I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 452: The Will Of A Thousand Souls

As if the Kirithon could understand Northern’s words, the waves began to rise. This time, they looked less like tentacles and more like waves.

The entire sea looked like it was slowly rising above the normal level, as if it were swelling.

Northern showed no fear and instead stood carefree on Aerisyles, with his hands behind his back, even as the creature soared high into the blue sky that was slowly becoming tumultuous.

The sea roared with a fury that shook the very heavens. Its once tranquil expanse was now a churning maelstrom of dark, frothing water, imbued with an unsettling sentience. It lashed out with violent intent, as if it were a beast, wounded and vengeful.

From the roiling depths, colossal waves reared up like living walls, their crests crowned with frothy, jagged teeth.

They surged upwards, propelled by the sea’s newfound wrath, and Aerisyles arched in mid-air, narrowly avoiding the first wave’s crushing force.

The sea’s anger was tangible, a seething, liquid rage that seemed to pulse with its own malevolent heartbeat.

Northern’s blue eyes, sharp and steely, scanned the chaos below.

Tentacles—glistening and sinuous—emerged from beneath the surface, whipping and coiling with a predatory grace.

Each tentacle, larger than Aerisyles itself, lashed out with unrestrained fury, leaving trails of foam and destruction in their wake.

They lashed toward Northern like serpents, aiming to ensnare both rider and beast.

Northern swung his hand backward; before even swinging back, his weapon had started its materialization. As he swung forward, the Soul Taker slashed the tentacles that lunged towards him.

The upper half burst back into the ocean, but almost immediately, the tentacle regenerated.

’Of course, it’s useless fighting water,’ Northern grimaced.

The soul summon dipped and swerved, its wings beating furiously against the gale-force winds. Northern aimed at another tentacle that swiftly swung towards him.

With a powerful swing, he slashed the Soul Taker toward the slithering appendage.

The sword cut through the air, trailing a streak of shimmering light, and struck the tentacle with a resonant crack.

The creature recoiled, the tentacle thrashing wildly before retreating beneath the surface.

Northern, for a second, looked at the weapon in his hands, marveling.

’Amazing, really amazing,’ Northern mused, glaring delightfully at the Soul Taker.

The Soul Taker was essentially a weapon that dealt damage to the soul of its target. Of course, Northern had not forgotten the usefulness of the sword.

He just might have abandoned it despite its use because of Grengar. However, his decision to use it was because he figured he needed something that could deal damage other than physical damage.

And the Soul Taker was a perfect weapon for his need. Although he hadn’t actually expected that the weapon was going to cleave the body of water like that.

Looking at Soul Taker again made him feel like he had missed something impressive about this wonderful sword.

He grinned and clenched the handle of the sword even more tightly.

Northern’s thoughts were momentarily lost in the mesmerizing glow of the Soul Taker, but the immediate threat brought him back to focus.

The sea, relentless in its anger, had not ceased its assault.

The tentacles were reforming and surging once more, their gnarled forms breaking through the surface with an almost sentient malice.

The swirling waters below seemed to pulse in time with the sea’s wrath, each wave a testament to its living fury.

Aerisyles, its leathery wings straining against the wind, swooped and veered with a grace that defied the chaos. Northern, perched atop the wyvern, adjusted his stance and drew a deep breath.

He subtly infused the sword with his void essence, causing the Soul Taker to thrum with latent power, a force that seemed to resonate with the very essence of the conflict.

And in that moment, Northern felt like he was making a new discovery. He could feel the weapon’s will—not just one will, however; he could feel the difficult, malicious, and evil intent of the weapon itself, like a thousand others. It almost felt burdensome even.

’The soul of the fallen cries, they will stop at no point until nothing is left.’

At a time like this, Northern’s mind remembered the strange description of the weapon.

And it made him feel like perhaps Soul Taker did not just cut souls, but also absorbed them.

Because he could now vividly feel all those wills through his essence, the sword suddenly felt so heavy.

A colossal wave surged up from the depths, its crest a towering wall of dark water.

Northern’s eyes narrowed as he took a break from his thoughts. He scanned for the pattern in the chaos.

He knew that the sea’s attack was not random; it was strategic, driven by the Kirithon’s intelligence. And it didn’t matter whether it was Apex or Disaster, a monster would always be a monster.

So there definitely had to be a pattern. Plus, it might have changed body; Northern was damn sure the Kirithon should be way weaker than before. He had fought it twice before already.

The only thing that bothered him was how exactly the monster had managed to keep coming back to him. And him in particular.

As the wave approached, Northern raised the Soul Taker high, feeling its weight shift with a purpose.

The blade’s shimmering edge caught the fleeting rays of sunlight that pierced through the storm clouds, casting a fleeting reflection across the tumultuous sea.

With a swift, decisive movement, he brought the sword down, cutting through the wave with a clean, almost graceful motion.

The water parted under the sword’s influence again. If Northern had doubted before, he was sure that the sword did not just deal soul damage; it took physical damage to the extreme.

It felt like the cries of souls in the sword wouldn’t stop until they had torn apart every single thing in that entity. Then it suddenly made more sense why Soul Taker dealt soul damage.

Northern smiled.

But even as the wave diminished, the sea’s response was immediate, so he didn’t really have much time to relish. From the gaps in the water, new tentacles emerged, more aggressive and numerous than before.

The Kirithon seemed to be adapting, learning from each of Northern’s attacks. It was an unsettling realization—this monster was not ready to stop until it had Northern.