Northern walked into the Tower, admiring its remarkable structure.
The interior was chilly, welcoming him into a cool embrace that served as a sanctuary from the searing heat he was enduring outside.
But it was more than that, every corner, every element that made up this sentinel, exuded the craftsmanship of a being that has far transcended the limitations of mortality.
Northern couldn’t help but envision this as the handiwork of some kind of transcendent entity.
But that was not what caught his attention or amazed him the most.
There were intricately carved texts of some sort on the walls, crowding every nook like the inscriptions of a brilliant mind.
Something about this place made him remember the ruin he and Night Terror had stumbled upon in the mountain.
Something about it felt so familiar, and he couldn’t help but be drawn to it.
So he walked forward with his eyes fixated on them.
When Northern stopped in front of the wall, directly opposite the main entrance—which also marked the point where the spiraling smooth stairs began—he took a deep breath and keenly examined what he saw.
At first glance, they looked puzzling. Northern was certain that this was a type of runic script that was not studied in Tra-el.
After all, he was quite the writer and had studied three different languages, including symbolic representation and runic scripts.
Although, they had slight strokes here and there that could hint at a striking resemblance to Tra-el’s runic writing style.
But they were essentially different, in fact, vastly different from each other.
The problem, however, was…
He could understand it.
And the only scenario where he reckoned this could happen was when he could speak the monster language without ever learning or hearing it before.
And now, he could comprehend these runic scripts, when he had never even seen them before.
He could read them as if he were reading normal runic letters.
He was almost deluded into thinking he was mistaken, that this could just be the runic script he was accustomed to in Tra-el.
But no.
Northern was sure.
The strokes were too different to be it… it definitely didn’t belong to Tra-el.
However, he was beginning to consider the possibility that it could belong to another civilization.
Else, it would have been impossible for the basis of both runic languages to be common.
It made no sense…
Northern flipped his white bangs and placed his hand tiredly on his forehead.
He paused for a while… that was when Raven entered.
However, he didn’t need to look back to know it was Raven. All he had to do was unfocus his eyeballs on one eye and glance sideways to see.
And then he focused on what he was reading.
The texts were random, so it was tough to piece them together.
Hence, Northern figured he needed to find the beginning of them.
He paused and stood silently, thinking deeply about why he could understand these things.
Why could he speak to a monster and converse like one?
Something had to be at play in this situation.
Something had to be involved.
And honestly, he could think of a limited number of what it could be—and one of them stood out quite differently.
The strange man in the beginning.
Northern sighed and shook his head.
‘Let’s move past that for now…’
Yes. He had to focus on what was in front of him. He had to figure out ‘the present’.
So, he was going to trace it from the beginning.
That was when Helena entered and dropped Terence beside the entrance.
Of course, Northern didn’t have to turn his head as usual.
His face grimaced with irritation as she entered.
Her words rang in his head again.
In all honesty, people like her had to be the kind of people he hated the most.
People who don’t mind their own business and think they are some tarot card readers that can tell one’s past, present, and future just by picking a few cards and reading the lines on their hand.
‘Utterly vexing…’ he seethed inwardly.
As much as she irritated him so much, he couldn’t fight against her.
Even if he did, to what end was it?
She might be a Sage, but he was sure he had ways to defeat her… yes, he was getting somewhat confident in himself, albeit out of spite and arrogance.
He could use his True Name ability to render her nameless.
But he didn’t want to do that…
It really served no purpose.
He would just focus on a way to move forward on his own. If it demanded that he travels differently from the Cohort, then at this point, he didn’t mind.
Ignoring the two ladies that seemed to be whispering something to each other, Northern walked back to the entrance, glanced down at the unconscious Terence, and continued to inspect the texts.
He shook his head.
‘No, this is not it…’
Then he walked forward again, he was about to take his first step up the stairs when Raven’s voice resounded in the darkness.
“Northern,” she called, albeit softly.
Northern paused and looked at her—maybe for them seeing in the darkness was a bit too much… especially Raven’s case, but not for him—she took a couple of steps forward and stopped about three feet away from him.
She didn’t seem to be struggling with the darkness, at least not that much.
Northern responded with an irritated tone.
“What?”
“How… Did you open the door to this place? This is supposed to be a Tower that no one has ever entered. Not to mention, it’s a creation of the rift.”
Northern withdrew his step from the first stair and turned to her, frowning a little.
“What do you mean it’s a creation of the rift? What rift?” He inquired.
Helena joined the conversation.
“We are not sure, but the priestess said the Tower didn’t used to be here and only appeared a couple of months after the rift broke out.”
Northern’s frown deepened; what they were saying was beginning to sound nonsensical.
“So you’re saying, the Tower was not there, and voila, the Tower is there now.”
Helena grimaced at him but exhaled and responded:
“I don’t know what voila means, but if you mean by how absurdly true this is, then yes. The Tower was not here before, and voila, it is now.”