I Can Copy And Evolve Talents-Chapter 802: The Preparation

As the third team of the day concluded their battle, the fourth team stepped into the coliseum. Their figures stood firm, clinging to the very arena itself, poised for the next clash.

Meanwhile, Northern and his teammates rose from their seats, making their way toward the underground backstage to prepare for their entry.

This meant they couldn’t watch the current fight unfolding above.

Yet, the intensity of the battle was undeniable.

Tremors pulsed beneath Northern’s feet, faint but unmistakable—likely a fierce exchange of elemental talents, shaking the very foundation of the coliseum.

But his mind wasn’t on the fight.

His thoughts spun in endless loops as they navigated the underground halls.

The strange student’s piercing gaze, his knowing smile—what did it mean?

"Our paths shall cross soon."

That’s what it felt like. A silent promise, or maybe… a warning.

Of course, if this was simply about combat, Northern wasn’t worried.

Not even slightly.

Even though he was fighting with a clone, which lacked the full power of his real body, he didn’t believe any opponent here could push him to the limit.

But the appearance of that student…

It nagged at him.

Even as they reached the preparation room, where fighters could purchase last-minute items, Northern remained distant, his thoughts a tangled mess.

His teammates, however, weren’t interested in buying anything. They all knew one thing—

They wouldn’t be doing anything.

The opposing team was in another waiting area, leaving their room eerily silent, the air thick with an almost oppressive weight.

And Northern, lost in thought, only added to it.

Aster swallowed—hard.

He had already taken several gulps, but this one felt different. It felt… Final.

Then, determination flickered in his expression as he turned to Northern.

"So… uhm, are you alright?"

Northern barely registered the question. His brows lifted, his focus snapping back to reality.

"Hm? Yeah. I’m alright."

He exhaled sharply, shaking off the lingering unease.

For now, he’d push the worry aside.

Right now, he had one job—winning.

And speaking of winning…

A new thought surfaced, sending another wave of confusion through him.

’Should I end it instantly? Overwhelm them in one decisive move?

Or should I toy with them first…?’

He paused.

His eyes drifted, gaze momentarily distant—then they narrowed. A small smile curved at his lips.

’Alright… I think I’ll do both.’

Just as Northern reached his conclusion, a thunderous cheer erupted, shaking the very foundations of the coliseum.

The roar of the crowd resonated, a tremor of excitement surging through the air.

’They must have been really impressed with the last team.’

Northern nodded slightly, a cool, composed motion.

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It was a shame they wouldn’t be facing that team—not yet, at least. He would have loved to see what had made the crowd so ecstatic. And more importantly—

He would have loved to crush it.

But the rules didn’t work that way.

Each team was assigned a single opponent per stage—only after securing victory would they move forward to the next battle. It would be unfair to force one team to fight twice in a day.

Of course, teams with lower contest scores had more battles most especially because they also had to pass the preliminaries where they finally come into the main contest and throughout the tournament compared to Northern’s team and a few others who had performed exceptionally well during the rift trials.

At least until the finals, Northern’s team would only have two battles.

Then, finally, the moment arrived.

A clerk entered the preparation room, bowing slightly.

"It is time."

Northern smiled and stood up. His teammates followed suit.

The clerk’s gaze swept across them, studying their faces before he spoke again, his voice carrying a hint of caution.

"Pardon me, sir… but who’s going first, second, and third?"

Northern barely glanced at him before lifting a single finger—then pointing at himself.

"Me."

The clerk paused, blinking once. Then his expression faltered, an almost imperceptible shift—

Disgust.

’Another overconfident student…’

He had seen far too many of them over the years. No matter how youthful he might appear, he had dealt with enough arrogance to last a lifetime.

Suppressing a sigh, he folded his arms and began to explain, his voice tinged with forced patience.

"I think you need to understand— it’s not possible for only you to go first, second, and third. Even if you manage to win two battles, you’ll be exhausted by the third. The last fight will definitely be difficult."

He paused, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Northern alone—this time, far more intently.

’He looks slightly older than the rest… but still—’

The words were on the tip of his tongue—but he never got the chance to say them.

Because the moment Northern moved—

A hand rested on his shoulder.

A simple touch.

Yet, in an instant, it felt as though the entire weight of the world was crashing down upon him.

His insides twisted. A sharp, unbearable pressure spread through his body, suffocating, relentless, crushing his very existence.

The clerk’s fists clenched.

A desperate attempt to resist—but his knees wobbled, trembling violently. His legs felt like they were dancing against his will, barely keeping him upright.

His vision blurred.

He had no idea why this was happening.

Northern’s teammates remained still, their expressions unreadable. But they were far more aware of what was happening.

They had felt this before.

Then—as abruptly as it came—

It vanished.

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The oppressive force dissipated, leaving only a lingering chill in the air.

Northern’s pleasant smile returned—calm, effortless. As if nothing had happened.

The clerk, still trying to catch his breath, felt his heart hammering inside his chest.

But there was no trace of the pressure anymore.

Just Northern.

Smiling.

The clerk finally managed to pull himself together. Though his hands still trembled faintly, he straightened his posture and led Northern’s team down the passageway toward the coliseum’s center.

On the opposite side, their opponents had already emerged from their own preparation room, waiting.

As Northern and his teammates stepped onto the battlefield—

A deafening roar erupted.

The cheers tore through the wind, a tidal wave of excitement surging through the arena.

Northern winced.

’Isn’t that louder than usual...? What’s going on?’

His gaze swept across the opposing team, taking his time to study them, his head tilting slightly.

Yet, even after a few moments of careful observation—

He still wasn’t sure what was happening.

A crease formed between his brows.

He turned, glancing at Aster.

"What’s going on…?"

Aster didn’t respond immediately.

His face had gone pale, his eyes flickering between the three opponents standing across from them.

Then—a sharp breath.

Northern’s eyes narrowed.

Something was off.

Yes, their opponents were just another three-man team—that much was expected.

But two of them—

They had serious scores to settle with Aster and him.

And the last one…

The last one was infamous.

Very, very infamous.