I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 1359  The Fragility of Humanity

“I give you every opportunity to fight me, to beat me, and this is what you do with it?” Northern looked down at the captain, arms folded loosely across his chest. “Throw fires that don’t burn my way?”

He scoffed. “You want to burn away my essence and stamina, is that it?” Northern smiled wryly at him. “Are you prepared to be at this for a couple of days? Because let me tell you something, aside from the fact that I can easily dispel your mark on me, I can also continue to fight you at great cost of my essence and stamina and still not be depleted after a full day.”

He tilted his head, studying the captain the way one might study an insect pinned to a board. “But truth be told, I do not, sincerely, I truly do not need half my strength to take care of you.”

He stood straight, looking at the man with a blank expression.

“I’m sure someone like you has already figured out that I’m a Paragon. You’re a Sage, which frankly speaking is beneath me. But I need to make you understand that, which is why I am doing this. Try everything you have been taught and try to beat me. Do not worry, I’ll heal you and send you back home. No matter what, after all, I need you to tell them of your experience today.”

Captain Colak’s jaw hung crooked on his face. His left eye had swollen shut, and the skin around it had turned the color of rotting fruit. What remained of his expression was fear, naked and uncontrolled.

Every ounce of what he had left was going into keeping himself upright. He strengthened his body with a tumultuous amount of essence, his pool draining at a rate that would leave him hollow within the hour. He also had to keep moving, had to cross swords with Northern, although his sword had not even clashed with the young man’s in the past few minutes. It was safe to say he had just been running around aimlessly.

Colak searched for words to describe the man’s speed. He could find none. Northern was simply too fast. One moment, Colak was certain the young man was standing right there in front of him. The next, he had vanished and was behind Colak’s back, tapping him lightly forward just as he was about to slash down on what he had been convinced was the real one.

The young man was also playful, to a point where Colak didn’t understand if he even took this seriously.

His punches, though. Colak hated them.

His face right now was nothing like the handsome middle-aged man who had walked into this dark forest. It was a map of bruises and broken things. He had lost several teeth, and his jaw and cheekbone had been dislocated more than once, popped out of place and shoved roughly back. And it was always from a punch. Never a blade, never essence. Just a fist, as if Colak were not even worth the effort of drawing a weapon against.

And nothing insulted him more than the way Northern would say: “Oh, oh, oh shit, I didn’t mean to. I guess I need to reduce my strength again. You guys really are fragile.”

In all his life, Colak had never met an enemy that used that word with him.

‘Me… fragile?’

It infuriated him. But it was true. Right now, he was breaking under the punches of this strange person, his bones giving way like wet wood. If he was not fragile, he didn’t know what else he was.

Colak was a practical and realistic person. He knew how to accept his weakness quickly and start working on himself rather than drowning in denial.

Which was why he accepted the fact that he was utterly useless before this young man. There was nothing he could do. Not a single thing.

He stood there with his swollen face, both hands wrapped around the hilt of his sword, holding it out in front of him. His grip was failing by the second. His hands shook. His legs shook.

Despite how he tried to tame the fear that ravaged his entire being, his body betrayed him. His arms trembled so badly that the blade wavered in the air between them. But he did not drop his sword.

Northern stared at this for a couple of seconds. He looked into the captain’s one remaining good eye, then brought his hands together and began to clap. Slow, deliberate claps that echoed through the dark forest.

From the captain’s point of view, he looked demented.

But that was exactly what Northern was going for. To be painted as crazy, insane, a monster. The Empire was known for their fearlessness, their might, their unshakeable confidence in their monarch and their leaders. Northern intended to crack that confidence at its foundation.

He had worked out a project of fear, a long-term investment in terror. He wanted the creatures of the Empire to fear him, from this moment forward, so much more than they respected his father. He thought about the long haul, about the Empire he wanted to build. When they eventually discovered he was also a prince of the Empire, many would find relief and be thankful that this monster was on their side. When his nation started to take shape, people would fear him and revere him in equal measure.

This was not to say Northern would rather rule with fear than love. When it came to his enemies, though, fear was the sharper tool. As for friends…

Northern felt like he still had so much to learn when it came to that subject. He really knew nothing about love. How to express it, how to manage it. If anything, the whole concept seemed bothersome to him.

So, so bothersome.

He shoved the thought away and focused on his friend here.

Northern opened his hand and a thin branch grew from his palm, pushing through the skin like something alive and searching. Scarce leaves unfurled along its length. It extended outward and birthed a red fruit at its tip, almost resembling an apple, its skin smooth and faintly warm.

He plucked the fruit free and immediately the stem thinned and withered, the leaves aging in seconds, turning yellow, then brown, then crumbling to dust. But the fruit remained, whole and ripe in his hand.

He held it out to Colak. “Here. It’ll heal you.”

The man stared at the fruit, then at Northern’s face. Doubt and something close to dread sat heavy in his one open eye.

Northern shrugged.

“Well, if you want to keep going like this, I certainly don’t mind. I have no problems breaking you until you become a living corpse.”

The man hesitated, his cracked lips parting. “What… what happens after it heals me?”

Northern grinned. “I’ve gotta break you a few times over and then heal you again, for you to be able to deliver the message properly. Don’t you think?”

The man paled.

Northern pushed the fruit closer to him. “Here, here. Take a bite. You’ll realize it works like magic.”