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I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Here's the link to the discord server: https://discord.com/invite/XVNaUKEPmb The convolution of worlds are govern by a set of gods, each god is given a world to rule and there can be skirmishes between them – as a result of one between Nexus, the god of trickery and a senile old hag Elliot reincarnated into Ul’Tra-el by mistake. Ul’Tra-el is a world that grew a voice, because of this voice, it began to take a different path from other worlds -- it was filled with a core anomaly – rifts. Dimensions began to leak into each other, vomiting outrageous monsters. In response or as an auto-correction to such anomaly, talents were awakened in the inhabitants of Ul’Tra-el and they gained tremendous power, for every rift they close down, they were rewarded massively by the voice of the world called Ul. In a hardcore world like this one, our MC (Northern) reincarnated as a talentless individual but in the face of a death and a head splitting revelation... ...when all hopes seemed lost. {System Notice} Your Soul cannot take a form Searching for Unique pattern ability for your soul searching... search found. Unique System ability has been found... Unique System Ability [CopyCat] has been gained. Awakening Unique ability... Northern gained a talent copying system! ... Follow Northern through his journey as he becomes the pinnacle of this world. This a story about a white-haired boy’s rise from rubbles!!

RighteousFilth · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
298 Chs

Nonsense Deceit

A somber man walked into the office of a nearby building and sat down.

He placed his palm over his face as an exasperated sigh escaped his mouth.

Minutes later as he stared into oblivion mulling over what just happened, the door opened.

Another man, though older, walked into the office and sat down before him, a table separating both of them.

"It must not feel good, right?"

"What? Lying to a bunch of kids…" The officer raised his head to look the man in the eyes. "No, it did not feel even a bit good."

One thing he and the man had in common was the uniform they wore. It was more like a military uniform, but it was white, with black stripes running from the shoulder to the legs.

The man had a grim expression on his face as he bitterly twisted his mouth.

"I don't know what to say… As you already know, in this world, we are at the bottom of the food chain, we are meant to grovel at the mercy of the instructors and carry out whatever orders are given to us. That is the reality of our situation."

The officer bit his lip, then opened his mouth after a few seconds of silence.

"It's not even that…" He looked up at the man again, "Sir Fergo… something is fishy. I can smell it. I don't know why we were asked to lie to the kids or why they suddenly disappeared, but I can tell that something is wrong."

"And it will do us a hundred times better to pay no attention to it. Face your work, Oland."

Oland looked down and bit his lips in frustration once more.

"Damn!" He smacked his hand on the table.

Fergo simply watched him and shook his head, then he stood up a couple of seconds later, bid farewell, and left the office— leaving the young officer to drown in the regret of ever deciding to accept a job at the academy.

There were several ranks of profession in the academy. The lowest rank, Workers, were responsible for menial jobs such as cleaning.

'Officers' are a set of low-rank drifters that work with the protectors to preserve the security of the school, after them were the Junior Instructors, Senior instructors, Heads of department, administrators, the vice principal, and finally, the principal.

Fergo had wished to at least become a junior instructor, but because of his low-class talent and insufficient rift experience, he was unfit for the job.

Hence he had to settle for what he could get. To take care of his sickly mother and educate his sister in a common school, he became an officer.

So far the job had been rewarding, except for the times they were bullied by junior instructors.

Working with the protectors was a privilege, and if Oland had to put it into words, he'd say the junior instructors were just jealous of their privilege.

After all, a protector is an amazing rank with prestige; to leave one's life and family in order to protect the border of the continent is the highest level of service a man could give.

And service at such a level was respected and appreciated by all.

Oland had been struggling to survive in an environment like this, especially when the senior instructors would dump loads of shitty errands like this one on him.

He should have never been the one to pass this message, Oland knew.

Whatever it was the academy was planning, it was not of general knowledge, so there was no way he'd be asked to do it.

Usually, when it was related to the students, the academy kept it confidentially between instructors.

Oland was sure this was an act of disobedience.

Thinking about it, a strange fire began to burn in his chest.

He wanted to investigate the matter, see what it was about, and report it to the authorities. Even if it was to spite the instructor that had put him up to it.

Oland felt sorry for the entrants but what's done is done.

'Wherever you all are. I hope you survive…'

Under the crimson sky, the scorched earth was littered with mangled corpses.

Massive, beastly bodies with matted fur and savage claws lay slashed open, their entrails spilling out onto the muddy ground.

Among them were the shattered shells of colossal crabs, their legs twisted at unnatural angles and their shattered pincers still dripping with viscous fluids.

Northern's eyes fluttered open to a landscape of unimaginable carnage.

He found himself surrounded by the gruesome remnants of a brutal war between two monstrous species.

The air was choked with the metallic tang of blood and the sickly stench of rotting flesh.

Rivulets of dark, coagulated blood snaked through the turf, soaking the trampled grass.

Severed limbs and severed heads were strewn about like grotesque debris.

A heavy, oppressive silence engulfed the ravaged land. Flies swarmed over wounds, their droning wings amplifying the eerie stillness.

Northern's shocked breaths sounded deafening amidst the deathly quiet.

He gazed around, horrified and transfixed by the nightmarish vision before him. The sheer brutality on display was beyond comprehension.

What primal hatred, he wondered, could have fueled such ruthless carnage? How many lives had been mercilessly extinguished on this cursed plot of land?

Stumbling to his feet, Northern cast his eyes over the battlefield graveyard and shuddered at the harrowing sight…

A voice interrupted him… a different kind of voice, one that sounded familiar.

<You have entered a rift>

Northern frowned at the runes that appeared as the voice delivered its message.

"A rift?"

The officer had told them they had two weeks to prepare for a rift and all of a sudden they were transported into one.

'This is nonsense.'

Why bother lying… if they were going to send them into a rift why not just send them?

Was it to prevent students from protesting…?

But lying for such reasons seemed childish and unnecessary to Northern. Plus, that teleportation circle that he saw…

The light, he was sure, was the same kind of light that teleported him into the airship.

If so, was the former academy principal a part of this?

That line of thought seemed plausible to Northern. What had just happened bothered him a lot but there was something bigger on his mind.

He was in a rift.

With no solid knowledge or training on rift education whatsoever.

And no weapon.

He was also unaware of the tier of rift he was currently in!

And he had to survive somehow.

Faced with such reality… Northern's whole body began trembling.