I Can Copy And Evolve Talents - Chapter 549

Chapter 549: The Fallen Estate
The sprawling expanse of the governor’s mansion was completely unrecognizable, the magnificent building and its nicely kept garden now shattered into a canvas of destruction.

The ground, once smooth and polished, was marred by deep craters, as if the earth itself had become fragile beneath the weight of the battle.

Cracks spiderwebbed across the estate, turning it into a maze of ruptured stone and dirt.

Some fissures stretched for dozens of feet, their jagged edges glowing faintly from the lingering heat of their creation.

Amidst the palette of craters stood a man, the long military coat on his shoulders flapping continuously in the wind, its bottom damaged, burnt, and blackened.

His eyes carried a detached intensity, reflecting the chaos around him.

He stood still, as if the devastation was beneath his concern, merely a trivial consequence of his power.

His boots scraped against the uneven ground as he shifted his stance, surveying the wreckage with an air of grim satisfaction.

Before him, a large figure struggled to rise from one of the deeper craters—a man barely holding onto consciousness, his body battered and bruised. His shirt was ruggedly torn, blood seeping through the lacerated gaps on his skin, and his face was twisted in pain.

“Is this all your strength amounts to?” the man in the military coat asked, his voice cold, devoid of emotion. “I expected more from a governor.”

The fallen man coughed, blood splattering onto the cracked ground as he tried to speak, but the effort was futile.

His voice was lost in the wind, swallowed by the vast emptiness of the battlefield that had once been his home.

Lieutenant Dante sighed boringly. He stabbed his sword impossibly into the ground and brought out another fat blunt from his pocket, complaining in a low tone.

“Damn, I wasted a whole snuff for nothing. If I had known you’d be so easy to deal with, I’d have just fought you with my snuff.”

He lit the fat blunt and put it in his mouth. Then he raised his head to look at the governor.

He exhaled smoke and sighed.

“What a pathetic state you are in, mentor.”

The governor’s closing eyes flickered open, and the man began to regain his previous determination.

“Oh oh. That’s more like it.”

The governor growled painfully, and suddenly—despite his immense weight and size—disappeared into a blur.

Lieutenant Dante’s eyes narrowed slightly as the governor vanished from sight.

He took another long drag from his blunt, the tip glowing faintly in the dim light of the ruined battlefield.

His demeanor remained calm, unbothered by the sudden change in the governor’s behavior.

“Finally,” Dante muttered, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “I was starting to think you’d just lie there and die quietly.”

The air around him shifted as the governor reappeared with a thunderous crash, his fist aimed directly at Dante’s head.

The ground beneath them trembled with the force of his reappearance, sending cracks spiraling outward from where he landed.

Dante puffed out smoke and raised his head slowly to meet the governor’s enormous fist, a crazed grin on his face.

He tilted his head lazily to the side, avoiding the strike by mere inches.

The governor’s fist smashed into the ground, creating yet another deep crater.

Dust and debris exploded into the air, momentarily clouding their surroundings.

“That’s more like it, mentor,” Dante said mockingly, tapping the ash off his blunt. “But you’re still too slow.”

The governor, his face twisted in a mixture of rage and agony, roared as he swung again.

This time, his speed was even greater, each strike coming at Dante with the force of a raging storm.

The air whistled as his fists cut through it, but no matter how fast he moved, Dante evaded every blow with effortless grace, his body swaying just enough to dodge.

“You taught me well,” Dante continued, his tone almost playful. “But you forgot one thing… I don’t play fair.”

Before the governor could react, Dante’s form blurred, vanishing from his sight.

For a moment, the governor was left standing in confusion, his heavy breaths echoing in the stillness of the ruined mansion.

Then, Dante reappeared in front of him. What the governor saw Dante holding made him tremble heavily, his entire form seemed to cave in as he saw the only apple of his eyes, dangling in Dante’s hand with a large hole within her belly, blood trickling down her mouth and belly, running her white shirt.

Everything suddenly became senseless before the poor man.

“DANTTTTEEEEEEE!!!”

His scream, powerful, roared and reverberated across the whole of Arcadia, causing the very air to shudder with intense pressure.

“Oh!” Dante’s mouth opened slightly, surprised as to how the governor still managed to summon so much strength despite having expended himself far enough.

The man grasped a pole of a lampstand that had managed to survive the darkest hours of their battle until this moment.

He pulled it out effortlessly; however, in his hands, the lampstand gained fortification, glowing with a faint purple aura covering its frame, as it increased in size.

The governor’s body trembled as he held the fortified lampstand, now transformed into a massive, glowing weapon infused with his remaining energy.

His eyes, once filled with pain and despair, now burned with an intensity fueled by rage and loss.

The purple aura around the lampstand crackled with violent energy, pulsating in rhythm with his labored breaths.

Dante stood there, the grin never fading from his face, but a glint of curiosity flashed in his eyes.

