Chapter 58 Lost Boy

Chapter 58 Lost Boy

Northern lost track of how much time had passed, after the death of his favorite monster... well, second favorite. He found himself succumbing to a strong desire to stop trying.

And it wasn't that hard to succumb to.

With the prospect that wars offered, his growth, most importantly–Northern didn't see this as him succumbing to some trap of some sort.

He didn't even think this was the doing of the rift.

After seeing his death angel died, he began to think deeply a single thing.

What would happen one day if the Kingdom of Red Mine are not able to defeat its foes.

They would be ravaged instead, slaughtered, their bloods ghastly carpeting the cursed fields of wherever their doom descended.

The thought of it made chills claw his spine.

'I don't want to die'

And so Northern began to fight harder.

The first instance he was consumed by rage, every part of his body felt numb, uncontrollable. His present limit was tested and a great potential was brought out in the middle of that bloody war in the dark forest.

Afterwards, Northern suffered the weight of pushing himself to the limit.... Albeit subconsciously.

He couldn't move for days... sorry, nights.

He laid in his round room, ate on his bed, times when he had to move were when he needed to use the toilet.

The loo in another dimensional was no different from the one in Tra-el, the design was sort of scary though. It was like a monster's mouth.

He felt like he was putting his dump into the mouth of a monster.

Apart from that time Northern would occasionally carry himself to the side of the window and sit on the table beside it.

Many times he just laid there and thought of the future. Until he recovered.

When he recovered, he didn't take it easy with himself.

The need to get stronger now bore upon his soul like a mountain of dread.

So that the kingdom of Red Mine will stand victorious forever, he began to train.

He began to spar with every monster, walking a slow road to being familiar with his own movements.

Northern would watch it make mistakes, and pay obedience to him.

Despite suspecting where this strange Night Terror could be from, he didn't do anything about it. Didn't felt like he needed to.

In fact, the memory felt like a dream... an illusion, something he must have cooked up in his head at some point.

This wars felt more like reality.

The joy of victory was overwhelming.

Watching his foes fall to his crude blade was an ecstasy.

The awe and honor the monsters reveried him with was reality. The loftiness of his presence amidst them... that felt right.

Unawared... that slowly, he was being consumed by a madness.

What ever justification his reasons were... war was war.

Bloodshed is bloodshed.

And he didn't want this one to end, for every battle one, he looked forward to the challenge of an even stronger horde of monsters.

The kingdom of Red Mine practically became impenetrable but the battles did not stop.

And Northern stopped questioning.

He grinned and laughed as he separated heads, as bloods splatter on his face, he licked his lips with flames of madness burning in his blue eyes.

There was no more retribution at this point.

Northern was deep into the act of war, all the more, growing at it... frighteningly.

He didn't stop training. Getting used to his own movements... began to use his clone less.

At a point, the voice of both the system and Ul did not reach him anymore.

Maybe he forgot he has a clone.

He forgot he needed to hunt for talent fragments.

He forgot he was in the rift.

He became a lost boy.

And one day... he forgot his name too... or that he even ever had one.