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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 · Fantasía
Sin suficientes valoraciones
690 Chs

What Do You Fight For?

With how inexplicable the situation had become, Northern stared indifferently at the new creature with an eerie calmness.

His stance was slightly bent, extending the Mortal Blade in the pursuit of blood and flesh… to render the terror, or rather, terrors, that stood before him asunder.

One of them had been enough trouble already.

Well, it was unsure if he remembered how much of a difficulty facing Night Terror posed. Although, despite the fact that his consciousness was lost to the cold darkness of oblivion, his instincts still inflicted a memory of fear from that encounter.

Maybe he was tentatively looking at them right now because of the unspoken, ignored memories of fear that coursed not through his head, but his muscles.

The two terrors stood apart from him, one holding a wicked, corrupted pole steel with a sharp needle-like tip that was almost kissing the ground.