My Talent's Name Is Generator

Chapter 668: Some More Lies

Devron was the first to rise from the dirt, shaking off dust and floating upward again. His expression was a mix of irritation and baffled curiosity.

“What was this about?” he asked, frowning at Aurora as if she did not just spank him openly.

Aurora pointed a thumb casually toward me, though no one could see me.

“Well, my boss says I have to beat you until you agree that Primus is innocent. Or until the envoy admits he lied. Either one works.”

Right then, Gyros screamed.

“AAAHHHHH!”

His cry echoed across the valley as Lyrate’s wooden puppet snapped another whip across his back and smashed him even deeper into the crater.

Devron winced sympathetically.

“You know,” he said in a casual tone, “hitting an envoy is the same as going against the Monarch.”

Aurora tilted her head.

“I wouldn’t say we’re going against him. We’re just… proving our innocence. Isn’t that allowed?”

Another scream tore out of Gyros, but this one was followed by a heavy grunt, Mazikeen’s grunt.

Before I even shifted my attention, Mazikeen blurred. A streak of red skin, long limbs, and wild lightning-fast precision shot across the battlefield. She reappeared in front of Aurora, spear in hand, thrusting straight toward Aurora’s throat.

The attack was vicious.

Devron raised both hands like a man publicly washing himself of responsibility.

“Uh oh,” he muttered. “You made her go crazy. Now you handle her.”

Then, in a move that made me snort, he actually unsummoned his weapon, put his hands in his pockets, and drifted back like a spectator getting comfortable before a show.

Mazikeen struck.

“Hooo, now that is a wild one,” Aurora whistled.

The air cracked as lightning coiled around her fingers. She thrust forward with two fingers, and those glowing fingertips met the very tip of Mazikeen’s spear. Metal screamed. The weapon stopped dead, trembling between them.

Mazikeen’s lips curled.

She twisted her wrist and yanked the spear back, spinning it in a tight arc. Her movements were sharp, aggressive, and fluid all at once. Red skin flexed over lean muscle as she lunged again, this time low, sweeping for Aurora’s legs.

Aurora stepped back lightly, almost lazily, lightning flashing beneath her feet. The spear cut empty air.

Mazikeen didn’t slow down.

She pressed forward relentlessly, each strike faster than the last. Thrust, sweep, stab. Her body moved like a blade itself, hips twisting, shoulders rolling, long legs driving her momentum forward. Plumes of fire clung to her skin, giving her a fierce, raw presence that was impossible to ignore.

I could feel it clearly. She was adapting.

“She’s learning,” Knight muttered beside me.

Aurora noticed it too.

“Oh?” Aurora said softly, tilting her head as she deflected another strike with a thin arc of lightning. “You get better when you lose, don’t you?”

Mazikeen laughed.

“I can get better anytime.”

She suddenly dropped the spear with one hand and slammed her knee upward. Aurora leaned aside as the knee grazed past her ribs, close enough that the shockwave rippled through Aurora’s cloak.

Mazikeen followed instantly, elbow snapping toward Aurora’s neck.

This time Aurora blocked with her forearm, lightning flaring bright blue. The impact boomed, and Maziekeen slid backward.

Mazikeen’s chest rose and fell hard. Her eyes burned with excitement.

“Come on,” she said, licking a trace of blood from her lip. “You hit like you’re afraid to hurt me.”

Aurora sighed.

“I was being polite.”

She vanished.

Lightning snapped, and Aurora reappeared behind Mazikeen, palm glowing. She struck Mazikeen’s back lightly.

But the lightning exploded inward.

Mazikeen screamed as her body was hurled forward, skidding across the ground in a spray of dirt and sparks. She rolled, flipped, and somehow came back to her feet, spear snapping back into her grip.

Her breathing was ragged now. Burn marks traced her back and shoulder. But her stance was tighter. She took a deep breath, planted her feet and thrust her spear forward from where she stood.

The distance between them meant nothing.

The spear’s shaft remained in her hands but its tip vanished and reappeared an instant later right in front of Aurora’s face, tearing through space itself.

I felt the shift.

Aurora reacted without panic. She raised her plam and caught the spear tip inches from her eyes. Lightning flared softly around her hand.

The air detonated.

A wave of crimson fire exploded outward from the spear, rolling like a violent tide meant to burn everything in its path. Dust, heat, and sparks swallowed the space between them.

Aurora inhaled once. Then the fire was torn apart.

Lightning ripped through the wave, shredding it into nothing but fading embers. In the same breath, Aurora vanished.

She appeared directly in front of Mazikeen. Her leg came up. The kick landed squarely in Mazikeen’s stomach.

BOOM.

Mazikeen’s body folded and then shot backward like a meteor, crashing through the ground and burying itself deep into a fresh crater. The impact sent cracks racing across the battlefield.

For a moment, there was silence. Then the ground shifted. Mazikeen climbed out of the crater slowly. Blood ran from the corner of her mouth. One arm hung lower than the other. Her armor was shattered.

And yet her eyes were brighter than before.

Hungry.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then licked her lips slowly.

“I want to see your face now,” she said, voice rough but steady.

She took a step forward—

“WAIT!”

Gyros’s scream tore through the battlefield.

“WAIT, I WAS LYING—WAIT!”

Every movement stopped.

All eyes turned toward the crater where Gyros lay half naked, broken and shaking, his voice cracking with fear.

Dravon appeared beside Gyros in an instant.

“Gyros,” he said coldly, “you do understand what you’re saying, right?”

Gyros was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling in uneven gasps.

“I… I do,” he said, voice shaking. “But I can’t take this anymore. I lied about the Bloodreavers. There really was a phantom attack on their capital. Someone allowed it access to Armus. That part was true.” He swallowed and glanced at the root whip hanging above him, his fear obvious. “I blamed Primus because I was jealous. He was growing too strong. I was afraid he’d surpass me, and once that happened, I would lose all influence over Armus.”

He said everything in one broken rush, like if he stopped speaking, the pain would start again.

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!