My Talent's Name Is Generator

“So this is the opening attack?” I muttered, eyes fixed on the monstrous finger tearing through the sky above us.

Azalea floated beside me, her expression grim.

“This one’s different,” she said. “It’s truly using the power of a Grandmaster rank. The last three Phantoms we fought? They were barely touching the peak of Master rank in comparison.”

I took a slow breath, letting it settle my thoughts.

My domain thrummed around me, alive and waiting—ready to carry out my command the moment I gave it.

Beside me, Azalea pressed her palms together, her voice a quiet whisper carried by the tension in the air.

“Wooden Tomb.”

The ground beneath our feet cracked with deep rumbles. In all four directions, massive wooden pillars erupted upward—each one nearly fifty feet thick.

They surged past normal tree heights, growing until they reached a hundred meters high. From their tops, roots bloomed in thick bunches, writhing like vines before intertwining above us in a heavy net. A natural dome of gnarled wood formed above us.

I lifted my hand toward the sky, locking my gaze on the descending finger of deathmist.

I didn’t want to waste my Essence just yet—not when the real fight hadn’t even started.

“[Spatial Shield],” I commanded calmly.

The very peak of my Absolute Domain shimmered. Space condensed, folding into itself layer by layer until a glowing, translucent barrier materialized above us—tight, smooth, and solid.

Then we waited.

The finger slammed into my shield with a deafening crack. The sound echoed across the entire place. Black mist erupted from its surface like smoke from an explosion, crashing into the shield with the weight of a mountain.

The shield held—for a heartbeat. Then two.

Then it fractured.

Lines of distortion ran across its surface. The next instant, the shield shattered like glass, the compressed space unraveling as the full force of the finger continued downward.

“[Revert],” I muttered without hesitation.

The runes surging within my Domain rearranged instantly. They spun outward from a central point, forming a massive circle of glowing symbols that matched the finger’s size perfectly.

The crashing finger struck the circle.

The runes flickered violently.

Streams of Deathmist began unraveling from the massive limb. They were being erased—converted, reverted back to harmless mist. The finger’s shape began cracking, large chunks of it destabilizing.

But then the circle shattered with a thunderous bang, its structure overwhelmed.

A shockwave erupted outward, shaking the ground beneath our feet. And still, the finger continued falling.

A prompt flashed in my vision.

[Skill Level Up!]

[Revert – Level 3 → Level 4]

I exhaled slowly, muttering one more word under my breath.

“Freeze.”

Space itself answered me. Particles realigned in my Domain, locking in tightly around the falling finger, trying to hold it in place.

Time didn’t stop, but the pressure around the phantom limb increased. Its descent slowed—strained—but not for long. Cracks spread across the frozen structure, and in the next instant, it burst free again.

The finger struck Azalea’s wooden defense.

BOOM!

A sound like a landslide rolled through the ground. The shockwave battered everything around us. Even standing within the heart of my Domain, I felt the tremble run up my legs and rattle my ribs.

Azalea’s wooden canopy groaned loudly as the finger pressed down against it. Branches splintered, the woven roots stretching under the weight.

I clenched my fist and let my Essence surge outward, no longer holding back.

Streams of violet Essence rushed out from my core and into the wooden structure. The roots and bark absorbed it instantly, glowing brighter, thickening with reinforced energy. The tomb above us hardened as Essence filled every branch and fiber.

The wooden net groaned, the sound sharp and strained, bending under the immense pressure of the phantom’s colossal finger. Cracks started forming along the roots—but still, it held.

It didn’t break.

“[Spatial Shield],” I whispered.

I compressed the space around the wooden net, reinforcing it with another layer of defense. The very air thickened and folded inward, creating an invisible barrier of tightly packed force.

The gigantic finger shuddered, its momentum finally grinding to a stop.

I turned to Azalea.

“Let’s go.”

My wings flared out, and I shot upward, Essence trailing in my wake. Azalea followed a second later.

The moment we escaped the finger’s shadow, her wooden defense collapsed. With a thunderous BOOM, the finger smashed into the ground, sending a massive shockwave rippling across the ruins.

Dust, wind, and deathmist exploded outward from the impact zone.

The giant finger collapsed into a tide of swirling black mist—only to surge upward again, reforming itself into an army. Over a hundred humanoid figures rose from the mist, each one shaped like a warrior, each one brimming with Deathmist.

My eyes widened.

“…Are you kidding me?” I muttered, voice rising in disbelief.

“How is that even a skill?”

Azalea’s tone was sharp, serious.

“A skill based on the Law of Creation can be that absurd. That’s how.”

My gaze narrowed. My jaw tightened.

“Then I’ll handle this group. You take care of the other ones.”

She nodded and flew off without a word.

I stepped forward. Once. Then again.

Boom.

The ground behind me shattered as I launched myself like a missile into the swarm. As soon as they entered my Domain, time seemed to slow. I twisted midair, wings tucking in tight, and dove straight into their center with my staff raised.

“Blitz Hakai!”

Essence surged through my body and into the weapon. Air screamed around the staff’s arc. Power gathered—dense, concentrated, and deadly.

BOOM!

The moment the staff hit the space, the entire area detonated.

A crater tore through the earth, a shockwave bursting outward with terrifying force. Twenty—no, at least twenty-five—of the Deathmist beings were obliterated on contact, their bodies unraveling into dark mist..

“Silver!”

A surge of crimson mist burst from my chest, and with a piercing screech, Silver materialized from the haze. His wings spread wide as he climbed into the air, then unleashed beam after beam of concentrated crimson light, slicing through the Deathmist warriors below.

I landed in the center of the crater, dust swirling around me.

Without wasting a breath, I kicked off the ground.

Nothing surrounded us—no cover, no trees, no rocks. Just endless, cracked gray ground beneath our feet and a bleak sky above, with the floating Deathmist castle looming overhead like a silent god.

The Deathmist army spread out before me. Each figure stood tall, cloaked in black mist, bearing different weapons—swords, axes, spears—and layered in jagged armor sculpted from the mist itself.

I took a breath and charged.

My staff blurred as I swung it sideways, shattering the first figure in my path.

Its misty body exploded on contact, vanishing like steam. I didn’t stop. I twisted and brought the staff down like a hammer—crack!—another one gone. Then again—BOOM!—I swept three off their feet in a single spin, the impact sending shockwaves through the ground.

These things weren’t strong.

Their movements were stiff, their patterns easy to read. They fought like shadows of real warriors. I estimated their strength somewhere between level 120 and 140—nowhere near enough.

I danced through them like a storm.

I growled, slammed my staff down a head of one and punched a hole through another one’s chest. Mist erupted outward, the creature crumbling. One leapt at me with a jagged blade—I deflected the strike with a flick of my wrist and bashed its skull in with a sharp upward jab.

Another came at my back. I spun, caught its weapon with the shaft of my staff, then used the momentum to lift and hurl it into three more. They all burst apart like sandbags under pressure.

Above me, Silver screeched.

Crimson light rained down from the sky. His beams carved straight through the mass, vaporizing Deathmist beings in pairs. The light seared deep gouges into the flatland, briefly revealing the charred ground beneath.

There was no need to use advanced skills.

I was faster. Stronger.

My staff moved like an extension of my will—spinning, striking, sweeping through enemies like they were paper. Each hit was decisive. Each movement lethal.

One by one, they fell. And within thirty seconds there was nothing left but the dispersed Deathmist.

Creation is hard, cheer me up!