My Talent's Name Is Generator

Chapter 472: The Fiery Fastball

And he still didn’t give up. This time he curved wide, avoiding Ragnar again, but came at the wall from the opposite side.

He was cautious now. Instead of charging straight ahead, he kept running along the ground and waved his hand. Instantly, the air caught fire, and hundreds of blazing fireballs shot forward like meteors, streaking toward the wall and high above it.

I couldn’t help but smile. So, he wanted to test the defenses. Fine. I let the fireballs crash harmlessly against the walls and scatter into the air, giving him just enough to believe there was no resistance. Let him feed his curiosity.

The moment he saw his fireballs fly without hitting anything, he blurred forward again, rushing straight toward the castle. His speed ripped through the air, his body flickering between flame and flesh.

But just like before, I caught him mid-air. With a flick of my will, his fiery body snapped back to flesh and was hurled backward. This time he smashed directly into the staff’s edge, the force echoing like thunder across the cemetery.

Dust rose around him as he slid to a halt, his knees striking the ground. He stayed there this time, kneeling, flames simmering weakly across his skin.

”Knight, I guess you’ll have to force him,” I said.

But before Knight could move, Ragnar disappeared from his spot in the cemetery and reappeared right in front of the kneeling Primus.

His massive frame loomed like a mountain, casting a long shadow over the demon.

Primus slowly lifted his head and met Ragnar’s eyes.

Silence fell, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder rolling through the clouds above.

”Are you strong?” Ragnar asked, his deep voice echoing through the ruined graves.

Primus’ eyes widened slightly at the question. He let out a rough cough, then pushed himself up to stand tall, fire still simmering along his body. His gaze locked onto Ragnar’s without wavering.

The next moment, his body flared brightly, bursting into roaring flames, and he blurred away, choosing to run instead of facing Ragnar head-on.

Ragnar’s lips curled into a wide grin. His knees bent, the earth cracking under his weight, and with a thunderous shockwave he shot forward, chasing Primus like a beast unleashed.

Knight whispered beside me,

”Shouldn’t that be considered disobeying you?”

I shook my head.

”Not yet,” I replied, my eyes fixed on the fiery demon darting forward like a loosened arrow and on Ragnar, who soared above him in a single leap like a falling boulder.

Ragnar’s massive palm, wrapped in crimson mist, slammed down on the back of Primus’ flickering head. The impact shook the ground as Ragnar roared, smashing the demon straight into the dirt and grinding both of them to a halt. Dust and broken stone sprayed across the graves.

Then Ragnar lifted the demon up again as if he weighed nothing. With another roar, he spun his massive body and hurled him skyward.

Primus shot up with a sharp whoosh, his blazing form tearing through the air, spinning out of control as he was flung toward the storming clouds above.

”He’s gonna hit the black lightning,” Knight muttered, his body already floating upward as if preparing to pull the demon back.

”Not yet,” I said calmly.

Down below, Ragnar planted his feet, raised his thick arm, and pointed his club at the demon streaking upward.

A cone of force, so faint it was almost invisible, burst from the club and struck Primus mid-flight. His body froze just short of the rolling clouds, hanging there unnaturally.

Primus gagged and coughed blood from the sudden stop, his body jerking against the restraint.

He tried to blur away, flames flashing around him, but the invisible force held him like a chain. In the next instant, Ragnar pulled down, and the demon’s body plummeted with terrifying speed.

Ragnar shifted his stance, lowering the club across his body, his grin spreading wide.

”Wait... is he planning to use him like a ball and a bat?” I chuckled.

Primus flailed, trying to resist, but the force dragging him down was too strong. He was helpless, no more than a fireball falling to its doom.

Ragnar roared, knees bent, muscles coiled. The moment the demon came into reach, he swung.

BOOM!

A deafening shockwave ripped through the cemetery as the club smashed into Primus’ ribs. The impact hurled him across the field, his body tumbling end over end before it finally skidded to a halt near the broken bones engraved with time runes.

”He held back,” Knight commented, his voice calm as ever.

”Of course,” I replied with a faint smile. ”Otherwise the demon would’ve exploded into droplets.”

Knight’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ”Billion... why do you think we are so strong?”

I tilted my head at him. ”What do you mean?”

His tail swung lazily as he spoke. ”I mean all of us, your summons. Why are we this strong? It feels like we’re three, maybe four times stronger than anyone else at our level. We never tire. Our comprehension of things is too good as well. Is this... because of you?”

I nodded. ”Yes. We share our evolution. Anything I learn, you learn more easily. Even my stats flow into you. That’s why Ragnar and Lyrate can never settle who’s stronger, they’re both pulling from the same source. Think of me as your resource pool. How much you draw out depends on your potential and how uniquely you can apply it.”

Knight hummed softly, as if that explained many things he had quietly wondered about.

”Looks like the demon is done for,” he said, his tone almost casual.

I glanced back at Primus. He was coughing blood nonstop, clutching his ribs where Ragnar’s blow had landed.

The swelling was visible even from where I stood. He could barely push himself into a sitting position, his flames flickering faintly and fading with each breath.

Ragnar kept moving toward him, each step slow and heavy, the ground trembling under his weight.

Primus looked half-broken already, his ribs swollen, his body trembling, yet his eyes still burned with that same stubborn fire. Even on his knees, even crawling, he refused to let the flame inside him die out.

As Ragnar’s shadow stretched closer, Primus began dragging himself backward, inch by inch across the dirt. His breath came ragged, blood dripping from his lips, but still he clawed at the ground as if distance could save him.

Then his hand brushed against something cold.

He froze, glancing down.

There, half-buried in the soil, lay a massive shard of bone, curved like part of a spine, etched all across with strange glowing runes. It pulsed faintly.

Primus’ eyes widened. He pressed his palm against it, fingers tracing the grooves. The moment his skin met the bone, the runes flared softly, and he stiffened as if struck by a vision. His eyes slid shut for a heartbeat, his expression tightening.

When he opened them again, the fire inside his gaze burned brighter, sharper. Without hesitation, the bone flickered and vanished, sucked into his storage ring.