I Can Copy And Evolve Talents - Chapter 439

Chapter 439: Gahalad Luinngard III
Gahalad, Luinngard III, stood before Northern with a stark expression of blankness on his face. No trace of emotion could be read from his eyes.

Northern matched his intimidating presence with an amazing level of confidence; anyone present would call him cocky.

He didn’t know what he was doing. The Emperor is a Paragon, a Drifter whose soul rank has achieved evanescence—in modern terms, he was peak existence.

At the very least, they were an embodiment of power closest to what should be the real peak. The fact that they had hit a great wall in advancement did not mean they were not strong enough to put gutsy brats like this white-haired kid in their place.

The air around them was silent; the night was reaching its peak. However, the moonlight cast a brilliant luminance over the sky, making the night bright enough for anyone to navigate through the streets and see the havoc that had been wrecked by the flood.

Northern was still vexed by the statement the Emperor had made; there had been no exchange of words between them since then.

And honestly, when he thought deeper about it, he was vexed. Very vexed.

“You do know I saved your damned empire, right?”

Coming in that tone from a little-looking boy like him, the Emperor frowned darkly.

“You seem to have not learned manners at all. Much so, when you are standing before a monarch.”

“If you wanted me to bow, don’t you think now is a little late for that? You punched a hole through my belly and now call me a careless, weak drifter. Fuck manners.”

Northern’s tone was unapologetically dripping with disrespect.

The Emperor frowned, but his patience was nearing its limits. Veins were bulging along his temples, and his jaw was hardening.

No one would have taken such disrespect from a kid lightly, especially not the Emperor!

The ground shook, and the Emperor vanished, streaking towards Northern with his essence blazing forth from his back like the propulsion of a rocket. His fist looked like it was tearing through the air as it hurtled towards its target.

Before Northern’s magnificent eyes, all this fell into a slowed series of movements; he was unfazed by the Emperor’s speed.

In fact, he was quite surprised.

‘Did I overestimate him? It’d be disappointing if this is the best he can do.’

Northern easily maneuvered through the Emperor’s fist, tilting his head out of the way. With Chaos footwork, he looked like he was about to fall.

But he simply twisted his body to roll to the other side. The Emperor was sure Northern would fall due to his desperate last-second maneuver—that’s how anyone would see it.

But to his surprise, Northern had bypassed him, appearing behind him.

Simultaneously, Northern’s eyes widened as the impact of the Emperor’s fist against the air made their vicinity tremble, razing the ground forward with catapulted force.

Reflexively, the Emperor twisted, his body blazing out in essence. Northern vanished from the Emperor’s space, appearing instantaneously far away.

His eyes still bore the vivid shock of the firepower he had just witnessed.

‘Insane, crazy!’ Northern’s mind screamed.

He hadn’t been chanced to see it the first time it happened. Now that he could, he realized for real how much he had underestimated the might of a Paragon.

Of course, he wasn’t just there brooding. Northern’s feet blazed with a blue flame, instantly striking widened eyes on the Emperor’s face.

There was an obvious resemblance between Northern’s ability and his. The Emperor could feel it with every fiber of his muscles—that was his ability.

Northern grinned and bolted forward. The Emperor met him with a powerful block. The impact of Northern’s kick smashing into his crossed arms caused the ground to shudder heavily; cracks spread around for a second.

Without giving each other space, they continued. Each of their blows was so powerful that it seemed like the force of impact was tearing the ground apart.

Cataclysmic, loud sounds reverberated into the air with each thrown assault. Both of them were fast—so fast that even the Savants and Sages among the nobles could not see what exactly was going on.

All they could see were red and blue flame-like streaks circling each other with showering sparks and intermittent tremors.

So much so that the Tower Sage froze, his eyes trembling with disbelief.

‘That is Lady Henai’s son? How is a child like him fighting like that with the Emperor?’

Guillever was fascinated, beyond impressed, but he was also worried. ‘The longer the battle goes, the more dangerous it is for Henai’s kid.’

Guilever gritted his teeth, ‘I have to step in somehow.’

He raised his head, from the top of the building, and thanks to the damage the flood had done to multiple structures, it was pretty easy to see the harbor from his point.

Several ships had been turned over, but three of them still stood gallant like gigantic beasts of the sea.

His eyes traced down to the path where numerous ragged people were viciously tearing through the ranks of soldiers.

Everything was in disarray; the flood had dealt tumultuous damage to the majority of civilians and knights. Many were situated in the noble district. The ones holding those people off had their morale at rock bottom.

They probably didn’t even know what they were fighting so hard to protect.

He snarled subtly but angrily and looked around again.

The princes, who should be doing something about the current situation, helping their father bring back order and organization to the Empire, were secretly watching and probably waiting for a chance to strike their father.

Everything that could go wrong with a country happened all in one night. Frustration boiled in his blood, causing him to fume.

“What exactly is their use when all they do is blame each other and plot against their father? Bunch of spineless rats. Unfit to lead,” he cursed beneath his breath.

But Guilever also knew why they were so impatient and stupid. The Emperor was a Paragon, still looking even younger than them.

If care was not taken, they wouldn’t taste the throne, and it would naturally pass to their grandchildren.

Both of them had that fear that they might never understand what it means to rule a nation—princes who never became Emperors.

However, that fear had totally blinded them.

‘Too sad, I’m the only person who can see in this nation,’ Guilever clicked his tongue regretfully and brought his attention back to Northern and the Emperor.

He still couldn’t help but be greatly astonished by how much Northern was holding his own against a Paragon.

A smile spread across his lips, ‘Even if he’s a bastard, the blood of Reimgard is the blood of Reimgard after all, can’t be compared to these fake-blood bastards.’