He lazily flicked the ashes of his blunt into the wind and examined the governor’s newfound weapon with mild amusement.

“So, this is your last stand, eh?” Dante mused, stepping forward nonchalantly. “Amazing how the rage fueled by loss can ignite greater strength. Honestly, mentor, it’s almost touching.”

He lazily flung the girl away, the lifeless body thrashing into the nearby wall.

The governor didn’t respond. His entire focus was now honed in on Dante, his eyes devoid of any traces of humanity, pure rage locked on the Lieutenant that stood before him.

He had taken Dante as a son during his earlier days in the military.

The boy with immense talent, who was praised as a genius, whom every Citadel would spend every ounce of resources to get but decided to be a soldier. A dog for the government.

Back then, the governor, who was just a lieutenant then, had taken this boy as a son, nurtured his talent, and helped him to see the world in a different light.

Who would have thought that Dante would bare the same fangs which the governor helped him grow at the same governor?

With a roar that echoed his earlier cry, he charged, the massive lampstand raised high above his head, now a deadly weapon infused with all the power he had left.

The earth trembled beneath his feet as he rushed forward. His speed, despite his heavy frame, defied logic as he swung the lampstand with the force of a hurricane.

The glowing purple aura around it grew brighter, as if feeding off his fury, becoming a beacon of his final vengeance.

Dante raised an eyebrow, impressed at the sheer speed and power the governor had mustered. But his body remained still, relaxed, as he waited for the inevitable clash.

The lampstand descended with a thunderous crash, the air screaming as it tore through the space between them.

But just as it was about to connect, Dante moved—his form blurring once again.

With impossible grace, he sidestepped the governor’s attack, the ground beneath them exploding as the lampstand impacted the earth, sending chunks of stone and debris flying into the air.

“Too slow,” Dante whispered, appearing behind the governor.

The governor roared in frustration, spinning around with another wild swing, but Dante dodged it effortlessly, his movements fluid and calm.

Each attack was met with the same frustrating evasion, as if Dante was merely toying with him.

“You’re wasting your time, old man,” Dante said, his tone almost bored now. “This won’t change anything. The space between a Sage and a Paragon is enormous, more enormous than you can ever imagine.”

The governor’s breathing grew more labored with each swing, his once-unstoppable force beginning to wane.

But he refused to give up. With every ounce of strength left in him, he continued to fight, each attack more desperate than the last.

Dante sighed, stepping back to avoid another furious swing.

“You know,” he began, stretching his arms casually, “I could have ended this a long time ago. But I wanted you to see it. I wanted you to see just how far you’ve fallen.”

As if on cue, Dante disappeared and reappeared instantaneously. He was carrying the governor’s dead daughter in his arms like a fallen bride.

His mouth contorted sadly, “She’s dead. She really is dead. Your granddaughter. The reason why you became a corrupted bastard. The reason why you became the same people you loathed. The reason why you abandoned us all, to protect her, to give her a better life, to nurture her. Is this not it?!! Is this not it Salmandell, Iron Wall of the military.”

Dante’s face crumpled into dark disgust.

“A sage. A mere sage is all you were able to amount to. You could have been the strongest if only you didn’t stop chasing.”

Neglecting the cries of the lieutenant, the sight of her only reignited the governor’s fury, but his body was betraying him, his movements growing slower, his energy draining with every failed attack.

The purple aura around the lampstand began to flicker, weakening as the governor’s strength gave out.

His swings became sluggish, and finally, with one last, pitiful attempt, he swung the glowing weapon at Dante.

The strike was weak, drained of all power, and Dante didn’t even need to dodge.

The lampstand slipped from the governor’s hands and clattered to the ground.

He stood there for a moment, his body trembling, barely able to keep himself upright. Blood dripped from his wounds, pooling at his feet, and his breathing was shallow, ragged.

Dante watched him, still carrying the governor’s daughter, before casually tossing her body to the ground in front of him.

The governor collapsed to his knees, staring at her lifeless form.

Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the blood and dirt on his skin.

He reached out with trembling hands, trying to touch her, but his strength was gone.

“Please…” the governor whispered, his voice barely audible now. “Not her… please…”

Dante’s grin widened. “You know, mentor, I never did care for sentimentality. But watching you now… it almost makes me feel something. Almost.”

With a swift motion, Dante pulled out his sword from where it was buried, the blade gleaming in the dim light.

He stepped forward, raising it above the governor’s head.

“In the end… you are still a crybaby…”

His face struggled for a bit as he heard the governor’s voice echo in his ears. He frowned with determination barely a bit later.

“You were a good teacher,” Dante said softly, his voice devoid of mockery for the first time. “But all things must end.”

The sword came down, swift and precise.

And with that final strike, the governor’s body cleaved into two equal halves, blood gushing out furiously.

Dante wiped the blade clean and sheathed it, standing amidst the destruction, his expression returning to its usual cold detachment.

The wind picked up once more, carrying away the dust and debris of the fallen estate.