My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 677: The Ritual

Standing at the center of the elevated dais, Orobas loomed over a silent arena. A thousand demons remained seated in perfect meditation, their auras pulled tight and their breathing rhythmic. The sky above was cloudless, yet the atmosphere felt heavy with a thick sense of expectation.

Orobas shifted his red wooden staff, allowing the etched runes to shimmer under the light.

"I won't waste your time with empty promises or stories," his voice boomed, reaching every corner of the massive stadium with ease. "This ritual serves two purposes.

First, it will drastically intensify the Fire Laws within the domed zone. Second, the world core itself will emit blood ripples. Whether you reap the benefits depends entirely on your physique, your blood, your comprehension, and your will."

"This ritual will show no mercy to the weak," Orobas added firmly. "And it will not pause for those who hesitate. Get ready."

He pivoted toward the platform's center.

There lay a circular vent carved into the solid stone. The surrounding runes pulsed with a faint light, seemingly aware of the impending event.

Stepping forward, Orobas plunged the staff downward.

As the tip entered the aperture, the process ignited.

*****

Within the hidden pocket space, the change was instantaneous.

A deep tremor shook the entire dimension, as if an ancient power had been provoked. A ripple surged out from the world core, warping the very air. Space began to fold and unfold in complex layers, and from these distortions, runes started to manifest.

They were forced into existence.

Shimmering silver-white symbols peeled away from the fabric of space, flowing like luminous rivers toward the world core. I recognized them at once.

System runes.

I narrowed my eyes.

One by one, the runes collided with the core, sinking into its surface before tunneling inward toward the single drop of blood suspended at the center.

Upon contact, the blood drop vibrated.

Just once.

The reaction was violent and immediate.

A massive fluctuation exploded from the world core. Through our connection, I felt it surge out into Armus. Below in the stadium, a crimson dome manifested instantly, expanding to seal the entire ritual ground.

The barrier shimmered with a faint transparency, its surface rippling with runes. The space within the dome grew dense, cutting off the interior from the outside world.

Before the echoes of that surge could die down, a second, even larger wave followed.

It rolled out like a tsunami of law power, sweeping across the dome's interior and overwhelming everything in its path. I watched intently as the fundamental structure of laws within the zone began to shift.

Lightning was suppressed, its sharp edge dulled.

Earth lost its characteristic weight and permanence.

Wind grew thin, becoming stagnant and weak.

Every law was crushed down to the absolute minimum needed to maintain reality, except for one.

Fire erupted.

It usurped the place of lightning and earth, filling every void left behind. The intensity didn't just rise in heat, but in pure authority. Inside that dome, fire became the supreme truth.

Then, the earth shuddered.

Fissures spider-webbed across the stadium floor like glowing veins. They pulsed with a deep red light, and from the cracks, a dense, crimson smoke began to rise.

This was no ordinary vapor.

It moved with intent.

The smoke drifted and curled toward the meditating demons, soaking into their forms through their pores, their breath, and their blood.

Though their eyes remained shut, their bodies reacted violently.

Some clenched their teeth, while others shook uncontrollably. A few slumped over as if crushed by an invisible weight.

I traced the power back to its origin.

Inside the world core, the blood drop had transformed again.

A tiny fragment—not even a full drop—detached itself and vanished. I tracked its path instantly as it moved through the core and across space, entering the foundations beneath the stadium.

The moment it fused with the stone, the glowing veins flared with brilliance.

So that was the secret.

The blood drop wasn't being used up; it was lending its essence. The portion was so minuscule it would be impossible to notice without my level of scrutiny.

The further the smoke traveled from the central dais, the more diluted it became. The demons nearest the center were totally submerged in a thick, crimson mist. Those on the outskirts received only thin, weakened streams.

Proximity was everything.

Position determined the reward.

I redirected my attention to observe North.

She sat perfectly still, her posture impeccable and her breathing measured. The blood smoke clung to her like a second skin.

I watched her internal reaction.

Her blood began to churn, circulating with increased speed and strengthening the pathways she had already refined through grueling training. The smoke didn't force a transformation; instead, it acted as a catalyst, accelerating her physical evolution in subtle, precise ways.

Elsewhere, the results were mixed.

Some demons were clearly struggling, their bodies fighting the process. A few spat out dark phlegm as the heat burned away their impurities. Others radiated a faint glow, their bloodlines reacting with excitement.

However, after that initial burst, the activity ceased.

The System went quiet.

No more runes appeared.

No further constraints were imposed.

The world core continued to pump out fire law fluctuations to maintain the field, but the blood drop became still once more, its task finished for the time being.

’Interesting.’

Either the System lacked the power to interfere further... or it had achieved its goal.

I shut my eyes.

Utilizing my bond with the world core, I reached out.

With careful subtlety, I began to draw the blood smoke upward, peeling a thin thread away from the mass within the stadium. It resisted briefly before yielding to my pull.

The smoke drifted toward me, slipping through the barriers of space to enter the pocket realm.

I took a slow breath.

As the blood smoke made contact, my mind was flooded with raw information.

It didn't cause my body to tremble, nor did my blood ripple. My physical form had already been tempered far beyond the limits of what this ritual could affect. The smoke found no flaws to mend and no instability to challenge.

Instead, it transformed into pure knowledge.

As the red haze permeated my being, complex patterns began to reveal themselves. I started to perceive blood not just as a fluid, but as a complex system—its creation, its essence, and the way it served as a vessel for both intent and life. I understood its relationship with water, its resistance to space, and how it tethered the soul to the flesh.

Captivated, I drew in even more of the smoke.

I allowed the crimson mist to envelop me entirely.

Time became irrelevant as I plunged into deep comprehension. Understanding stacked upon understanding, and I began to pull more and more of the blood smoke toward myself.