My Talent's Name Is Generator

The impact did not falter the charge.

It transformed it.

Silver’s dive tore through the Eternal formation like a blade forced through layered armor. The moment his massive body slammed into the first defense layer, the battlefield stopped being an open void and became something far more brutal. Fractured platforms, broken law-anchors, and shattered structures exploded outward as the first Eternal defense layer split apart under the force of his descent.

The void screamed.

The layer cracked down the middle, violently, jagged fractures spreading outward like lightning frozen into space. Entire sections of the defense platform broke loose and drifted apart, dragging Eternal constructs and abominations with them. Shields collapsed in flickers.

And the demon army poured in.

They did not hesitate. They did not slow. What had been a spear became a flood. Demons leapt from Silver’s back in waves, landing on fractured platforms, shattered bastions, and drifting debris. Their auras flared as they adjusted to solid footing, weapons igniting, domains blooming as the fight shifted from open void clashes into close, brutal warfare.

This was no longer a distant battle.

This was an invasion.

The Phantom-level Grandmasters stationed on the first layer reacted immediately.

They emerged from their bunkers, their presence cold and heavy. Unlike the abominations, these beings moved with intent. Their forms shimmered between solidity and deathmist, laws woven tightly around their bodies as they stepped forward to block the demon advance.

They formed lines.

The first wave of demons crashed into them head-on. Essence exploded. Laws clashed. Entire sections of the fractured layer lit up with violent collisions as gravity folded, fire tore through space, and shadow swallowed light.

Ragnar was already there dragging the generals with him.

He did not slow when the terrain changed. He did not care that the battlefield now had structure, edges, and limits. His silver aura burned brighter as his feet slammed onto the shattered defense layer, each step cracking reinforced matter beneath him.

A Phantom general rushed him from the side, its form blurring as it attempted to strike through a spatial fold.

Ragnar turned.

His club came down with brutal precision, force law collapsing inward at the point of impact. The Phantom did not even finish phasing before it was smashed into the fractured platform below, its form imploding under layered force. Ragnar followed through, dragging the weapon back up and swinging again, crushing the Phantom so hard, its body exploded.

I was racking up levels from their kills, and that growth was feeding back into them, strengthening them even as the fight raged on.

His laughter echoed across the battlefield.

Above him, Aurora was finishing her work.

Two of the three Transcendent Generals she had engaged were already failing. Their shields were cracked, their domains unstable, their movements slower with every exchange. Aurora moved like lightning given intent, her form flickering from strike to strike, never staying long enough to be locked down.

One of the Generals tried to retreat.

Aurora did not allow it.

She appeared above him, her spear forming in her hand in a crack of thunder. She drove it down through his defense, through his core, and pinned him to the shattered layer below. Lightning erupted outward, tearing his form apart from the inside.

The second General roared and charged her in desperation.

Aurora met him head-on.

Her lightning wrapped around his arm, surged into his body, and detonated. His scream cut off mid-sound as his form collapsed into nothing but fading law fragments and dispersing deathmist.

She did not pause to celebrate.

She turned toward the third General.

Below, the demon captains were driving the advance.

They pushed hard, domains expanding, forces colliding as abominations were cut down in droves. The traitors among them had no choice now. There was nowhere to hide. No room to hesitate. The momentum dragged them forward, forcing them to fight even as their instincts screamed retreat.

And every death fed something unseen.

Knight moved without being noticed.

He flashed between shadows, between explosions, between moments of chaos where perception failed. Wherever a Phantom fell, wherever deathmist bloomed too thick, he was there. His shadows wrapped around the dispersing energy, pulling it inward, refining it, compressing it.

Crimson mist formed around him, dense and controlled.

He did not take too much.

He took enough.

Each absorption was careful, deliberate, feeding the growing reserves without triggering a reaction from the Eternal side. The battlefield was too loud, too violent for anyone to notice the quiet harvesting happening in its depths.

He was quietly growing strong because we needed him to be stronger for the next phase.

Silver rose again.

After unloading the demon army onto the fractured defense layer, he beat his massive wings once, twice, and then pulled upward. The void trembled as he climbed, crimson mist trailing from his wings like a burning tide.

For a moment, he hovered.

Then he folded his wings and dove.

He did not aim for troops.

He aimed for the structure.

His beak struck first, followed by the full weight of his transformed body. The first defense layer buckled completely under the impact. The entire platform split further, collapsing inward as massive sections tore free and drifted apart.

The breach widened.

And that was when the tower responded.

A pulse rolled outward from the towering structure nearest the rift.

A presence.

The battlefield went still for half a heartbeat as an oppressive aura washed across the fractured layer. Laws shifted. Space tightened. Deathmist surged unnaturally, thickening near the tower as if drawn toward it.

The abominations roared in unison.

Across the battlefield, demon forces felt it too.

And Saleos answered.

His aura rose.

It did not explode outward like Ragnar’s or blaze like Aurora’s. It spread steadily, heavy and controlled, grounding the battlefield beneath its weight. Fire law intensified around him, stabilizing demon formations, reinforcing domains, countering the creeping suppression rolling out from the tower.

I stood back and watched it all unfold.

This was exactly what I wanted.

The battlefield was loud, chaotic, violent beyond measure but it was not collapsing. The demons were not being pushed back. The Eternal forces were reacting, adjusting, committing resources instead of controlling the flow.

I landed gently amid the shattered debris of the first defense layer and immediately extended my perception outward, sweeping from this layer toward the second. Space rippled under my will, and I teleported again, crossing over the broken battlefield and the clashing armies, arriving in the void that separated the first and second layers.