I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 1299: Owl-Doctor Hervath Cline

Northern returned to the airship but didn’t seek out Lord. That one had gotten enough of his attention already—it was time to focus on someone else now that Lord had seen significant growth.

’I haven’t even set my eyes on him all this while.’

He reached the lower level of the ship—a deck below the compartment where he, his mother, and the students had their rooms.

This level looked more dungeon-like, all exposed piping and dim lighting, but Abyss Tyrant wasn’t confined to any particular environment. He was free to walk wherever pleased him. And right now, this was just where he was.

Northern descended the stairs and walked through a hallway lined with large metal doors. The air here was warmer, thicker with the smell of oil and heated metal. Beyond the far end of the corridor, he could make out a silhouette—tall, motionless, holding a staff with a crescent moon at its helm.

He eventually reached Abyss Tyrant, who stood at a railing overlooking the convoluted wheels of machinery that made up the engine of the Air Vessel. The gears and pistons churned in an endless rhythm, almost hypnotic, each component nearly as enormous as the vessel itself.

There was a moment of silence between them. Then a voice came.

It wasn’t Northern’s. Nor was it Abyss Tyrant’s.

”Yello. Human.”

Standing on the other side of the railing was a macabre fusion between what Northern would call an owl and a human. Massive round eyes dominated a face that still held traces of humanoid structure—a sharp beak where a mouth should be, feathers that grew in patterns suggesting they had once been hair and beard. Taloned hands gripped the railing with unsettling dexterity.

Northern was not surprised by the creature’s presence. Abyss Tyrant bringing back something from the depths was well within the realm of expectation. But the fact that it could talk—and its appearance, that uncanny blend of familiar and wrong—shocked the hell out of him.

Which was pretty amazing, considering that fewer and fewer things were managing to shock him as time went on.

A small smile stayed at the corner of his lips.

”Interesting... now what do we have here?”

Abyss Tyrant shifted its gaze to the monstrous doctor, its lightless eyes seeming to warn the creature darkly while simultaneously trying to evade Northern’s oversight.

Northern glanced back and spared it a questioning raise of his brows. But the creature only looked away in silence.

’Something passed between them that I wasn’t supposed to see.’

The Owl creature observed this exchange and then sighed, as if arriving at some realization.

”Ah. I see. You’re the Lord Commander’s Lord Commander...”

Northern thought for barely a second and shook his head slightly.

”Yes. And you are?”

”Ah, forgive this old fool.” The Owl shifted its hand, placing it on his chest and bowing gently to Northern. The gesture was courtly, practiced—the kind of bow that had been performed a thousand times in a different life. ”I am barely a relic that seeks meaning in a different world. A lot has changed... I don’t want to burden you, but ehm, please—if you could grant me a habitat and protection with you.”

Northern observed him. The massive eyes blinked with an intelligence that was entirely too sharp for something that looked like it had crawled out of a nightmare.

’He’s so eloquent.’

To the point that it wouldn’t be out of place to consider that this Owl-man had once been human before he became whatever he was now.

Northern averted his gaze from the Owl, staring into the world of engines below. The rhythmic churning filled the silence between them.

”A home, huh.” His voice went quiet for a moment, as if he was getting captured by the art of metals rather than actually thinking about the Owl creature’s request. Still out of focus, his voice came again. ”That will depend on whether you pose a threat to us here.”

The Owl responded with unmistakable eagerness.

”How do I prove myself, Grand Lord Commander? How do I show you I am not a threat? Everything I knew, everything that formulated purpose for me... is gone. I have been abandoned. Now, I just want to enjoy this new world. I truly am no threat to you, Grand Master.”

Northern looked at the Owl Creature as he spoke. It was fascinating—the large eyes’ movements, the subtle ruffling of his feathers when emotion touched his words, the way his speech fell from that cruel-looking beak with such precision. Everything was so human even though the creature was, in all obvious manners, inhuman.

”I will be the judge of your integrity. As for what you could do—you can start by telling me what you are.” His gaze sharpened.

The Owl creature straightened, its feathers rustling with what might have been nervousness—or anticipation.

