I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 1026: A Sword King Without A Sword

Raven was lost in thought when she suddenly flinched and frowned.

Helena and Annette seemed to be discussing something else; Vida stood behind them. None of them sensed anything until Raven suddenly flinched.

Then they turned to the left, and there he was. A man with long white hair and flowing garments that blended the fashion of some strange, unknown era with eastern continental style.

He stood casually, one hand tucked inside his robes. He moved his hand to scratch his cheek briefly before waving at them.

“Hello.”

Raven grimaced darkly, slowly unclenching her fists.

All of them were on guard—Helena, Annette, and Vida. The strange aura radiating from the man’s presence wouldn’t let them relax.

His entire composure left no openings. His stance was casual, yet all of them couldn’t help but feel trapped in a web of blades where one wrong move could cost their lives.

Bairan smiled at them first, then slowly shifted his gaze toward Raven, who knelt on the ground beside Northern.

Raven stared back, showing no fear in her eyes. In fact, her crimson eyes burned dangerously. But her body language betrayed complete hesitation.

Bairan kept smiling.

He inhaled slowly and exhaled. Then smiled even wider.

“The very reason I exist is to destroy you.”

Raven’s frown deepened.

“Who are you? Why would you want to destroy me?”

Bairan unleashed a mad grin.

“I am Bairan, and he created me to destroy you.”

Raven glanced back at Northern, who was lost in the deep abyss of rest. She turned back to Bairan.

“I understand why Northern would want to destroy me, but creating you… it’s impossible. Creation is impossible for a mortal.”

Bairan chuckled darkly.

“Oh, you child. You don’t even know him at all. If I were to name him a King, I’d call him the King of Impossibilities. He has just one job, and it’s to do the impossible. Did you not just witness it yourself?”

Raven fell silent. She looked at Northern and looked down. It was almost difficult to accept the reality the man was speaking about Northern, yet just as he said, she had witnessed Northern fight at a level that left her mouth agape.

His speed, his strikes, the way he defied the very laws of reality. Those were not things mortals should be able to do.

Why was Northern able to do them?

He had grown stronger, certainly. But just how much stronger had he become?

Raven had a broad mind. She saw great potential in people and could usually gauge each person’s capability to reach that potential. Whether it was the potential for greatness or the potential for wretchedness, it was always a choice.

For those she loved and favored, she always ensured they reached their potential for greatness, even if she had to be the villain in their story.

It was the only thing that fulfilled her. She had lived a cruel life until this moment. No amount of hatred could move her.

She had been killed more times than she could count by her own siblings simply because she existed. And had to survive simply to die again, yet her own father never spared her a glance.

There was no suffering, no hatred, that she hadn’t endured before the age of ten.

So it was easy for her to be the villain in people’s stories. She didn’t mind as long as they lived up to their potential—that was her comfort.

However, she wouldn’t lie that she always envisioned a peak. And no one had managed to surprise her by breaking through that peak.

However, thinking back on the little she had seen of Northern’s power made her realize… Northern might be more than she had thought.

Of course, she didn’t even know that this was merely a fraction of Northern’s power.

Before this battle, the poor guy had been terribly spent.

No drifter would have been able to fight under the conditions Northern fought and still win.

No one would have been able to endure what he endured and still live.

There was no one—not any of them standing here today and beyond.

And they knew. At least Helena knew, Annette knew, Vida knew. None of them expected that Northern would still be able to fight Rughsbourgh after having to deal with that abominable Leviathan.

But he rose to the occasion without being asked.

Northern was a hero. A true one. Of course, he would puke at the word. But they knew. He was the savior the world needed.

And maybe Raven realizing that he was the only person who could help her was also her way of admitting to a shred of that truth.

Of course, when it came to Raven, she still had a thousand more shocks and surprises to endure before fully realizing the extent of how much Northern had grown.

Bairan exhaled, cutting Raven from her reverie.

“So… the way this is supposed to go is, I draw my sword and cut you down in one strike.”

Raven stared back with a guarded expression. She looked ready to fight… or to be fair, to defend her life.

“However… I don’t have a sword.”

Bairan looked down and clicked his teeth in regret.

“Some bastard took mine and somehow managed to use it against me. Crazy, I know, and as a Sword King, that was very careless of me. Say… would you be willing to lend me a sword to slay you?”

Raven looked at him warily, her gaze calm despite being heavily vigilant.

“I don’t have a spare.”

Bairan exhaled.

“That settles it then. I’m just gonna have to tell my master when he wakes up that I tried to kill you but I had no sword in my hands. I’ll wait for him to wake up and forge me a sword or something.”

Bairan chuckled lightly.

“Do you know he recently learned how to forge, and oh good stars, he’s already so good at it. He’s gonna forge an entire forgery even.”

Raven frowned, confused.

“How does one… forge… a forgery?”

Bairan shrugged.

“How would I know… I’m not much of a blacksmith. In fact, I hate to touch charred and dirty things.”

He looked over to the rest.

“Well, as it turns out like this… would it be okay if I take charge in my master’s stead? I am his second in command after all.”

All of them looked at each other, unable to respond to him. Funnily, Bairan didn’t even need to ask—the air was already dominated by him. And if he was willing to help them anyway, without having to hold a sword, his presence alone had spoken for his capability.

He stepped forward and bent down, then he touched Northern. Immediately, the body began to disappear.

Before any of them could speak, Bairan’s commanding and authoritative voice broke forth.

“Fear not. He’s merely where he loves to be.”

He looked at the rest of them.

“Now… this is what we will do.”