My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 698: Lets Run

Our entry into the core layer was silent and ghostly.

A thick, suffocating pressure filled the region, caused by the incredibly dense stacking of laws. Even with my perception extended to its limit, I proceeded with extreme caution, cloaking both Knight and myself in multiple layers of concealment. I combined spatial folds, Essence suppression, and shifting shadows until our very existence was reduced to a mere blur in the void. Knight kept pace, staying right by my side.

This core layer had not been designed for habitation; it was built for total war.

Enormous platforms floated in a grand arc, creating the innermost defensive crescent of the demon army. These were not living quarters but specialized firing batteries. Overlapping like the scales of a serpent, thick Essence shields curved away from them, each one radiating a rhythmic, deep green pulse.

The true battlefield stretched out beyond these structures.

Tens of thousands of demon soldiers were positioned in rigid rows. Grandmasters made up the primary force, while Transcendents were stationed like tactical keystones among the ranks. Their auras were not wild or flared; instead, they were held in check with disciplined, cold restraint.

At the furthest rear of the demon host, far removed from the front lines, a solitary figure drifted. I recognized him instantly, even before my scan could confirm it. This was the very first upper transcendent I had ever come across.

Saleos Emberlord.

He stood in isolation, arms crossed behind his back, while his long cloak fluttered slowly in the vacuum. He offered no shouts or commands, nor did he move an inch. He didn't even release his aura. He simply stood there, watching.

Another demon floated near him.

[Phegor Chokeste - Level 392]

On the surface, he seemed unremarkable. His level was in the 390s and his aura was formidable, but his posture was passive, almost indifferent. However, the moment my perception brushed against him, the Star of Origin within my Dawn Core gave a faint, sudden tremor.

That familiar fluctuation had returned.

It was the same sense of wrongness I had encountered on Peanu—the same subtle, crawling distortion clinging to deathmist, woven from runes that originated outside our known universe.

I narrowed my gaze, focusing intently on that specific demon.

He was not the only one.

As I expanded the reach of my perception, I began to identify them.

First dozens, then hundreds.

Tucked throughout the demon ranks were soldiers bearing that identical signature. Some were Transcendents, others were Grandmasters. They integrated perfectly into the formations and followed orders, yet something about their behavior was fundamentally flawed.

They were holding back.

Their strikes were timed poorly. Their support arrived a second too late. Whenever the formations pivoted, they shifted just a hair too slowly, forcing their comrades to adjust and compensate. These were minor errors—constant, small mistakes.

They weren't obvious enough to be noticed by a casual observer.

But they were enough to slowly bleed the army dry.

I felt my jaw tighten in realization.

Suddenly, the void in front of the demon lines erupted in chaos.

A wave of abominations surged forward like a tide of living flesh. Twisted, massive bodies collided as they shrieked through the vacuum. Phantoms drifted above the swarm, their tall, spindly forms flickering in and out of reality, their very presence warping the local laws of space.

The impact was savage.

Demon warriors met the charge head-on. Domains expanded and blades flashed. The rushing mass was torn apart by fire, lightning, and arcs of blood-red Essence. From behind, the platforms unleashed constant beams of condensed laws, carving through the ranks of abominations in brilliant, glowing sweeps.

The void echoed with screams.

Then, without warning, the abominations halted. Their momentum shattered instantly. As the Phantoms raised their thin arms, the entire wave retreated with a coordination that felt entirely unnatural.

The demon army stopped in place. Weapons remained leveled and Domains stayed active. No soldier dared to relax.

A few seconds of silence passed.

Then, the abominations charged once more. It was the same rhythm, the same timing.

“This again,” the demon standing near Saleos grumbled in a low tone. “Annoying pests.”

Saleos remained silent, not even bothering to turn his head.

I watched the carnage, a cold dread settling in my chest as the truth became clear.

The demons were being toyed with. The enemy was probing their reactions, analyzing response times, and inducing fatigue. They were draining Essence and eroding morale, one calculated wave at a time.

Beside me, Knight let out a slow breath.

‘This is bad,’ he whispered. ‘This isn’t a battle. They are being farmed.’

I gave a grim nod.

I pushed my perception even further, past the front lines and toward the distant edge of the void.

That was when I spotted it. Standing beyond the final defensive crescent of the Eternal forces was a tower.

It rose from the void, impossibly tall, its exterior shimmering with the shifting hues of the rift. Space folded toward it, and laws bent in its presence. Even at this great distance, it felt heavy against my senses.

The tower’s purpose was obvious. That was the seat of the Eternal. It wasn't participating in the battle; I suspected it was either recovering or simply observing the mayhem from afar.

‘We need to go. I’ve seen what I came for,’ I told Knight.

He agreed with a nod.

Just as I started to withdraw and my space law began to hum, the situation changed.

Saleos moved. His head snapped toward our coordinates with terrifying speed.

Despite my layered concealment and our position within folded space, his eyes locked directly onto us.

The pressure of his gaze felt like a cold blade pressed against my skin.

Knight froze. I held my breath, staying perfectly still.

For a long heartbeat, Saleos stared into the empty void like a statue carved from stone. His eyes narrowed slightly, and that was all the warning I got. I felt it immediately—a sudden shift, a violent tightening of the Essence surrounding him.

I locked my focus on him, every sense heightened to the extreme.

The moment I sensed his Essence surge—

I triggered a teleportation.

Knight and I vanished from that patch of space a split second before total destruction arrived.

In the following instant, Saleos materialized exactly where we had been standing. He was already mid-strike, his body twisting with the momentum of his attack. His fist was pulled back, wreathed in a deep red glow so dense it looked like a dying star compressed into his hand.

He punched the void.

BOOM!!!

The vacuum of space shattered.

Cracks raced outward like fractures in brittle glass before the laws of the universe snapped back together with a scream of distortion. A massive shockwave rippled across the battlefield, leveling Essence flows and rattling the demon shields. Every being—demon, phantom, and abomination—was shocked into total stillness.

A heavy silence fell over the battlefield.

Saleos’s aura erupted, a crushing weight that bore down on everything nearby. Even from our new position, far enough to avoid the blast but close enough to feel the power, the message was clear.

Had that strike connected, neither Knight nor I would have survived intact.

Saleos slowly stood up straight, his sharp, predatory eyes scanning the empty void where we had been moments before. He didn't look frustrated; he looked alert.

His aura continued to climb, layer by layer, as if he were undoing the seals on his true power. The tension in the void grew with it, leaving the battlefield feeling like a bowstring pulled to the point of snapping.

Then, another change occurred.

Far behind the demon lines, at the very limit of my perception, the massive tower near the rift began to pulse with a brilliant, intensifying light.

The tower was waking up.