I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 755: The Menace of Battle



The passageway between the towering ice walls was littered with a sickening sight, one that could prompt vomiting. The abominations lay brutally severed, their limbs cleanly cut. In some, the spray of gore was frozen mid-air, while others were completely pale as they died with wide eyes and screeches that never made it out.

Maroon blood painted the lower reaches of the wall, plastered in artistic savagery.

The terrifying cries of several more creatures thundered across the battlefield as they fell to the cold, sharp edges of the ice swords one after the other.

Hundreds had been laid to graceless rest-if they did rest at all. Their corpses piled upon one another, forming heaps behind the weaver of chaos who only pressed forward.

Northern was relentless, even though he was already feeling the fingers of exhaustion tickling his legs. He was nearing his physical limit with each movement of his hands, his legs, each slight pivot, each great leap.

But he was still far from dropping to the ground, covered in buckets of trickling sweat.

His swords still danced menacingly across the battlefield, slaying monsters. In and out of sessions, he would use echo to multiply its effect-usually when he wasn't sure he had dealt a decisive blow, he easily resorted to the freezing effect of the sword, using ice manipulation in a cunning and smart manner.

Northern was a menace on the battlefield, and the creatures... they were beginning to realize

it.

Their movements grew slower, their balance faltered as he descended upon them with ferocious speed. It made his viciousness all the more pronounced.

Disastrous, Calamitous Hellions all reacted the same way when they came against the brutality of this sword. And they met the same fate.

The experience he had gained from the Dark continent was no doubt a great boon and fundamental formation of what had come to be his combat style today-of course, a large part of that being [Formless] that added to its ingenuity.

The days of training with Bairan had proven explosively rewarding. Most of the things the sword king often taught him were in theory: how to better handle his weight and shift it to gain a controlled and expected result.

Being in perfect control of the battle momentum, keeping your wits on the edge of a cliff, and expanding your control over the entire combat field to gain equilibrium both with your own body and your environment.

With each of his movements, he could almost hear the sword king's words echoing in his head.@@novelbin@@

All those lessons, he took and sharpened them to a cold blade. Such that it did not matter what kind of weapon he was using, the effect was the same.

Northern suddenly burst forward, leaving a trail of blue light behind. He glared wickedly at the deformed creature before him, the poor thing staggering back with a scared shriek.

Belatedly narrowing its black eyes in a murderous glare, it threw its hands forward. Northern's sword sliced through the hands, the two frozen blades already making an unconventional turn.

Before the creature had time to let out an agonizing scream, its head flew off as a radiant cross slashed across its neck.

Northern muttered afterward:

"Phantom strike."

Several others followed in the fashion of the creature's brutal death.

Northern took a pause, his breath slightly ragged as he watched blood burst into the air in a savage manner. His eyes radiated coldness and were impassive to the grotesque scenery. Finally, after a couple of arduous hours, he had laid waste to all the creatures, hundreds of them, and him alone. Not to mention, they were all Hellion ranks.

The rift trembled slightly again, causing Northern to frown and pause a second later.

He turned back and said to the two behind him, his voice cold as usual.

"You guys... uhm, maybe want to move back? The one coming will definitely be the rift guardian. We don't have the numbers to worry about. But this one alone is supposed to pose more threat than all the minions combined... If you get what I mean."

He fell silent, observing them for a while, really hoping they wouldn't be stubborn.

To his surprise, without any words, the two of them began to step further away.

'Uhh?'

He scratched his neck slightly, unsure what had changed in about two hours. They were looking at him strangely too.

Northern opened his mouth slightly, wanting to ask if everything was fine. But the rift trembled again, this time ten times stronger than the last.

The vibration and soft hum of the shattered surface was somewhat gleaming with malice. Northern couldn't quite put it into words, but the pressuring air that the rift exuded suddenly felt heavier.

It made his discomfort crawl upon his skin like a spider.

'I don't like what this is looking like at all...'

The creature slowly walked out of the rift. At first, Northern's eyes were squinted as he watched its form slowly tear out of the rippling form.

Then his eyes widened with what he saw next. The rift guardian was nothing like its minions.

The creature was over four meters tall, easily dwarfing him. It had hands so long that its fingers were being dragged on the ground as it took slow steps.

Compared to the others, it had no eyes-where eyes should have been rather, something that looked like sharpened and silver-polished metal had been stabbed into it, even glistening with silvery sheen.

Black liquid dripped down the sockets of the creature like tears, and its mouth was wide, filled with needle-like teeth, thousands of them all clustered together without a care in the world for proper dentition.

Northern swallowed his spit. He had no idea when it had made it there.

Despite their unnerving look, it was just a Maelstrom. A Calamitous Maelstrom. Maybe 'just' was an unfair word but he had fought worse.

And yet...

'... Why do I feel so disturbed? This thing... it keeps bugging me. Like something is wrong. Very

very wrong.'

Northern shrugged and summoned the illusioned hefter in one hand, igniting plumes of

cantaloupe flames.

'I'll just kill it off.'