Northern returned to the airship but didn't seek out Lord. That one had gotten enough of his attention already—it was time to focus on someone else now that Lord had seen significant growth.
'I haven't even set my eyes on him all this while.'
He reached the lower level of the ship—a deck below the compartment where he, his mother, and the students had their rooms.
This level looked more dungeon-like, all exposed piping and dim lighting, but Abyss Tyrant wasn't confined to any particular environment. He was free to walk wherever pleased him. And right now, this was just where he was.
Northern descended the stairs and walked through a hallway lined with large metal doors. The air here was warmer, thicker with the smell of oil and heated metal. Beyond the far end of the corridor, he could make out a silhouette—tall, motionless, holding a staff with a crescent moon at its helm.
