I Can Copy And Evolve Talents - Chapter 1302

Capítulo 1302: Unpaid Celebrity

After meeting with the Abyss Tyrant, he made his way toward the students who had volunteered to leave with the group.

He had actually expected fewer of them—not that they would include themselves in such an obviously dangerous endeavor. But then again… what was he saying? These were the same people who had refused to back down from going to the Academy in the first place.

Even though they had still gone—and become liabilities to him in the process.

Northern admired their resolve nonetheless.

If he were weak like them, he didn’t see himself getting involved in any of this at all.

‘Truly fascinating set of kids.’

He stopped in front of their door at last. Muted sounds leaked through the reinforced metallic surface as he stood there, hand hovering inches from the panel.

He listened.

Their banter carried through in fragments—soft shouts, laughter dulled by the thickness of the door. Still, it was oddly pleasant to hear. He enjoyed it, truthfully.

‘I feel like some kind of unpaid celebrity. Why am I going from place to place, checking up on everybody…’

Of course, the moment the question formed, the answer followed just as easily.

He didn’t need to do this. He didn’t need to care about what they were doing or how they were holding up.

But he wasn’t the type to blatantly ignore people—especially when he liked them. Especially when he considered them friends.

‘Friends… huh.’

Northern sighed and knocked.

The door opened almost immediately. Shae stood there, blinking once—twice—as if he hadn’t quite expected to see Northern on the other side.

Someone else peeked out from behind him. Ellis.

“Hey! Northern!”

Ellis looked… right with these people. Like he had finally found his peers. When he was around Northern alone, he had always looked smaller. Almost like a servant following a master’s shadow.

“I’m sorry to drop by, I—”

“Sorry? Whatttt?” Ellis shouted.

Shae only blinked again. He wasn’t particularly close to Northern, but he knew enough to understand what standing face to face with him meant. This was a powerhouse—someone you did not treat casually.

All the things Northern had done—or was said to have done—defeating Origins, fighting Tyrants, winning a war that had nearly consumed an entire continent… it all sounded so unreal when spoken aloud.

And yet here he was.

Standing casually in front of their door.

It made the stories feel almost insulting in retrospect.

“What are you doing, Vice President?” Ellis added. “You’re just gonna freeze?”

Shae snapped back to himself and hurriedly stepped aside, widening the door.

“Please, sir. Step in.”

Northern glanced at him, a flicker of discomfort crossing his face, but he said nothing and entered.

Even though he was only seventeen—or would be soon—his stature, his bearing, the weight of his presence separated him from them without effort. His attire didn’t help either. Prestigious, deliberate. It drew a line whether he wanted it to or not.

Northern scanned the room.

There was the strange girl with glasses—he remembered her. Nyssira sat hunched over a small table, both hands cradling a pot with a single flower growing from it. She leaned close, inhaling its scent.

She paused when she noticed him.

Her eyes lit up as she greeted him, then she turned back to the flower, intent once more.

Northern’s attention was already caught.

He stepped closer.

“Isn’t that Therivales?”

Nyssira tilted her head up toward him. “Mother’s Grace,” she confirmed.

Northern smiled, a spark of interest flickering in his eyes.

“I never thought I’d find one around here. Is it pregnant yet?”

Nyssira leaned back slightly and shook her head. “I’ve been waiting for it to be…”

“Ah,” he said, genuine disappointment slipping into his voice. He had been looking forward to seeing one in that state.

This was one of the flowers he had read extensively about. Therivales carried their seeds within their stems, causing a gradual bulging over nine long months. When the seed finally bloomed, the original flower would wither and die.

A single year. That was their lifespan.

Yet throughout it, they appeared unchanged—timeless, almost deceptive.

The books he had read insisted that no two were ever truly alike.

“Rian,” Northern asked without turning, “have you ever seen a pregnant one?”

“No,” came the reply. “They’re incredibly rare. You?”

Nyssira nodded. “My mother had one. My brother killed it.”

Northern stilled.

Understanding clicked into place.

“Right,” he said quietly. “You’re from the Northern Continent.”

His expression hardened—not with anger, but with something colder. He pulled out a chair and sat across from Nyssira’s table.

The room had gone silent.

No one could focus on anything anymore. It felt as though time itself had paused. Not because Northern was exerting power—he wasn’t—but simply because he was there.

Because of who he was.

They had seen it before. At the school. In the arena. After everything that followed.

Lenn swallowed.

All of them found something—anything—to occupy themselves with, carefully avoiding looking toward Northern and Nyssira.

The pink-haired girl who hovered near Nyssira most of the time watched from the far corner of the room, her mood clearly soured. Ayuri Myu stood a little distance away, arms folded, eyes sharp with poorly concealed jealousy. Tristan, Shae, and the rest of the guys busied themselves with obvious theatrics—shuffling items, adjusting equipment, pretending to be deeply invested in tasks that did not need doing.

It was all painfully transparent.

Ellis, meanwhile, simply stared at them, confusion written plainly across his face.

Northern was powerful—no one could deny that. Terrifyingly so. But he was also their age-mate. Someone kind, in his own rough, abrasive way. Someone who complained, snapped, and carried himself like a menace, yet somehow still cared far more than he ever admitted.

Ellis couldn’t understand why everyone was acting like this.

‘Huh… whatever. I guess they’ll get comfortable with time.’

He turned his attention back to Northern and Nyssira, listening in on their quiet exchange.

The moment Northern regarded her with a stern expression, she straightened as well, lifting her gaze to meet his with equal seriousness. Her posture became flawlessly cold—composed, guarded, deliberate.

“I have a question…” Northern said, his voice carrying a sharpened edge. “How did you come to the Central Plains—and why? Of all places to study, why Milhguard?”

The question landed heavily.

Nyssira’s expression darkened at once, something dangerous flickering behind her eyes.