I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 768: Rewards

The journey to the blockade continued in silence. Much later, after they had boarded the beast of burden, Northern became aware of the travelers’ condition.

A horde of monsters had attacked the nearest town to the southwest, forcing many to flee for their lives. However, countless others had fallen victim to the ravenous maws of the creatures lurking in the thick forest. Those who had survived owed their lives to hundreds of lost lives—and three Drifters.

Among the group, only the old man and the pregnant woman were ordinary humans. The other three bore bleak, sullen expressions, their eyes heavy with the weight of loss, pressing a suffocating tension onto the atmosphere.

At first, Northern didn’t care. He truly didn’t. But as the journey dragged on and he observed how disconnected they were—each person withdrawn despite sharing the same beast of burden—he found himself pondering the weight of hundreds of lives.

He had never allowed himself to feel responsible for the lives of others. When they died, their deaths did not burden him.

Except for one.

One death had sent him spiraling into the depths of the infective madness of the red mine.

It had struck him deeply—though he had lunged forward, though he had moved on—this one wound remained. A scar he counted. The first. The only meaningful one.

The rest of the events in the Dark Continent? He had remained distant, unconcerned with anyone or anything beyond survival.

The people he had killed in Sloria? Regretful, but they would have done the same to him.

Death had never weighed on him.

Until Gareon.

Just as that monster had once shielded him, Gareon had too. That was a weight he carried.

But could it compare to the burden of hundreds of lives? He wasn’t sure.

Northern sighed and closed his eyes. Something else required his attention.

His consciousness dove inward, and when his eyes opened again, he found himself in another place.

A familiar room.

The scent of the city and snow mixed with the rich fragrance of his luxurious enclave. He sat still for a few moments, replaying the day’s contest in his mind.

The most useful person in the contest had been Aster. Northern regretted not witnessing it firsthand, but for the first time, the chatterbox had proven his worth beyond his endless boasting.

On the fly, Aster had taken scraps of metal and meticulously crafted what he called a thruster—a mechanical device that embedded a flat slab of metal into reinforced alloy walls. The key difference was that its thrust grew stronger with the amount of essence it consumed.

Essence, when channeled by Masters, could reinforce objects—starting with their own bodies and extending to mundane materials. Of course, the material’s durability determined how much reinforcement it could withstand.

A thin piece of metal, for example, could endure a slight infusion of essence, becoming strong enough to cleave through a tree—though not in a single, clean slice. Too much reinforcement, however, and it would disintegrate.

A thicker, sturdier metal rod could endure stronger reinforcement.

Reinforcement itself varied depending on a Drifter’s assimilation and circulation style.

One method might grant even a blunt weapon a razor-sharp edge. Another might turn the same object into an unyielding bludgeon. Everything depended on the principles of their essence manipulation.

Of course, to Northern, all of this was meaningless.

He used essence circulation, but chaotically—letting it run through every fiber of his being without concern for methodology. He could probably reinforce objects if he tried, but the principles behind it? He had never bothered to learn. He had never needed to.

Until this afternoon.

Aster had needed everyone’s essence to reinforce the metal. The others had played their part, contributing as much as they could.

They were close to victory—so close that Northern’s absence from the process had almost been detrimental. A rare and unacceptable scenario for someone who had put so much effort into bringing things to fruition through sheer will—a lone wolf to the core.

But then their essence ran out.

Aster, already occupied controlling the machinery, couldn’t spare more. Simultaneously operating and reinforcing the mechanism was impossible for him.

Not that he had much essence to begin with. Aster’s talent allowed him to consume Northern’s reserves, but his own supply was pitifully limited.

So, for the first time, Northern humbled himself and learned how to reinforce metal.

A slightly interesting bit of knowledge.

Perhaps useful in the future.

If he ever encountered an enemy like the Rotten Retainer again and Colossal Force alone wasn’t enough...

What would happen if he reinforced a body already empowered by Colossal Force?

A shame he was only learning this after that brutal fight.

Still, there were no losses. Tomorrow was another day. The duel would begin soon.

After the contest, he had collected the duel placement slip.

And the rewards for finishing first place had arrived.

The team had received three items each, along with a massive sum—10,000 Orens.

The items included one [Lordly] grade armor, a weapon, and a charm.

The armor was a sleek, black ensemble, adorned with several straps and belts. It bore three orders:

[Stealth]—rendering his steps soundless.

[Spatial Silence]—erasing movement disturbances in the air.

[Lightness]—increasing his speed.

The weapon, Longshore, was a double-edged longsword. It carried a single order, yet it was a powerful one:

[At desperate times, the cleave of Longshore will ignore distance.]

However, its length posed a challenge.

Northern held the sword, feeling an odd imbalance in its weight. It was a difficult weapon to wield, but undeniably a beautiful one. Under the moonlight, it gleamed with a serene, silvery sheen—like a gentle yet merciless executioner.

The charm was designed to enhance weapons, increasing their sharpness and durability. While it could be used with other items, it worked exceptionally well with blades.

After inspecting his prizes—and indulging in a brief moment of fantasizing over the bag of Orens in his hand—Northern left his clone. He would come back to finish the last part of the contest himself.

Then, he returned to the beast of burden.

The final battle awaited.

Before drifting into sleep, he summoned the Moonlit Scale.