I Can Copy And Evolve Talents - Chapter 1197: You Are Prey
Chapter 1197: You Are Prey
“The third option. Let’s psychologically mess them up. I can see plenty of uses for this ability. Can I designate targets? Not just me, but other people of my choosing?”
[Yes]
[However, this will involve merging more than one ability, which will cost you essence]
’Let’s see it first…’
[SOUL SYNCHRONIZATION + FATE’S NEEDLE + SOUL STRING + REMORSE]
[The Mechanism]:
[Soul String (from SOUL THREAD) – Attach an invisible thread to your chosen target (the one you want enemies to attack)]
[Soul Synchronization (from ONE’S TRUE SELF) – Link your soul with your clone, but after you became a Daemon of Form, this has been enhanced, allowing you to link your soul to anything while bearing equal amounts of risk and benefits]
[Fate’s Needle (from SOUL THREAD) – Pierce the enemy with a soul thread to manipulate their movements/decisions like a puppet]
[Remorse (from FULL IMPACT) – Force the psychological compulsion, but instead of guilt for attacking you, channel it through the soul link to compel them to attack the designated target]
[How it’s supposed to work in practice]
[You create a soul network: You → Enemy (synchronized) → Designated Target (soul string). Through Soul Synchronization, you share the “awareness” of the designated target. Through Fate’s Needle, you puppet their focus and intent. Through Soul String’s connection, you make the designated target feel like the “inevitable” or “necessary” target. The enemy becomes psychologically/spiritually compelled to attack whoever you’ve marked with Soul String]
[For additional versatility, Gossamer Domain (SOUL THREAD) could amplify this by creating a 100-meter web of soul threads. Mark multiple targets. Control which enemies attack which designated targets. Essentially become a battlefield puppeteer, directing aggro like a tactical commander]
Northern’s lips curled.
“And this new soup… what should we call it?”
[Puppeteer’s Malice]
[Do you want to weave these abilities together?]
Northern straightened, his gaze drifting to the wall.
“Of course.”
[You have woven five talent abilities—SOUL SYNCHRONIZATION + FATE’S NEEDLE + SOUL STRING + REMORSE + GOSSAMER DOMAIN—into one: PUPPETEER’S MALICE]
[You’re using Talent Weave: Puppeteer’s Malice]
The pressure around Northern thickened, became suffocating. Northern watched with mild interest.
The first decisive blow would be simple: shatter their cohesion. Break the swarm.
The walls of webs trembled. The first wave struck without warning.
Hatchlings—each the size of a large dog—poured from crevices in the web-wrapped structures. Their carapaces clicked against stone as hundreds of legs carried them forward in a chittering tide. Their eyes glowed crimson, reflecting the ambient light.
[You’re using Wind Manipulation]
Northern raised one hand. A violent gust ripped through the passage, slamming hatchlings against walls and ceiling, the wind itself slicing through them. Carapaces cracked. Bodies crumpled. More kept coming, climbing over their fallen to reach him.
[You have slain 43 Hazardous Fiends]
[You have gained 43 talent fragments]
He walked forward, unbothered by the swarm. Each step created a localized wind current that deflected the small spiders. Desperate and enraged, they tried to latch onto his legs, his coat, anything—but the constant air pressure kept them at bay.
[You’re using Ignis Dominus]
Fire bloomed across the webbing. The crimson strands ignited, flames racing along the interconnected network. Hatchlings shrieked as they burned. The calcified trees groaned, heating rapidly.
But the web didn’t collapse. Instead, new strands formed almost as quickly as the old ones burned, repairing the damage with impossible speed.
[Essence Manifestation detected: The Crimson Weave is self-repairing]
“Of course it is.”
The temperature spiked. Northern felt heat wash over him from ahead—not from his flames, but from something else. Something massive moving through the catacomb depths.
The larger spiders arrived.
Web Stalkers—human-sized arachnids with elongated limbs—descended from the canopy above. They moved with predatory grace, coordinating their approach. One lunged from Northern’s blind spot.
[You’re using Eclipse Step]
Northern vanished. The Web Stalker struck empty air, momentum carrying it forward. Northern reappeared behind it, hand outstretched.
[You’re using Erasure Touch]
The black mark spread across the spider’s carapace. It convulsed, abilities failing, then collapsed.
