Fighting alongside a Paragon didn't particularly excite Northern.
It wasn't all that.
But there was something about Raizel—an aura that wrapped around him like a shroud, drawing Northern's attention despite himself. Even as he tried to shift focus away, he couldn't deny it.
He stood by the wall of the city's main hall, watching as the Paragon orchestrated the city's defenses with barely a handful of words.
He exuded authority—a commanding presence so effortless it seemed ingrained in his very being. He was orderly, precise, staunch. A force in his own right.
Clearly, being a strong Paragon wasn't the only thing that made him dangerous.
Lithia had erupted into organized chaos.
Drifters, clad in distinct armor, coordinated the evacuation—ushering civilians deeper into the city, towards the underground shelters—while others rushed toward the eastern wall, the ocean port, where the threat loomed largest.
