I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 783: The Blockade

As the massive Beast of Burden rumbled across the open expanse, carving a path beside the wide river, Northern soared overhead, scanning the terrain for potential dangers.

He wasn’t disappointed. As he had suspected, threats lurked in every direction. However, none of them seemed eager to make the first move. The Beast of Burden was in constant motion, and the predators watching from the shadows did not appear to be in a hurry to rend their flesh.

The immediate danger had already been dealt with—a Catastrophic Maelstrom, an entity so massive it could rival mountains, had lumbered toward them. Half of its grotesque form was encased in writhing tentacles, which propelled it forward with unnatural speed.

It hadn’t posed much of a challenge.

With a brief exchange of strikes, and using Echo sparingly, Northern had erased the creature into nothingness.

More good news: his summons had finally cleared the twentieth floor guardian and retreated to the Limitless Void.

The battle had taken a heavy toll, especially on the humans. Continuing further would have been suicide—or so Bairan had described it.

Only the twentieth floor, yet all of his Void summons had been left utterly drained.

The realization of the dungeon’s true depth and power was beginning to dawn on Northern. More than ever, he wanted to uncover its secrets.

But despite combing through the vast archives during his brief stay at the library, he had found nothing on its origins.

The only relevant information was tied to the history of the academy itself—the vision of Milhwa, who had sought to create a safe haven for Drifters, a sanctuary where they could cultivate their strength and push the limits of their potential through unity and cooperation.

Milhwa had involved two of his friends in the endeavor. But history was silent on one of them—his records had been erased. The only name that remained was Professor Heimburger.

Strangely, none of the books explicitly linked Heimburger to Milhwa. Yet, Annette and the entire academy just knew.

It wasn’t an openly discussed fact, nor was it ever acknowledged outright. It was an unspoken truth that everyone carried but never voiced.

And the question that lingered in the minds of many was—how was Heimburger still alive?

Among the three, he had been the only mundane human. By all logic, he should have perished long ago.

Perhaps the truth was only known to a select few.

But Northern had a gut feeling—one he couldn’t quite justify yet—that Professor Heimburger’s seemingly unnatural longevity was intricately tied to the existence of the dungeon itself.

And where knowledge was buried, Northern was determined to dig.

However, all of that would have to wait—the academy, the student council presidency, the pursuit of hidden truths.

For now, he had surveillance to conduct.

As Roma and the cohort of travelers pressed forward atop the Beast of Burden, Northern dominated the skies, serving as their aerial scout. Hovering above, he kept a watchful eye on the monsters lurking in the forest’s depths and the creatures prowling along the far edges of the open expanse.

From his vantage point, he spotted something unusual—a dot on the horizon, large enough to fill the center island nestled between the river’s parting currents.

The river split around the landmass, flowing on either side like a natural barrier, enclosing it within a seeming sanctuary.

At its heart, tall brick walls loomed, fortifying the settlement. The defenses were taller on the riverside, where the threat of an assault from the water seemed more imminent. A seaport stood at the river’s edge.

But something was wrong.

The ports were empty. The ships—gone. Not a single vessel remained.

Northern narrowed his gaze.

Activating Chaos Eyes, he pushed his vision beyond the constraints of distance.

And then he saw it—the ships had been dragged beneath the river’s surface. Their shattered hulls lay submerged in the deeper waters, now a graveyard of wreckage.

Abominations circled the ruins.

The water rippled—not in one place, but across countless points.

A disturbance too vast to ignore.

All of a sudden, Northern pivoted midair and descended swiftly, landing on the broad back of the Beast of Burden.

A small frown creased his face.

Roma, noticing the change in his demeanor, studied him for a few moments before speaking—her voice hesitant, cautious.

”What’s wrong?”

There was a weight in the air, a gravity that pressed down on them. Her tone instinctively matched the severity of his expression.

Northern lingered in silence, his gaze distant, as if threading together fragmented thoughts. Then, after a few beats, he finally turned to her, his eyes narrowing.

”I think I might have figured out what the blockade is.”

His voice carried the unmistakable weight of revelation.

Roma stiffened.

”What do you think it’s about?”

Northern didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned his attention outward, sweeping a slow, deliberate gaze across their surroundings. Then, he pointed toward the dense line of trees.

”Monsters in that direction.”

He shifted, gesturing behind them.

”Monsters in that direction.”

Finally, his eyes settled on the river.

”Even the waters are filled with them.”

A shadow fell across his face.

”Lithia is trapped in the middle of it all.”

The words settled into the air like a cold weight, sinking deep into Roma’s chest. Her breath hitched, and her eyes slowly widened as realization dawned.

”Oh my stars... the blockade... it’s monsters.”

Her voice was almost a whisper, tinged with disbelief.

”I thought it was something much more mundane—like the river itself. I suspected the harsh winter winds, maybe an impassable snowstorm. But as we crossed the forest and I saw no sign of a blizzard, I became confused. I failed to see what was right in front of me... the monsters.”

Northern studied her and nodded.

”It’s understandable. Anyone would have thought the same.” His gaze held steady. ”But consider something—what if I wasn’t here? Would it have been possible to reach Lithia at all?”

Roma fell silent.

It was a fair question. In another context, it might have sounded arrogant. But with the sheer gravity of the moment, the stark truth behind his words was undeniable.

Roma’s response was measured, her voice even.

”No, I don’t think so.”

Northern nodded.

”And that’s the most terrifying part.” His gaze darkened. ”Entering or exiting this blockade should have been impossible. To be honest, I’m... different. Even among Drifters.”

He exhaled sharply, eyes flickering with reflection.

”And still, I ran into monsters that were... unnervingly difficult to deal with. I can’t guarantee that any other Sage would have survived this. I’m just built differently.”

He paused.

Roma’s expression shifted, and Northern caught the look in her eyes. Clearing his throat, he added quickly:

”This isn’t me boasting. It’s just the blunt, unfiltered truth.”

Another pause. A sigh.

”Everything is... coming together. The strange behavior of the monsters. The way they lurk at the edges, barely attacking. It’s too calculated.”

His voice lowered.

”This is deliberate.”

Roma’s frown deepened, her features tightening.

”What? That’s—that’s insane! You’re saying this is intentional? That someone—someone out there—has the power to control this many monsters and make them act in unison? That’s impossible.”

A tremor ran through her frame, disbelief weighing her down. The sheer scale of it—the implications—it was too much to process.

Even for the Drifters.

A feminine voice cut in.

”The lady is right. Such a thing shouldn’t be possible. No one has ever heard of monsters being controlled like this.”

Northern turned his gaze to them, expression unreadable. Then, with an indifferent shrug, he simply said:

”We live in a world where the concept of impossibility is fragile. I, myself, am proof of that fragility.”

His eyes drifted forward. Arms folding across his chest, he fell silent.

But in his mind, the pieces were beginning to align.

And the answer was... disturbing.

Somehow, all of this tied back to the revolting government.

And no matter how much he tried to suppress it, one name kept clawing its way into his thoughts.

’That damn lieutenant... Just what exactly is he up to?’