I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

'Huh? She stopped moving?'

Northern's interception had been swift, perhaps too swift—so fast that she hadn't even registered it properly. He had expected some kind of instinctual reaction, some frenzied movement the moment he stepped tightly into her space.

But instead, she froze.

Wide-eyed. Motionless. Hands suspended mid-air, not even attempting to maneuver her strike. She simply stared at him, blinking.

He didn't understand.

Then again, he had never truly understood women—not in this world, not even in his previous one.

Back then, he had been grateful that someone had loved him first, approached him first, married him first—so he never had to wrestle with the complexities of navigating the mind of a woman.

But of course, that person had turned out to be a liar. A cheater. A betrayal carved into his bones.

Everything he thought he had learned from her had long been discarded—burned to ash. He had come to believe they were nothing but falsehoods, spun by a foolish girl to manipulate his naïveté. And she had succeeded.

Even so…

'This situation needs to be handled.'

With Oblivion's Mark already activated, her abilities had been sealed. She had probably just felt the sudden change in her weight, the sharp drop in her speed.

Northern let out a quiet sigh and reached forward.

He grasped her wrist, slowly lowering her arm, keeping his touch controlled yet firm. His other hand shifted behind her lower back, steadying her in case she lost balance.

Still, no reaction. She was too frozen to resist.

His fingers brushed against the metal of her sanjiegun, and he gently pried it from her grip. The entire time, she remained utterly unmoving.

'I guess the fever is worse than I thought.'

He cast a brief glance at the weapon, admiring its craftsmanship before casually tossing it backward. Then, stepping away from her, he spoke in an even tone:

"I've sealed your abilities. You won't be able to use them. You can surrender now and leave, or I can knock you out and make this quicker."

He assumed that would be the end of it.

But Ayuri Miu… wasn't listening.

She couldn't hear anything.

Her world was exploding.

Not with fear. Not with panic. But with a blinding, euphoric detonation of dark stars. Beautiful, all-consuming, inescapable.

When he touched her hand, she had felt it—a tingling sensation that rippled through her body, declaring the arrival of her conqueror. Announcing the inevitability of her submission.

'Surrender?'

The word echoed in her mind, but the rest of his sentence was lost.

She did surrender. She had already surrendered!

And then—without a moment's hesitation—she blurted out:

"Of course! I would surrender to you!! Please, make good use of me!"

'…'

Northern stared at her.

His expression barely shifted, but internally, there was a distinct sensation of discomfort crawling along his spine.

The way her dark eyes gleamed—burned—with something fervent, something dangerous, struck an uneasy chord within him.

Somehow, he saw the shadow of a certain person lurking beneath that gaze.

And it made his skin crawl.

'Something feels off… Am I misunderstanding something?'

Northern stood there, sincerely perplexed as Ayuri Miu remained in front of him, staring at him in an oddly unsettling way.

The arena had fallen into a brief silence, as if everyone was waiting for something.

Then, he sighed.

"I guess I'll just knock her out."

That seemed like the easiest solution to dissolve whatever this was.

His figure vanished—reappearing behind her.

Ayuri Miu's eyes barely had time to widen before her body crumpled, collapsing instantly to the ground.

His hands had moved too fast for anyone to see, leaving not a single soul in the coliseum aware of what had just happened.

Northern turned to the announcer, who looked equally stunned. Still struggling to process the moment, the man quickly gathered himself and called out:

"The winner… The winner is… Rian Artemis Lael of the Non-Combative School!"

The moment the words left his mouth, the coliseum erupted into a thunderous roar of cheers, the fragmented announcement doing little to dampen the excitement.

Northern watched as the medics flowed in with practiced efficiency, seamlessly lifting Ayuri Miu onto a stretcher before carrying her away with the same smooth precision.

'I wish her a quick and safe recovery.'

Exhaling softly, he shifted his gaze to the next opponent already stepping onto the stage.

This one had blood-red hair—a deeper, more intense crimson compared to Lenn's. His expression carried a certain lightness, a perpetual smile playing at his lips.

He approached at a relaxed pace, hands stuffed into his pockets. Then, as he reached Northern, shards of luminant armor flickered into place over his body, assembling like pieces of glass catching the light.

Still smiling, he regarded Northern with an almost gentle admiration.

"Your might is overwhelming, really…"

His eyes flicked toward the audience. The crowd had gone eerily still, watching in anticipation.

"…I don't want to experience a humiliating defeat, so I'll give you my best attack. If it doesn't leave a scratch on you, then I'll just surrender."

Northern's eyes narrowed slightly.

'That's… strange.'

No one had ever proposed such an easy way out before.

Was the guy a coward? Or was he smart, someone who understood—or at least suspected—the sheer chasm that existed between their strength?

'Not my concern.'

In fact, this wasn't a bad deal. Northern wanted to wrap this up quickly anyway.

But…

Folding his arms across his chest, he smirked slightly, his eyes gleaming with quiet confidence.

"Don't you think that's a little unfair? Shouldn't it be the same for me?"

The red-haired boy raised an eyebrow.

Northern continued.

"You give me your best attack, and I give you mine. The one still standing at the end is the winner."

For a moment, the student seemed to consider it before shaking his head.

"No, no. It would've been unfair if you weren't as powerful as you are. But yesterday already proved to all of us that you're like… an impregnable wall."

He chuckled dryly, shaking his head again.

"We dreaded the idea of fighting you. Strangely, Miu was enthusiastic about it, but that's none of my business." He exhaled. "What I am saying is—we're all scared shitless of you. So, save us some public disgrace, okay?"

Northern averted his gaze for a moment, scratching his cheek awkwardly.

He sighed.

"Then let's do it this way instead…"

The red-haired student's eyes lifted expectantly.

Northern spoke evenly.

"I'll hit you with my weakest attack. If you're still standing, I'll surrender. It'll be my first official loss."

The student visibly brightened. His eyes widened, excitement flashing in them like a glint of red steel.

"Oh? Oh! That's so generous of you!!"

A wide grin stretched across his face—a little too wide.

His eyes gleamed with something just a little bit… off.

Dark.

Calculating.

'Hehehe… I never expected him to fall for it… I'm such a genius.'