I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

All those questions boiled inside of him like an angry volcano. And yet, Northern could not bring himself to voice any of them.

He was angry at the girl—no doubt. Angry at her irrationality, at her stupidity. But hadn't he always been angry with them?

Angry with Raven.

Angry with Terence.

Angry with Helena.

He had always been angry with all of them. Even though they had given him reason, even though they had incurred his wrath in one way or another, his grudge had lasted longer than it should.

Was there something he lacked so desperately…?
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'She had said it once, hadn't she? What had she called it again…? Ah…'

Passion.

Raven had looked him in the eye and said:

"You lack passion."

He hadn't agreed with her. From that time, he had gone on to achieve a lot.

Or at least…

'…'

Northern's mind suddenly blanked.

He tried to think of his achievements. Yet, strangely, nothing came to mind.

Nothing that mattered.

He had become a Sage. The youngest in history!

But then, he thought about what Annette had said about Raven.

That demon spawn of a girl had gone from being a deadly criminal to becoming the leader of the Luingard Empire's Knights.

How?

Northern had always known that comparison killed one's achievements. It made them feel small. Insignificant.

But standing here, in this moment of reflection… what else could he do?

It was always everyone else that was the problem.

But was that really the case?

Did he not need to start looking at things differently?

Try a bit more?

And if he did agree… then his proper reaction right now should not be anger.

But rather—sincere curiosity.

***

Northern sighed, blinking as he suppressed himself. Then, he looked at the girl evenly and—without a word—reached up and removed his mask.

Roma startled slightly, eyes widening.

"Uh…"

She froze mid-sentence, caught off guard.

He was beautiful. A beauty that did not belong to this world—pristine, jaded, untouchable. His eyes held something indescribable, something that made her heart stammer against her ribs.

Then, his hoarse voice cut into her thoughts.

"My name is Rian."

"Ah… uh… I'm Roma."

She looked away, scratching her cheek, still utterly confused.

Northern simply averted his gaze, scanning the land around them. His expression darkened.

"There's not enough time to bury everyone," he said. "Whatever killed them isn't far. It probably smells us already. If we want to get to the blockade, we need to move fast."

He turned back to her.

"Do you know the way?"

Roma's expression stiffened, confusion instantly replaced with sharp focus.

"Well…"

She turned briskly, making her way toward a fallen body.

Northern squinted, watching her carefully.

He had decided to stay for one reason.

'I will see for myself—without being an asshole—just what it means to be passionate.'

To his surprise, Roma returned with a bloody map in her equally bloody hands. She offered a faint smile, raising it for visibility.

"I'm a very good map reader… so it shouldn't be difficult."

Then, after a pause, she looked at him—her eyes carrying a slightly pained expression.

"You really don't need to do this," she said quietly. "You don't need to feel responsible for me or anything like that. My decision to go to the blockade is personal... And reckless."

Northern smiled.

Roma's breath hitched.

It was good to see him smiling. But why? Why the hell did she like seeing him smile?

'He's a Sage, oh, Eldech, just what is my cutton brain expecting?'

Her thoughts shattered when his voice cut through them—demanding her full attention.

"Whatever it is that's leading you to the blockade, you seem passionate about it. So I want to know why." His gaze darkened slightly. "I want to see if passion is something worth pursuing and living for."

Roma tilted her head.

"…What are you talking about? Of course it is!!"

Her voice rang with such raw conviction that even she startled at the sound of it.

Her heart pounded—not from fear, but from sheer frustration.

Frustration that someone like him—someone so impossibly strong—could even question something so obvious.

If she had even an ounce of what he had… just an ounce…

She clenched her fists, then shook her head, discarding the thought.

Instead, she took a step forward. Her boots sank into the bloodstained snow.

"You think passion is something you need to see before you believe in it?"

Northern narrowed his eyes, silent.

Roma exhaled sharply, shaking her head.

"It's not something you wait for, Rian. It's something you decide. Something you throw yourself into—even when it makes no sense."

She scoffed.

"Well, I don't expect a Sage to really understand that…"

Northern frowned slightly. Being judged on such a premise did not feel good.

Roma glanced at the carnage surrounding them.

"I'm sure you think I'm stupid for still trying to reach the blockade?"

Northern's expression shifted slightly. He was glad she knew his stance on her stupidity.

Her voice followed quickly.

"…Maybe I am." She lifted her chin. "Maybe I should turn back. Go home. Pretend none of this ever happened."

She took another step forward.

"But if I do that… then what was all this for?"

Her voice carried weight. Her golden eyes gleamed with something burning. Something brilliant.

"Every sacrifice, every life taken, lights a flame in my heart. These people… if not for anything… for these people, I have to get to that blockade."

She exhaled, pressing a hand against her chest as if holding something fragile inside of her.

"I have reason. I have promise. And that is my strength. That is why—even though I am not a Drifter—I feel something rising. Something burning in my veins."

She took another step.

"Even though Gareon knew he would die the moment he moved, his body moved nonetheless."

Her voice lowered. Then, softly, she asked—

"…Haven't you been curious why?"

Northern said nothing.

Roma's voice dipped, quiet and sharp.

"…Because of reason."

She lifted her gaze, golden irises glowing.

"I'm sure he had a reason. One guided by principles. So therefore—he couldn't just bring himself to sit still and hope you survived."

Her hands clenched.

"Strength without something to fight for… it's empty."

She pressed her hand more firmly against her chest.

"I'm going to the blockade because I have a reason. I don't care if it's reckless. I don't care if I die doing it."

Her breath trembled.

"Because if I turn back now… I might as well already be dead."

The words settled in the cold air.

She inhaled deeply, gaze still burning.

"…And that's why passion matters."

She let her words settle between them like falling snow, watching him closely.

"So don't just follow me to 'observe,' Rian."

She turned away and said over her shoulders.

"If you're coming, then fight for something. Even if it's just to find out what that something is."