My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 668: Some More Lies

Devron was the first to pull himself from the earth, brushing off the grime as he ascended into the air once more. His face displayed a chaotic blend of annoyance and bewildered fascination.

“What exactly was the point of that?” he questioned, scowling at Aurora as if she hadn't just publicly humiliated him.

Aurora casually gestured with her thumb toward my position, though I remained invisible to the naked eye.

“Well, my boss informed me that I must continue thrashing you until you concede that Primus is innocent. Or, alternatively, until the envoy confesses to his deception. Either outcome is acceptable.”

At that precise moment, Gyros let out a piercing shriek.

“AAAHHHHH!”

The scream reverberated through the valley as the wooden puppet controlled by Lyrate lashed another whip across his spine, driving him even further into the depths of the crater.

Devron winced with a hint of pity.

“You realize,” he remarked in a conversational tone, “that assaulting an envoy is equivalent to defying the Monarch himself.”

Aurora cocked her head to the side.

“I wouldn’t characterize it as defiance. We are merely… establishing our innocence. That is permitted, isn't it?”

Gyros erupted in another scream, but this time it was cut short by a heavy, guttural sound—the grunt of Mazikeen.

Before I could even redirect my focus, Mazikeen became a blur. A streak of crimson skin and elongated limbs moved with savage, lightning-quick accuracy across the field of battle. She materialized directly before Aurora, her spear leveled and thrusting straight for Aurora’s throat.

The strike was murderous.

Devron threw up both hands, looking like a man publicly washing his hands of any blame.

“Uh oh,” he mumble. “You’ve driven her into a frenzy. You’ll have to deal with her yourself now.”

Then, in a display that forced a snort from me, he actually dismissed his weapon, shoved his hands into his pockets, and drifted backward like a spectator finding a comfortable seat before a performance.

Mazikeen lunged.

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

The atmosphere snapped as coils of lightning wrapped around her fingers. She jabbed forward with two fingers, her glowing tips meeting the very point of Mazikeen’s spear. The sound of screaming metal filled the air. The weapon was halted instantly, vibrating violently between the two women.

A smirk played on Mazikeen’s lips.

With a flick of her wrist, she wrenched the spear back and spun it in a compact arc. Her motions were precise, fierce, and incredibly fluid. Red skin rippled over lean muscle as she dove forward again, this time aiming a low sweep at Aurora’s legs.

Aurora retreated with a light, almost indifferent step, sparks of lightning flickering under her feet. The spear sliced through nothing but air.

Mazikeen did not lose her momentum.

She maintained a relentless assault, each blow swifter than the previous one. Thrust, sweep, and stab followed in rapid succession. Her entire body moved with the lethal grace of a blade, her hips pivoting and shoulders rolling as her long legs propelled her forward. Trails of fire clung to her flesh, granting her a primal, fierce aura that commanded attention.

I could sense it clearly. She was evolving in the heat of battle.

“She’s learning,” Knight whispered at my side.

Aurora had reached the same conclusion.

“Oh?” Aurora murmured, tilting her head while parrying another blow with a slender arc of electricity. “You actually grow stronger through defeat, don't you?”

Mazikeen let out a laugh.

“I can grow stronger whenever I wish.”

Suddenly, she released the spear with one hand and drove her knee upward with explosive force. Aurora leaned away just as the knee brushed past her ribs, the proximity so close that the resulting shockwave caused Aurora’s cloak to ripple.

Mazikeen followed up immediately, snapping her elbow toward Aurora’s neck.

This time, Aurora intercepted the blow with her forearm, her blue lightning flaring brilliantly. The collision produced a booming sound, and Mazikeen was forced to slide backward.

Mazikeen’s chest heaved with heavy breaths. Her eyes were alight with the thrill of the fight.

“Come on,” she urged, licking a drop of blood from her lip. “You strike as if you’re terrified of actually hurting me.”

Aurora gave a weary sigh.

“I was merely attempting to be polite.”

She vanished from sight.

A crack of lightning signaled Aurora’s reappearance behind Mazikeen, her palm glowing with power. She delivered a light strike to Mazikeen’s back.

However, the lightning detonated inward.

Mazikeen screamed as her frame was launched forward, skidding across the dirt in a flurry of sparks and soil. She rolled and flipped, somehow regaining her footing as her spear snapped back into her hand.

Her breathing was ragged now, with burn scars marring her back and shoulder. Yet, her posture had become even tighter. Taking a deep breath, she planted her feet firmly and thrust her spear forward from her current position.

The gap between them proved irrelevant.

While the shaft stayed in her grip, the tip of the spear vanished, reappearing a split second later inches from Aurora’s face, having pierced through the fabric of space itself.

I sensed the sudden shift in the air.

Aurora did not panic. Raising her palm, she caught the tip of the spear just before it reached her eyes. Faint traces of lightning flickered around her hand.

The air erupted.

A surge of crimson flames burst forth from the spear, rolling outward like a savage tide designed to incinerate everything. Heat, dust, and sparks consumed the gap between the two combatants.

Aurora took a single breath. Then, the inferno was torn asunder.

Lightning shredded the wave of fire, reducing it to nothing but flickering embers. In that same heartbeat, Aurora disappeared.

She materialized right in front of Mazikeen, her leg swinging upward. The kick connected squarely with Mazikeen’s midsection.

BOOM.

Mazikeen’s body buckled before being launched backward like a falling star, slamming into the earth and carving out a fresh crater. The force of the impact sent spiderweb cracks racing across the terrain.

Silence reigned for a moment. Then, the soil shifted. Mazikeen crawled out of the pit slowly. Blood trickled from her mouth, one arm hung limp, and her armor lay in ruins.

Despite this, her eyes shone brighter than ever.

They looked hungry.

She wiped her mouth with her hand and slowly licked her lips.

“I want to see your face now,” she declared, her voice rough but unwavering.

She took a step forward—

“WAIT!”

Gyros’s desperate shout pierced the battlefield.

“STOP, I WAS LYING—WAIT!”

All movement ceased instantly.

Every gaze turned toward the crater where Gyros lay—partially stripped, battered, and trembling—his voice fracturing with pure terror.

Devron appeared at Gyros’s side in a flash.

“Gyros,” he said with a cold edge, “you realize the gravity of what you are saying, don’t you?”

Gyros panted heavily, his chest heaving in erratic gasps.

“I… I do,” he stammered, his voice quivering. “But I can’t endure this any longer. I lied regarding the Bloodreavers. There truly was a phantom strike on their capital. Someone indeed granted it entry to Armus. That much was the truth.” He swallowed hard, glancing at the root whip hovering above him with visible dread. “I placed the blame on Primus out of jealousy. He was becoming too powerful. I feared he would overtake me, and if that happened, I would lose all my leverage over Armus.”

He confessed everything in a frantic, broken rush, as if pausing would cause the agony to resume.