I Can Copy And Evolve Talents - Chapter 1319 Let Me Educate You A Little Bit
Chapter 1319 Let Me Educate You A Little Bit
Gordon stood in front of the people. He hated it, but being the only Ascendant in the city right now, he had no choice.
After all, the only reason he’d stayed back was to be able to protect the city. The defense had been overwhelming with the numbers of those monsters from Rian, but suddenly all of them had vanished—all except the white beast that could grow in size.
In good light, there had been no trouble in the past few days. The people had slowly started rebuilding themselves and the city.
There was peace. And he had been enjoying it.
Until a thunderous sound split the air and he saw the walls separate from the top of the Citadel building.
Immediately, he leaped and came here. And here he was, standing before a strange man with ashen hair and grey eyes, radiating a level of power that drove fear into his heart like a spike.
The man was comparably as strong as the Empire’s princess—granted, she didn’t come off as cold or monstrous. This man, what the light in his eyes suggested… that was what truly scared the shit out of Gourdon.
Those eyes held nothing. Nothing at all.
He glanced back at the ripped-open walls, then focused on the strange man, speaking with commendable confidence.
“Who are you and what do you want?”
The man looked at him and tilted his head. He pointed at himself.
“Me? You don’t know me?”
Gourdon’s expression became even more wary.
“Am I supposed to?”
“Yes, of course!”
The man was standing next to him, leaning on his shoulder. A clean second passed before Gourdon noticed—and staggered back, his face pale, a fierce scowl bending his expression.
Rughsbourgh merely smiled. A teasing smile.
“Well, not that who I am matters anyway.” He shrugged. “I’m Rughsbourgh, and just to save your breath and pointless struggles, I’m a Luminary. I’m here to take that dead tree stump under the ground.”
Gourdon had already worn a fierce look from how Rughsbourgh had moved the last time, but the moment the man mentioned the stump under the ground, his face got dark and dangerous.
It was almost intimidating for a moment. If the person he was looking at hadn’t been Rughsbourgh, it sadly would’ve mattered.
“Kid. That look is disrespectful.”
“What do you mean you want that?” Gourdon’s voice hardened. “It’s not only the heart of the city’s mechanism—that stump is also what is miraculously helping the city from not collapsing inward despite the vast underground structure beneath. If you take it, the city will collapse with time. Hundreds of thousands of people will die.”
Rughsbourgh chuckled.
“Which I truly do not care about, since millions—if not billions—will be saved because of it. We can’t let ourselves think small, kid. If I don’t take it, even the thousands that don’t die now will still later die.”
Rughsbourgh clicked his tongue, an irritated expression crossing his face.
“This is common sense. Anyone should be able to comprehend this.”
Gourdon’s face was still scathingly dark.
“What are you even saying? What is the threat that disturbs the world? What would you even need it for? It’s dead.”
Rughsbourgh looked at Gourdon with a little shock—whether theatrical or genuine, one would never know.
“Dead?” He laughed. “Look at this kid, mocking the crafts of the mourgens. Weakened, sure. But that thing isn’t capable of death. It’s one of the amazing wonders of the world that didn’t make it to the paper because of its grotesquity. I’ll forgive you for uttering words without proper knowledge.”
Rughsbourgh inhaled.
“But let me educate you for a bit.” His tone shifted—still light, almost conversational, but with something ancient moving beneath it. “The mourgens had might like nothing this world had seen. They were considered the high humans, but could they truly be considered human? I guess it could work. Just like how there are elves and high elves, there are humans and high humans. High humans were the first in existence, and their extinction, in a way to put it, caused the existence of lower humans.”
He looked at himself and others with pure disgust.
“This… fragile, nonsensical excuse for a race.”
He smiled and continued.
“Look around you. Look at what humans have managed to build for themselves. Look at the wall, look at the academy—it may be in rubbles now, but it was a bespoke of the unending creativity of humanity. And let’s not even talk about the first civilization, the things they built, how it prospered. I guess none of you truly knew because it was all buried by your kings and ancestors.”
He clicked his tongue with palpable hatred.
“Look at what humans with fragile hands could make. And wonder—wonder what the high humans who could contest with giants in battles of strength, mine mountains with fists, and swim across the Northern Oceans must have built.” He shook his head. “All of you are so ignorant, and nothing pains me more than ignorant people. It’s pitiful to watch.”
He then sighed.
“Well. That’s none of my business. Move. I want to get the stump.”
Gourdon’s fist tightened, and Rughsbourgh observed it. The Trickster of the Red Threads visibly readied himself for what was to come.
“I ref—”
But it never came.
He was simply sliced and chopped into thousands of pieces. Blood splattered across everywhere as his body spilled apart and turned into a fountain of crimson and flesh.
Rughsbourgh looked at it with cold disgust.
“You know, it’s possible for the very space to get so sharp. I was wondering what happens when space can cut…” He tilted his head, considering the mess. “Guess now I know.”
He looked up at the people, that monstrous smile climbing his face.
“Oh well. Let’s not drag this out. Do you people feel inclined to let me pass, or do I just kill you all?” He spread his hands. “I mean, whether I do it or not, only death awaits you after all.”
Rughsbourgh suddenly glanced up and frowned.
‘The beast is gone…’
The next moment—unbelievably bypassing his senses with a speed that triggered one hated déjà vu—the wolf slammed into him and barreled away with him.
The earth quaked. Stone shards large enough to bury a man flew in all directions.
