I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 1211: To Affect Reality, Create Your Reality

Northern’s clones converged, merging back into one as the dark figures swarmed. His jaw clenched, mind racing through options, discarding them as fast as they formed.

’Make myself part of the domain... that’s practically impossible.’

The dark figures closed in from all sides. Thirty-two. Forty. More materializing from the ground with every passing second.

His father’s heat signature pulsed again—weaker than before.

Northern’s eyes narrowed.

’Aoi. The Endless Maw.’

[You want to manifest Maw’Thoraxis’s domain? Here? Now?]

’Can I?’

[Theoretically, yes. You copied the form and its Essence Manifestation. But it’ll cost a terrible amount of essence]

’I know...’

[You’ll have minutes at most. The domain is Apex Belial-rank authority clashing with a Celestial-rank Soul World. The strain will be—]

’I. Know.’

Another dark figure lunged. Northern sidestepped, its clawed hand passing through his shoulder—cold, draining, wrong.

His essence reserves dropped another percentage.

He was running out of time.

’If I manifest The Endless Maw inside this domain, what happens?’

[Localized reality conflict. Two competing authorities. His illusions will be forced to either become real or break down entirely within your bubble. The domain’s rules will fracture in the contested space. You’ll create a zone where you can interact with everything—but only within your manifestation radius]

’Radius?’

[At your current soul rank? Estimated 80 to 100 meters. Maybe less. You’re a Paragon trying to wield a Belial’s power]

Northern’s lips curved into something too sharp to be called a smile.

’Good enough. Do it.’

He planted his feet. The dark figures swarmed closer, sensing something shifting in their prey.

Northern closed his eyes.

’Transform. Maw’Thoraxis. Form One: The Devourer.’

For exactly five seconds, Northern’s body seized. Essence poured outward in a torrent, reshaping, restructuring, breaking him down to rebuild him as something else.

The dark figures struck.

Their attacks landed—claws raking across his transforming body, essence draining, pain exploding through his nervous system—

—and then the transformation was completed.

Northern’s eyes snapped open.

They were no longer human.

Crimson. Burning. Slitted like a predator’s, but wrong—endless, as if staring into them meant falling into an abyss with teeth.

His body had grown. Massively. Twelve feet tall, his frame now a twisted amalgamation of draconic and insectoid features. His skin was deep crimson plating, ridged with black chitin that pulsed with inner heat. His hands had become clawed monstrosities, each finger tipped with obsidian talons.

His mouth stretched too wide—far too wide—lined with rows of serrated teeth that glinted in the strange moonlight. His breath came out as steam, superheated and toxic.

Horns curved back from his skull, jagged and asymmetrical. His spine jutted with blade-like protrusions. His legs bent wrong, digitigrade, ending in claws that sank into the ground as if the earth itself couldn’t hold his weight.

The air around him shimmered with heat distortion.

The dark figures hesitated.

For the first time since entering this domain, they stopped.

Northern’s voice came out distorted—layered, as if multiple throats spoke in unison. Deep. Guttural. Alien.

”Now.”

He slammed both clawed hands into the ground.

And the world screamed.

***

From the point of impact, reality cracked.

Not metaphorically. The air itself fractured like glass, jagged lines of crimson light spiderwebbing outward in every direction. The dark plains beneath Northern’s feet began to warp, stone softening, color bleeding away, replaced by something older, hungrier.

The pseudo Soul World of the Patriarch resisted.

Azure light flared from the clouds above, the strange moons pulsing brighter as the domain fought back, trying to suppress the intrusion, trying to eject the foreign authority.

But Northern poured everything into it.

Essence flooded outward in a wave. His reserves plummeted—70%, 60%, 50%—draining faster than blood from a severed artery.

And The Endless Maw manifested.

It started small. A sphere of warped reality centered on Northern, maybe twenty meters in radius. But it spread. Fifty meters. Seventy. Ninety.

The ground within the bubble changed.

The dark plains cracked and split, revealing obsidian cliffs that rose from beneath. Gravity doubled within the sphere, pressing down like an invisible hand. The temperature spiked—thirty degrees, forty, fifty—air shimmering with heat haze.

The sky within the bubble darkened further, but it was a different darkness now, hungrier and alive.

And the rules changed.

The dark figures caught within The Endless Maw’s radius suddenly solidified.

One of them—the closest—had been mid-lunge when the domain manifested. Its form flickered, wavered, then became tangible. The nothing it was became something within the Endless Maw.

Northern’s clawed hand shot out and grabbed it by the throat.

Northern’s jaws split wider than any human mouth should, and he bit.

The creature’s head came off in a spray of black ichor and It collapsed, body convulsing, then dissolving into ash.

[Partial domain manifestation successful. Radius: 95 meters. Essence reserves: 47%. Estimated duration: 4 minutes, 12 seconds]

Northern didn’t respond. He was already moving.

The other dark figures within his domain bubble scrambled backward—but they were slow now. Weighed down by the doubled gravity. Slowed by the oppressive heat. And most importantly:

’Vulnerable.’

Northern became a blur.

His clawed hand swept through one figure, tearing it in half. Another tried to counter with that space-erasing ability—but within The Endless Maw’s authority, Northern’s will overrode it. The space didn’t erase. The attack failed.

He crushed its skull underfoot.

A third launched those darkness projectiles. Northern didn’t dodge. The projectiles struck his armored hide and shattered, unable to drain essence from something that was the domain.

’Aoi, summon echoes. Use Puppeteer’s Malice to pull a massive aggro and make them all converge towards this domain. Make it so massive that even a Paragon can’t ignore it.’

[Understood]

[Using Echo Summoning...]

[One thousand echoes are flaring to reality around you]

[Using Puppeteer’s Malice]

Different slag wyrms flared to life, rushing forward, there were frost wyrms, and storm wyrms, monsters with body like charcoal and looked like castrated dogs, easily five feet tall also appeared shooting forward, they were some that looked like insect monsters he saw on the first layer.

And there were even more, some were abominations with charred skin and grotesque skeleton wing that helped them fly, some were fiendish deteriorating skinned quadruped creatures, all of them lumbering forward in the Endless Maw and burying their merciless jaw on the creatures.

More of these strange creatures lumbered from all directions. All converging towards Northern.

Because of the intense aggro, Northern was sure his other self could have a safe and easy flight to save his father.

But his time was also limited.

He had to destroy all this monster and also... most especially in fact, the Paragon in four minutes.

And there were no signs of the damn Paragon yet.