I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 719: The Beginning of Milhwa Festival

For the first time since Northern had been admitted to the academy, he saw the general populace of both the combative and non-combative schools gathered together.

They moved in distinct groups, clearly ostracizing the few non-combative students who had dared to enter the festival contest. All marched toward the multipurpose hall set up just outside the school compound. Its location near the gate ensured everyone had to walk an equal distance to reach it.

As they neared their destination, a sense of familiarity stirred in Northern. The paths they took felt oddly recognizable, and the glass building ahead seemed like a forgotten echo of the past. When they stepped inside the grand hall, bathed in a warm golden glow that danced across polished walls and floors, the realization struck him like a sudden chill.

This was the same hall where they had all been gathered before being deceived and teleported into the dark continent.

Northern’s expression darkened, but he quickly masked it, his face becoming an unreadable canvas. A gloomy tension pressed against him like a cold hand on his shoulder. He turned to his left.

There stood a boy, utterly consumed by rage, his anger so palpable that even the strongest individuals around felt the oppressive weight of his bloodlust.

Northern’s gaze flicked to a yellow-haired boy nearby, who glanced in their direction with a wary frown. Further ahead, two figures—one a girl, the other a boy—watched them intently. Their skin, polished to a bronze-like sheen, seemed to glow faintly beneath the hall’s golden lights.

...Just like Vida’s.

’Huh... those guys... look familiar.’

The memory surfaced quickly; Northern remembered clearly. Back at Fughal, at the warp port, two of them had looked at him in a strange, assessing manner.

Back then, he hadn’t given them much attention, though he could tell they were indeed strong. It was the same now—perhaps slightly different. Because of how strong he had become overnight, he could tell in an instant.

Not just with them alone—every single person in the academy, every single person that fell under the reach of his spatial awareness. He could tell that none of them, none at all, was strong enough to leave a lasting battle impression on him.

Perhaps among the instructors, he could pick about two that were strong. Even though they suppressed their auras to the minimum, Northern could still tell. Those two were the strongest in the academy, stronger than even Annette.

’How odd...’

Northern shifted his attention as he saw the group of instructors walk onto the podium. He finally turned to the boy next to him and gave him a knock on the middle of his head.

The boy immediately snarled, turning all his anger toward Northern. In that moment, as he dared, he suddenly felt the entire scenery around him transform. A colossal wall of engulfing darkness closed in on him with terrifying speed, and the guy that had just knocked him appeared like a terror, standing with four crimson eyes and viciously carved teeth.

He staggered back, beads of sweat already dripping down his face.

”Huh? Are you okay, Darryl?”

His friend, who had been casually standing next to him, asked with concern.

”Ah, I’m fine... got dizzy for a moment.”

He responded, wiping his sweat off with his sleeves before focusing on the front. He couldn’t even steal glances at the person standing next to him, afraid of seeing the same thing again.

After a few seconds, as the instructors were awaiting the Principal’s arrival to give the opening speech, he said to his friend:

”Hey, Eren, let’s find somewhere else to stand, okay?”

”Uh? Why? But this place is just fine. I can see the podium clearly from here.”

”Bro, let’s go.”

Darryl walked away, grabbing his friend.

Northern glanced in their direction as they walked away.

’Fool... releasing all that bloodlust. Before whom do you think you stand?’

Northern understood that the boy was probably as angry as he was, but the fact that he couldn’t keep himself under control proved how little he had learned in the dark continent.

’Probably one of the men that were under Zephyr.’

He had killed many whom Afkon commanded directly. Most of the survivors were people that had marched with Zephyr to conquer the Lotheliwan stronghold. The boy was most likely one of them.

Northern’s eyes focused back on the podium as the Principal, flanked by two instructors—one on his right and, surprisingly, Annette on his left—walked forward.

’What is she doing there?’

They reached the center of the podium, the two flanks retreating to the line of instructors standing behind while the Principal alone walked toward the lectern-like structure through which several mics protruded.

The man was as ordinary as one could define ordinary. His grey hair was slicked back, several wrinkles spread over his face showing rather than telling his aging state. His eyes were calm and insightful, slowly rolling over the crowds of heads with palpable tenderness.

Then he stopped and dipped his hand into the pockets of his gallant white suit, shivered a little, and leaned forward to speak into the mic.

”Oof... it’s cold.”

A cloud of cold air drifted from his mouth as he spoke.

”I can see you all in your sweaters, wearing jackets over all of that... must be quite suffocating. I have my thick white tuxedo weaved by the continent’s best to shield me from the cold. Wish it could go around really, but I will have to give this speech naked. Haha...”

Chuckles resonated in the hall after the Principal’s awkward speech.

Northern, however, did not find anything funny.

’Who starts a speech like that?’

The Principal continued, oblivious to anyone’s thoughts on his opening speech.

”The cold... usually is not fair on all of us in this season, but it is a companion nevertheless. A reminder that even in discomfort, we find strength in unity. It pushes us to seek warmth—not just in thick jackets or white tuxedos, but in the bonds we forge with one another.”

The Principal’s voice carried a calm, measured cadence that filled the hall, his words laced with an air of wisdom.

”The Milhwa Festival is more than a celebration. It is a tradition rooted in our history, a reminder of the day this academy was founded to serve as a beacon of hope. A sanctuary where all who sought strength—whether of body, mind, or spirit—could cultivate their potential.”

He paused, letting his words settle in the quiet hall before continuing.

”This festival is also a chance to honor those who came before us, who laid the foundation for what we stand on today. Their sacrifices, their courage, their triumphs—they live on in the legacy we uphold. And it is up to each of you, as students and future leaders, to continue this legacy.”

His gaze swept across the crowd, lingering on certain individuals with a weight that seemed to pierce through their thoughts.

”You all stand at the threshold of greatness, but let me remind you—true greatness is not found in strength alone. It lies in purpose. In the resolve to protect, to grow, and to build a better tomorrow.”

The Principal leaned back slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

”Today, the Milhwa Festival celebrates more than just our founding. It celebrates you. Every contest, every performance, every effort put into making this day special reflects your determination and spirit. Win or lose, the experience will shape you. So, I urge you, take part, cheer for your peers, and cherish these moments. They will define not only your time here but the paths you choose to walk in the future.”

Another pause, this time accompanied by a shiver as the cold seemed to bite a little deeper. He chuckled lightly, adjusting his stance.

”Now, before I freeze up here, let me officially declare the start of the Milhwa Festival. Let it be a day of joy, challenge, and unity!”

With that, he stepped back from the lectern, his hand motioning toward the instructors behind him. A round of applause erupted in the hall, a few cheers punctuating the otherwise controlled claps.

Northern remained silent, his eyes blinking. Then he suddenly began to clap heavily. His applause resounded the most.

’What the hell? That was so cool!!’