[You have slain 1 Disastrous Savage]
[You have gained 2 talent fragments]
But seventeen more Web Stalkers had positioned themselves during that exchange. They attacked simultaneously from eight different angles—a coordinated strike designed to overwhelm even experienced combatants.
[You’re using Reversal]
The attacks reversed mid-strike. Seventeen spiders slammed into each other, fangs and legs tangling in chaos. Before they could recover, Northern gestured.
[You’re using Lightning Chains]
A single bolt struck the nearest spider. The electricity jumped, arcing between all seventeen tangled bodies. They spasmed, charred, and fell.
[You have slain 17 Disastrous Savages]
[You have gained 34 talent fragments]
The swarm tactics shifted. The hatchlings stopped their mindless charge, spreading out to flank. The Web Stalkers hung back, waiting. They were learning. Adapting.
Then the webbing itself moved.
Strands shot toward Northern from every direction—not thrown, but animated by the Crimson Weave’s will. They sought to entangle, to bind, to drain.
[You’re using Phase Strike]
Northern’s body became semi-intangible. The webbing passed through him harmlessly. But the moment he solidified, more strands converged.
[Warning: Essence drain effect intensifying]
The air itself had become hostile. Every breath pulled essence from his lungs. Every step bled power into the hungry webs beneath his feet.
Northern stopped. His eyes fixed on the ceiling, a frown creasing his features.
Just as Aoi said, he could feel himself losing essence faster than he spent it to fight.
“Draining essence faster than I’m spending it. Smart.”
His eyes tracked movement in the shadows.
“But you’re still just buying time.”
[You’re using Heart of Winter]
The temperature plummeted. Frost spread from Northern as epicenter, racing across webs, up calcified trees, along the catacomb walls. The self-repairing webbing slowed, ice interfering with its regeneration.
Hatchlings froze mid-charge. Web Stalkers retreated from the expanding cold. But before Northern could press the advantage, the temperature spiked again.
Heat rolled through the passage like a furnace blast. The ice melted. The webs steamed. And through that steam came something far larger.
Bear-sized spiders with armored carapaces and mandibles like industrial shears—Blood Hunters. A dozen of them emerged from side passages, moving with terrifying speed despite their bulk.
[You’re using Soul String]
Invisible threads shot from Northern’s fingers, latching onto the nearest Hunter. He yanked. The spider flew toward him against its will. Northern’s hand met its head.
[You’re using Absolute Lock]
The spider froze completely—not physically, but conceptually. Its ability to move, to attack, to even think was sealed. It hung in the air, a statue of chitin and rage.
The other Hunters didn’t slow. They swarmed from all sides, coordinating perfectly. One feinted left while two attacked from above. The remainder circled to cut off escape routes.
[You’re using One Strike]
Northern’s fist blurred. All his accumulated power compressed into a single punch that struck the lead Hunter’s carapace. The impact propagated through its entire body. Chitin cracked. Internal organs ruptured. The force transmitted through the floor, creating a shockwave that staggered the circling Hunters.
[You have slain 1 Calamitous Beast]
[You have slain 3 Calamitous Beasts – collateral damage]
[You have gained 24 talent fragments]
Eight Hunters remained. They didn’t retreat. Instead, their abdomens began to glow—a deep, pulsing crimson that intensified with each heartbeat.
[Warning: Explosive web deployment detected]
They launched themselves at Northern simultaneously, abdomens swelling to bursting.
[You’re using Wind Embrace]
The wind caught Northern, lifting him off the ground just as the Hunters detonated. Eight simultaneous explosions of burning web and shrapnel filled the passage. The calcified trees shattered. The ceiling cracked. The floor cratered.
Northern floated above the carnage, untouched.
But the explosions had revealed something. Through the smoke and falling debris, Northern sensed the passage ahead open into a vast chamber. And within that chamber, illuminated by thousands of glowing webs, was the Broodmother.
She was colossal. Forty meters of chitinous horror, with legs that could crush buildings and eyes that burned like molten metal. The pulsing of her abdomen synchronized with the breathing of the entire web network.
She’d been aware of him since he entered her territory. This had all been calculated—the swarm, the tactics, the explosive finale. All of it carefully orchestrated, until her minions suddenly lost their composure.
And that must have tipped her off, wrong, hence the relentless conflagration of attacks.
The Broodmother’s mandibles clicked. A sound that resonated through the webs, through the stone, through Northern’s bones. It wasn’t speech, but the meaning was clear:
You are prey.
