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I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

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!! Note: This is an overpower genre but MC does not just start off like that. Even though MC can copy talents he doesn't just jump around copying talents because there's a limitation. However, his rise to strength is depicted and is an experience to enjoy. The first few hundreds would be frustrating to follow because MC is weak but that makes the experience all the more interesting when MC finally gets freaking strong and starts wiping the floor with everyones asses.

RighteousFilth · Fantasie
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674 Chs

In The Fray [PART 3]

Night Terror and Black Mamba were another set of destruction that fell on the battlefield. The two alone were the core reason why the eastern part of the fray had not swallowed any of their allies under the sheer weight of monstrous numbers.

Black Mamba fought with two long rods, each end honed to a deadly, needle-sharp point, and he wielded them with a wild, ruthless elegance.

Ordinarily, such weapons demanded the control of both hands, but he handled them one-handed, his other hand free to parry, block, or strike with precision.

It was as if his limbs moved with minds of their own, each attack a calculated slice into the enemy ranks.

His strikes were relentless, the rods spinning in his grasp like extensions of his bones, piercing through skulls and torsos with a ferocity that left the creatures recoiling.

A grotesque creature, its face a twisted mass of hollow eyes and slavering jaws, lunged at him, aiming its claws at his exposed flank.