Chapter 578: What A Migraine!
Northern stared down.
"Right. This."
He hadn't forgotten, but had not kept in mind, that the system Copycat gained another Unique ability called DIY.
The ability was just something that happened because of Chaos and Void.
It explained that any abilities he copied would undergo subtle changes to suit the nature of Chaos and Void.
The real boon of the unique ability was when those copied talents became owned talents. They took on different natures and routes to growth entirely.
Neglecting the so-called culture of soul rank growth that he had known and embracing stark unpredictability.
Seeing this now made Northern's heart leap with joy. But something still bothered him. He squinted his eyes at the floating panel for a minute, suspicion oozing from his gaze.
Ryan approached him, fatigue etched upon his face, his breath ragged with heavy pants raising and dropping his shoulders.
"I didn't need your help," Ryan frowned.
Northern looked at him, his expression becoming bleak. He examined him from top to bottom and then bottom to top before replying.
"I didn't come here to help you, I came to steal something from you."
"Steal something from me?" Ryan repeated in confusion.
"Oh right. I want to ask, do you mind telling me how many items you got from this raid?"
Ryan looked at him tentatively, lingering before he inquired.
"Why would you ask that? Did you not receive yours?"
Northern raised two fingers.
"I received just two."
Ryan's eyes immediately widened. "What? That's impossible."
Northern nodded. "Yes, it is. The ratio of items I received has drastically dropped since I was in the dark continent."
Ryan folded his arms, eyes growing distant as his awareness dove into his thoughts for a moment.
He looked at Northern again, his eyes hinting at disbelief-but why would Northern lie to him?
He sighed and shook his head.
"Well, that's sad. I received about fifteen or so items." His eyes observed Northern with a glare as he continued, "I guess it's not far-fetched; there has to be a kind of punishment for the immense strength that you have. I can't imagine someone like you having the power of items-that would just be straight-up crazy."
Northern shrugged. "I am flattered, boy."
"Don't call me boy," Ryan retorted angrily.
"You should ease yourself up and take as much time to rest; this might be the least dangerous battle in this rift."
He was about to turn away but suddenly turned back, tapping his temple with a finger as he remembered something.
"Oh right, right. Do you happen to know a renowned blacksmith? I'm talking about an incredible blacksmith known throughout the entire continent, if possible the world."
Ryan tilted his head for a moment, several thoughts running through his mind at Northern's question.
"Well, there are a few, but I hear that none of them compare to the Northerners."
"The Northerners?"
"Yes, the Northern continent. Blacksmiths there have been the only ones to be successful in creating an item. That means their work fell under the same gratification of items Ul blesses us with when we slay monsters. Every renowned blacksmith in Central Plains is just known for the effectiveness of their mundane and mediocre items."
"Hmmm," Northern rubbed his chin as Ryan's words sank in. He looked at the gentle and pale boy before him with a good smile.
"Thank you, boy."
"Do not call me boy!" Ryan growled.
But Northern turned away, waving his hands and said:
"You should get some rest; we will depart in an hour or two."
"Who are you to call that shot?"
Lieutenant Dante and the others were walking toward him and Ryan.
Everyone looked toughened up, beaten and battered, but no one seemed to be in perilous danger.
"I didn't call any shot. I was talking to Ryan. I leave in an hour or two- I might be strong but I need to rest too, and pick up all these soul cores. It's okay for you guys to go... if you can go on without me, that is..."
Northern's gaze, like an insidious and cunning snake, crawled into the Lieutenant's soul, faintly emitting defiance.
Lieutenant Dante was suddenly speechless. He cleared his throat and looked away.
"Indeed, we have to pick up the soul cores. Rest and see if we can progress in strength by absorbing them before approaching the inner depths of the rift."
Dante said, looking around at the fallen corpses that littered the ground.
"Yes. But please, we are only picking cores that we each killed. I'll pick the other side, while you face your side."
Lieutenant Dante raised a brow.
"Hey now, is that how selfish you are? Won't you need any help?"
Northern shut his eyes and forced a smile.
"No sir. I. Won't. Need. Any..."
The Lieutenant looked at him in silence and shook his head pitifully.
"That's quite a character flaw you have there. No one will take your fragments. Get help."
"No."
Northern's reply was stalwart.
It made the Lieutenant back off.
"Suit yourself then."
Ryan looked at Northern and then at Dante; he sighed and broke out his voice.
"He has clones that can do it for him."
Lieutenant Dante frowned, surprise etching wearily on his face.
He shifted his focus to Ryan.
"What do you mean?"
Ryan shrugged helplessly.
"It's what you heard he has clones that can help him do his things. Many clones at that."
"But I thought that black tentacles thing that comes out of your body is your talent ability,"
Dante voiced, his tone tinged with growing shock.
Northern looked at him uninterested, not responding at all.
Ryan shook his head painfully and said:
"Trying to understand him is like trying to understand migraine. The more you think about it,
the more it spreads. It's easier to just accept and move on."
The Paragon stared, life flowing out of his face.
'What is this? Does he have two talents? How does he have a cloning ability and have the black
tendrils too? Or are they linking from the same talent?'
Confusion made its nest in the Paragon's mind. He continued to stare at Northern-who turned away and left to start picking cores-with trembling eyes.