I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 308 The Formless Demon [Part 1]



Chapter 308 The Formless Demon [Part 1]

Northern panted.

How long had it been now that they'd been fighting? He had lost count and lost sight of others.

Behind him, however, was a sea of corpses, many that he alone had slain.

He could hear the sound of clashes here and there around the corners of buildings. He was sure that his clones and Cal were probably still locked in a tiresome battle with the ever-coming monsters.

He was tired, beyond tired, and his pool of void essence was beginning to run dry.

He had barely just enough to keep the two clones—three clones—alive. FiNd 𝒖pd𝒂tes on n(𝒐)/v𝒆l𝒃𝒊n(.)c𝒐m

Of course, since Corpse Eater was practically a void summon now, he didn't need his essence to manifest them.

Void summons were creatures of their own self. They drew power from the same source he drew it. They, too, had their own reserves of void essence.

So Northern did not need to worry about the Corpse Eater. He also didn't want to call Pangu, who was embodying Koll. He would undoubtedly be a great asset to the battlefield right now, but Northern refused.

He wanted that route to be his last resort. Right now, he just wanted to gain as many talent fragments as he could.

He breathed and adjusted his grip on both the Soul Taker and Mortal Blade. His joints felt numb and were throbbing, crudely smeared with violet blood.

He still had to continue fighting though; more of the White Walkers were coming out of the palace. Northern stood at the entrance, his gaze cold as he watched them all come out.

Then the helmet of Night Terror armor unfolded, covering his face.

Four visors gleamed with vicious azure flames that shrouded his eyes.

Northern dismissed the Mortal Blade and held the Soul Taker with both hands.

So far so good, this was the only sword that was the most ideal to use.

Since it attacked the soul directly.

He'd have to rely on it heavily since he wouldn't be able to use as much essence as he used to.

Now, he had to minimize everything and just focus on cutting them down while using the Chaos footwork to get the best of what it is.

He just hoped his stamina would not betray him.

With an exhale, Northern burst forward, entering into the small crowd of White Walkers in a flash.

The moment he appeared, he swung his sword over one's neck, cleanly cutting it off. Another lashed its weapon from the side, but it was already within view.

Northern threw a leg backward, kicking away its leg before the ax could make it half the distance. This caused the White Walker to lose balance and fall on one knee.

Immediately, Northern twirled and smashed its head with a kick.

The other one that leaped at him in that instance was a female. Northern just extended one hand backward and muttered,

"Burn."

Before landing on him, she was consumed by black flames that suddenly shot out of his hands.

Having already seen the next attack, Northern already knew what to do. Being close to the palace wall, he shot forward on it, running two more steps on it before flipping over the incoming attack.

From behind, he plunged the Soul Taker into the monster, wrenched it out through the side, and left the monster's flank torn.

Violet gore flowed in abundance, coloring the whiteness of the ground and giving it a crude yet aesthetic visual.

Northern didn't mind, he didn't care, he didn't spare another glance at those he had plunged his sword into, for he was a hundred percent sure that it meant their end.

There were two reasons that formed the foundation of that assurance.

First was the lesson he had learned from the faceless voice.

Because of his frequent use of the same style, in just a couple of hours, [Formless] had absorbed it to the brim such that Northern felt he was instinctively using the basis that the voice had taught him like he had been used to it for years.

If this was the case, he just couldn't help but be so grateful towards the voice.

And was also getting to realize the true usefulness of [Formless].

Because under no circumstances will anyone pick up a sword and master its basis of swing and slash in just a couple of hours.

Because of how instinctive it felt, Northern was assured that each cut was deep enough to render his prey lifeless. Of course, the voice of the system was there to confirm this belief of his.

And usually, he was always right. He could tell how deep the cut was; it was a feeling he felt at the tip of his hand every time his sword bit into the flesh of his target.

The second reason was because of the Soul Taker itself.

After several uses of the weapon, Northern had come to understand a simple yet fascinating thing about the sword.

It was a sword that dealt damage to the soul undoubtedly.

But the strength of the damage was in sync with the will of the user.

There were some enemies Northern had to cut twice while there were some Northern just cut once, of course that was before now—when he just covered his face with the helmet.

Meaning that Soul Taker's sharpness towards the soul responded to his own resolve to cut.

And currently, his resolve was razor sharp.

So were his movements, definite and exact.

Chaotic in its pattern and did not stick to one form. He didn't know how it was happening; they were all instinctive and he was sure that this was all because of [Formless].

The attribute not only just allowed him to copy things from people, it turned him into a demon of adaptation and change.

He didn't know what those words meant before; he was just getting to realize it in this battle.

Another thing it brought together was the effect of his now increased stats for speed. At first it was hard to keep up with the changes of the new talent [Windstride].

But now, he was beginning to get into its groove and even wanted to dare creative improvising, such as exhibiting the amazing speed control he had seen the White Walker display during their fight—coming to a sudden halt in front of him—

but he knew better than being cocky.

He needed to give himself to a gradual growth.

And the realization of what [Formless] truly meant was the beginning of his change.

The beginning of everything he would be in the future.

His formlessness was bound to make him into a demon of flexibility, adaptation, and development, one that cannot be copied, a non-stereotypical demon.

A Formless demon.

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[A/N]

I'm sorry it took this long, I just had to take my time in making sure Northern realizes the true worth of the first attribute he received, now this realization will form a sturdy foundation for his growth and improvement.

I'm saying, you'll begin to see changes in many areas from henceforth, because this change would even transcend into his personality.

Of course, I'm not saying he is going to be perfect, but he is going to start living up to expectations at the very least.

Thanks guys for sticking with me till this point, I'm really happy you guys were this patient with my annoying MC :)

Keep supporting me, like you have been. I love you guys.

THIS CHAPTER UPLOAD FIRST AT NOVELBIN.COM


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