I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 686: The Molten Vein [Part 2]

”This bastard!!” Northern spat, his grin returning despite the pain lacing his body.

His eyes flared again, locking onto the beast’s molten core, now brighter than ever.

”You’re not the only one who can turn up the heat.”

He steadied his breath, the aura around him thickening like a living shield. The faint glow of his eyes intensified, and with a sudden burst of motion, Northern launched himself forward.

The beast’s fiery geysers erupted in his path, but Northern didn’t blink away this time.

Instead, he surged through them as a torrent of Black Flames exploded from his body, clashing against the brunt of the heat.

Void Tendrils lashed out like whips as he ran, striking at the fiery bursts to dissipate them before they could reach him.

Closing the distance, the Illusion Sword shimmered in his hand, its blade slowly turning invisible to the naked eye.

Northern swung it in a wide arc, creating a long and strong strike that lashed out at the creature’s molten veins.

The beast roared in frustration, its molten veins flaring again. This time, the explosions merged, creating a massive pillar of flame that shot upward, threatening to engulf Northern entirely.

”Not this time,” Northern growled.

He moved faster than ever, his Void wings propelling him upward just as the pillar erupted. Then the Black Flames expanded like a cloak suddenly thrown.

They connected with the pillar and encroached it in streams of Black Flames that seemed to—like a terrible plague—devour it.

Northern slowly landed, keeping the Illusion Sword tightly clenched in his hands. His eyes fixed on his target as he descended.

The teaching and style of Chaos Art was slowly evolving with every battle that he fought and through the Formlessness of the Chaos he wrought in every battle, and more importantly, the uncontrolled destruction that lashed out through it.

Northern’s style was, through it, grasping the essence of battle and slowly reshaping his heritage.

Northern’s descent was a storm in itself, the winds howling in protest as his Void wings cut through them like scythes.

The invisible blade of the Illusion Sword gleamed faintly under the oppressive glow of the molten battlefield, like a thin light of radiance leaving the air.

Below, the beast reared back, its molten form pulsing with unstable fury, its core like a blazing sun threatening to erupt.

The ground beneath Northern cracked and splintered as his momentum landed him, his entire being a weapon of singular purpose.

The air rippled as he swung the blade downward, a crescent arc of devastation surging forward—an unseen force that carved through the atmosphere with a deafening roar.

The strike connected.

A section of the beast’s molten shell exploded outward, shards of its hardened magma skin raining down like fiery shrapnel.

Black Flames snaked into the open wound, hungrily consuming the exposed molten veins.

The beast howled—a sound so guttural and raw that it seemed to shake the world itself. The roar of agony morphed into a new wave of attacks.

The creature reared its massive body, its eyes dimming briefly before it unleashed a cascade of fiery tendrils, each one seeking Northern with deadly intent.

The ground liquefied into pools of magma wherever the tendrils struck, forming a treacherous, molten landscape.

Northern was already moving, his Void wings slicing through the air as he twisted and turned, evading the deadly appendages with hair’s breadth precision.

One tendril lashed too close, grazing his side, and the searing pain ignited a burst of adrenaline.

He gritted his teeth and retaliated, Void Tendrils lashing from his body to intercept the fiery ones, a chaotic dance of opposing forces colliding in the air.

The battlefield was a nightmare—a storm of Black and molten flames, the air choking with ash and heat.

Northern thrived in the chaos, Chaos Eyes scanning for the slightest openings.

Every movement of the beast, every flicker of its molten core, spoke to him in a language of violence he understood instinctively.

There—its left flank.

The molten veins pulsed unevenly, their glow faltering under the onslaught of his flames.

He surged forward, faster than thought, a blur of Void and Chaos.

The Illusion Sword arced again, carving through the air silently.

This time, the blade struck deep, severing a molten limb in one fluid motion.

The beast’s roar fractured the heavens as it stumbled, its massive frame crashing into the earth, sending molten shockwaves rippling outward.

But the battle was far from over.

The beast’s core flared brighter, its molten body convulsing as it began to transform.

Its shattered limb regenerated in an instant, but it wasn’t the same—no longer molten, but a grotesque crystalline structure radiating heat and light.

The transformation spread like wildfire, its entire body crystallizing, becoming sharper, harder, more lethal.

Northern’s Chaos Eyes narrowed. ’What the hell?’

The crystalline behemoth charged, faster than before, its new form refracting light into blinding bursts that disoriented Northern’s vision.

It swiped with a claw that shattered the ground where he’d been moments ago.

Northern barely dodged, his Void wings straining to maneuver against the onslaught.

The beast wasn’t just faster—it was smarter. Its attacks were calculated now, each strike herding him into tighter quarters, its crystalline claws slicing through his Black Flames as though they were paper.

A sharp pain lanced through Northern’s leg as a shard of crystal got in between them mid-dodge, causing his movement to falter. If not for Void Force, the crystal would have probably embedded deeply.

He stumbled, falling into a roll to avoid a follow-up strike, the molten ground threatening to sear his armor. His breath came in ragged gasps, struggling to catch up with his movement.

Northern slowly stood up, a grin forming on his face.

”And this bastard is supposed to be a Catastrophic Behemoth,” he muttered.

Once again, he could not help himself paling at the comparison of both monsters. Could it have been that the other rift was weaker than this one because it was—after all—somehow manipulated?

Or did Rughsbourgh do something to get such insanely strong monsters?

It was insane and stressful to think about. And Northern did not even have a second to do that, for the Molten Vein, now crystallized, was upon him again.

To make things worse, his stamina had hit rock bottom. Right now, he tried moving his legs and felt like they were being pulled back by an entire mountain.