The essence of existence is woven so intricately that while every life has its own delicate order tying it to the essence of reality, there is also disorder.
It’s a simple, fair equilibrium between positive and negative, good and evil, sanity and insanity, order and chaos, life and death.
This delicate balance is the fundamental makeup of every breath of life, such that as it is susceptible to exist, it is also—to cease to exist.
Chaos is what the other side of this balance is called; chaos is negativity, chaos is malevolence, chaos is insanity, chaos is death.
A conceptual understanding of this fact settled in Northern’s mind the moment he began to follow each ligature.
The thousand waves of ligatures were like paths to a much greater chaos, so perplexing, yet Northern couldn’t initially discern why he had such a definite grasp over every single one of them.
Following each one was like treading on a burning road, the heat, the fear, the danger of destruction assailed him from all sides.
And yet there was a limit, something he figured could only be possible because he had the vestige of the Chaos Prince.
Even so, it was already enough burden and detriment for him to bear; the ligatures were already perilous enough when he saw the Chaos in every existence.
The trees, as simple and harmless as they were—held an overwhelming convolution of destruction, and yet contained and peaceful.
So peaceful that Northern couldn’t help but ponder how powerful the other side of this chaos must be to maintain balance and peace with this level of insanity.
And how was it that every living being, every thing that had a breath of life found its source in such destruction?
The concept of chaos being an integral source of creation was something he couldn’t quite comprehend.
It was hard to accept, even though there was an inherent and perfect understanding of its violent nature in his mind, one that made him truly understand the overwhelming effect of using the active skill of [Chaos] and how much damage it could bring not just to him but to the entire world.
Looking at the chaos ligatures and sources made Northern realize that he was powerful but heavily limited by the concept of balance.
Unless he planned to destroy the world, could he break free from such limitation.
However, this understanding caused Northern to question something.
What is it that the Chaos Prince wanted to achieve with such overwhelming power? What had he hoped to destroy and why?
The murals depicted these strange beings, and it was clear they were not a history of Tra-el but of a different world, one that must be an integral part of the rift.
Or had the Chaos Prince hoped to destroy the rift?
Were there even rifts when the Chaos Prince existed? It would have been relatively easy for him to destroy rifts with such power.
And this was only a fraction of what he wielded… or maybe not, but it was his vestige.
Meaning that it was only a trace of the true thing.
Thinking about how powerful the Chaos Prince must have been made Northern break out in a cold sweat.
No wonder such an existence could break the sun.
Just imagine shattering an entire daystar.
Northern shuddered.
‘Let’s just focus on finding the monster’s body.’
It was a lot of work tracing each ligature, it was as though there were thousands of tangled threads, and one was trying to untangle them and find which one led to the eye of the needle.
And it was taking quite some time, such that his cohort’s curiosity was reaching its peak.
“What do you think he’s doing?” Helena whispered.
“I don’t know…”
She left a prolonged gaze on Raven and downturned her lips.
“That’s quite disappointing, considering that he is your buddy. I figured that you would know him more than anyone else.”
Raven frowned.
“We are not buddies… all I know about him are theories that don’t add up in my head. If they really are correct, then it makes no sense as to why such a person like him would even exist. Which is why I try not to overthink it…”
Helena’s eyes went round.
“Oh oh? It’s already at the stage where you are trying to stop yourself from overthinking?”
“I hate how you’re making that sound.”
“Oh, you hate it? Okay then, I call dibs on him then.”
Raven scowled at her.
“Aren’t you supposed to be older than us…?”
“What, do I look like I’m twenty-four?”
Raven sighed and averted her eyes.
Suddenly, the entire forest shuddered, causing the rest of the three of them to look around in alertness.
Raven extended her hands a little outward and summoned her swords.
Helena’s hands were slightly opened and ready to grip on anything any moment from now.
Terence was surprisingly the calmest of them, her golden eyes were glowing and were fixated on Northern.
The entire forest became gloomy and began to rumble eerily; the weather of the night was the usual cold, this level of rumbling would have hinted at a very heavy thunderstorm, but the winds were calm and unmoving.
If anything, they were too quiet.
Terence moved her head slightly and looked away from Northern, gazing deep into the forest.
“Something is coming… people… a lot of people.”
She glanced at Northern, “Whatever Mr. Northern is trying to do must be working. The sudden changes must mean the monster now senses a threat.”
The delicate Oracle looked at Helena and asked:
“Has there ever been a time before now where the monster fights first…”
Helena lingered, then answered:
“I don’t know if it can be called a fight, but yes, every time a cohort comes here, they end up not doing what they come here to do… they even end up fighting against each other, arguments, hatred, discord, and eventually no one returns. It’s always a hassle finding my way back.”
“If that is the case, it is choosing a different means of attack this time. Then it’s quite obvious that it had tried to use mental attacks on us, and that didn’t work. Now, it’s sending people.”
Helena was silent for a while, looking at the priestess. Then she couldn’t help but worriedly ask:
“Sorry, which people?”
Terence glanced up and returned her gaze to the depth of the woods, contorting a slight frown on her face.
“All the people it had taken so far…”