I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Northern landed gracefully, his steps silent as he casually approached the girl.

Yet, despite his composed movements, the look on his face was grim. Serious.

Roma, noticing the change in his expression, frowned as he got closer.

"What happened? You look like you’ve lost hope in the world."

Northern lingered for a moment before responding.

"Actually, that might have been a better choice." His voice was quiet, yet heavy. "Rather, it seems the world, has already decided to abandon us."

A rigid seriousness crossed his face. Roma’s frown deepened.

"What do you mean exactly? Speak clearly."

Northern let out an exasperated sigh, his gaze dimming with something somber.

"I think it’s better if I show you."

He extended his hand toward her.

Roma hesitated, her eyes flicking between his outstretched hand and the bleakness in his face. She knew what this meant. Knew what would happen if she accepted—exactly what she had slapped herself for thinking about just moments ago.

But she also felt the gravity of the moment, the dire weight of the air Northern carried.

She took his hand.

Without another word, he pulled her close, and in the next instant, they vanished into the sky.

Northern held her tightly against him as they soared. For a fleeting moment, his mind wandered.

Had he ever been this close to someone before?

Had he forgotten?

’No. I don’t think so. If I had, I would have remembered.’

At least, within the confines of this world.

A few moments later, Northern descended toward the base of the mountain—a vast, snow-covered plain that led into a dense white forest, far thicker than the one where they had fought the centipede-like monsters.

Roma’s eyes widened as they neared the ground.

She could already see it.

A grotesque spectacle of carnage.

Blood stained the pristine snow, splattered in chaotic sprays, forming tiny crimson rivers. Bodies lay scattered across the expanse, their lifeless eyes frozen in silent screams—snuffed out forever by the cruel fangs of death.

The entire caravan had been slaughtered.

The deep lacerations that marred their corpses spoke of a vulgar, methodical brutality.

Roma staggered backward, her body trembling, then turned abruptly and emptied the contents of her stomach onto the ground.

Northern, meanwhile, remained still. His cold gaze swept over the devastation.

He had seen worse.

Silently, he stepped forward, scanning each corpse for any sign of life. But there were none.

Eventually, he reached the first cargo.

The mounts had suffered the same fate as the mercenaries who once guided them. Brutally slain, their bodies split open by deep, merciless cuts. Their blood had long dried.

From the looks of it, this had happened hours ago.

’Safety… really is an illusion.’

Maybe if the caravan had stayed with him, their chances of survival would have been higher.

Or maybe not.

Despite his overwhelming strength, Northern couldn’t shake the suffocating feeling of helplessness that coiled around him.

He never burdened himself with the responsibility of protecting others. He wasn’t foolish enough to think he could.

But still…

If the people around him couldn’t even be lucky enough to survive—then what was all his power for?

Was power alone enough to protect someone?

Or was there something else?

For the first time in a long while, Northern felt confused. Deeply confused.

All this time, he had prioritized his pursuit of strength—to stand at the pinnacle of the world. And now, he was closer than ever, making strides in barely two years that others wouldn’t achieve in a lifetime.

He had come so far.

So why did it feel like he was failing?

Each step brought him closer to the power he sought—yet further away from something else. Something he didn’t even know he was missing.

Northern stopped, his gaze falling upon a familiar corpse.

The woman who had jumped in front of him last night.

Her voice had been vibrant, her beauty enchanting.

Now, all that was left of her was a pitiful, mangled husk.

He exhaled tiredly and looked away.

Even Jezter was dead.

His body lay a few meters ahead, a limb missing. Rivulets of dried blood trailed from the first cargo to where he had collapsed, a large, gaping hole torn through his back.

Northern winced.

’What could have caused that?’

Before he could dwell on the question, Roma approached him.

Her hands clenched at her sides, her body trembling. She lingered, struggling with something.

Northern frowned slightly.

"What?"

"…I’m sorry."

The words fell from her lips, quiet and broken. She lowered her head, shame contorting her face, her shoulders trembling, her voice quaking as she continued.

"I was stupid and shortsighted—saying something like no one would die." Her breath hitched. "Argh! I was so short-sighted that I disgust myself."

Northern regarded her with an indifferent expression.

But there was something else, something strange buried in his gaze—an emotion he couldn’t quite place.

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’At least she’s wise enough to realize when she was wrong.’

Roma inhaled sharply, steadied herself, and straightened.

"…It’s fine if you want to return to Verulania at this point," she said, her voice steadier now. "I will find a way to get the cargo to the blockade."

Northern frowned immediately.

’Okay, I was definitely not expecting that.’

Even after everything, she still intended to move forward?

The mounts were dead. The caravan was gone. Moving the cargo alone was impossible.

And yet… she was still going to try?

Why? For Gareon? @@novelbin@@

’That’s such a stupid thing to do. Gareon is dead. The only thing she should be worried about right now is her safety.’

Even Northern, with all his power, was beginning to reconsider his options. Not out of fear—but because of the festival.

He had prepared so much for it. He didn’t want to leave the execution of his plans to a clone. And the dangers that kept falling upon them, one after another… if they continued, it would be difficult to check in on his clones or excuse himself when necessary.

Honestly, he was considering returning with her.

He could simply tell the shopkeeper how much of a failure this mission had been.

But this girl—

Even with everything lost, she refused to give up.

Even when there was no way forward.

Was this determination? Or just plain stupidity?

Why is there fire in her eyes?

Why does she look ready to die?

All for what?

Northern felt his mind racing with a thousand thoughts as he stared at her in disbelief.

Why did she seem stronger than him right now? How was that possible?

He had never felt this way before. Never met someone who made him feel… lacking.

His teeth clenched.

Silently, Northern glared at her from behind his mask.

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[A/N]

Been a while guys. Everything is progressing, and I am promising peak in this arc. If you noticed a few inconsistencies in the writing style, it is because I have been hell bent recently on getting better. I feel I’m at the point of a breakthrough and yet it feels so difficult, but I’m trying, I want to her better as a writer so I can write many more interesting stories in beautiful and capturing words.

You can support me by giving me your sincere thoughts, I’m also very open to criticism.

Thank you for always supporting. Even though readers engagement has reduced drastically and the book seems to be falling, I will keep trying my best, getting better to deliver peak for the people that stay.

Keep voting power stones and golden tickets. Your support is all that keeps me going.