Northern continued to glare at Rughsbourgh with a dark grimace. He wore the night over his face like armor and looked like the incarnation of a grim reaper who wanted nothing but to harvest the soul of vile evil and disaster—someone who did everything but die.
His mind remained sharp, despite being in a severely weakened state from the battle with the Leviathan. Rughsbourgh had just exhibited a power that was utterly foreign to Northern.
From what he could see, the only explanation Northern could devise was Spatial Manipulation.
It would be brutal if Rughsbourgh's talent was spatial.
'Come to think of it… teleportation.'
The memory struck him suddenly, and Northern grew even more certain. The letter he had received from Rughsbourgh possessed some strange ability that had teleported him. The circle of light he had seen in the hall moments before he was also teleported to the rift, along with the others to the Dark continent.
