My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 712: It Will Be Explosive

Our base of operations was relocated from the third layer to the core layer, positioning us directly beneath the central headquarters—a territory under the immediate jurisdiction of Saleos.

The group convened once more to deliberate on our upcoming strategy.

For the time being, we refrained from checking if the Eternal had detected the destruction of its anchors. I was fairly certain it remained unaware of the loss, and it was wiser to maintain that silence until our preparations were complete.

Above our position, the opposing armies had retreated.

However, their withdrawal today had been significantly more hurried than usual.

The individual responsible for this was seated to my right.

Ragnar.

A wide grin stretched across his face, and his massive frame was still plastered with dried gore, bits of abominations, and the charred remnants of deathmist. He had stubbornly ignored every request to clean himself up, whether they came from Dravon, Aurora, or even Mazikeen.

"It’s good luck," Ragnar had declared with a cheerful tone. "It’s a testament to my achievement."

After that, no one bothered to press the issue further.

I shifted my gaze toward Saleos and noticed his fist tighten for a fleeting moment. I briefly wondered if he was on the verge of charging back into the fray himself. The sheer devastation Ragnar had unleashed over the past forty-eight hours was still vivid in everyone's mind. He had pulverized entire waves of abominations and forced Transcendent Phantoms back through raw, unadulterated strength. Even the enemy's elite units had shown signs of hesitation.

His performance had been excessive.

Nevertheless, it had proven effective.

I found Saleos’s self-control more impressive than his irritation. A lesser commander would have either restricted Ragnar or hurled him into the most suicidal part of the conflict. Saleos did neither; he simply observed, calculated, and tolerated the chaos.

It was exactly what I expected.

Every one of my summons possessed power far exceeding their visible levels. They were capable of battling opponents well above their rank, surpassing boundaries that should have been insurmountable. Their strength didn't come from external enhancements or borrowed energy.

They drew their power directly from me.

As long as I remained standing to support them, they would never falter.

"I’m surprised you aren’t aware of that, considering your level of strength," Saleos remarked.

He was finally addressing my inquiry regarding how he had detected me hiding within the void when I was spying on him, leading to his unhesitating attack.

"My memory isn’t what it used to be," I answered with a calm expression. "I’m certain I should know, but perhaps it simply slipped my mind."

Saleos gave me a look of mild offense, clearly finding my excuse hard to swallow. For a second, it seemed he might challenge my answer, but he simply sighed and provided the explanation anyway.

"Soul fluctuation."

I blinked in surprise.

"Your mastery over space, aura, and Essence was nearly flawless," he explained. "However, my sensory techniques are rooted in soul energy. You failed to mask your soul signature."

He paused briefly before adding in a low voice, "Under normal circumstances, I might have missed it. But your signature... it is exceptionally powerful. It rivals someone standing at the very threshold of the Saint rank."

His eyes narrowed, as if he were attempting to peer through my physical form to see something deeper within.

That was the moment of realization for me.

Following my rank-up, I had intended to investigate soul-based techniques, knowing the soul was vital for the Saint rank and the tiers beyond. However, events had unfolded too rapidly, and one emergency after another had caused me to sideline those plans.

Now, the vulnerability in my concealment was glaringly obvious.

I could vanish from sight, stifle my aura, and even manipulate the fabric of space and time.

Yet, my soul remained entirely visible.

Saleos’s insight had made that reality painfully evident.

I gave a slow nod. "Thanks."

He acknowledged me with a single nod, then shifted his focus past me.

"So," he began slowly, "is he another associate from your organization?"

"Yes," I confirmed, offering a small smile as I gestured toward Silver. "If we consider the entire journey, he was actually the first to join my side."

Silver, who had been standing silently by my side with his wings tucked in, stepped forward with a polite bow.

"It is an honor to meet you, Commander Saleos," he said with courtesy. "You may address me as Silver Ironhart."

"Ironhart?" Saleos repeated the name, his eyes darting between Silver and me.

"Indeed," Silver continued with a calm demeanor, as if his statement were perfectly mundane. "Billion Ironhart is my older brother."

He shared this information not just for Saleos’s benefit, but for mine as well.

I froze for a fraction of a second.

My gaze drifted across the table toward Aurora. She was nodding to herself with a look of immense satisfaction, appearing like someone who had just cracked a difficult puzzle.

I exhaled a soft sigh.

Of course. This was clearly Aurora’s handiwork.

She was obviously trying to patch every potential hole in our cover story, likely to strengthen her claim for the vice leader position—or "boss lady" of the Order of Absolute, as she preferred to call it.

Saleos accepted the claim without further questioning. He gave Silver a simple nod, his face remaining unreadable.

I was relieved.

The last thing I wanted was to try and explain how a human and a Feran could possibly be biological brothers.

"Are your side's preparations complete?" I inquired. I could already feel the stirrings from above—a faint but intensifying movement from the Eternal’s forces.

"Yes," Saleos answered instantly. "We are prepared to move." He looked at me intently. "And what about you?"

"We’re ready," I declared, a slow smirk spreading across my face. "It’s going to be explosive."

For a fleeting second, a dangerous glint appeared in Saleos’s eyes—a flicker of primal hunger or perhaps madness. It was suppressed almost immediately beneath his disciplined exterior, but I hadn't missed it.

"It’s time," I announced, pushing back from my seat.

I scanned the room, looking at everyone present.

On my side were my summons—Steve, North, and Primus—each radiating their own quiet determination. On the side of the demons were Dravon, Mazikeen, Korvath, and three captains assigned to Ragnar’s unit. Every one of them was prepared, their auras held in a state of tense readiness, like arrows notched and ready to fly.

Saleos remained where he was.

He would not be participating in this specific mission.

He had a different, heavier burden to carry. While we moved to strike and incite chaos, he would stay behind to hold the front line together and prepare for the aftermath. Should things take a turn for the worse, he would be the one to face the fallout.

Everyone in the room was aware of that reality.

"This operation will change everything," Saleos said, his voice heavy with gravity. "Once we begin, there is no path back."

"That’s fine," I replied with a nod. "We didn’t come here to go back."

We donned the cloaks of the Order of Absolute, pulling the deep hoods over our heads to obscure our features. With a flick of my wrist, I folded the space around us, teleporting the entire group upward to one of the massive launch platforms in the core layer.