With how inexplicable the situation had become, Northern stared indifferently at the new creature with an eerie calmness.
His stance was slightly bent, extending the Mortal Blade in the pursuit of blood and flesh… to render the terror, or rather, terrors, that stood before him asunder.
One of them had been enough trouble already.
Well, it was unsure if he remembered how much of a difficulty facing Night Terror posed. Although, despite the fact that his consciousness was lost to the cold darkness of oblivion, his instincts still inflicted a memory of fear from that encounter.
Maybe he was tentatively looking at them right now because of the unspoken, ignored memories of fear that coursed not through his head, but his muscles.
The two terrors stood apart from him, one holding a wicked, corrupted pole steel with a sharp needle-like tip that was almost kissing the ground.
