My Talent's Name Is Generator

Chapter 560: The Feran Tide

Instantly, the Ferans sprang back into motion. Essence surged through the void as dozens of rods flared to life again, releasing waves of distortion that converged toward the mirror.

Vaelix folded his arms across his chest and turned his gaze toward us, clearly waiting to see what we would do.

I raised my head slightly, watching the battlefield take shape. Three grandmasters were rushing straight toward our position, while the others spread out, moving to form a complete perimeter around the mirror. They were sealing it off, making sure no one interfered.

I turned to the mirror. Its border was nearly complete, pulsing with a strange, layered resonance. Whatever it was about to do, it was close to finishing.

That meant there was no avoiding a fight.

I raised my hand and pointed a finger toward one of the floating rods glowing with unstable light. Violet Essence condensed at my fingertip and then erupted into a focused beam that tore across the void.

The beam struck fast but before it could hit the rod, a shimmering field of energy unfolded around it, taking the impact head-on. The barrier rippled but held firm, not even cracking.

That caught me off guard.

I lowered my hand, watching the faint residue of my beam dissolve into motes of Essence.

The grandmasters were almost on us now, their auras burning brighter as they closed the distance. Their grins were wide, confident.

And behind them, Vaelix still hadn’t moved. He was just watching.

”Ragnar,” I muttered.

The space beside me trembled, and Ragnar vanished. A heartbeat later, he appeared in front of the closest grandmaster. Before the tiger could even raise his guard, Ragnar’s fist slammed into his chest.

A sharp crack echoed through the void as the grandmaster’s body folded inward, Essence bursting from the point of impact. He was thrown back violently, crashing into the second grandmaster behind him with bone-shaking force.

Ragnar didn’t stop. He flickered forward again, his movement blurring. His knee came up like a hammer and smashed into the head of the third grandmaster.

BOOM!

The impact sent the beast flying, his body twisting through space before slamming into a floating shard of debris.

And just as quickly, Ragnar reappeared beside me, calm and expressionless, as though nothing had happened.

The silence that followed was brief but heavy. Even Vaelix’s eyes narrowed slightly, his earlier calm flickering for just an instant.

”I will not allow you to have this artifact,” I said, my voice carrying across the void.

”You will not allow?” Vaelix asked, almost curious.

”Yes.”

”Kill them.” His command snapped through the air. Immediately the nearest grandmasters finished setting their rods, roared as one, and charged toward us, close to 150 of them.

”Don’t go all out,” I ordered. ”We don’t know what will happen when the artifact finishes. Watch the mothership, I can feel powerful signatures aboard. I’ll try to keep Vaelix busy if he interferes.”

”It’ll be fun,” Lyrate said, grinning. Her sword reformed in her hand and she launched from the ship, streaking toward the oncoming horde.

”Don’t let me die.” Primus called, and fire bloomed over his body as he shot off after her.

Knight melted into shadow and vanished. Dante was gone in a blink. Ragnar’s figure filled with crimson mist and he was gone too.

I turned to Anjee. He stood rooted, fists clenched, eyes burning with something I couldn’t read.

”Having second thoughts?” I asked.

”No,” he said, voice tight. ”It’s just... hard to act against them.”

”Are you afraid?” I pressed.

”No. They are my tribe.”

”And are you not their tribe as well?” I asked, harder now. ”If they truly saw you as one of them, they wouldn’t have treated you like that. If you won’t fight with us, go join them. Don’t stand here frozen. If you stay and become a risk, I won’t hesitate to send your dead body to them.”

He stared at me for a long breath. The anger and shame warred across his face. Finally he clenched his jaw and muttered, ”Damn it.” Then he launched off the ship, joining the battle.

The void exploded into motion around us. Light and Essence carved the dark like knives.

”I want to join as well,” Steve murmured.

”No. You’ll die,” I said. ”Both of you stay on the ship. We may need to pull back fast.”

North listened. She turned, jumped through the hatch and dropped into the ship. Steve hesitated, then sheathed his sword, exhaled, and followed her.

I whispered, ”Silver — out.” Crimson mist spilled from my core and gathered into shape. Silver materialized, massive and low to the ship, wings folding like dark sails. I stepped onto his back. He beat his wings once and we rose, lifting away from the ship.

Below us, Lyrate crashed first into the rushing line of Feran grandmasters. She clenched her sword and swung.

”Rising Dawn,” she breathed.

A crimson arc burst from her blade, cutting across the torsos of the nearest grandmasters. Their defenses shattered under the strike; they were sent tumbling, Essence flaring into the void.

Right behind her, Primus burst forward like a meteor wreathed in flame. His speed blurred through space, leaving behind a tail of burning Essence.

In the next instant, he appeared behind one of the Feran grandmasters. His fist ignited, fire coiling around his arm like a dragon ready to strike, and then—

BOOM!

His flaming punch smashed into the back of the tiger’s head.

The explosion sent a wave of heat tearing through the void.

The Feran’s barrier shattered, flames spreading across his fur as he spun out of control, roaring in pain.

Primus didn’t stop there. He clenched both fists together, his arms glowing red-hot, and slammed them down on the tiger’s back, driving him toward the nearest asteroid. The impact cracked the rock in half, molten debris scattering in all directions.

Meanwhile, Lyrate’s sword danced like a streak of crimson lightning. She weaved through the air, cutting through Essence blasts aimed at her.

One Feran lunged from behind, she twisted midair, parried with the flat of her blade, and kicked him in the chest. Her sword flared again, glowing brighter as she whispered another command.

”Falling Dusk.”

The mist around her rippled. A scarlet shockwave erupted outward, slicing through the space ahead, forcing half a dozen Ferans to scatter or be cut apart.

Some distance away, Ragnar dropped into the middle of the chaos like a meteor. He bumped his fists together, his crimson mist swirling wildly around him, and then roared, a deep, primal sound that seemed to shake the battlefield itself.

”COME!”

His voice thundered through space, vibrating through the Essence currents. A moment later, his Force Laws awakened. A massive gravitational pull burst from his body, twisting the flow of space around him.

Every Feran grandmaster in his range, charging, dodging, or fleeing, was suddenly dragged toward him.

The tigers snarled in alarm, their bodies accelerating uncontrollably toward the vortex Ragnar had become.

He stood firm, laughing, his eyes glowing with bloodlust. The crimson mist around him thickened, condensing into a massive club that shimmered with alternating waves of attraction and repulsion.

He spun the weapon once, the air howling around it, and then swung.

BOOM!

The club smashed through the nearest Feran, the force sending the beast spiraling away with a crushed ribcage. Ragnar twisted again, striking another across the jaw, then slammed the third downward into a rock fragment that shattered on impact.

Every strike echoed with the sound of splintering bones and cracking Essence barriers as more Ferans were hurled away like rag dolls.

I watched Ragnar and Lyrate tear through the battlefield. Even though both of them were clearly holding back, the Ferans were still struggling to withstand their blows. Every clash sent shockwaves rippling through space, the void lighting up with flashes of Essence.

Bones cracked, blood splattered, and tigers roared in pain but that was all. None of them had fallen yet.

Their bodies were far tougher than humans of the same rank. Even Ragnar’s devastating swings or Lyrate’s razor-sharp Essence slashes could only break bones and tear flesh, not kill them outright.

If they were human grandmasters, these same attacks would have reduced them to vapor, shattered into particles under the sheer pressure.

But the Ferans were built differently, an advantage given to them by their race.