”I am what remains of Doctor Hervath Cline. Once, I served the Hollow Court as their Chief Anatomist. I studied the boundaries between flesh and essence, between what lives and what merely exists.” The Owl’s massive eyes blinked slowly, a gesture that seemed almost nostalgic. ”When the Court fell, I was... mid-experiment. The maddened essence that consumed my masters consumed me as well, but differently. I became my own subject, you see. A living answer to the question I had spent decades asking.”

Northern listened without interrupting. His expression remained neutral, but his mind was already cataloging the information.

’The Hollow Court. That’s not a name I’ve heard before.’

”And what question was that?” Northern asked.

”Whether consciousness could survive fundamental transformation of its vessel.” The Owl spread his arms slightly, displaying himself—the feathers, the talons, the impossible architecture of what he had become. ”As you can see, the answer is yes. Though whether I am still Doctor Hervath Cline or merely a creature wearing his memories... that question I cannot answer.”

Abyss Tyrant shifted beside Northern, its staff scraping faintly against the metal floor. The sound drew Northern’s attention.

Northern glanced at him, then returned his gaze to Hervath.

”And how did you two come across each other?”

”In the tunnels... certain research conditions led me there... you see.”

Northern remembered—Sael had explained the tunnels to him and had, in fact, mentioned a creature lurking in those depths. The pieces were connecting now.

”And the nature of this research?”

The creature smirked. It was not the kind of smirk Northern was used to seeing, despite having seen many. There was something almost theatrical about it, the way the beak curved and the feathers around his eyes shifted.

”Well, immortality for one. But please understand that sharing the nature of my research in that tunnel also equals ending my career.”

Northern was silent for a moment. He wanted to stress-test what Hervath had just said. He wanted to be shrewd, to discover what lay beneath the surface, because now that the creature was intentional about hiding it, he was even more curious.

”If I insist on it as your condition for a habitat?”

”Then to the tunnels, I shall return.” Hervath’s voice was flat. Final.

”You claim that everything that formulates purpose for you is gone, and yet you clench onto its secret.”

”My life, Grand Lord Commander. I merely clench onto my life.”

Northern sighed and exchanged his gaze between the two—monstrous but not so monstrous monstrosities. One silent and loyal, the other eloquent and desperate.

’So Abyss Tyrant brought back a stray.’

The observation wasn’t angry. If anything, Northern found himself mildly amused. There was something almost endearing about it—about finding something lost in the dark and deciding to keep it.

Northern turned to the Owl-Doctor and said:

”A Chief Anatomist of a fallen court. Someone who studied the boundaries of flesh and essence.” He let the words hang in the engine-warmed air. ”What exactly can you do, Doctor? What makes you worth the protection you’re asking for? And what court? What world are you from?”

The Owl’s feathers settled. Something shifted in his massive eyes—a glint of the professional he had once been, perhaps. Pride that hadn’t died even when everything else had.

”I can heal, Grand Lord Commander. Not in the crude way of common physicians. I understand the architecture of living things. I can rebuild what is broken, strengthen what is weak, alter what needs altering.” He tilted his head at an angle that should have been impossible, vertebrae clicking softly. ”I have also retained my knowledge of the Hollow Court’s research. Their methods. Their discoveries. Most of which died with them—except in my memory.”

’A doctor who can rebuild bodies. Knowledge of a dead court’s secrets.’

Northern considered this. The machinery churned below them, indifferent to the negotiation happening above.

”As for the world I am from...” Hervath’s voice turned contemplative. ”I have no idea how long has passed. I believe I am from this same world. In my era, we worshipped Lord Nexus, the God of Trickery... I know it sounds contradictory, but he was our patron god and really meant a lot to us, until our world suffered the great cataclysm and entered an age of ruin.”

Northern had already frozen.

His eyes widened from the moment he heard that name. The churning engines faded to nothing. The warm air turned cold against his skin.

Hervath continued, oblivious. ”Ah, I figured that nobody apparently understands what gods mean anymore. Everyone looks at me like I’m saying something strange every time I have asked about gods.”

”You...” Northern’s voice came out trembling. He couldn’t control it. Didn’t try to. ”You know Nexus?”

Hervath paused. He studied Northern with those enormous eyes, taking in the tremor in his voice, the way his hands had gone still at his sides. Shadows fell over the owl’s face as understanding dawned.

”Grand Lord Commander...” His voice dropped low. ”You know what gods are?”

He paused, then chuckled—a strange, clicking sound from his beak.

”What a fortunate turn of events.”