I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 1406: Satisfying Results

[Item]

Name: [Reaver]

Type: [Polearm—Spear]

Rank: [Ancient]

Order: [III]

Order Abilities:

[Spine Reaper: The thrust carries a fragment of void essence that bypasses shields and barriers. If the strike lands on flesh, the wound refuses to close for 200 seconds — natural and magical healing reduced by 70%]

[Warden’s Reach: The spear can extend as the user wills it to.]

[Set Bonus: When all the Dreadreaver set is equipped together, the spear is coated in void flames, adding 80% void damage for the duration. Intimidation Aura extends to 50m]

[Bloodthirst: Each successful hit siphons a fragment of the target’s vitality and restores 5% of the wielder’s essence stamina per landed strike. Against monsters, it restores 2.5%.]

[Description: This spear was crafted using the ribcage of a vile evil monster and the menace of that monster was further propagated by the piece of the Guardian of the Void gate who was besieged and slaughtered. The creator is unknown, but the creation process is one that even higher beings will get envious of.]

Northern stared at the description for a bit. He felt the praise, and he liked it. Dwelled on it for a moment, let it sit warm in his chest before his mind wandered to what was actually pulling at him.

It wasn’t exactly bothering him. More like a curious thread dangling in front of his face, and he couldn’t resist tugging it.

So, apparently, the Void had a gate. If the Void had a gate, then did that mean the Void was a place? An entire realm, maybe.

And how long ago was this? Before the creation of Tra-el?

’Well, Tra-el wasn’t really created in the true sense. It was modified.’

Northern was guessing, but it was an educated guess. Those Origins could never have created a world from nothing, especially not after the war they’d turned their own mother into a weapon for and still ended up losing. Not even Ul would have been able to create a world from scratch.

It was far more likely that they’d modified an existing world to great lengths, erased what it once was and rebuilt something new from its scraps.

That would explain how the Owldoctor still found himself in this world even though it was far different from what he called his own. The bones of the old world were still beneath the surface.

All of it was the fault of the Origins.

Northern caught himself already dripping with anger before he breathed out and returned to his initial train of thought.

The Void gate.

’I need to find it.’

He didn’t know how, but if there was a Void gate, he needed to find it at all cost. That might be his way to the Chaos Prince, the place where the bastard was hiding and recuperating.

Northern sighed and held the spear.

It was about seven meters long, matte black like the armor, textured with fine ridges and grooves that caught the light of the forge. Faint crimson lines ran along its length like capillaries beneath skin.

The spearhead was long and slightly curved, a translucent black material that resembled smoky quartz. Where the blade met the haft, a single gold-crimson rune was branded into the metal, simpler than the armor’s constellation of sigils but no less deliberate.

It hadn’t been in Northern’s original plan to decorate it with runes. He’d wanted the armor to look as malicious as it possibly could, and assumed the spear would need the same treatment. But the materials themselves had done the work for him. He’d underestimated them.

Northern kept smiling. For something he’d forged in under twenty minutes, this was a very satisfying result.

’Good, good, this is good... perhaps I’ll be able to forge shadow armors for all my echoes. Then I can name them Shadow Echoes...’

He grinned.

’And then the central generals will have different armor types, all of them leading different legions.’

Northern suddenly started laughing in the pit, so loudly that it resonated outward and rolled across the caldera.

Somewhere beside the pentatonic forge, Chrys was supervising the finishing touches when the sound reached him. He stiffened.

’Good stars, what is he thinking of doing to those poor Empire soldiers again.’

***

Three days.

It had been three days since the barbarian left, swearing he would return with the head of the man who had devastated the Empire’s army. Three days, and Lord Pyrrhus hadn’t so much as caught sight of the fool’s shadow.

The man stood with his arms folded, facing Colak with a bitter expression carved into his face.

He didn’t say anything for several seconds.

Then he finally spoke.

”I suppose you were not exaggerating, Colak.”

Colak didn’t respond immediately. He shook his head slowly.

”I have served you loyally for seven years, Pyrrhus. Believe me when I tell you, this is beyond us. We have to call upon the Sixth Prince.”

He pressed on before Pyrrhus could interrupt.

”With his arrival, a numbered Knight would follow, one of the double digits. That alone would change the tide, and that’s not even speaking of Lord Rigel’s presence himself.”

Lord Pyrrhus’s brows creased. He was reluctant to bring the Prince into this. Ryugan was a small nation. He had cooked this plan perfectly, and by all rights, it should have been the easiest conquest of his career.

Calling upon the Sixth Prince meant admitting he had failed.

And failure was the one thing he could not afford. His father would be very disappointed in him.

He had worked his ass off to get to this point. He couldn’t surrender it now.

A different expression settled over Lord Pyrrhus’s face, one that vibrated with resolve.

”No. We will not call the Sixth Prince.”

He gritted his teeth and slammed his fist against the table in the center of his tent.

”I have not failed. I will lead the subjugation myself, with the full force of my household knights and what remains of our forces. We will break down Ryugan’s gate, and I don’t care who they’ve hired to protect them.” His voice dropped, hard and certain. ”I will tear them down.”

His eyes were brimming with a dangerous light.