I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 1254: Beautiful Reunion

The man looked at Northern with a sufficient amount of confusion.

“Uhm… ehnn, and who might you be in particular?”

Northern confidently held his gaze and shrugged.

“The one who shut down the party?”

The man paused, then narrowed his eyes at Northern. Afterwards, he suddenly broke into laughter.

“Oh! Ah! Party! You mean literal party! I almost thought you meant the events of Stelia for real. Imagine! Discussing an actual party. Boy, that’s not what I’m discussing with you at the moment. I mean, the—”

“I know.” Northern’s voice interrupted, cold and flat.

The Admiral paused and widened his eyes slightly, looking at Northern with a tinge of surprise. “You… do?”

Northern casually responded to him.

“The… antagonists… so to say, they’ve been taken care of. There would be no need for troops.” He paused, letting that sink in. “I mean, not like your soldiers would’ve been much help to begin with. They merely would’ve been an element of broadened use to the enemy.”

What Northern simply meant to say was that Kryos would have turned them to elements of madness and used them either as meat shields or just thrown them at him. All of them would’ve become obstacles in the end. Casualties he’d have to navigate around while trying to actually win.

“I took care of it,” Northern said confidently, still holding the Admiral’s eyes. “Did they not tell you that their friends were fighting it?”

The Admiral’s eyes stayed widened. He nodded slowly, processing. “Indeed… they might have…”

Northern nodded too—with a smile.

“I’m that friend. I finished early. Now, I came to pick up my friends.”

The man at this point was not wearing a friendly smile anymore. He wasn’t particularly wearing a frown, either. But his face was serious, frozen somewhere between surprise and disbelief.

“You… did?”

Northern nodded nonchalantly.

“Of course. How else would I have the time to come here?” He thought about his words, too. “Oh well, actually, I can still be here if I was fighting, but I’d rather conserve my essence against an enemy like that.”

Northern spoke with a light tone that sounded so contrasted against the tension in the air. And yet, somehow, it was adding to the tension. Each casual word seemed to make the Admiral more uneasy rather than less.

The Admiral now was not sure what to think. He didn’t want to believe Northern. But he couldn’t deny his eyes.

First of all, he had been trying to gauge Northern since he entered and couldn’t even fathom the depth. He was cautious of Northern because he could simply tell that Northern was strong.

But that tell came not from being able to successfully analyze Northern’s strength. It came from the experience of being around strong people. Truly strong people. And Northern’s presence had a very subtle way that it consumed the entire place in silence—the kind of quiet that preceded storms.

This was why he wasn’t throwing Northern’s words away as lies or anything like that.

He was an old Sage. Northern had to be an Ascendant at the very least. Which made all this terrifying about him.

’He looks so young.’

To be an Ascendant at such a young age shouldn’t be possible. Who knew the amount of resources his family poured into cultivating him. There was no way—he just had to be a spawn of a very rich nation. Some hidden lineage with deep pockets and deeper secrets.

The Admiral was caught in his head.

’Even though…’

Despite being an Ascendant, he didn’t think that was enough to beat a Tyrant. Not to speak of an Origin and the Chaos Prince. THE Chaos Prince!

’Those things are… not within our definition of what power should be.’

Yet, he couldn’t exactly ignore what Northern was saying. The confidence wasn’t bravado. It was too casual, too genuine. The kind of certainty that came from someone who knew exactly what they’d done and didn’t feel the need to embellish.

Northern stayed in silence but saw that this was truly not going anywhere. He exhaled and asked:

“Can you at least take me to my friends? You’ll be able to confirm whatever you want to that way.”

The Admiral studied Northern for another long moment, clearly weighing his options. Finally, he stood and replaced his beret, adjusting it with a practiced motion.

“Very well. I’ll take you to them myself.” He gestured toward the door. “They’re currently in the guest quarters. His Majesty insisted they be treated as honored allies, given the… gravity of their warning.”

Northern rose smoothly, noting the careful phrasing.

’Honored allies. Which means they’re being watched closely while being treated well. Smart.’

They exited the office, the Admiral leading the way through the bustling military floor. Personnel snapped to attention as they passed, some offering crisp salutes that the Admiral acknowledged with brief nods.

“You understand my hesitation,” the Admiral said as they descended the metal stairs. “What you’re claiming is… considerable. An Origin-rank threat, a Tyrant, and the Chaos Prince himself.” He glanced back at Northern. “These aren’t enemies one simply ’takes care of’ between breakfast and lunch.”

“No,” Northern agreed mildly. “They’re enemies you take care of when they threaten what’s yours. The timing’s irrelevant.”

The Admiral’s steps faltered slightly—just a half-beat—before he continued walking. That response had clearly unsettled him further.

They crossed the dock area, passing Thunderhead’s massive bulk. Several soldiers still stood at a respectful distance, studying the vessel with a mixture of awe and wariness. Northern caught fragments of their whispered conversations:

“I’ve never seen storm channeling like that…”

“How many Drifters does it take to power something like—”

“A single person flew it here, I heard—”

The Admiral led them toward another tower carved into the mountain face, this one marked with blue banners bearing what Northern assumed was Ryugan’s symbol—a stylized peak crowned with clouds.

“The guest quarters are more comfortable than our standard barracks,” the Admiral explained as they entered. “We’ve housed refugees before, diplomatic envoys, occasional defectors from the Empire. This conflict has… complicated matters.”

“I imagine,” Northern said neutrally.

They climbed several flights of stairs—Northern noting the same fusion of carved stone and metal construction—before emerging into a hallway lined with wooden doors. Guards stood at either end, watching their approach with professional alertness.

The Admiral stopped before one of the doors and knocked firmly.

“Lady Nyssira? You have a visitor.”

There was a pause. Movement inside. Then a strong voice, muffled but recognizable:

“A visitor? We’re not exactly—”

The door opened, and Shae—auburn-haired council vice president—stopped mid-sentence, his eyes going wide.

“Ryan?!”

Behind him, Northern could see Ellis turning sharply, Nyssira nearly dropping whatever she was holding, and Ayuri Myu rising from a chair. Visible relief mixed with surprise washed across their features.

“How are you…” Ellis muttered, but before he could finish, someone ran past him and hugged Northern tightly. Her hands wrapped around his waist because, due to her height, that was where she could manage to reach.

She punched Northern’s abs mildly.

“Missed you. Abs.”