I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 997: The Force of Will [part 3]

Pulling the monster felt like dragging the weight of ten worlds. But it hadn’t started that way.

At first, it moved.

Just a few feet. Then a few more.

The entire Academy shuddered. Statues toppled. The upper floors of the main tower cracked and slid, bowing to some unseen giant. Trees far from the battleground bent sideways, and distant waters sloshed against gravity’s pull.

Northern let out a roar that wasn’t human.

It was something ancient—something primal. Something that didn’t care what lay crushed beneath its feet.

The sky darkened as clouds swirled into a whirlpool above him, caught in the orbit of his Will.

And the Leviathan moved again.

A full body-length this time. Then two.

The monster growled—more irritated than pained—but its limbs splayed awkwardly, unable to find purchase. It tried to rise, only to be dragged forward once more.

Northern’s hands began to bleed. The chains wrapped around his arms started cracking, but that wasn’t the real problem. The cracks were still small, and the chain remained strong enough to bear the strain as long as the monster kept moving.

But then it stopped.

Northern felt it again.

The use of Will.

Now that he was paying attention, he could feel it clearly—it rippled against the world like oil in water. Something that shouldn’t exist, yet so obvious that anyone could sense it if they bothered to look.

Northern suspected even a Master might feel it, though they wouldn’t understand what it was. The only reason he could recognize it was because he knew Will’s true nature. From the Behemoth, from witnessing Raizel’s soul world, he had learned to understand this raw force.

So he recognized it the moment he focused.

The Leviathan had issued a command. A command powerful enough to bend reality itself. A command that severed movement.

And for a moment, movement became impossible.

Even Northern couldn’t push forward. No matter how hard he strained, his legs skidded along the same path, moving without advancing.

That was what broke the chain.

The first crack was small—so tiny it could have been a trick of light.

But the second echoed like thunder.

Then the entire chain glowed white-hot, as if fighting against reality itself.

And shattered.

The chain’s destruction triggered a backlash so violent it launched Northern skyward like a cannonball. The wall beneath his feet exploded outward in a storm of stone and steel.

Chunks of academy wall rained down like meteors. The air cracked. The sky split open.

Northern tumbled through the air, flipping wildly. His lacerated arms streamed blood that misted behind him. Sparks from the broken chain still clung to his wrists like glowing spirits, slowly fading.

He hit a dome of wind he’d conjured by instinct, landing hard and skidding to a stop.

Smoke curled from his shoulders.

He coughed, barely able to lift his head, and glared at the Leviathan still pulling itself upright beyond the shattered wall.

Despite everything... the beast remained unscathed.

But the light in its eyes had changed—burning fiercer now. That eerie calm was gone. Even though it seemed as indestructible as before, it finally looked like the monster it was.

And that gave Northern hope.

For a moment, he’d almost believed he was fighting something else wearing a monster’s skin. Something far more cunning and sinister. But now he was certain—it was just a beast.

That thought rekindled something inside him.

”Oh well, shall we then.”

Northern summoned a mighty gale and blasted into the distance, becoming a blur. He soared over the wall, conjuring another wind above himself to catapult downward.

But the Leviathan was ready this time. The monster raised its forelimbs and pushed upward.

High above, the clouds began to spiral, as if a storm was about to break.

Then pillars of crimson clouds began to fall. They crashed down in quick succession, crushing the earth with force that could rend and shred metal. But there was no effect.

Instead, from the depths of the crimson clouds, twisted, monstrous forms began to emerge—rolling forward with terrible speed, hunting everything in their path. The monsters came in different shapes, forms, and sizes.

As if all of them had been captured and corrupted.

’Corruption!’

The word spiked through Northern’s mind as he watched the monsters pour from the pillars—both the flying ones and the crawling ones.

Something about these creatures struck him with keen familiarity, reminding him of experiences he’d tried to forget.

Back when he was traveling to Lithia, there had always been something wrong with the monsters he fought. The fact that they were field monsters explained their strength well enough.

But there was something essentially wrong about them. Something that didn’t sit right. And now Northern felt that same wrongness—exactly as before. No, this time more vivid, more obvious.

And somehow, he could tell.

So much that he could only ask, with terror creeping across his face:

’The influence of the Crimson Cloud—just how far into the Central Plains has it reached?’

He had been undermining it all along, thinking it was just the dungeon beneath the academy. But in truth, the Crimson Cloud had existed for a long time—over two centuries, in fact.

What was to say that the entire Central Plains wasn’t already within such a monster’s grasp?

The thought sent chills racing down his spine.

Meanwhile, the corrupted monsters lashed out at people, lunging with crude, widened maws, tearing them apart and dragging them back into the pillars of crimson cloud.

For those who fought hard, more monsters rained doworcn on them, and it never got easier. Except for the fact that Annette was there.

Unlike the tentacles that had left her completely helpless, this was different. She was a force of fire on this battlefield, with an eerie red glow burning in the depths of one eye.

She moved cloaked in flames that burned with unforgiving intensity. Monsters scattered and thrashed in her wake, and people were saved.

But still, she wasn’t enough.

There was Vida. Her strikes tore through monster flesh and muscle. Though slower than Annette, she was just as efficient. Northern could almost see Annette’s echo in her—the way she moved with terrible strength.

Though she lacked Annette’s charismatic presence, she seemed foreboding and ominous instead. But she was a strong warrior.

Northern continued to observe. Something more about the crimson clouds unsettled him—the eeriness they made him feel, the fact that they seemed to hurt him faster than any blade would, despite his body being somewhat indestructible.

He exhaled and watched keenly.

’What could it be...’

He dove into his mind for a few seconds, his eyes never wavering from the clouds. Then the stark resemblance suddenly made sense.

Northern’s eyes widened first, then narrowed.

”Chaos?”