“This is crazy… I don’t understand how he is even alive.” Braham said with a puzzled frown straining his face.
After bringing Northern out of the rift, he began examining him under the persistent command of Annette.
He didn’t know who this young man could have been to have the cold hearted drunkard change so much.
For the few minutes that Northern had been brought in, Annette had spoken more than she had in the past six months.
The identity of this person bothered not only him but almost every member of the cohort.
He was the sole survivor of the rift that was growing.
There was so many questions he needed to answer.
Questions like, how long had he been in the rift?
Who killed those monsters they saw in the castle?
And who is he? Is he even a student like them?
Letting out a sigh, Braham brushed away all the thoughts and decided to do what he was asked.
Braham was not particularly a healer nor did he have a healing based talent. It was just a talent ability he received after reaching the Nomad rank a few months ago.
Of course, unlike Northern, Braham was from a noble family.
The son of a Count who is a well respected diplomat in the nation of Pyr’Eldoria.
As such he was provided with more than enough resources for growth.
Despite how promising his talent was, Braham had failed the academy entrance exam for reasons he would not tell anyone but was later rescouted by the former principal.
Even before being scouted, he had been into rifts three times, he was already on the verge of entering the nomad rank.
He had a edge over everyone… well, except one person.
Braham took the container that was next to him and closed his eyes.
The container was filled with sand, as his hands came upon it, something from the embrace of the sand began to shimmer with green glow.
In a seconds, a seed sprouted out sand, and bloomed into a yellow star-shaped flower.
Braham placed the container on Northern’s chest and exhaled slowly. Then he placed his hands on his laps and closed his eyes one more time.
The petals of the flower began to fall and the green stem stretched wider, becoming a vine that slowly crawled over Northern’s body, branching out of each other and running over his war-torn armor to touch every part of his body.
When the vine had encased Northern’s body in whole. The healing process was to start.
But Braham suddenly opened his eyes and frowned, a drop of sweat running down his face.
He watched the vine get corrupted: turning from vibrant green to purplish-black and withering into crumbs.
A strained smile parted his lips.
‘What the hell is this bastard? No soul core? No soul essence but I can tell he is freaking strong’
Braham shrugged and stood up, bending out of the tent where others stood.
Annette looked at him intensely as he came out and asked:
“Are you done?”
Braham allowed a small smile, looked at her and shifted his gaze to the Headmaster before responding:
“Something about him is refusing my healing essence. I don’t know… but I think he’ll be fine on his own. He is body is that ruined and yet somehow, he is breathing.”
Gilbert nodded and touched his shoulder.
“Thank you Braham.”
He faced the others and addressed them.
“Let’s return to the castle while we wait for him to wake up, for now there’s little we can do, we have no choice but to wait until he is awake to know the situation of things.”
They all nodded in agreement, different sparks ignited their eyes.
Seeing that flood of monster corpse, they couldn’t but be so happy. They were so fortunate not to have faced those hordes themselves.
Maybe the legion would not have even made it back.
They were just so happy.
And again, they’ve found a survivor. Not everytime does one find a survivor in this desolation swarming with monsters.
In a couple of hours, the legion were already marching back to Lotheliwan, a few shoulders carried slain monsters and a wolf, not minding as their body was smeared by dark blood.
—
Northern’s eyes slid open. A vast darkness filled with ethereal glows of different colors stretched far and wide his surrounding.
It was like he was floating in it.
But he could feel his legs standing on something sturdy… perhaps that was the ground.
However, this ground was not different from the darkness that surrounded him.
Everywhere was the same.
And strangely. It felt so familiar.
Northern could guess, although he was not sure.
‘Limitless Void…’
This was the first time he was finding himself in it.
“Ah. That’s right, I defeated Night Terror… I must have absorbed the other Vestige of the Chaos Prince when I did.” He looked around, “I suppose everything is now complete in me.” Northern murmured, touching his chest.
Like he had said, he could feel something vast and hollow within himself. It was strong… and incredibly powerful.
Northern just could tell that he had grown so much from killing Night Terror.
But the best was yet to come.
The area suddenly shuddered and began to break apart.
“Huh… what is happening?” Northern’s voice wavered.
Fear gripped his heart as he saw cracks running across the darkness. The space trembled powerfully.
Limitless Void… as he thought it to be was breaking apart.
However, his fears completely disappeared after seeing the system’s notification.
[Congratulations]
[Your soul has evolved]
[You have become a drifter]
[All talent abilities can now be used however you want]
[All weapon abilities can now be used however you want]
[All attributes of copied talent have been unsealed and are taking root in your soul]
[Your copied talent have been converted to owned talent]
[A new talent slot has been added]
[You have absorbed the second Vestige of the Chaos Prince]
[A change is happening in your soul]
[You have gained three new attributes]
As these torrent of messages from the system flooded his vision, the breaking scenery finally shattered and Northern found himself, standing in a dark colossal hall.
The hall stretched endlessly, devoid of light. Towering pillars, immense as ancient redwoods, lined the sides in solemn rows, holding aloft the vaulted ceiling high overhead.
Intricate patterns were meticulously engraved into the arching stone canopy above, details barely discernible in the enveloping gloom.
At the farthing end of the vast hall, a short flight of stairs led up to a throne – though throne seemed an inadequate term for the colossal seat.
It loomed ahead, constructed on a scale befitting the residence of a titanic giant, with armrests extending like the wings of a slumbering dragon.
Yet before the stairs crested, an impenetrable wall of undulating black flames barred further progress, illuminating the shadowy space in a ghostly danse macabre.
The floor itself was as smooth as a dark mirror, reflecting the flicking shadows in haunting distortion across its glassy surface.
An oppressive silence reigned over the immense hall, broken only by Northern’s own breathe.
“What… the hell?”
His voice echoed endlessly through the limitless Void.