I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

After Paragon Raizel outlined the execution of tasks, he spoke briefly about the voyage to Verulania. In that regard, Northern contributed the most—he was the one who had crossed the forests and mountains alone, making it safely to Lithia.

So, he had plenty to share with Ascendant Zion and Sage Mack. With careful precision, Northern explained what he had encountered, what they needed to be cautious of, and what they should look out for.

At the same time, he reassured them that none of the threats they might face were beyond his summons' ability to handle. They were in safe hands.

Once the briefing ended, Northern had somewhere to be. Towards the end of the meeting, Hao had arrived, seeking him out, but he hadn't been allowed entry. Northern had a good idea why could have had to see him.

So, as soon as the gathering concluded, he left.

As he walked down the hall, he spotted Hao and slowed his pace for the old man to catch up.

Northern glanced at him.

"Is she awake?"

"Yes. She woke up recently, looking quite lost. And I must admit, ya did pick a good one… she's sparkling and radiant like a star."

Northern paused for a moment, his brow furrowing in mild confusion before he continued forward.

For the rest of the walk, he remained silent, his mind elsewhere.

Finally, they reached Braham's infirmary. The healer stepped forward, clad in flamboyant armor streaked with veins of molten lava, glowing like fissures in darkened stone.

Braham waved a hand toward Hao, resting it on his shoulder with an easy, pleasant smile.

Despite the healer's undeniable handsomeness, Northern still found him utterly disgusting. And rude.

Hao, however, had long since learned to tolerate his insolence. Not out of patience, but necessity—Braham had something he wanted. And until he got it, he had to endure whatever shit came his way.

That was the unfair law of business, a principle Hao had been taught early: sometimes, you had to bow your head to get what you wanted. And as far as nature was concerned, that law applied to anybody, anytime.

Today, it was Hao's turn to be humble and tolerant. Tomorrow, it could just as easily be Braham's.

The tables always turned. In the merchant world, nothing was a permanent certainty.

Of course, there were exceptions—people who didn't just play the game but controlled it.

Braham was nowhere near that level.

And as for Hao? He was carving his path toward becoming one of them.

Or rather, to be precise—he was making Northern one of them.

Braham shifted his gaze to Northern.

"My good client…"

He paused, squinting slightly.

"Did I ever get your name?"

"I am Rian."

Braham raised his brows in realization.

"Oh! Rian! That's a convenient name. Are you, by chance, related to the extended royalty of Reimgard?"

He chuckled at his own joke before adding,

"Of course, you couldn't possibly be. How would a plebeian like you come from the lineage of those closer to the Luminance Star than any other human race on Tra-el?"

Northern stared at him impassively.

'I bet he'd be shocked out of his damn mind.'

Of course, he wasn't about to throw around sensitive truths just to slap Braham in the face. He knew better than to be so petty.

That didn't mean, however, that if fate ever arranged such a moment, he wouldn't take full advantage of it.

Northern looked at the healer and asked,

"Can I see her?"

Braham grinned.

"Of course, you can. I assured you, she'll be as good as new—and she truly is. She's not here, though."

Northern raised a brow.

"Then where is she?"

Braham turned toward another part of the hallway.

"Follow me. She should be on one of the balconies."

Northern walked after him, his gaze briefly resting on the Molten Vein—no, Spirit Linen—from behind.

The summon looked utterly sick of Braham's presence, practically radiating relief at seeing its master nearby.

Through their link, Northern was already receiving everything his summon had observed, including all that Braham had been doing.

He could have accessed this information without physically seeing the Spirit Linen, but he'd been preoccupied. Now, walking alongside Braham seemed like the perfect time to catch up.

Until Braham's grating voice interrupted his thoughts.

"By the way, Rian. I was going to ask—this young lady, who is she to you?"

Braham glanced at Northern, his ever-present smile perfectly composed. A mask.

Northern remained silent for a moment, considering the question.

Roma had been a persistent source of annoyance since the day they met. But despite that, he couldn't ignore her resolve — it was something he actually admired.

He just felt she was too naive.

Life wasn't sweet, and it certainly didn't deserve sweet people like her.

Yet, despite how annoying she could be, she never seemed to grasp that reality.

That aside, she was a good friend. At the end of the day, everyone was annoying in their own way. Northern was sure he was to some people too.

And when he compared the kind of people who had been tossing the word friend around him lately, Roma was far better. A true friend, in her own way.

That didn't mean he trusted her or relied on her. He was aware she was hiding things—particularly about her origins.

But Northern didn't care.

He was in the same boat. Possibly even worse.

"She's a friend."

Braham's eyes widened slightly.

Strangely enough… he looked… relieved?

Northern didn't understand why.

The next moment, however, Braham's voice broke the silence—lower this time, almost emotional.

"You know, Rian… I'm a weird guy. Most people don't understand me, and honestly, I don't care. I don't even feel drawn to anyone, not usually. The number of times I've ever truly valued someone is rare—it's happened only once in my life. Back in the Dark Continent…"

He hesitated, as if caught in thought, then continued, "Ah, right. Have you heard of the Dark Continent? I came from there. Hao too. Actually—now that I think about it—you seem quite familiar with Hao. Could you be from the Dark Continent as well?"

Northern stopped in his tracks and gave him a long, unreadable stare. Then, instead of answering, he glanced around the hall and frowned slightly.

"Where exactly is the balcony?"

Braham sighed.

"Hmm, not much of a talker, I see. Follow me—it's just around the corner."

They turned into another hallway.

And there she was.

Leaning against the terrace railing, staring down into the city below.

The afternoon sun bathed her in golden warmth, her skin gleaming like polished glass touched by divinity. Her long blonde hair cascaded softly, the wind weaving through it like unseen fingers.

Even clad in sleek armor, her figure was accentuated effortlessly—slender yet shaped with the elegance of an hourglass. She wasn't overly voluptuous, but her presence carried a quiet, undeniable allure.

By the entrance, Braham came to a halt.

He gulped.

His green eyes shimmered with a raw, desperate, and passionate hunger.