I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 808: Do You Yield?

Northern dipped his pinky finger into his ear. Something was there. And it was really bothering him.

’Did some insect fly into my ear?’

Tra-el had insects, just like Earth. They ranged from harmless to deadly. He’d encountered plenty—some had disturbed him before.

But never like this. Never mid-battle.

Maybe calling this a battle was an overstatement.

And he wasn’t even sure if it was a fly. But it was irritating, a persistent tickle he couldn’t ignore.

He tilted his head, trying to shake it loose. Nothing. Whatever it was, it clung stubbornly.

He sighed and gave up.

At that moment, Tever was already upon him.

’...This bastard... when did he—’

Tever’s sword carved through the air from the opposite direction, arcs weaving a trap around Northern.

But as the wind sang with steel, Northern’s image flickered—he was already behind him.

Tever grinned.

The ground hadn’t changed. Yet, it looked different, darkened as if corroded by something unseen. Northern knew better than to step on it.

This was Tever’s domain. Anyone would recognize the disadvantage of stepping into it.

Not that Northern had any disadvantages to worry about.

If anything, the real nuisance was still the damn thing in his ear.

As he landed on stable ground, the darkness lunged. Spikes burst from its surface, flying toward him in a vicious storm. At the same time, a portion of the darkness detached, sweeping behind him—encircling him.

Spikes were converging from all sides.

Tever had planned this meticulously.

To handle Northern, the first step was to restrict his speed. Even if Northern dodged the black spikes, he’d be forced to stay conscious of them.

A reminder that one wrong move could skewer him.

Northern sighed, watching the way the darkness shifted. Tever had been waiting for him to move all along.

’At least he gave me some credit for not stepping into his domain... isn’t that rather insightful of him?’

A slow smirk tugged at Northern’s lips. The spikes flew toward him, jagged and stubborn, yet through his eyes, they stretched across time like creeping tendrils, every movement slowed to a crawl.

He studied them—glossy, vicious things reaching for him with twisted horror.

How should he respond?

Should he let Tever believe his movements were restricted, play along and bait him into thinking his trap had worked?

Should he take to the sky, proving to both Tever and the ground beneath that he was an untouchable force?

Or should he unleash something terrifying—something that would leave their mouths agape and their spirits shattered?

Which would break their resolve the fastest?

A decision formed.

A crooked smile spread across Northern’s lips.

He let the spikes close in, closer—until they nearly kissed his skin.

Then, like a javelin hurled from the depths of hell, he shot straight up.

Air ripped in his wake. He pierced through the sky, his momentum sudden and absolute, before halting in perfect control—hovering just above the arena.

Silence fell.

Tever craned his neck, his expression pale, his features twisted in sheer disbelief.

”He... can fly too?”

A lone, bewildered voice cut through the hush, like a spark igniting dry tinder.

Murmurs swelled, rolling across the coliseum in waves.

”The student with unmatched speed... an ice manipulator... and now flight?”

”Is this even possible?”

”How does that make any sense?”

”What is he?”

The spectators’ voices collided in an ocean of confusion and awe, their murmurs sinking into a storm of disbelief.

Northern grinned. A ghastly light flickered in his eyes, sinister and otherworldly, as he stretched his hands downward—like a force of eternal evil descending upon the world.

”Ignis Dominus.”

His voice fell like a reality rift tearing through peaceful desolation.

And then—chaos.

A tremendous cacophony erupted, as if the sky itself was belching in agony.

The clouds churned, thickening into an abyssal shroud, swallowing the daystar. Darkness crept in, consuming the light—not from the horizon, but from nowhere, as if night itself had been summoned into existence.

Silence gripped the coliseum.

Terrified, awestruck, unable to breathe under the weight of what was happening.

Yet beneath their fear, one question burned in their minds.

”What in the sleeping stars has he done to the day?”

Murmurs swelled, rising in genuine concern. Their voices barely touched the air before the darkness above flickered—blinking with eerie, cantaloupe light.

It pulsed. Swelled.

Like a sky riddled with silent explosions, rippling through the storm.

Northern paused, his gaze locking onto his opponent.

Tever stood motionless. Frozen in place.

Dead to the world.

Northern’s grin widened. His voice echoed like judgment incarnate.

”Say your prayers... fool.”

Then—

Comets.

Literal comets.

Tore through the heavens, pouring from the sky.

It was as if destruction itself had incarnated within the sudden night, orchestrating devastation with chilling precision.

Flames poured down, searing through the darkness, turning the eclipsed day into a tempest of fire. The glow of the inferno stretched across the sky, and in its furious radiance, every pair of eyes reflected the vicious dance of catastrophe.

Especially Tever’s.

He was the focal point of it all.

And in his mind, only two things echoed:

Fear. Death.

Emotions he had long suppressed, buried beneath layers of hardened will, suddenly ruptured—as if they had grown weary of the hypocritical shell encasing them. They clawed their way out, unraveling his composure, stripping him bare.

The terror he once commanded—his own domain of creeping darkness—wilted under the sheer magnitude of the flames. His miniature nightmare, his so-called power, burned and evaporated before the hellish heat of Northern’s wrath.

Then, all at once—

The flames halted.

The comets stilled in the sky.

The abrupt silence was deafening.

The instructors inhaled sharply, their breath finally sinking back into their lungs.

For a moment, they had truly believed—no, feared—that Northern was about to reduce a student to nothing but embers.

Some of them had already braced themselves to intervene.

Yet, now that the storm had paused, an unspoken realization settled among them.

If Northern had unleashed the full force of that firestorm...

How were they supposed to stop it?

Many of them were powerful, no doubt.

But none could say, with absolute certainty, that they could halt such devastation without humiliating themselves in the process.

If the flames had rained down, their only real course of action would have been to yank Tever from the arena.

And that?

That would have been a disgraceful, chaotic mess.

Yet, by some unknown decree, the comets—destruction itself—had ceased.

Northern levitated downwards and stood before Tever. He tilted his head slightly and asked:

”So what’s it gonna be... do you yield?”