I Can Copy And Evolve Talents-Chapter 786: The Forest Turtle [part 2]

The impact sent tremors through the very fabric of reality.

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Trees, hundreds of meters away, splintered and burst, their frozen forms unable to withstand the sheer force that rippled outward from the point of collision.

The travelers crossing the bridge—nearing its midpoint—were suddenly assaulted by a violent gust. The wind howled, almost tearing them off their feet, their bodies flailing dangerously over the chasm.

Had it not been for the female Drifter and Shadow Drifter gripping them tightly, the old man and pregnant woman would have been flung into the air.

Roma, instinct sharp as ever, ducked low, allowing the shockwave to whip past overhead.

The entire bridge groaned under the pressure.

Not the metal—that remained firm, forged strong enough to withstand almost anything.

But the ground beneath it.

Tremors cracked through the earth, shaking loose the rigid bond that held the bridge’s foundation together. A fracture deepened. The bridge was at risk.

Roma gritted her teeth, casting a sharp glance back.

There, in the distance, stood Northern—confronting the towering forest turtle.

She clenched her fists. There was little they could ask for.

Northern battling the monster was already more than enough. To expect him to fight while being careful of them was unreasonable.

Shoving such thoughts aside, she rushed forward, pushing the travelers ahead.

The bald-headed Drifter remained behind, his long-barreled firearm charged with soul essence.

With a sharp hiss of release, he fired downward—the high-impact blast shredding the heads of the twisted abominations crawling toward the bridge’s base.

Roma and the other two kept moving, helping the mundane humans cross. The female Drifter, positioned at the front, wielded a long glaive, though so far, she hadn’t needed to use it.

The reason?

The bald-headed Drifter was a fearsome shooter.

Each time an abomination attempted to climb—boom—another fell, its skull obliterated in a flash of precise, calculated destruction.

…

Northern’s chain met the forest turtle’s massive fist—a collision that defied comprehension.

The dark links didn’t merely wrap around the creature’s arm. They bit into it. Like fangs of an insatiable beast, the chains tore through the hardened, bark-like exterior with devastating precision.

But the turtle was far from helpless.

With a sound like an ancient forest being torn asunder, it wrenched its arm back—pulling Northern through the air with sheer, overwhelming force.

Yet even as his body was yanked forward, Northern’s lips curved into a slight smile.

This was exactly what he wanted.

He twisted mid-flight, allowing the force to carry him. The Illusioned Hefter had already materialized in his grip—its blade absent, as if swallowed by the wind.

Still tethered to the monster’s arm, Northern rode the momentum, gliding through the air like a specter.

Then—he plunged the invisible blade into the creature’s bark-covered torso.

And tore through it with ferocious and brutal speed without hesitation. A streak of destruction ripped across the monster’s body as Northern carved his way through its massive form.

The forest turtle roared—a sound so deep, so guttural, it felt as if the earth itself was howling.

A massive crack had been torn open in its wooden exterior.

But something was… wrong.

Northern narrowed his eyes.

’No blood?’

The realization flickered through his mind—just as the wound began to shift.

His eyes narrowed even more as he peered through the distance to see what was happening.

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And there, beneath the ruptured bark, he saw it—

A skin of iron.

Emerging from the cracks, closing the gaping wound of darkness. Hardening. Reinforcing. Making sure the next strike wouldn’t break through so easily.

Northern’s expression darkened.

’This one might take a little while…’

Of course, it would.

It was an Abysmal Maelstrom.

One of the rarest and most dangerous of its kind.

Abyssal monsters were already a rarity.

Apex-class? They should be even rarer.

But Northern had the worst damn luck imaginable.

Below, Northern’s clones continued their relentless assault on the smaller creatures. Their coordinated chaos was like a symphony of destruction—fire and ice wove together, their deadly harmony creating a battlefield of shifting, untamed energy.

Each clone moved with perfect unpredictability, yet within their randomness lay an underlying pattern—one only Northern could truly comprehend.

Then, suddenly—

The forest turtle dropped to all fours.

Its massive shell shifted upward, exposing its reinforced back.

Northern’s instincts flared—but before he could react, dozens of wooden spikes erupted from its shell, shooting toward him with lethal intent.

His response was instantaneous.

The chain connecting him to the creature blazed with electrical energy, lightning arcing violently through the battlefield.

The spikes never reached him.

Caught in a web of crackling power, they disintegrated into ash before they could even graze his body.

But the turtle wasn’t finished.

Its entire form began to shift, wood splitting and reforming as though a tree were growing in accelerated motion.

It wasn’t just a turtle anymore.

It was becoming something else.

Its body compressed, tree trunks twisting tighter and tighter, compacting into a form that was leaner, faster—a grotesque evolution built for mobility and ferocity.

Northern descended, his feet touching the ground with deliberate grace.

The chain retracted, coiling around his arm like a serpent returning to its master. His eyes burned, gleaming with the same intensity as the monster’s transformation.

He smirked.

"So," his voice rang out, unnaturally clear over the battlefield, "you’ve been holding back too."

The forest turtle’s response was a chorus of roars, the very air quivering with its rage.

It no longer resembled the hulking horror it had been.

Now, it bore a striking resemblance to the smaller creatures still battling Northern’s clones—a more nimble, lethal abomination.

Still slightly hunched, its shell began to crack open.

A thick hiss filled the air as clouds of green smoke billowed from its ruptured back. The shell crumbled apart—revealing the horror beneath.

Wooden tentacles flared outward, twisting through the air.

Each tentacle was a nightmare in itself, resembling a hydra—lined with gaping maws and glowing, ancient eyes, their eerie green light brimming with sentience.

Northern raised a hand.

Instantly, every single clone halted their battles. As one, they turned.

The smaller creatures froze, sensing the sudden shift in the air.

Then—they retreated, scurrying back toward their master, like leaves swept into a storm.

The battlefield fell silent.

The air grew heavy, thick with anticipation.

Both sides had unveiled another layer of their strength—

And what came next would decide far more than just the outcome of this fight.

Northern exhaled, his smirk deepening.

"I’ll pay you the courtesy of not holding back too."

He snapped his fingers.

Two rifts tore open in the air.

He stared at the forest abomination, a devilish grin curving his lips.

And then—

Two figures stepped through the rift.