I Can Copy And Evolve Talents-Chapter 790: New Life On A Bridge Of Death

Someone none of them would have expected suddenly appeared in front of Rita—

And deflected both strikes.

The sheer impact alone sent her hurtling through the air, her body colliding hard against the thick wall of smoke that protected them from the rear.

Roma groaned.

Blood spilled from her lips, but she didn’t stay down.

She pushed herself up—and was already moving.

Rita, still on the ground, stared in disbelief.

The one person—the one person—who had saved her from the destructive tentacle of death wasn’t a Drifter.

It wasn’t Kion.

It wasn’t the Shadow Drifter.

It was Roma.

A mundane human.

A girl she had considered weak.

Someone none of them had placed any value on at all.

Even the Shadow Drifter hesitated for a split second, his gaze flickering with something close to shock.

Kion’s eyes widened slightly—then his lips curled into a pleased grin.

"Good. Good."

However little it was, the time Roma had bought them was enough for him to press the attack.

His eyes gleamed with cold intent.

"Time to switch things up."

A silvery glow ignited in Kion’s eyes, casting eerie shadows across his face. A cold, steamy breath escaped his lips, curling into the thickened air.

The atmosphere shifted.

The air grew heavy. Dense.

He tightened his grip on the blaster, his fingers coiling around the trigger with ruthless precision.

And then—

He fired.

The first shot tore through the air, a violent shockwave rippling outward from the force.

When it connected—

BOOM.

A vicious explosion erupted, shattering through the bridge, shaking the very structure beneath them.

All eyes turned toward Kion.

He stepped forward slowly, cocking another round, his gaze cold, unreadable—focused.

Another shot boomed across the battlefield.

Another detonation bloomed outward, ripping through the monster.

This time—

The creature screamed.

A raw, agonized wail—almost telepathic, but not whispered into their minds—

But something else.

A sound so unnatural, so terrible that it warped the very air, hijacking every wave of sound around it.

The painful cry tore into their eardrums, shaking them to their very cores.

But Kion—

Kion only loaded another shot.

And then—another shot tore through the air.

A thunderous blast rattled the metallic bridge, sending a fearsome tremor surging through its structure.

The creature wailed.

A soundless agony twisted through the atmosphere, its presence squeezed and contorted by the relentless assault.

The noise was an eerie blend of pain and fury.

It assaulted their ears, a sickening resonance that made the very air feel wrong.

And then—

The pregnant woman could no longer contain it.

She had been stifling her groans, biting down on her pain, desperately trying to suppress even the smallest sound.

But now—she screamed.

A raw, agonized wail, breaking free in an uncontrollable release of suffering.

But—it did not matter.

The wall of ashen fog devoured every sound.

Rita’s talent ability had already ensured that nothing inside the fog could be heard beyond it.

Besides—

The battle behind the bridge was already so colossal, so terrifyingly loud, that anything happening here was but a whisper in the storm.

Kion kept firing.

Shot after shot, hammering into the beast with merciless precision.

At first, his aim was frighteningly accurate—every shot a perfect hit.

But as he advanced—his angles began to twist, bending into unpredictable trajectories.

Yet, somehow, they still connected.

They still tore through the black eel.

And then—finally—

He let his arms drop, his chest heaving.

His body trembled, his muscles screaming from the exertion.

His reserve of soul essence was plummeting—fast.

This ability raised his firepower, but in return—it drained him.

The physical recoil of the blaster had taken its toll.

He couldn’t keep going.

Even so—a cold light still burned in his eyes. A lingering resolve.

But his body—his body was failing.

The monster had suffered.

Its black, lustrous flesh was now riddled with scorched holes, burned open by his relentless barrage.

But…

Beneath those holes—

Something writhed.

Thick, sinewy black muscles—coiling, tensing, pulsing.

It hadn’t been enough.

The damage, however devastating, hadn’t reached the true body beneath.

That slimy, outer layer—it was just a shell.

And already—it was regenerating.

The wounds were closing.

The parchments of holes were sealing back together, as if the damage had never happened.

And the only one capable of piercing past that layer—

Was out of breath.

A quiet tension hung over them.

Roma clenched her fists.

She wiped her nose, smearing fresh blood across her face.

Her body trembled, her arms sore—her own internal wounds weighing down on her.

Barely a minute had passed.

And yet—it felt like an eternity.

The atmosphere was suffocating.

The air was cold. Heavy.

No one knew what to do.

And then—

Amidst that silence—

A cry bloomed into the air.

It was sudden.

Strange.

And unexpected.

Like a beautiful lily flower unfolding in the dead of winter.

For a moment—Rita forgot everything.

She had never imagined she would feel this much joy for something unattached to her.

Roma, who was closest, turned back.

Her eyes landed on the old man—

Who now held a newborn child in his arms.

He had wrapped it in a makeshift linen, torn from his own scarf and the lower pieces of the mother’s gown.

A bright smile spread across Roma’s face.

Her heart leaped.

The cry—

That tiny, fragile cry—

It lifted the weight off the battlefield.

It chased away the suffocating dread.

It was life.

In the midst of death—

Life had been born.

Rita smiled. Reaching down, she picked up her broken spear, and gripped it tightly—as if it were whole.

The expression on her face—

It was victorious.

And for a brief, surreal moment—the black eel wanted to question it.

"What the fuck are you so happy about? Nothing awaits you but a gruesome death."

…Not that it could speak.

But the creature reacted nonetheless.

The moment Rita stood, its tentacles slithered out once more—

Dozens upon dozens, curling into the air like serpents preparing to strike.

At the same time…

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The Shadow Drifter shamefully drew his longsword.

His face was shadowed by focus—

A pale, terrified focus.

Kion stepped forward, his hands trembling as he lifted his blaster.

He glanced sideways at Rita, standing beside him.

"So what from here…?"

Rita smiled somberly.

"This is my last stand, Ki… let me shine a little more, okay?"

Kion frowned.

Then—he steadied himself.

His grip tightened, his stance hardened, and his eyes locked onto the enemy.

Then he spoke.

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"You’re silly if you think dying like this is noble. We must live. All of us. To carry on the weight of the hundreds we’ve lost. No one should die anymore."

A pause—

Then Roma stepped forward.

She nodded, her voice steady.

"I agree. I can’t take it anymore."

Her fingers curled into fists.

"I’m sick and tired of people dying."

Her gaze hardened as she turned to the monster—

But before she could react—

A blur shot past her.

A razor-thin line of blood appeared across her cheek.

It happened faster than any of them could follow.

A terrifying clang rang through the air—

Rita had blocked the strike.

But—

Something was different.

It was—

’...Stronger?’

A terrible vibration ran through her body.

Her legs buckled.

Her vision blurred.

Blood burst from her mouth.

She collapsed to her knees, only barely managing to grip her spear to keep herself from falling completely.

But—

The battle was far from over.

Because—

Dozens of tentacles were already shooting forward.