It was an appalling realization, really—to discover that the one enemy his first hell had gifted him had simply refused to die. It was almost traumatic.
But Northern felt that was all there was to it. In fact, he was rather glad Koll was back—or had been lurking in the Central Plains all along. He didn't know which was the case, but his guess leaned toward the latter.
There was no way Koll had survived all his previous encounters. Northern was certain of that fact, as certain as the cold beneath his skin. Which led him to only one conclusion—this must be the main body of Koll, the true one, who had somehow slipped through the imprisonment in the Dark Continent.
Whichever way it was, Northern found a grim satisfaction blooming inside him.
He had been craving a test—something, anything to challenge the peak of his power—and now, it just so happened that Koll was alive. What other divine intervention could this be described as?
