I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

After the rift with Lieutenant Dante, as a member of the Tharion Citadel, Northern was mandated to document everything—the rift, its monsters, and his personal experiences within it.

The citadel offered special incentives for privileged information, particularly regarding the talents of others. And considering who they had coincidentally entered the rift with, Thalen had made those incentives particularly spicy.

That was when Northern made an unexpected discovery.

He had a surprising love for spicy food.

But this wasn't about spice. Or food.

Without hesitation, he disclosed everything he had learned about the military personnel he had encountered in the rift.

Shortly after, a conversation had transpired between him and Thalen, the Citadel Headmaster. And Thalen had a very particular suspicion—

Lieutenant Dante was up to something devious.

Shin and the others had also shared their experiences from the governor's mansion.

Lieutenant Dante had attacked Arcadia.

Though he hadn't reduced the city to rubble, he had killed the governor and his daughter—the last surviving members of their family.

The battle had left more than half the city in ruins. Even days later, as Northern and the entourage of the Tharion Citadel departed, the earth beneath Arcadia still trembled—a lingering echo of the destruction that had been unleashed.

And so, Northern had kept it in the back of his mind—the uneasy suspicion that Lieutenant Dante was plotting something.

Yet, no matter how much he tried to piece it together, the linchpin that connected everything—the lieutenant's true intentions, his single wish in exchange for granting Northern three—eluded him.

Dante had claimed he merely wanted friendly terms. But after traveling through the rift together, Northern found it hard to believe.

But then, perhaps he was just being paranoid.

Perhaps the lieutenant truly did not wish to cross paths with him again—not after witnessing his strength firsthand.

'Which is a good thing… since I don't want to either…'

That was the last of his thoughts on the matter.

Until Eleina returned—missing a leg, speaking in fragmented words about something stirring in the Central Plains.

It should have been none of his business.

But his curiosity—and his care for Eleina—got the best of him.

He wanted to know.

To understand what exactly was wrong.

And why Eleina believed the students were in danger because of it.

So, he made a decision.

He would investigate the blockade himself.

And now, here he was—standing amidst the results of his investigation.

The Shopkeeper had promised to tell him more, even offering his friendship to Northern.

But instead, he had sent Northern into a place where entry and exit were impossible.

Without a doubt, he had expected Northern to fail.

A quiet chuckle escaped Northern's lips.

'Oh, he's going to be more than just a friend. That guy is doomed.'

Putting that aside, Northern analyzed the situation.

From what he observed, the blockade posed no immediate danger to the students.

The true focus seemed to be Lithia—and for some reason, it was entirely centered around the city's role as a Trade Hub.

Lithia was the second-largest distribution channel, making it a vital artery for commerce.

The first? Reimgard.

But surrounding an Empire like Reimgard with monsters was a pointless endeavor.

They likely had more than enough powerful forces to dismantle such a blockade with ease.

Which meant—whoever was behind this had deliberately chosen Lithia instead.

But what gnawed at Northern the most was how exactly they were managing to pull this off.

And more importantly—

Why were other nations turning a blind eye to this?

Even though this blockade was subtly affecting their lower markets, there had been no intervention.

The entire situation felt disjointed—a mess of scattered intentions.

Chaotic. Disorganized. But deliberate.

Yet Northern knew for sure that he was on the right track.

At the very least, the students were exempt from immediate danger.

Once the event was over, they would board their airships and safely return to the academy.

That was one less concern.

But another problem lingered.

It was a nagging thought, buried deep but refusing to fade.

Something about the hijackers—and that strange man Black Mamba had found on the secluded island.

It was unrelated to the blockade, at least on the surface.

Yet, the sheer existence of the question itself bothered the hell out of him.

There were no immediate answers.

But Northern knew—

Where there were questions, there was always a trail.

And he intended to find it.

Finally, they neared the bridge—the only connection between the open expanse and the small island nestled within the river's parting currents.

The bridge itself was a colossal structure, built and reinforced with rift-bred metals—strong enough to withstand most threats.

Not just any monster could break through it.

But maybe something as gigantic as the creature Northern had just erased might have.

Thankfully, there were no signs of such an abomination.

For now, they were safe.

The only immediate threat came from the monsters swarming below, their twisted forms desperately clawing at the bridge, trying to force their way up.

But that was no issue.

It was easy to fight them from above.

Northern scanned their surroundings, his sharp gaze sweeping over the landscape. Everything appeared to be going well.

But there was one problem.

The Beast of Burden could not climb the bridge with them.

Its massive weight would strain the structure, and Northern wasn't entirely sure it could hold.

So, as they reached the bridge's entrance, everyone dismounted.

Northern patted the creature's broad, sturdy back.

"Thanks, buddy. You've been very helpful."

The Beast of Burden let out a deep, resonant growl before retreating into the Limitless Void, along with the crates it carried.

Roma's gaze lingered—not on the beast, but on the crates.

She stared at them as the creature seductively strode into the small rift, releasing a low, creeping growl.

Northern noticed.

His voice was even, unreadable.

"Do you have an attachment to those crates?" His piercing eyes locked onto her. "I remember you asking about their contents."

Roma's reaction was immediate—a sudden, involuntary shudder.

Northern's frown deepened.

She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, her eyes dropping to the ground.

His stare sharpened.

"You know what they are, don't you?"

"Uh?"

"The purple liquid in those bottles—you know what it is."
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Roma's entire body tensed.

She took an instinctive step back, her eyes widening.

"…You checked it?"

Northern's gaze flicked briefly toward the Drifters ahead, watching as they ascended the bridge, helping the pregnant woman and the elderly man up the stairs.

Then, his eyes returned to Roma.

He shrugged.

"Nothing is truly hidden from my eyes."

Lifting a hand, he gestured to his resplendent blue irises.

"I can see all things."

Roma studied him, her expression laced with confusion. But after a moment, she accepted his words. There were too many things about him that didn't make sense.

Why should this be any different?

Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair before speaking.

"The items in those crates… are extremely dangerous materials."

Her gaze shifted toward Lithia, now barely visible in the distance.

"…But seeing the state of the city, I can understand why they need it."

She turned back to Northern, parting her lips to continue.

However—

She never got the chance.

A terrible tremor ripped through the earth.

The ground shuddered violently beneath them.

Northern's expression hardened. His head snapped toward the forest facing them.

Something was moving.

A large portion of the forest—no, a massive section—was slowly rising.

The towering trees began to unfold, their shapes shifting, separating—

Differentiating.

Northern's mouth fell open.

So did Roma's.

And so did everyone else's.