I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 867 867: Give Me My Hands Back!



Something was strange and different about the monster, but Paragon Raizel cared little about that. The only thing that mattered was shredding it apart, whatever it tried to do.

His hand never left the creature's neck, even as it tore its borrowed hands away.

Paragon Raizel escalated the damage. He conjured a terrifying shockwave just above the creature, causing the air to release its crushing weight. The ground caved beneath them, the monster sinking as if pounded by an invisible hammer.

The Paragon then unleashed his Ephemeral ability, which elevated his movements beyond the laws of physics. He needed no momentum buildup to generate devastating force; all he needed was to swing.

When he added his Vagrant ability to the mix, he increased the speed of his attack with each subsequent strike.

He built momentum with every consequent blow, not from zero but from what seemed like peak human potential, shattering limits with each movement. Like a storm gathering strength until it became a hurricane.

Each blow exploded with torrents of wind that blasted through walls, crumbling them to dust. He pinned the monster in place, preventing it from escaping while continuously inflicting damage.

All with an unsettling green light blazing in the dark depths of his visor.

The creature finally managed to wrench away the rebellioua borrowed hand but remained trapped in the Paragon's blade fist, its neck caught in that cutting chokehold.

Yet that crooked grin somehow remained frozen on its devilish face, subtly unsettling the Paragon.

Raizel strengthened his fist and pushed it closer, raising his hand to crush the creature's eyes. But at that moment, something felt wrong.

He frowned and slowly turned to his right side.

The hand he had raised... was... no more?

Confusion darkened his eyes beneath the helmet. He glared, and the green light of his visor burned with vicious intensity.

The monster now wore his hand.

On its left was a blackened, charred hand—the last remaining of the three it had stolen. On its right side was the Paragon's own hand.

The creature looked unnatural with an alabaster-skinned hand merged to its blackened, charred body. It resembled a grotesque tapestry created by some cursed and forsaken weaver, human flesh and monstrous form intertwined in an unholy union.

The devilish monster grinned wider and moved its alabaster hand, seizing hold of the Paragon's armored own.

For the first time in his life, Paragon Raizel felt what it was like to be at the receiving end of the unforgiving and grueling cut of his own hand.

He had coated his entire body in momentum that charged his durability. But the sharpness of his fist had also been derived from that same momentum.

When the creature clutched his hand, a sharp, cruel pain lanced through bone and muscle, forcing him to stifle a groan.

Crimson blood surged out as he yanked his fist back and staggered away, his single remaining hand hanging limp.

He studied the monster's hand. The creature obviously hadn't torn his hand off—it had somehow absorbed it without the armored part. And his own right side looked as if it had never had a hand to begin with, leaving no space for it in the armor.

Raizel knew certain things about the powers these higher monsters wielded.

The truth was that just like humans, every monster possessed unique talents. In lower ranks, these talents remained dormant; in higher ranks, they became active. The higher the rank, the more pronounced these abilities became.

A Behemoth wielded power equal to that of a Paragon, able to bend nature to a certain extent.

What then could a Belial do, let alone a Devilish one? A creature that lurked far closer to the depths of all wrongness, lacking only one step from reaching the bottom of darkness.

'Rewriting concept?'

Raizel refused to believe it, except the truth lay bare before his eyes. The only explanation was that the concept of his hand had been rewritten.

Transferred to the creature as though Raizel had never possessed it.

'...that would be terrifying.'

Indeed it would be, if his suspicions proved true. Actually, they were, so it already was terrifying.

But there had to be a limit to what it could do.

'I suspect that using Breakneck Edge is the best it can manage.'

Breakneck Edge was the ability that allowed him to render his fist lethally sharp. Paragon Raizel suspected the monster could probably use only this ability because that was what the hand had access to.

It was impossible for it to harness all of his talents. Copying a person's talent was an inconceivable concept, because each talent was deeply rooted to the cores. Unless one could extract and absorb the essence of cores, they couldn't copy talents.

And even if they somehow managed to copy talents, they would need to be coreless to absorb the essence of cores—another impossibility, since a coreless person would be no different from a mundane human.

This knowledge formed the foundation of the laws that dictated the flow of the world. An unbendable rule.

So Raizel was sure.

The creature grinned ominously, opening and closing its fingers as it tested the stolen hand, like a musician becoming acquainted with a new instrument before a deadly performance.

Paragon Raizel observed the creature, preparing to unleash his full power. He had hesitated because he still needed to confront the Leviathan. Though he possessed vast reserves of essence as a Paragon, they weren't infinite. Using Essence Manifestation drained his reserves at an alarming rate, and he desperately hoped to avoid reaching that state.

Yet he had to continue fighting somehow. His only remaining hand was seriously injured and bleeding; he could barely control his wrist. But at the very least, he maintained a fragile command over the hand, no matter how damaged it was.

'We'll make something work with it.'

The Devilish Belial had already begun marching toward Paragon Raizel, its long legs and flat webbed feet crushing scattered wood splinters with casual disregard.

Then it suddenly stopped.

The creature's ugly face contorted into an expression of horror and disdain as it slowly turned its gaze downward.

A black, lustrous hand had erupted from the flaming darkness below, clutching the monster's leg with unrelenting force, refusing to release its grip.

Enhance your reading experience by removing ads for as low as $1!

Remove Ads From $1

Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.