I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 47: The Ultimate Price

The lethal dance continued, Northern’s clone and the feral Night Terror worked in seamless tandem against their opponent.

Between sword slashes and augmenting claw swipes at crucial moments, the disadvantaged lizard began to grow sluggish. Gaping wounds liberally leaked dark ichor while massive chest heaves competed for oxygen to fuel flagging muscles.

Yet the ferocious temper still burned in its eyes.

The towering enemy knew that to surrender meant obliteration.

Its kind was made to fight until the last spark was snuffed out. No gentle slide into darkness— only the ecstasy of combat until its jaws closed on its dying breath at last.

The lizard rushed, heedless and without restraint, accepting its own gruesome end if it meant bringing even one of its adversaries along with it.

Enraged death throes shook the blood-slicked ground.

The lizard strained desperately as it grappled with Night Terror once more.

Scything talons and snapping teeth sought viscera beyond muscles and furs, even as the seemingly inexhaustible clone renewed its assaults from behind.

It was a different feel, it was vivid. If before, everything got seared into his muscles after the clone returned, now it was being etched into his soul as he paid attention through their link.

Northern’s heart gripped with excitement; he longed to fly into the battle himself; it was like there were new moves he’d love to try.

Night Terror’s monstrous approach had a crude beauty in the way the dark monster overpowered its enemy with sheer power.

But when faced with a foe that outdid it in terms of raw strength, Northern had thought that the terror would at least be wise enough to abandon that reckless battle style and go for something that spoke of skill, and would maneuver the opponent using its vulnerabilities as a large creature.

But Night Terror proved worthy of its battle style. Northern didn’t even know if the monster knew it had a battle style, after all, this was just his own conclusion as he watched them attack each other with a ferocious intent to shed blood.

The Night Terror still used its domineering power of claws and size.

It was very missable, but since Northern was paying attention from two perspectives— even though he missed some things through his own eyes. He realized it with the link between him and his clone.

Night Terror, even though it was stubbornly committed to its battle style, still handled the battle with an exemplary display of skill.

One that did not befit a monster, even Northern couldn’t help but be envious of the monster’s thoughtfulness. It was not a technique that just befell someone—this had to be a result of centuries of one’s core being forged through endless battles.

Instead of a brute, thoughtless attack at the hulking lizard, Night Terror made use of its sheer attack force on only one point to crack its tough stone skin while Northern’s clone made an all-rounder attack.

But even in the way the clone moved, it was predetermined by the terror’s steps, it was as if every movement was a path being carved out for the clone to tread freely on.

While the monster fought with a vicious instinct, it outlayed paths for Northern’s clone to cleanly weave his strikes—and those strikes came to be impactful in delaying the onerous lizard for a second or two hence providing Night Terror with enough time to deal some damage.

Watching this play out, Northern couldn’t help but feel so little...

’Is this bastard a battle genius?’

Even though it seemed like Night Terror was looking out for the clone in battle, it was simply using the clone to make things easier for itself. But it was very unnoticeable because of the flashy arcs the clone was able to draw thanks to Night Terror’s cunning movement.

Northern, at this point, understood and knew what it would take to defeat a creature of this caliber.

Together they soon overpowered their flagging opponent, but not before Northern’s link registered the creature’s herculean efforts.

He witnessed the primal defiance raging in its eyes... felt each resisting tendon within his own copy like a bitter song for remembered glory.

In some all-too-familiar way, Northern recognized a kindred refusal to yield, no matter the odds.

Perhaps they all were chained here on this endless killing field... slave soldiers bound by the ruthless dictates of uncaring powers playing at conquest. It did not matter what kind of monsters both sides were.

In the end, a shared fate awaited all of them.

Death’s patient skeletal hand finally came to collect its due tribute.

What was the chosen instrument of demise?

The Razorlf general’s strength finally failed as the Numerous grievous injuries took their toll.

Unable to ward off both Northern’s clone and the savage Night Terror, it sank to knees turned gelatinous by trauma and blood loss.

Still, it hissed venomous defiance, curving talons gouging furrows in the muddy earth, which was now saturated with its own spilled fluids.

Milky inner eyelids blinked rapidly with shock even as outer scales took on a dull appearance.

Its adversaries wasted no time, moving in swiftly for the kill. The clone’s tenebrous blade licked out, slipping beneath armored chin scales to pierce deeply into the throat.

At the same time, Night Terror pounced onto the lizard’s back, using pure mass to push it the rest of the way to the ground in a bone-jarring smash.

Hideous jaws closed around the vulnerable juncture between head and neck, fangs puncturing easily through gluey meat and gristle.

The prone creature thrashed weakly, limbs twitching in death throes.

But escape was impossible pinned beneath the four-eyed monster’s bulk as it adjusted its savage bite, worrying and tearing like a hellhound with a rodent.

Finally opting for a killing stroke, Night Terror braced huge clawed feet and wrenched its entire body in a sharp twisting motion. A ghastly wet crack rang out as the lizard’s spine shattered at the neck, followed instantly by the rending squelch of muscle and sinew separating.

With a contemptuous jerk of its massive head, the general flung aside the mutilated piece of its former opponent.

Its tongue slipping out to gather the viscous gore clinging to its muzzle, Night Terror straightened and unleashed an ear-splitting victorious cry skyward.

Nearby, the indistinct shadow clone waited silently, onyx blade now stained a deeper, hungry black, having fed well this day.

Northern gazed out through its eyes, his teeth unconsciously bared, he was so focused on the boorish sight that he had forgotten to steal the last kill.

The butchery continued all around despite the lizard general’s defeat. Surrounded by ever-rising mountains of corpses, Northern’s dark gaze crept slowly across the battlefield.

In the distance, the clone and Night Terror stood apart from each other in grave silence.

Northern briefly met the unflinching crimson stare of the relentless monster commander through the link with his clone.

It was still unsatisfied, hungry for more violence. The malevolent thirst personified in those feral orbs seemed endless.

It wasn’t just in the eyes of the terror, he noticed it in the eyes of every monster both from the kingdom of Red Mine and the unknown opposition.

Suddenly, it struck him as being dreadful and weird; it felt like no matter how many slaves were taken, how many were killed, or how many wars were won... this war would never end.

No side would ever truly emerge victorious.

Not without paying the ultimate price.

The Night Terror cast his clone one last gaze; in its burning eyes, there seemed to be a note of approval. It turned away, springing into the ongoing battle to lay waste to the remaining enemy.

Northern sighed from where he was... dismissing the clone. Although, what happened next, even he did not anticipate it.