I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 829: Chalice And Breeches

Northern sat composed, carefully bringing a spoonful of rice to his mouth as the Kejar scion let loose an annoyingly pleasant laugh.

Finally, the young man's pearly laughter slowed, tapering off into short, breathy giggles. He lowered his head onto the table for a moment, trying to catch his breath.

"Oh, oh, oh—really. You're quite funny! That was so unexpected in many ways."

He chuckled a bit more before continuing.

"And what was that? Not that kind of person? You haven't really come out of the closet yet? Your phrasing is difficult to piece together!"

His chuckling receded into an amused sigh.

"And I wasn't even talking about liking you in that way. Oh, dear stars, you have it all completely wrong. I don't roll that way. In fact, I have a childish crush I've refused to get over—even ten years later. Quite unbelievable for someone of my caliber, right?"

Northern spared him a glance, idly chewing his food, then looked away.

'Not quite.'

Kaelan sat upright, exuding a casual coolness. He looked—smashable, in more places than just his face. Despite his odd skin tone, Northern had to admit he was flawlessly handsome. His smile was particularly dangerous, making girls trip—literally—right onto their faces, falling headfirst into a well of infatuation.

But beneath that resplendent visage, Northern saw something else. A child.

One that clung to childhood promises, memories, and longing.

'What a strange guy.'

If he were the one blessed with such unfairly perfect features, he'd be pulling girls by the dozens.

Well—granted, most of them would be below his age range, and he had a million other things to do besides wasting time on emotions.

'What things?'

…Like defeating Rughsbourgh, for example.

Northern nodded to himself.

'Right. I do have a million things to do.'

Kaelan, meanwhile, leaned in closer, tilting his head with a teasing glint in his eyes.

"So, you happen to say… you're more likely to like my sister, but since she's built like a rod—rather featureless—you find no interest in her."

He tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"That would mean you're a man who fancies overflowing chalices and massive breeches."

Northern almost choked on his food. He coughed violently, reaching for his cup and downing the rest of his water in one desperate gulp.

If not for the fact that he had read daily newsletters religiously as a child, those words wouldn't have registered so vividly in his mind—with such sharp imagery and precision.

Now, he felt a little embarrassed. But he suppressed the feeling and fixed Kaelan with a serious gaze before things spiraled out of hand.

"Aren't scions of nobility such as yourself usually neatly taught?"

Kaelan looked at him for a second before throwing his head back with a short laugh.

"Bah! Scions of nobility, neatly taught? I'm afraid I must disappoint you. Scions of nobility have so much privilege that they tend to turn out rather… promiscuous. Sometimes, too promiscuous."

Northern tilted his head slightly.

That actually made a lot of sense. He had always assumed nobles were relentlessly trained—given access to every resource imaginable—preparing them for the sheer difficulty of surviving rifts.

But he had failed to consider the sheer pomp of those who lived in the lap of luxury.

The ones who took all their privileges for granted, indulging in stupidity simply because they could.

'Easy... it's just human nature. Why am I acting like they're out here killing each other?'

No matter how promiscuous they were, it was none of his concern.

Still, it was a bit irritating.

'Even in my past life, I only experienced such a thing on my wedding night. And even then, it was short-lived…'

He paused, frowning.

'Although my wife at the time did claim I put it in the wrong place…'

Remembering how treacherous that said wife had turned out to be, Northern suddenly doubted her words entirely.

He shook his head, pushing away the desperate urge to piece together the fragmented, vague memory. Some things were better left forgotten.

Meanwhile, Kaelan leaned in again, eyes gleaming with the zeal of a deranged prophet.

"Rian, my good and tragically misguided friend, you are wasting your youth in the worst way imaginable."

Northern barely glanced up from his meal. "I don't recall asking for a sermon…"

Kaelan ignored him, already mid-ramble.

"You claim you're not interested in my sister because, in your words, she's 'built like a rod'—featureless, an empty scroll yet to be penned upon by the grand calligraphy of womanhood."

Northern sighed. "I never said it like that."

Kaelan waved his hand dismissively. "The essence remains. Which leads me to my point: You, my dear Rian, require a woman of substance."

Northern stopped chewing, now mildly wary. "I reallt hope you won't elaborate on that."

Kaelan smirked.

"Oh, but I must! You see, a woman with an overflowing chalice is a woman who carries the generosity of the stars within her very form. The constellations, in their boundless wisdom, have sculpted such women with abundance—an excess of beauty, a divine curvature that defies mortal engineering! Do you not see? These are women imbued with divine physics, a gravitational force that demands reverence."

Northern put his spoon down. "Are you… suggesting big boobs are the will of the stars?"

Kaelan gasped, scandalized.

"Suggesting? No, I am declaring! Why else do poets compare them to moons? Why speak of 'pillows of paradise'? Even history agrees—do you think conquerors fought wars for mere territory? No, my friend, they sought the chalices."

Northern massaged his temples. "That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

Kaelan wasn't finished.

"And let's not forget the massive breeches! Have you ever seen a woman with hips so wide they look like they could carry the burdens of an empire? Those, Northern, are pillars of civilization! A woman with the right proportions can shift the very balance of power—do you think it's a coincidence that history's most cunning queens were also sculpted like embodiment of effeminate stars?"

Northern exhaled slowly. "So, in summary… you're telling me the fate of nations has been decided by big tits and wide hips?"

Kaelan nodded gravely. "Yes. And you, my friend, are spitting in the face of destiny by refusing them."

Northern stared at him, completely deadpan.

"I train every day to kill rift-born abominations, and this is the battle you want me to fight?"

Kaelan grinned. "Hey! Don't underestimate the gravity of this. It is important! It is destiny! A battle of willpower, my friend. I saw your level of strength in the contest—you have the power to accept this gift of nature. So tell me… will you embrace it? Or will you remain an unplucked fruit upon the barren tree of loneliness?"

Northern picked up his bottle and took a long, slow sip, contemplating the chain of decisions that had led him to this moment. Then, finally, he sighed.

"I should've just slept in Lithia."

Power Ranking Monthly #35

Mar 21, 02:00 - Apr 1, 01:00

Mass release 10 chapters