I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 309 The Formless Demon [Part 2]

Northern, though exhausted, continued to swing his sword through the flesh of the White Walkers, paying a certain amount of attention to his footwork while also keeping three compartments of his view focused on all corners whatsoever that were filled with his enemies.

Which meant that he had perfect control of this battlefield.

This compartment view of his further boosted his spatial awareness to an inhuman level. Northern could feel it the moment it entered his space of awareness.

He didn't have to turn most times, and to top it all, his reflex was already getting used to the whole drill such that his reactions sometimes were swift and unprompted.

Northern, with both hands on the Soul Taker, slashed down diagonally, severing the flesh of the White Walker that approached him.

Swiftly, he made a quick turn. His metal boots scraped against the frozen ground as he pivoted, the Soul Taker whistling through the air.

The blade caught the dim light, its edge gleaming for a split second before it plunged into the chest of an approaching White Walker.

Violet blood spurted from the wound, splattering across Northern's armor.

He wrenched the sword free, the sound of tearing flesh barely audible over the cacophony of battle.

Without pause, Northern ducked, feeling the rush of air as a massive axe swung over his head.

He could almost taste the fetid breath of the White Walker looming above him.

In one fluid motion, Northern rose, driving the Soul Taker upwards.

The blade sliced through the creature's jaw, bursting out the top of its skull.

For a moment, the White Walker stood frozen, its eyes wide with shock. Then it crumpled, its weapon clattering to the ground.

Northern spun, being alerted already to the movement on his left.

Two White Walkers charged (already upon him), their weapons raised high.

Using Shunpo, Northern disappeared from where he was standing, instantaneously appeared right in front of them when they were still on the way to their onslaught.

It was frightening; the White Walkers didn't even have the time to react.

He swung his sword up and met the first one's strike mid-air; the clash of metal on metal rang out and sparks flew as the blades bounced against each other.

Using that momentum, Northern pushed forward, throwing his opponent off balance.

In the split second it took for the White Walker to regain its footing, Northern had already moved. The Soul Taker flashed, and the creature's head rolled across the blood-stained snow.

The second White Walker—having managed to redirect its attack while Northern was dealing with the first—was upon him now.

It swung a massive mace, the spiked head whistling as it cut through the air.

Northern sidestepped, feeling the rush of wind as the weapon passed inches from his face. He could see each individual spike, crusted with frozen blood and bits of flesh.

Northern's counter was swift and merciless.

The Soul Taker found solace within the White Walker's hard flesh, sliding in with sickening ease.

The creature let out a gurgling cry as Northern twisted the blade, severing its spine.

As the body fell, Northern's eyes widened in that moment, his double eyes separating from each other.

Quickly, he dropped to one knee, narrowly avoiding a spear thrust that would have impaled him through the back.

The White Walker wielding it snarled, its pale face contorted with rage.

Northern suddenly vanished out of its view, leaving the White Walker disoriented and confused.

Then suddenly, the White Walker felt its entire body shiver—like a demon plunging out of the abyss. His hand shot out from behind, grabbing the shaft of the weapon.

With a sharp tug, he pulled the White Walker off balance.

As it stumbled forward, Northern brought the Soul Taker up in a vicious arc.

The blade bit deep, cleaving through armor and flesh alike.

The White Walker's torso split open, spilling its innards onto the frozen ground.

The stench of death and decay filled the air, but Northern had no time to process it.

More were coming.

He could see them emerging from the shadows of nearby buildings, their eyes glowing with an eerie blue light.

Northern's muscles screamed in protest as he raised the Soul Taker once more, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

As he posed to strike, a mighty shockwave, one that caused the entire landscape to tremble tremendously.

Northern and even the incoming White Walkers froze; Northern slowly turned his head back to the mountain behind the palace.

His brows creased into a frown and he muttered:

"Raven…"

A strange restlessness invaded him the moment he thought about what could be happening there.

That was, after all, the heart of the disaster, and Raven was there alone, dealing with it.

