were the same as ever.
Jeci—gentle and composed on the surface. But Northern could tell—she was suppressing something far more sinister beneath her calm exterior.
And Lynus? He wasn’t difficult to read at all.
He had been angry ever since the day Northern stole him from his homeland.
Northern wasn’t sure where that anger was directed anymore.
But as long as Lynus kept growing stronger, their deal was holding up peacefully.
The three vanished into the air the moment Northern gave his orders.
’It feels… rather strange.’
He had been in a position of leadership for a while now. Yet, he couldn’t recall ever truly acting the part.
Watching Raizel command the battlefield with such effortless precision, placing every piece exactly where it needed to be, made Northern question his own ability to lead.
Leadership wasn’t something he had asked for.
But it had been given to him nonetheless.
And the truth was, he couldn’t say for certain whether he had made good use of it.
His gaze lingered on Raizel for a few more seconds.
A disaster was approaching.
Everyone could feel it.
Perhaps not everyone—but all those at least of Master rank and beyond. Sages, Ascendants… they all sensed the looming catastrophe.
And from what Northern could tell, it was going to be a strong one.
If the monster the Drifters had just finished slaying—one that had required the combined efforts of an Ascendant and three Sages—had been an Apex Destroyer…
Then this one would most likely be a Behemoth.
A Catastrophic Behemoth.
And yet the Paragon was strangely calm. Not just him, the way he placed his hands on people’s shoulders and spoke to them, the way his air seemed to give people peace.
It was amazing!
Of course, Northern already had a Behemoth serving him as a summon.
If needed, he could disperse the incoming threat with ease.
So, there was no fear. No alarm for him.
But battles of that scale… they brought other concerns.
The city itself.
Would Lithia withstand such a clash?
Even now, standing at its walls, watching the chaos unfold—would it?
Just as the thought crossed his mind, Raizel called up to him from below.
“Ral!! It is time!”
Northern sighed.
Then, in one fluid motion, he leaped off the wall.
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The wind roared past him, his body cutting through the air like a spear before stabilizing, his descent slowing as he landed—impacting the ground with the force of a war jet.
Raizel stood motionless, watching.
Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he muttered.
“That… that didn’t look like maneuvering gravity.”
His jade-green eyes narrowed.
“…Can you fly?”
Northern nodded, his face unreadable.
“Yes. I can.”
An intrigued smile crept onto Raizel’s face. His eyes gleamed as he stared, something unreadable flickering in their depths.
Northern frowned slightly.
“…Excuse me?”
“Ah, ah! Don’t mind me,” Raizel laughed, waving a hand. “I’m just excited! But please—don’t tell me flying is all you can do?”
Northern’s expression twitched.
These questions were starting to bug him.
“Don’t be impatient, Paragon Raizel. You’ll find out soon enough.”
Raizel’s grin widened.
“Right? Right? I will, right?”
With one last glance, he finally looked away—his gaze shifting to the sky.
“This battle is going to be rough,” he said, his tone turning serious. “It’ll be airborne.”
Northern’s brow furrowed.
“…Airborne?”
’That’s his solution?’
Raizel nodded. “We can’t afford to bring the battle to the city. It would be too dangerous. We have to intercept it.” His gaze locked onto Northern once more.
“We take it down over the river.”
Raizel lowered himself slightly—then catapulted into the air.
The sheer force of his launch detonated the ground beneath him, unleashing a shockwave that shattered the earth, sending shards of debris flying in all directions.
Northern instinctively darted away, weaving through the deadly rain of splinters before swiftly redirecting himself.
A second later, he caught up, leveling with the Paragon as they soared toward the river.
As they flew, Northern’s gaze drifted downward—toward the massive, whale-like corpse below.
The thing was enormous, its lifeless body stretched across a portion of the river, its hide an obsidian black that shimmered with a strange, sinister luster.
Drifters swarmed over it, digging into its flesh, harvesting its core—and, most likely, its meat.
Northern barely spared it a second glance before shifting his focus forward.
That creature alone had required a team—a single Ascendant, three Sages, and several Savants, Masters, Nomads, Drifters—to bring down.
The one they were heading toward was far stronger.
And all they had were a Paragon and a Sage.
Northern frowned.
He could speak for himself.
But the Sage?
His thoughts froze.
’…Wait. I’m the Sage.’
He exhaled through his nose, mildly annoyed at his own natural tendency to assume everyone was beneath him.
Shaking his head slightly, he forced himself to steel his focus.
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