I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Chapter 1256: How To Address A King

’Roma?’

Northern recognized her immediately—the golden-blonde hair, the amber eyes. Even wrapped in a resplendent dress that made her look nothing like the Roma he was used to seeing, she was unmistakable.

As he and his friends stepped closer, Roma was narrowing her eyes and tilting her head. The King hadn’t yet arrived. Only a handful of guards occupied the hall, along with the official who had escorted them.

Northern positioned himself at the front of the group and waited, but his gaze drifted toward Roma. She was studying him with keen intensity.

In the weeks since they’d parted, he had changed. Grown taller. His hair had grown longer, his skin smoother and more alabaster, his eyes sharper and more dangerous. It was understandable why she wouldn’t recognize him immediately.

She stepped forward suddenly, fixing her gaze on him and walking closer with a deep frown of curiosity.

’No. No. No… don’t come.’

He wished she wouldn’t.

But she reached him anyway. Everyone in the hall turned to watch—the students, the soldiers, the Admiral and the Official, even the royal secretary who was just entering the throne room.

She knitted her brows, raising her face to peer directly into Northern’s gaze. He stared straight ahead, desperately willing her not to figure it out.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Her voice broke loose.

Northern’s gaze drifted downward to glimpse her.

“Me? Who?”

“Rian! You’re the one… just a few weeks ago, we met at Verulania and traveled to Lithia!”

Northern was silent for a moment. He was tempted to feign ignorance—to play with Roma and watch her grow frustrated. But he sighed instead.

“It’s quite surprising to have you recognize me so quickly. I never thought we’d be meeting again so soon.”

Roma’s eyes sparkled with a beautiful light.

“Ha! It’s you! Me too! I thought it’d be years!”

Northern looked at her and allowed himself a short laugh.

Roma studied him, then the group behind him, her gaze bouncing between them.

“Wait—are you also marching to Stelia with them?”

Northern exhaled.

’Just how many times will I have to explain this…’

He opened his mouth to speak—

The doors of the hall groaned open. A large soldier in heavy armor announced:

“His Majesty ARRIVES!”

The King was tall and broad, his presence easily filling the room. Long blue hair flowed down his back. He wore no shirt, displaying a massive chest and abs riddled with scars. A heavy cloak dragged across the floor behind him, draped over his shoulders like a trophy.

Everyone parted and bowed as he walked.

Everyone except Northern.

The man glanced at him from the corner of his eye as he passed, then climbed the dais and settled onto his throne.

“Roma.” His voice came out harsh, almost reproachful. “What business do you have with them?”

Princess Roma immediately turned and offered a bow to her father.

“This is my friend. The one I told you about, fath—Your Majesty.”

The King’s expression shifted. Pleased now.

“Oh? The one who saved your life. The one I made promises of great rewards to.” He leaned forward, interest kindling in his eyes. “Interesting. I never thought he would actually appear before me, based on what you told me about him. And certainly not so soon.”

Roma nodded eagerly, excitement dancing in her eyes. “I know, right?! I was surprised myself!”

’These two… what exactly did they discuss about me?’

The way they conversed—it was clear they’d had plenty to gossip about in private. The man also seemed quite fond of his daughter. He’d been subtly hostile toward Northern when he entered and Northern refused to bow. But now that Roma had identified him, the King was suddenly bright and warm, regarding Northern with open kindness.

As if he hadn’t been calculating how to crush Northern’s knee and force him to bow just moments ago.

’I see where she gets it from…’

“Oh well, I’m sure there’s a reason you’re here.” The King waved a hand. “Let’s get to that first. And perhaps afterward, the three of us can share tea and cupcakes while discussing the experience of Lithia!” He smiled, though something sharp lurked beneath it. “I hope you don’t mind… boy.”

Northern held the King’s gaze. No emotion in his eyes. Cold and unreadable.

“Actually… I do. I’m here on urgent matters. So I do mind.”

The King looked at him, a flicker of concern crossing his features. “Okay? And what would that be?”

The Admiral walked closer to the throne, climbed the dais, and leaned in to whisper something in the King’s ear.

Northern watched the progression. Initial curiosity morphing into confusion, then disbelief, then something that looked almost like offense.

The Admiral stepped back. The King leaned forward on his throne, studying Northern with new intensity.

“You’re telling me,” the King said slowly, each word measured, “that you’ve already dealt with the threats in Stelia? The very threats that prompted us to mobilize our entire military force?”

“Yes,” Northern said simply.

“The Chaos Prince. An Origin-rank threat. A Tyrant.” The King’s voice had taken on a sharp edge. “You defeated all three. In three days.”

“Two, actually. Maybe less. Time got a bit fuzzy.” Northern paused. “And I killed Kryos, contained the Koll, and the Chaos Prince… well, that situation is more complicated than ’defeated,’ but he’s not a threat anymore.”

Silence fell over the throne room like a physical weight.

Roma was staring at him, her earlier excitement replaced by something closer to shock. The students behind him had gone very still—they’d heard him say it before, but hearing it repeated to a king somehow made it more real.

The King rose from his throne. Slowly. Deliberately.

“You expect me to believe,” he said, voice carrying across the vast space, “that a boy—however talented, however well-trained—single-handedly resolved a continental crisis that would have required armies? That you accomplished in days what Transcendents and Paragons would struggle with for weeks?”

Northern met his gaze without flinching. “I don’t particularly care what you believe. I’m stating facts. The threats are neutralized. You don’t need to send troops to Stelia.”

“Facts.” The King’s tone suggested he found the word amusing. “And what proof do you offer for these… facts?”

“The fact that Stelia still exists,” Northern said flatly. “The fact that the continent isn’t currently being torn apart by void energy or consumed by madness. The fact that you haven’t felt the soul pressure of an Origin-rank battle that should have registered across half the world.” He paused. “And the fact that I’m standing here instead of still fighting.”

Roma stepped forward, her royal composure slipping. “Father—Your Majesty—if he says he did it, then—”

“Roma.” The King’s voice wasn’t harsh, but it was firm. “I appreciate your faith in your friend, but these claims require more than personal testimony.”

He turned his attention back to Northern, and there was something calculating in his eyes now. Not hostile, exactly. Assessing.

“Let us say, for the sake of argument, that what you claim is true. That you somehow defeated these threats.” The King descended the dais steps, each footfall deliberate. “Why should I believe you did so alone? Perhaps you had help. Perhaps the threats were weaker than reported. Perhaps—”

“Perhaps you’re wasting my time,” Northern interrupted, his voice dropping into something colder. “I came here to collect my friends and the members of my group that you’re holding. Not to defend my accomplishments to someone who wasn’t there.”

A ripple went through the assembled guards and officials. One did not interrupt a king.

One certainly did not speak to a king with that tone.