I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 1265: The Grand Archive

The news shook Roma to her core. Even as they walked forward, she was still processing it—Northern could see it in the way her gaze kept drifting, her steps slightly uneven.

They reached a massive set of doors—ancient wood bound with metal that had oxidized into patterns like frozen lightning. Runes covered every surface, glowing faintly with residual essence that pulsed in slow, deliberate rhythms. The light reminded Northern of a heartbeat. Something alive, waiting.

Roma placed her hand against a specific sigil. The doors groaned open, revealing darkness beyond.

”Welcome to the Grand Archives,” she said quietly.

Northern stepped through the doorway. Essence crystals flickered to life automatically, spreading in waves that revealed the true scope of the space before him.

The Grand Archives weren’t just large.

They were impossible.

The chamber stretched upward for what had to be hundreds of feet—maybe more. Northern couldn’t see the ceiling clearly even with the essence lighting, just shadows layered on shadows until the darkness swallowed everything. Shelves lined the walls in ascending tiers, connected by staircases and bridges and platforms that seemed to defy reasonable architectural planning. Some sections jutted out at odd angles. Others spiraled inward. A few appeared to be carved directly into the mountain face, creating alcoves and grottos filled with yet more volumes.

And the books themselves—

There were thousands of them. Tens of thousands. Possibly more. They filled every available surface, stacked on shelves, piled on tables, organized in systems that probably made sense to someone but looked utterly chaotic to Northern’s eyes. The smell hit him next—old paper, leather, dust, and something faintly metallic. Centuries of accumulated knowledge, all compressed into one space.

’This is going to take forever.’

”Everything Ryugan has ever recorded is in here,” Roma said, her voice echoing strangely in the vast space. ”Histories, treaties, military assessments, personal journals, trade records, mining surveys, monster catalogues...” She paused, gesturing broadly. ”And not just our own records. We’ve collected knowledge from across the continent for centuries. Purchased archives from fallen kingdoms. Copied texts from traveling scholars. Salvaged histories from rifts.”

Northern was already moving deeper into the space, his analytical mind trying to process the sheer volume of information contained here. Every shelf represented months of reading. Every alcove, years. The scope was staggering—and somewhere in all of it was exactly what he needed.

”Where do I even start?” he muttered.

Roma moved to a central desk where several thick ledgers sat, their spines cracked with age and frequent use. ”These are the indices. Organized by topic, time period, and source.” She opened one, dust motes swirling in the crystal light. ”What specifically are you looking for?”

Northern thought about that carefully.

’The Empire. My father. Military capabilities. Political structure. Weaknesses.’

But he couldn’t be that direct. Not yet. Roma was an ally, but some questions would raise others he wasn’t ready to answer.

”Everything,” he said finally. ”I need context. History. Patterns. The Empire didn’t become what it is overnight—there’s a progression. A methodology. And somewhere in all of this—” he gestured at the Archives ”—there’s information that will tell me how they think. How they operate. The might of their army.”

Roma looked at him with something between concern and fascination. ”That could take weeks. Months, even.”

”Then I’d better get started.”

Northern walked to an open area near the center of the Archives. Closed his eyes. Drew on his essence.

[You’re using True Clone]

The activation was smooth. Practiced. Ten perfect copies of himself materialized in the space around him, each one sharing his memories, his knowledge, his purpose. They looked at each other briefly—a moment of synchronized understanding—then scattered without a word.

Roma gasped softly. ”Ah...”

Northern watched her expression shift from shock to something more measured. She’d recovered quickly—faster than most would.

”Talent ability,” Northern said simply. ”I’m not sure you’ve seen this one. Have you?”

She shook her head, but there was calculation in her eyes now. Filing this information away.

He glanced at her. ”This is the most efficient way to process large amounts of information quickly.”

The clones were already climbing ladders, pulling books from shelves, settling into reading positions across multiple levels of the Archives. Northern himself moved toward a section marked with symbols he recognized as historical records.

”This is...” Roma trailed off, watching as ten Northerns simultaneously began researching. ”This is incredible.”

”It’s practical,” Northern corrected, already pulling volumes from a shelf. The leather was cool against his fingers, the binding surprisingly intact despite its age. ”Now—you should probably go. Check on your father, help with defensive preparations. I’ll be here for a while.”

Roma hesitated. ”Are you sure you don’t need—”

”I’m fine.” Northern opened the first book without looking at her. ”Really. This is what I’m good at.”

She lingered another moment, then nodded slowly. ”I’ll... check on you later. Make sure you haven’t been buried by falling books.”

Northern made a noncommittal sound, already absorbed in the text before him.

Roma’s footsteps echoed away. The doors closed with a heavy thud.

And Northern was alone with his clones and centuries of accumulated knowledge.

’Finally.’

There was so much he was looking forward to discovering here today—minerals, crafting techniques, military formations, trade routes. All of it useful. All of it valuable. But those were secondary objectives, bonuses stacked on top of what he actually needed.

His main concern remained: whether he could finish reading everything in time.

Suddenly, Northern had an idea. He narrowed his eyes and leaned away from the book.

’Aoi.’

[Yes.]

’Is it possible to copy this entire library and all the books and put them in Soul Forge?’

[Technically, yes. You can copy the books as physical objects—Shingan can analyze their structure and Daemon of Form can store those blueprints, just as you copied sand. However, this would be functionally useless for your current purpose.]

Northern frowned.

’Explain.’

[When you copy an inanimate object, you gain its physical form—structure, material composition, properties. If you copied a book, you would gain the ability to transform into that book or summon book Echoes. What you would NOT gain is the information written inside it.]

’The knowledge isn’t part of the form.’

[Correct. The text is surface-level inscription, not intrinsic to the object’s essence or structure. A book’s ”form” is paper, binding, and ink arranged in a specific configuration—but the meaning of the words is interpretive information, not physical property. Copying a dragon gives you its fire breath because that ability is biological. Copying a book gives you... paper and ink.]

Northern absorbed that. It made sense, even if it was inconvenient. ’And storing them physically in Soul Forge?’

[Your Soul Forge is currently Level 2 of 10—optimized for storing and organizing Forms and Echoes as combat assets. It is not yet developed as general-purpose dimensional storage. The 70km² space is structured around training with copied forms, not warehousing physical objects. That functionality may emerge at higher mastery levels when the forge evolves into a more complex environment.]

Northern glanced at his clones, already processing hundreds of pages across multiple floors. ’So reading is still the most efficient method.’

[By several orders of magnitude. Your ten clones with perfect memory retention will absorb and retain the information content—which is what you actually need. Copying the books would give you the ability to become literature, which serves no tactical purpose.]

’Good enough.’

He dove back into the text, and let the knowledge consume him.