Northern’s head was still lowered, his hands were so tightly clenched that his fingers were digging into his palms, and he didn’t seem to care.
All that Helena said was strangely annoying, grating!
He walked forward with a deep frown and muttered:
“Let’s go.”
Helena looked at him with a blank expression. Raven walked forward too, stopping beside her, she commented:
“Did you have to go that far?”
She turned to look at Raven and returned her gaze to Northern’s retreating back.
“He’s weak-willed. He has so much potential but is shielding himself from something. People like him are the ones I hate most. But it’s quite understandable, I have seen people break apart mentally from the things that have happened in this desolation. It got to a point where even I wasn’t able to really keep it together… but what distinguishes us from others is that we embrace our fears… to be courageous does not mean we don’t have any fears. It just means we stand on our feet, legs shaking, spirit cowering but will unbroken.”
Her gaze on Northern deepened.
“This guy here is the worst. There’s no strength in acting like you don’t have any fears, pretending to be logical when everything you do reeks of fear. It’s annoying.”
She turned her head and spat in irritation.
Raven’s eyes stayed on her for a while, then she nodded.
“Looks like he is determined to go nonetheless. Shall we move?”
Helena shrugged.
“Don’t blame me if he gets killed.”
Raven scoffed.
“He won’t.”
With that, the group began their journey, with Northern walking a bit apart from the others, silent and just moving.
The path they had to traverse for now wasn’t difficult but at least sandy and somewhat strenuous to walk, so they grew quite tired in a couple of hours into their journey.
Plus, the daylight in the Sloria territory seemed to be harsher for some reason.
The journey was almost frustrating because the closer they walked to the tower, the farther it seemed from them.
And it was important to pass it because it was supposed to mark the entrance to the mountains.
The group silently walked forward, except at intervals where Raven and Terence seemed to be in conversation.
Other times, it was Helena and Terence, the Feral Sage sometimes almost looked like she was admiring a priceless jewel in the way she doted on the Tender Oracle.
She and Raven did not speak much but there were times where they exchanged a word or two out of necessity.
Northern just stayed to the side, proceeding with a gloomy air around him.
He was angry, but also at this point being objective with himself.
The things Helena said, were they really true?
He did face hell. Yes. His mind was enslaved. Yes.
And that much of a harrowing experience must have left him with severe mental trauma… that wouldn’t have been out of the ordinary.
Even though he was old enough not to be, Northern… no, Elliot, had never had this kind of harrowing experience before.
He was solely a pampered child until the moment he died. It was difficult to place high expectations on himself because in truth,
Many kids originally from Tra-el were far more resilient than he was. Take Raven for example, she definitely had stronger mental fortitude than he did.
And yet he claimed to be far older than she was in terms of the mind.
But both of them had grown up in completely different environments.
Of course, Northern didn’t know about Raven’s upbringing.
But at the least, he knew that his own was full of love, just like his old life before his parents passed away in an accident when he was in university.
He had all the love he needed, saw himself so much as a child that it was a little hard to see himself as an adult.
He became na?ve in a way…
Northern gritted his teeth even harder.
‘I wasn’t na?ve… it was just…’
As he made that excuse, he felt his arrogance soar higher.
He was being sincere with himself at the very least right now. Was he really that scared of dying?
And if he was, who wouldn’t be?
None of them had to survive by munching on red crystals.
There are no red crystals to save his butt right now.
And yet he, of all people, knew that there are greater threats than even Night Terror out there.
What was so bad with the idea of getting stronger in the Central Plains?
Are there not Drifters… take for example the few Paragons notable in the Central Plains? Did they have to come to the Continent of Stelia, to this desolation, to be as strong as they are?
And so what rule said that one needed a place like this to get strong?
As much as Northern wanted to accept that notion, Helena’s words bothered him more and more.
Would Rughsbourgh really just let him live should he get to the Central Plains?
To make the whole thing worse, he had a special case where he found himself in a rift – different from others.
It was possible that Rughsbourgh could have intentionally meant for him to be killed.
Northern couldn’t find a reason as to why the principal would want him dead.
But he was a crazy bastard who sent hundreds of innocent students to the middle of a desolate place rigged with monsters… for what? Because the hardest steels are forged in the hottest furnace?
‘Damn it!!’
It was just a lunatic idea, one that a man with any semblance of humanity shouldn’t have.
Rughsbourgh, that guy, deserved no mercy. Even death… at this point would be letting him off the hook too easily.
And right now, Northern hated to admit it, but he wasn’t confident of defeating a Paragon… no, not even a Master.
Which was why there was a need to get stronger, to become more adept with his range of abilities.
But that did not mean he accepted everything Helena said.
‘Tch, judging me like she knows a damn thing…’
None of them knew anything about him or what he had to face. So, at this point, why should he care about what they thought of him?
He didn’t ask anyone to place expectations on him, and he had no obligation to meet their judgments.
But at the same time, he was open to constructive criticism of himself… at least he felt he was.