I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

When pushing a body's physical limits through intense training or battle, the body inevitably rebels against the strain.

Muscles would scream in protest, fibers tearing microscopically with each grueling contraction.

It was a brutal process that tested the boundaries of endurance.

In the case of Northern's clone—a soulless construct beholden to its creator's will, it moved and struck without any corporeal awareness of its own suffering.

No lactic acid buildup to dull reflexes. No shuddering spasms wracking limbs pushed beyond capacity.

It functioned as a cold, mechanical extension of Northern's consciousness; a ruthless weapon devoid of self-preservation instincts.

Despite the clone's indifference to sensory input, the biological stresses remained inescapable facts of harsh laws that bound a human's physical body.

Each desperate parry, every ferocious slice through scale and bone took a toll far beyond what a normal man could withstand—and now, Northern was the one bearing the sense of all that pain now that the clone was gone.

His tendons strained like overstressed cables, threatening to fall apart from the relentless strain and friction.

Muscle fibers combusted in microscopic ruptures with each explosive movement, flooding surrounding tissues with scorching metabolic waste.

Even his skeletal structure groaned in protest at the battering forces that had radiated from the sword's impacts.

After all, it was an exact copy of Northern down to everything that was bound to his soul. Even Northern could tell how inexplicably different it felt when the clone appeared.

Its durability increased, and the link felt clearer than ever before, its response to Northern's mental command was also super fast, and the the responsive stimuli Northern got from it was clearer and synchronized to his head faster than before.

Everything was better. So it only made sense that the pain he felt as those memories were sculpted into his muscles should be much more painful.

Northern's body shook involuntarily as a turmoil of pain coursed through it. He suddenly couldn't move, his whole body was like a mass of stone that was cemented to the ground.

Pain tore through his muscles like a mad lightning bolt navigating its way through thousands of storms. Northern let out a guttural cry as he fell to the ground, attracting the attention of a few.

Including Mr Fluffy, who was busy dealing ground-level damage to heels and running before clawed feet could flatten him to a steak. The pup ran as fast as it could, skillfully maneuvering its way to Northern.

His death guardian who also heard the same cry, with an increased ferociousness, weaved crude waves of axe attacks, pummelling its foes along the way until it got to where Northern was kneeling.

Both monsters stood by Northern as they faced the rest of the horde.

'Damn it! Damn it!'

Northern had not expected

this. He didn't think that the pain was going to be so severe. It was unlike anything he had ever felt.

Before now, he had at least been able to bear it. But this was different.

Northern braced his hand on the ground, pushing his whole weight up but it was to no avail. His body was immovable.

'Crap. You must have really exhausted yourself trying to match up to Night Terror.'

Northern stared down with rough lines beneath his eyes. Perspiration formed all over his face as it slowly dripped to the ground, his chest falling high and low at intervals.

He was ultimately tired. And it wasn't even his own tiredness.

Northern threw his gaze into the dark sky, letting out an odd laughter, oblivious to the ongoing massacre.

His body ached so much, tiredness clawed at him from every angle, but his head was booming with an immense amount of information.

It included the memories of his clone's muscles and the amount of information he was able to sync with his mind through the link and even through what he witnessed with his own eyes. Everything blended perfectly together.

Right now, Northern just fought an arduous combat with the Night Terror, to take down the enemy's general.

His vision dimmed as a murky veil descended, fuzzing the edges until the raging battlefield blurred.

A hollow ringing grew in his ears, muffling the cacophony of shrieks and steel into a dull, indistinct roar.

'...crap. I think I'm going to…'

Strength rapidly drained from Northern's limbs, no longer able to maintain his consciousness.

His sword slipped from numb fingers as his knees buckled, unable to support his weight a moment longer. His body slumped gracelessly to the blood-soaked ground, crumpling like a discarded marionette with severed strings.

Through the darkening tunnel vision, Northern glimpsed Night Terror spinning in a whirlwind of slaughter.

The terror lashed out in a feral but calm motion, each swipe of claws and fanged maws leaving behind a fresh trail of deep, oozing gashes.

Dark vital essences flooded forth in obscene torrents, painting the battlefield in garish streaks as if an artist's morbid canvas.

The four-eyed monster seemed an unstoppable cyclone of annihilation amid the horde, shredding through matted fur and rigid scale with pitiless ease.

Its brutality was at once horrific yet perversely breathtaking to witness— a terrifying spectacle of nature's purest unleashed fury.

As the last of its foes collapsed in rent, mutilated heaps, Night Terror whipped around with uncanny swiftness.

Unearthly crimson orbs immediately found Northern's vulnerable form, instantly honing in on the new potential threat with predatory intensity.

A deep, feral growl rumbled like approaching thunder as the terror curled its immense bulk protectively over the fallen human.

Saliva-slicked fangs were bared in a snarl, daring any of the insignificant lesser monsters to make one careless move towards its unexplainable charge.

Despite sizing up as little more than a meager snack, Night Terror shielded Northern with the same ruthless focus it applied to eviscerating adversaries moments before.

Of course, Northern's death guardian and Mr Fluffy also intended to do the same, Night Terror was just faster—it could be seen in the way they paused, with shock written upon their faces.

The rest of the battle did not take as much effort as the start, with their general dead, the majority of the lizards were just scrambling away.

And the monsters of the Kingdom of Red Mine kept themselves busy, slaughtering them.

It was a play of viciousness that left a bitter taste in the mouth of anyone who dared to be an onlooker. Blood flowed through bodies, forming streams.

The Kingdom of Red Mine had lost several soldiers too, but they stood the victor of this battle… for now.