I Can Copy And Evolve Talents - Chapter 843

Chapter 843: Escape Plan
Paragon Raizel turned his head, his gaze settling on the white-haired man standing beside him.

For a brief moment, his eyes flickered with something foreign—unrecognition, as if the world itself had momentarily slipped from his grasp. But within that brief lapse, in the depths of his gaze, a ferocious flame blazed—a consuming wrath, smoldering with unchecked might.

Yet, under that furious heat, Bairan remained impassive. Unaffected. He neither flinched nor wavered, daring to stand within reach of the Paragon. Worse… he even touched him.

The atmosphere burned with Raizel’s rage, an oppressive storm threatening to explode. But then—he smiled.

The next instant, the oppressive weight vanished as if it had never existed.

Northern and the others stood frozen, disbelief flickering in their eyes. No one—no one—had ever seen Paragon Raizel’s face twisted in anger before.

He had always been a chill, charismatic presence, his easygoing nature making it dangerously effortless to forget what his level of existence entailed.

Today, they had been reminded.

Raizel swept his gaze across the gathering, his eyes lingering on Ascendant Zion, Sage Mack, and Ilitis—each in a pitiful state.

Then, his voice, smooth yet weighted, cut through the silence:

“Guys, I sincerely apologize. I lost myself for a moment there…”

Ascendant Zion, still panting, rubbed his throat before forcing out a sharp exhale.

“It’s fine, sir! It’s not like it’s your fault we were weak.”

His gaze flickered toward Northern, the only one left standing completely unaffected.

At the same moment, Raizel spoke again.

“You keep amazing me, Ral. To think you could withstand that pressure so easily… Do you know what that was?”

Northern’s gaze lingered on the Paragon for a fraction longer before he responded.

“I wouldn’t say easily… I felt it as much as everyone else. Maybe I just had better endurance?”

Raizel scoffed.

“You should give yourself more credit. You just easily survived a facet of Essence Manifestation.”

Then, his gaze shifted—landing on Bairan. His expression grew obstinate, his eyes trailing to the Sword King’s hand still resting on his shoulder.

“You can take it off now… thank you.”

A crooked grin flitted across Bairan’s lips before vanishing just as quickly. He withdrew his hand, stepping back until he stood behind Northern.

‘Essence… Manifestation… No wonder.’

Northern had been in the presence of anger before—different kinds of it. Rage, fury, indignation, wrath. Yet none had ever pressed into his soul the way Paragon Raizel’s just had.

A Paragon truly was a magnificent existence. He couldn’t wait to reach that stage.

‘I wonder what kind of things a Luminary would be capable of…’

Sighing inwardly, he brought his focus back to the room, stating evenly:

“I didn’t know your ties with the inner chambers of the government were so deep. It suddenly makes sense why Dante would go through all that effort to cage you here.”

For a few moments, Paragon Raizel was silent, his expression unreadable. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he let out a small smile—gloomy, almost embarrassed.

“My… uhm, wife… is there…”

Northern’s eyes widened. Then widened again.

“…Your wife is a government official?”

The entire room fell silent. Everyone was just as stunned, their expressions mirroring Northern’s disbelief.

“Oh wow. I never thought you had a wife!” Sage Mack blurted out.

“You look more like the type that has a lot of mistresses instead.” Ascendant Zion grinned hard, looking oddly pleased—shocked, amazed, but also strangely entertained.

Raizel exhaled sharply. “Will you two shut those loose things you call mouths?”

“Yes.”

“Sure, boss.”

The Paragon rubbed his temple, fingers threading through crimson hair with a flicker of frustration. He didn’t like being vulnerable. Northern could tell. It was an odd feeling to see him this way—like witnessing a mountain tremble for the first time.

But strangely, within the next breath, he was composed again.

His gaze steadied, his voice quiet but firm.

“Ivory is all I have left. She’s the reason I haven’t become a lost cause. I’ve had plenty of opportunities to go astray. The world has betrayed me multiple times. The government, too. But she… she has this way of keeping me sane. Keeping me whole…”

His voice trailed.

“…Plus…”

The weight of his hesitation settled over the room like a thundercloud, thick and heavy.

“…She’s pregnant.”

The air turned cold.

For a split second, Northern felt the rage—the same wrath Raizel had displayed earlier, surging like a slow-burning inferno.

‘…Ahhh. Crap. Dante, son of a goat.’

One glance around the room confirmed it. Everyone else probably felt the same.

The mood had turned grave, suffocating.

Then, amidst the silence, Ascendant Zion beamed. His smile was warm, his voice light yet unwavering—cutting through the tension like a knife through mist.

“Don’t worry, sir. I’m sure your wife and her unborn child will be perfectly fine. And we will save them. Right?”

He turned toward Northern, waiting for confirmation.

Northern met his gaze.

“…Right. We’ll save them.”

Raizel let out a breath, a small, almost self-deprecating smile on his lips.

“I’m slightly embarrassed… I should be the one assuring you guys.”

Northern shrugged.

“It’s alright. Even a Paragon could use help too.”

His voice turned sharper, more focused.

“So—what location do you think we should head to instead of Verulania?”

Paragon Raizel’s expression turned stern.

“Fhugal.”

Northern’s face darkened.

“…Fhugal? Fhugal is far.”

Raizel nodded. “Fhugal is where the HQ is. If there’s anywhere Dante is currently in—or will end up in—it’s Fhugal.”

Northern narrowed his eyes. “Will end up in?”

“My assumption is that he’s moving systematically, hunting government officials one by one. Fhugal is the most fortified stronghold of the government. The hardest to breach… and my wife is there. The Dante I know would save the best for last.”

His voice cooled, his expression hardening further.

“It’s also the only place where people can be safe—so long as we eliminate the imminent threat.”

He folded his arms and began pacing.

“We don’t know what Dante has prepared in Verulania in case I escaped. And he knows I wouldn’t escape alone, which means he’s prepared something big. Something overwhelming. But Fhugal… at least there, we know what we’re up against.”

Silence settled over the room. Everyone absorbed his words, weighing the risks.

Then, Ilitis broke the quiet.

“If that’s the case… I think the Drifters should travel separately.”

Raizel’s gaze shifted toward him.

Ilitis continued, voice steady.

“As my liege has said, Fhugal is far. If we all move together, our presence will be exposed long before we arrive. Speed is the key to reaching Fhugal in time… but unfortunately, not everyone here has it. Instead, we should use the Drifters to create a diversion—while those with overwhelming speed make a direct move toward Fhugal. That means you and my liege.”

Sage Mack frowned slightly. “How are we supposed to cross the blockade without the Paragon…?”

Northern exhaled, his voice calm but resolute.

“I’ll send my people with you. They’ll be enough to carve a path through the blockade. All you need to do is support them. Paragon Raizel and I will fly straight to Fhugal—that’s the fastest way.”

Raizel considered his words, his gaze unreadable. After a few seconds, he spoke again.

“Just out of curiosity… when you say your people… who exactly do you mean?”

Northern hesitated.

Then, his gaze met Raizel’s.

“…I guess it’s better to show you.”

The air in the room turned cold.