I Can Copy And Evolve Talents - Chapter 61

What Do You Fight For?
With how unseemly the situation had become, Northern stared indifferently with an eerie calmness.

His stance was slightly bent, extending the Mortal Blade in the pursuit of blood and flesh… to render the terror that stood before him asunder…well, terrors.

One of them was enough trouble already.

Well, it was unsure if he remembered how much of difficulty facing Night Terror posed or even though his consciousness was lost in the cold darkness of oblivion, his instincts still carved a memory of fear from that encounter.

Maybe he was tentatively looking at them right now because of the unspoken, unthought memories of fear that coursed not through his head but rather his muscles.

The two terrors stood apart from him, one holding a wicked, corrupted pole steel with sharp needle like edge almost kissing the ground.

The other gleamed with equal eyes of maliciousness, it had this serene flame of pure evil burning beyond the red shaft that could be seen in its eyes.

Northern’s ragged breath soon became the only thing he could here, an uncomfortable silence overwhelmed every thing in that moment, drenching it in the tensed drum roll of the imminent danger poised by this two terrific creatures.

The one with spear poised to attack, and lunged at Northern with the spear.

Sidestepping the attack, Northern used the edge of his teneborous blade to control the direction of the spear, sparks flowing as its slid across his side.

Creating a ‘Two seconds’ opening he threw his arms into the monster’s midsection, punching as hard as he could.

A blast of wind exploded from the monster’s back, making the room shiver slightly.

The other Terror was poised to attack, flying through the air with onyx claws curved to cleave Northern’s throat.

But he quickly reacted with his blade, sucking his breath as shock from the parried strike reverberated through his hands, making them stiff for a second.

He jumped back– as both monsters regrouped as glared viciously at him.

He looked at the hand he had used to punch the monster moment ago. His face could tell that even he did not expect such explosive power from himself.

But there was no time to be caught up in the good feeling this strength gave him.

He was faced with two powerful monsters with absolutely no way forward and a limited space.

Northern glanced around, then at the window.

There seemed to be only one solution.

Even if his consciousness was lost, his intuition, honed from thr character of his person from before this world still took over his senses completely.

Maybe that was a good thing… maybe it was not…

But right now, the only solution that Northern seemed to be thinking about… shone in his eyes.

Both terrors lunched at him again, a spear twirling before it rendezvous its sharp blade towards his neck from below.

Northern tilted his head back, eyes widened in shock as the passing edge of the spear drew a small line on his cheek as it flew across.

Not a second to spare, the claw of the other ushered in… his sword came in the way, letting out a deafening metallic scream as it deflected the crude talons.

Immediately, Northern had to turn, twist the blade to again deflect another strike from above and in a hair’s breadth parry another claw poised to pierce his belly.

Their attacks were coordinated and fast but what was more frightening was the Northern’s movements.

He flowed with a vicious grace, seamlessly transitioning between the relentless assaults of both terrors.

He twisted and pivoted, the Mortal Blade becoming a blur of ebony steel deflecting wicked claws and a dangerous needle-sharp pole arm.

Each deflection reverberated up in his arms with bone-jarring force but Northern did not lag behind.

As difficult it was for him to force in an attack, so was it for them to find an opening.

But he was a playing a losing game…

With each deflected blow, the weight on Northern’s arms grew heavier, his movements sluggish.

And the feral creatures noticed, pressing their assault with increased ferocity – claws and spear raining down in a relentless flurry.

Teeth gritted, Northern absorbed a strike with both hands clenched on his blade’s hilt.

In that split-second opening, the other Terror’s talons blurred across his vision, slashing upwards in a crimson torrent.

Northern staggered back, face drained of color. Before he could recover, the spear’s shaft smashed into his head.

His world tilted, deafening rings filling his ears as the force whipped his head to the side. His body faltered, slumping to one knee.

The monsters paused, feral eyes burning. The spear-wielder blurred into a vicious spin, hurling its blade at the dazed Northern.

He rolled away desperately, aiming for the window. In one fluid motion he leapt…only for searing agony to erupt as the spear punched through his shoulder, halting his escape mid-air.

Eyes widening in shock, Northern stared down at the bloody tip protruding from his flesh.

The Terror yanked him back viciously, dropping his body to the floor in a crumpled heap.

Crimson seeped across the stone floor as Northern struggled to breathe through the white-hot pain. Dark spots danced at the edges of his vision, his already lost consciousness threatening to abandon him further.

“…North”

Perhaps it was because of the semi conscious state he was in…he could hear a silky voice.

Strangely it felt familiar. But too distant to make a significant difference.

And who the hell was North.

With a strained expression, he shifted his gaze up. Both vicious Terror stood above him, eyes burning with evil and maliciousness.

It was like they were waiting for him to die… no, that was not the case. If they wanted him to die, they would have striked to kill.

But one of the reasons why their attacks could be defended to such degree was because they seemed to be aiming to wound him but not kill him.

He clenched his teeth, trying to resist the stubborn tendrils of darkness that threatened to shut his eyes.

Everything he fought for… this couldn’t be the end of it.

He tried, he really tried to stay awake… but the amount of blood he was losing was beginning to cause his head to feel dizzy.

It got harder to hold on to his consciousness. Northern laid on the ground, his hand posed to raise him up but not ever trying, his vision glued to the hideous feet of the terrors.

Slowly, his consciousness deemed… and before long, Northern passed out.