With both versions of himself barring the monsters' path and preventing them from pressing toward the retreating party, things grew rather gruesome.
He couldn't afford to conserve much of his essence anymore. Of course, he had accepted that fact already.
Right now, what he wanted was to create a containment with the last of his essence and trap the monsters within it until someone sensible came along.
His clones would probably vanish and he would have to return to a slumbering body, but that was alright.
There were so many things he worried about, but he couldn't afford to dwell on them.
All he needed to do was wake up.
Hell would break loose when he did.
Northern, after confirming that the party of Drifters had all retreated behind the coliseum, stopped moving.
