It happened so fast! All he could hear were the screams of his comrades.
They had put so much at stake to come all the way to this place because the princess was that important.
After so much searching, they had finally found her. They'd be able to make her happy, to let her rest.
That was the least consolation. There was royal blood; finally, the ritual was going to be complete. The second coming was very nigh.
All they needed to do was propagate the gateway for their return.
It was just that alone.
And someone, a completely unknown and unexpected variable, had appeared and messed up their plans!
The cult leader's mind ran helter-skelter, discombobulated by the reality before him.
A blade burning with black flames and yellow sparks pointed directly at his eyes.
But he didn't seem to care at the moment; all that was in his mind was his aggravating failure.
'Why? Why? Why? Why have I failed her?!' his mind cried.
'Should I just go ahead and use Chaos eyes?' Northern thought.
If he used Chaos eyes, he'd be able to tell where they were again.
'No... that would be unwise. I am detecting a level of essence equal to that of Thalen, so he is undoubtedly strong.'
If he were to use the Chaos eyes and cut his stamina in half, he wouldn't lose, but it would still be unpleasant to receive an attack or two.
While Northern was in contemplation, the elf's mind was going crazy.
'He is supposed to come soon! No! I can't sabotage this too. I have to open the gateway; I have to do this. He is dangerous; this human can foil my entire plan worth decades of meticulous preparation. I have to deal with him!!'
"Hey, hey, I don't even need to know how to read your mind to know what you're thinking right now. Wanna kill me that bad?" Northern commented with a delighted look on his face.
The dark thoughts racing through the cult leader's mind were leaking everywhere on his bright and beautiful face.
His eyes had reddened, a dark and grim frown crudely contorting his facial features. He looked somewhat twisted, a hint of his handsome face still managing to reflect even in such a crazed state.
The atmosphere was suddenly released by a tremendous burst of essence.
This was not an unrefined, raw release. One moment under the pressure of the soul essence, and Northern didn't even need to use his eyes to know that this was the power of a true Savant!
It was insane how an elf could be a Savant and be a hundred levels different in strength from a human of the same rank.
Of course, Northern himself was an existence that put to shame every level difference, be it a hundred or a thousand.
He gripped Stainless more tightly, swinging it backward and lowering his stance to get ready. His eyes locked and calculating, waiting.
Then he glanced down at the panel.
[Do you want to copy Talent: Whispering Gale (A) for 600 talent fragments]
In the next beat, however, Northern suddenly froze in place, wearing a dark frown on his face.
'I can't move... and...'
The cult leader was gone. Much worse was...
'I can't sense him at all.'
He had totally erased all traces of himself; it was as if no one was there. Not even Northern could sense anything.
Which should have been impossible. Northern's face was grim; he hadn't thought that there'd be something he wouldn't be able to sense with his increased abilities.
At least not so soon.
His eyes suddenly widened as a magnanimous pressure fell on the atmosphere.
He twisted his body, wrenching himself free from the position with blood splashing out of his body as he twisted his own bone, muscle, and flesh to leave the position as fast as he could.
By the skin of his teeth, he managed to spiral away from the attack that bit into the ground, shattering the surface of the floor with a loud crack.
'What the hell was that? Why couldn't I sense the danger in that attack?!'
Northern's instincts had reacted in circumspect to the level of danger of the attack. He could feel something gnawing at his throat, yet at the same time, he could feel nothing.
It was so deceptive; the entirety of the attack, its presence, and intent were perfectly hidden, created to throw their enemy off.
Northern took a glance around the areas of his body where blood was leaking.
Majorly his joints; his shoulder was dislocated, his legs were also bent outwardly.
The cult leader slowly rose from the unsuccessful attack, clouds of dust clearing to reveal his intense fiery expression.
He watched as Northern's body crudely snapped back into shape. The white-haired boy straightened himself up and cracked his neck to the left and right.
"I was mistaken to have underestimated you. Looks like you have a very tricky talent..."
Of course, he did. He was an elf, after all. They and everyone in the underworld had a better understanding of Talent and talent abilities, soul essence, and its application.
Even the weakest of them would be an opponent he needed to be careful against.
Caladhel and Sura had proved that to him.
'No doubt about it. He is stronger than Cal. But of course not Sura.'
Northern observed the man for a while. He slowly stepped back, entering into the bosom of the depths of the underground, unilluminated by the rays of the dual moonlights from above. He breathed in sharply, his hands tightening around Stainless.
The pain in his joints throbbed, enhanced by the pain of Chaos Thread fixing him. Blood dripped slowly from his wounds, but he ignored it.
The ground shifted slightly under his feet, an almost imperceptible tremor.
Northern's eyes darted to the left, sensing something, but again, nothing registered.
His mind was running through every possibility, trying to figure out and understand what
trick the elf was using to evade his senses.
And then, there it was.