I Can Copy And Evolve Talents - Chapter 1384 The Perception of Fear
Chapter 1384 The Perception of Fear
Northern stood before Judgment, who abruptly halted the moment she saw him appear out of nowhere.
Jerimoth stopped too, settling into a cautious stance while Judgment grunted with irritation. Even through bloody eyes, she was glaring at Northern with the kind of hostility most people reserved for mortal enemies.
Northern looked at her blankly, said nothing, then turned to Jerimoth.
“Your talent… what are the chances that it may be applicable to the body? Like, could you mark your own body and reduce your weight, increase it, control it more precisely? I think that could affect your combat power significantly.”
Jerimoth was confused for a moment.
‘Why have I never thought about that?’
There were several reasons he could think of, actually, one being the fact that his talent was only a Class A talent. It was impressive and all, but it had its limits.
Trying to mark himself would simply go against the rules. But he couldn’t even say for sure, because it wasn’t like he knew what rules governed every class to begin with. No one had ever handed him a manual.
Northern continued to stare at him, waiting. Then he just shrugged.
“Well, I guess I’ll just find out.”
Jerimoth’s eyes widened.
‘What does he mean?’
Northern stared down at his own hand, opened it, then gripped it shut. He held it there for a moment, testing something only he could perceive.
“It seemed like that’s not possible. Well, that makes sense. I guess it’ll be when I become a Luminary.”
By then it would become an Owned talent and he could simply make it EX Class and reap all the benefits. The thought of it was almost enough to make him impatient, but Northern had learned a long time ago that impatience was the enemy of good decisions.
He was slightly skeptical about what to copy because he didn’t want to use up his slots before he entered Reimgard or met his brothers and sisters.
Or any astounding warrior.
Right now, he had five out of eight. Which meant he had just three slots left for whatever wondrous talent he was going to encounter in Reimgard and beyond. Three slots. That was not a lot of room for the kind of journey he was about to undertake.
‘I might have to focus on becoming a Luminary soon.’
Northern simply couldn’t think of passing up on all those good talent deals. That would in fact be very irresponsible of him. And whatever else Northern was, he was not irresponsible when it came to collecting power.
Jerimoth, meanwhile, stood cautiously before Northern, watching the young man and gauging everything he did.
To him, Northern did not look like much of anything. A boy of barely his early twenties, carelessly standing in the midst of a gruesome battle as if the blood and noise around him were no more interesting than weather. Jerimoth was still wary, though, because of the pressure that had arrived with Northern himself.
That initial weight had been undeniable. Heavy enough to make his instincts scream.
But now the pressure was gone, and all that remained was the boy.
Meanwhile, Judgment was burning.
“Don’t you dare think of interrupting me. I have this under control. I swear I’ll win.”
Northern stared at her blankly. He didn’t believe a word of it.
If Judgment was given more time, sure, she could potentially win. But winning her first major battle against a seasoned combatant was a stretch that even her monstrous confidence couldn’t close.
Yes, the strange girl had violence in her. That was the point of her entire voyage with Northern. But that raw spirit of violence was not going to be enough to defeat the young man standing on his other side. Jerimoth was skilled at battle. He had mastered his talent well. But more importantly, he was experienced. He had fought hundreds of opponents, possibly thousands, while this was Judgment’s first real fight.
Northern exhaled.
“A very important part of the art of battle is knowing when you cannot win, Judgment, and acknowledging your opponent’s strength over your own.”
Judgment looked at him with an expression that mixed disgust and genuine shock, as though he had just spoken the most offensive words in any language.
“Me? No one! I repeat, no one is stronger than Judgment!”
She paused and quickly added:
“Of course… it’s only a matter of time before I surpass you yourself. But any other person is beneath me!”
Northern rubbed his face, suppressing the urge to smack her head and crush it into the ground. He had to be careful not to break her, after all. That was always the difficult part with Judgment. The line between discipline and destruction was thinner than she realized.
Jerimoth straightened.
“I’ve had enough of your chit chat… if you’re not going to take her out of the battlefield, then excuse yourself and let me finish her myself.”
Northern’s brows furrowed slightly, and he turned to Jerimoth.
In that moment, the young man was not sure what happened to him. What he knew for certain was that the world went black.
Pitch black… he suddenly felt like he was standing in the eye of an endless darkness that predated the world itself.
He felt fear.
No. Felt was an understatement of how deeply this emotion became a part of him.
He was fear.
He understood fear.
He knew fear.
And it broke his will.
Jerimoth’s hand trembled beneath Northern’s gaze. His weapon slipped from fingers that no longer obeyed him and clattered against the ground. His eyes were frozen wide, trembling subtly, locked on something that Northern’s face had shown him. Something behind the face… something vast.
Judgment, who had been standing beside Northern and saw her opponent crumble the moment Northern’s gaze fell on him, was confused.
She glared at Northern on Jerimoth’s behalf.
“What did you do to him?! I told you he was mine!”
Northern himself tilted his head.
“I am as curious as you are… what did he see.”
Many times, weaker beings were incapable of perceiving the true gap of strength between themselves and a far stronger opponent. To see that gap accurately was not a matter of skill. It was simply perception. One could be a powerful Sage and still have very poor perception, and one could be a mere Master and possess an astounding one.
Northern was sure Jerimoth had seen something. Something that instantly informed him how foolish his decision to challenge the person standing before him truly was.
And it seemed Jerimoth had been frozen by that realization. Locked in place by knowledge his body refused to process.
Northern was slightly jealous of it.
He wished to be able to experience fear on the level that Jerimoth currently was. Even when fighting Kryos, he hadn’t truly felt fear. What he felt was exhilaration. The thrill of collision, the satisfaction of being pushed. Never the helplessness.
But now, there was no one who could give him that. No one who could make the world go black for him. All they could do was receive.
Northern sighed, the sound carrying a weight that had nothing to do with the battle around him, and turned away.
He walked towards Judgment, grabbed her by the collar of her armor, and no matter how much she thrashed and snarled, he just lifted her and walked towards the fight between Commander Zebelon and Jeci.
