I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 1389  The Crew

Sael and Northern were not alone for long.

Annette came walking in from the eastern flank, her hair singed at the ends and soot smeared across her face. She looked like she had been standing inside a furnace, which, knowing how she fought, she probably had. Despite her appearance, she walked with the confident stride of someone who had thoroughly enjoyed herself.

Behind her, Vida moved with the silent economy of motion that was simply how she existed. Not a hair out of place. Not a speck of blood on her skin, though her knuckles were swollen and cracked from hitting things that shouldnʼt have been hit that many times.

”If I never fight another corpse,” Annette announced to no one in particular, ”itʼll be too soon. They donʼt even have the decency to stay down.”

”Theyʼre dead,” Vida said flatly. ”Decency isnʼt their strong suit.”

Annette barked a laugh. ”Was that a joke? Vida, did you just make a joke?”

Vidaʼs expression did not change. ”No.”

Northern watched the exchange without comment, a small smile threatening the corner of his mouth. Annette was one of those people whose presence made the aftermath of war feel slightly less like the aftermath of war. She burned hot, lived loud, and somehow the sheer force of her personality made other people forget, for a moment, that they were standing in a field of bodies.

Vida was the opposite. Calm, contained, brutally efficient. She stood near Annette because she chose to, and that was all anyone needed to know about their dynamic.

ʼThose two are going to be very important.ʼ

The sound of metal scraping against stone drew his attention to the left.

Lynus was sitting on a boulder about forty meters away, his metal wings folded tight against his back. He was using the edge of his sword to scratch something into the rock, though from this distance Northern couldnʼt tell what it was.

His face was its usual storm of subdued anger, though today it was quieter. Exhaustion had taken the edge off, leaving something that looked almost contemplative if you didnʼt know him.

ʼAlmost.ʼ

Because Lynusʼs version of contemplative still involved aggressively carving into solid rock with enough force to send chips flying.

He was positioned where he could see Jeci.

Jeci was being tended to by one of the Ryuganese medic about twenty meters from him. Northern had allowed it, since he was going to heal her properly when they get to the Tempest Spire, for now she needed first aid.

She sat on the ground with her back straight, letting him wrap her ribs without making a sound. Her dark armor was cracked and peeling off in sections. Dried blood ran from her hairline down the side of her face, cutting a line through the dirt and grime.

She had been beaten badly by Commander Zebelon. Ribs broken, armor shattered, thrown around like a training dummy. And every single time she had been put down, she had gotten back up.

Northern had watched it happen.

He hadnʼt intervened. Not because he didnʼt care, but because he understood what Jeci was doing. She wasnʼt fighting to win. She was fighting to prove something to herself, and interrupting that would have stolen something from her that couldnʼt be given back.

He hadnʼt intervened. Not because he didnʼt care, but because he understood what Jeci was doing. She wasnʼt fighting to win. She was fighting to prove something to herself, and interrupting that would have stolen something from her that couldnʼt be given back.

Lord had finished it. Zebelon was dead. But the victory belonged to the girl sitting in the dirt with broken ribs and a face that showed absolutely nothing.

One of the medics said something to her, probably telling her to stop moving, and Jeci responded with a flat stare that made the man flinch and step back.

Lynusʼs scratching paused. He glanced at her, saw she was fine, and went back to carving.

ʼThose two.ʼ

Northern shook his head slightly.

A shadow fell over him.

Raven descended from the sky on her mismatched wings, one black and one white, landing with the kind of effortless grace that made other peopleʼs landings look like controlled crashes by comparison. She folded her wings and they dissolved, leaving her standing in the morning light with her arms already crossed.

She looked at the battlefield.

”Hmm.”

That was it. That was Ravenʼs entire commentary on a night of warfare that would be written into history books.

”Good morning to you too,” Northern said.

Ravenʼs gaze shifted to him. Her expression was unreadable as always, though there was something in the set of her jaw that might have been satisfaction. Or hunger? With Raven, those two things often looked the same.

”The Commander is dead?”

”Lord handled it.”

Ravenʼs eyes narrowed slightly.

”Handled. Thatʼs a word for it.” She had seen what Lord did. Northern knew she had seen it because nothing happened on a battlefield that Raven didnʼt see.

She unfolded her arms.

”I need to train.”

”You just fought all night.”

”Which is why I need to train.” She said it with the absolute conviction of someone who had looked at a gap between herself and someone stronger and decided the appropriate response was to close it through sheer violence of effort. ”The gap between us is absurd.”

ʼShe means between her and me.ʼ

Northern didnʼt say anything to that. There was nothing to say. Ravenʼs drive to surpass the people ahead of her was the engine that powered everything she did, and any attempt to comfort or moderate that drive would be an insult to both of them.

Instead he just nodded.

”Thereʼs space on the eastern slope. Annette scorched it clean, so the footing should be decent. H”however, before that I would love to offer you a deal. But we will talk about it later.”

A coy smile played on Northernʼs face.

Raven paused, looked at him as though she wanted to say something else, then simply turned and walked away. The wings materialized again and she took to the air without another word.

”She is very intense.”

Northern turned to find Eisha walking toward him with Silver cradled against her chest. His mother was wearing a travelling cloak over simple clothes, her pale elven features catching the early light.

ʼWhat is she…ʼ

”We thought to come out and help with the aftermath.” She said before he got a chance to voice out his concerns.

Northern sighed while Eisha was looking at the retreating silhouette of Raven with an expression that carried gentle amusement.

”Sheʼs a Paragon who wants to be as strong as I am,” Northern said. ”Intense is the minimum requirement.”

Eisha reached him and stood close, adjusting Silver in her arms. The little girl was awake and seemed entirely unbothered by the blood-soaked field around them, her golden eyes tracking a bird that was circling overhead with the fascination that only babies could summon for completely irrelevant things.

”Howʼs father?” Northern asked.

”Better than yesterday, why?”

Northern sighed, ”His retribution might be coming faster than we expected. O who knows… it might be his unmaking.”

Eishaʼs eyes widened slightly as she glanced at Raven again.

Her voice trembled.

”Is that…?”

Northern nodded.