He had to get to her somehow, but first, he had to deal with these ones before him.

Regaining themselves after the shockwave was gone, the White Walkers continued their charge, a particularly large White Walker plunged forward, faster than the others and wielding a massive two-handed sword.

This was the first time Northern had seen a White Walker wielding a sword.

He met its charge head-on, their blades meeting in a shower of sparks. The impact sent shockwaves up Northern's arms, but he held firm.

They exchanged blows, each strike precise and deadly. Swinging across the air in crude and flashing lines of arcs.

Northern could feel the raw power behind each of the White Walker's swings. It was like fighting a force of nature, relentless and unyielding.

But it was not the only one with a relentless and unyielding force. Every brim of his muscles screamed in protest, but Northern bit down on the pain and endured.

Tiredness was beginning to set in, and this was the worst possible time. But Northern understood that it was bound to happen.

That didn't mean he'd just let it though—considering that right now, in fact, was the best moment to put Chaos footwork to vivid use—he was fighting an opponent one-on-

one for more than a minute.

They exchanged more strikes, but the White Walker left no openings; he had to create one by himself.

Getting an idea of what to do, Northern's eyes ignited with azure flames; quickly, he shot forward and feinted left, then spun right.

The White Walker, caught off guard by the sudden change in direction, left its flank exposed.

Northern seized the opportunity, driving the Soul Taker deep into the creature's side.

The White Walker howled, a sound that sent chills down Northern's spine.

It thrashed, trying to dislodge the blade, but Northern held on.

With a grunt of effort, he pushed deeper, feeling the sword pierce through to the other side.

As the life faded from the White Walker's eyes, Northern wrenched his sword free. Thê sourc𝗲 of this conte/nt n/o/v/(𝒆l)bi((n))

He barely had time to catch his breath before the next wave was upon him.

Three White Walkers attacked in unison, their weapons forming a deadly web of steel.

Northern's world narrowed to a series of flashes and impacts; however, Chaos Eyes in collision with the attribute of his new talent attribute: [Way Of The Wind] managed to rearrange each sequence, slowed and synchronized to the speed his brain could process.

He parried one blow, ducked another, and narrowly avoided a third that would have taken his head off and staggered back a little because of the imbalance the urgency of his reaction and the tons of information that entered into his head all at once caused.

He lashed out with a kick, catching one of the White Walkers in the knee with the metal boot of Night Terror Armor.

There was a sickening crunch as the joint gave way.

As the creature stumbled, Northern capitalized on the opening.

The Soul Taker flashed once, twice, three times.

Each strike found its mark with deadly precision.

The White Walker fell, its body nearly cut to ribbons.

The other two pressed their attack, trying to overwhelm Northern with sheer force.

He backpedaled, attempting to flash out of their view; however, his feet slid on the blood-slick ground, which neutralized his use of the Shunpo Ability immediately. For a moment, he teetered on the edge of losing his balance.

But then muscle memory kicked in. Northern's body moved on its own, guided by countless hours of battle in the Kingdom of Red Mine.

He twisted, using the momentum of his near-fall to add power to his strike.

The Soul Taker sang as it cut through the air, finding the gap between one White Walker's horns over its face to its chest.

There was a spray of violet blood as the blade cut diagonally through the monster.

The last White Walker, seeing its companions fall, hesitated for a split second.

It was all the opening Northern needed.

He lunged forward, driving the Soul Taker straight through the creature's throat.

The White Walker's eyes widened in shock, its mouth opening in a stifled and gurgling scream.

Northern met its gaze, watching as the eerie blue light in its eyes flickered and died.

As he pulled his sword free, Northern became aware of a momentary lull in the battle.

He stood amidst a sea of fallen White Walkers, their bodies scattered around him like broken dolls.

But there was no time for rest. In the distance, he could see more approaching.

Their pale forms moved through the shadows, weapons glinting in the dim light.

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[A/N]

I enjoyed writing this chapter. Lol.

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