I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Northern barely exerted himself, his body weaving through the air like a phantom wind, dealing devastation with minimal effort.

Yet Northern's "minimal" proved catastrophic for the Behemoth monsters. Their wings shredded like tissue paper under his touch, their massive forms teetering at death's edge before Northern's summons delivered the final blow.

Northern harbored no concerns about gathering talent fragments; kills by his summons counted as his own.

The battle unfolded with unexpected gentleness, the softest confrontation he'd experienced thus far. This softness created a jarring contrast against the oppressive atmosphere of destruction surrounding him.

A nagging sensation crept through Northern's mind—something felt wrong. Like something different was approaching. He could, if desired, employ chaos eyes to glimpse his future, but certain abilities Northern had decided to get comfortable not using because of its cost and some other things.

He had attempted several times, and though successfully utilizing the foresight of chaos eyes, integrating it into his combat art hadn't come naturally. Such integration required him to perpetually dwell in the future.

Despite Northern's enhanced battle intelligence, some abilities taxed his mental capacity beyond reasonable limits. His mind, formidable as it was, had boundaries.

Thus far, extensive use of Chaos Eyes continued to burden him considerably.

'I guess I just have to wait it out…'

The instant this thought completed itself in Northern's mind, a dark scowl transformed his features. His blue eyes glinted with wariness, like ice catching dangerous light.

Each of his summons, engaged with various Behemoths, simultaneously felt the terrifying aura ripple through the battlefield.

Night Terror, in the midst of shredding an abomination, froze suddenly. His shoulders quivered, and his flaming red gaze shifted toward the rift.

Black Mamba likewise halted abruptly but recovered swiftly, harvesting the head of his opponent with one fluid sword stroke before his eyes narrowed to watchful slits.

The battle paused momentarily. The overwhelming pressure commanded attention—no being strong enough to recognize it could look away.

This new presence dwarfed everything that had transpired, reducing previous conflicts to mere child's play.

'Has the Leviathan found a way to emerge…'

Northern frowned as he observed the rift, glancing down to one of his roofs where the Crimson Lord stood vigilant, awaiting command.

The Crimson Lord constituted an army unto himself.

His soul contained multitudes: a Spearman, a Spellcaster, a Knight, and two others wielding strange weapons, not to mention the Crimson Lord himself.

This embodied a Belial power, and was what marked him as an Apex creature. Still, Northern couldn't shake the feeling that he had defeated the Crimson Lord with surprising ease, considering the legendary power Belials supposedly possessed.

The Crimson Lord, a Belial himself, remained stationary by Northern's command, poised for the moment when fellow Belials would breach the rift.

They were the final rank to overcome before anyone might witness progress from the trapped hand.

Northern shifted his gaze to the rift.

'Today, I will know how strong and powerful a Belial is truly supposed to be.'

As this thought crystallized, the entire dark sky rippled with a thunderous sound like reality itself tearing apart, causing Northern to scowl immediately.

Paragon Raizel suddenly arrived beside him.

"What's the situation?"

Not exactly sudden, considering how Northern remained unshaken and responded casually as though he'd anticipated the Paragon's arrival.

"The Behemoths are being contained. I think... I don't know but I thinj the next creatures to emerge will be Belials. They'll likely surpass anything we've encountered thus far."

Northern shifted his gaze to study the Paragon's face after speaking.

Paragon Raizel folded his arms, squinting at the rift. After several heartbeats of silence:

"Ral."

Northern paused before responding.

"Yes?"

"Have you ever heard of the danger level 'Devil'?"

Northern considered briefly, shrugged and nodded slightly.

"Yes, I have. They're quite rare, though. It's easier to encounter an Apex than to find something classified as Devil or Abysmal danger level."

Paragon Raizel turned to Northern, wincing.

"Apex creatures aren't exactly common either. I believe you possess truly rotten luck."

Northern gulped, finding himself momentarily speechless. Thankfully, the Paragon seemed intent on other matters, waving off his own comment to continue his initial point.

"Devils and Abysmals exist as categories forced into the monster ranking system so they wouldn't stand apart. They had to integrate somehow. But I tell you, I've encountered creatures of those ranks, not often, but the two times I have, I received terrifying confirmation that they simply don't belong within our conventional ranking system."

Raizel sighed and clasped Northern's shoulder, his gaze fixed on the rift, which pulsed like an infected wound.

"Sadly, I believe this may be the third such encounter. Brace yourself, kid. This won't be an easy fight."

Northern observed the Paragon's somber expression for a few moments, his eyes laser-focused. Then he exhaled and a crooked grin crawled across his face like a predator claiming territory.

"So what? Since I returned from the Dark Continent, I've craved nothing more than a genuine challenge. Devil Belials? Hell, I'm so exhilarated I could piss my pants right now!"

The Paragon stood awestruck.

His eyes remained fixed on Northern, widened and frozen like a startled deer.

With the suffocating pressure bearing down on them, such brazen words defied all expectations. The way this oppressive force devoured the night's cold winds testified to everything the Paragon had warned about.

He'd merely voiced what was painfully evident. The pressure had grown so intense that people on the ground struggled to remain standing, while many lower-ranked Drifters had already collapsed unconscious.

The only reason he, Northern, and these strange allied creatures hadn't been flattened by the overwhelming force was their exceptional strength.

This realization further cemented in the Paragon's mind just how remarkable Northern truly was. As this thought crystallized—

The rift rippled again, violent and hungry. Something monstrous was tearing its way through, like a birth no world should witness.

All of Lithia watched transfixed as black, ominous sparks erupted thunderously with each sinister pulse of the rift, like lightning born from nightmares.

Northern observed with unnerving calm, his face a mask of stone as the first creature emerged.

Its structure defied natural law. It resembled a human skeleton, but its hands were crossed over its chest and fused together—no, not fused—it was as though they had never existed as separate entities at all.

Colossal wings stretched farther than those of the Behemoths, their skeletal framework adorned with jagged, charred spikes where feathers should have been. The appendages hung like tattered funeral shrouds against the dark sky.

Three jagged horns twisted outward from its skull, writhing like serpents frozen in agony. Its eye sockets burned with round crimson light, the perfect visage of a true Devil. The sinister aura it radiated matched its unholy appearance.

Northern recognized something familiar about all Devils he had encountered, despite their rarity. That same ominous essence clung to Night Terror as well.

Speaking of Night Terror—all four of his eyes narrowed to slits, their burning red flames dimming momentarily like candles caught in a sudden draft.

The next instant, Night Terror became imperceptible, slicing through the air with unprecedented speed. Northern had never witnessed such velocity from him!

He blurred across the battlefield and materialized sharply before the Devilish Belial, swinging not just his claws but also wielding his imperceptible and invisible cleaves, deadly weapons that existed beyond normal sight.

But the creature merely tilted its demonic head sideways with casual disdain, allowing something unseen to pass harmlessly by. Its hand had already captured Night Terror's wrist, gripping with such monstrous force that fractures spiderwebbed through Night Terror's seemingly indestructible limb.

Northern's eyes widened in disbelief.

This Devil was about to obliterate Night Terror with barely a single attack?!